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plutosunshine · 2 days ago

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How to stabilize your life? Saturn in houses

Saturn in the 1st house

If you’ve got Saturn in the 1st house, you’ve probably felt like you were born a little older than your years—more serious, maybe more reserved, and definitely carrying a deep sense of responsibility from early on. Life might feel like it’s asking a lot from you, even when you're just trying to figure things out. But the good news is, once you learn how to work with that energy instead of fighting it, you can build a really strong, steady life.

One of the best ways to stabilize things is by creating structure—think daily routines, setting realistic goals, and sticking to them, even when no one’s watching. Saturn loves when you're consistent. It rewards patience and effort over time, not quick wins. So instead of trying to fix everything all at once, focus on showing up for yourself a little every day.

Also, don’t be too hard on yourself. Saturn in the 1st can come with this voice in your head that says you're never doing enough. That inner critic can get loud, but it’s not the truth—it’s just Saturn pushing you to grow. Learn to balance that drive with some self-compassion. You’re allowed to make mistakes and learn as you go.

And remember, boundaries are your best friend. Whether it’s in relationships, work, or even just with your time, knowing your limits helps keep things steady. You don’t have to say yes to everything or prove your worth by overworking. Stability often comes from knowing when to pause, breathe, and choose what really matters to you.

Lastly, surround yourself with people who get you. You might come off serious or private at first, but that doesn't mean you don't need connection. Having even a small circle of grounded, supportive people can make a huge difference. Saturn might make you feel like you have to do it all alone, but you don’t.

You’ve got the potential to build something lasting and meaningful—you just have to give yourself time, patience, and a little grace along the way.

Saturn in the 2nd house

Ah, Saturn in the 2nd house—this placement is like having a tough but wise financial advisor living in your soul. 😅 It can feel heavy at times, especially when it comes to money, self-worth, and stability. But once you understand the rhythm of Saturn here, you can build something solid that no one can take from you.

With this placement, life might’ve taught you early on that resources aren’t always guaranteed. Maybe money was tight growing up, or you were made to feel like you had to “earn” your worth. That can lead to two things: either you become ultra-responsible with finances and really value hard work, or you swing the other way and feel blocked when it comes to building wealth or feeling deserving.

To stabilize your life with Saturn in the 2nd, the trick is to approach money and value slowly and steadily. This isn’t a “get rich quick” setup—it’s the long game. Budgeting, saving, learning the ropes of financial literacy, and making thoughtful investments (of money and energy) are your best tools. And don’t just focus on material stability—this house also rules your sense of worth. Saturn here wants you to build self-esteem brick by brick, through consistent effort, responsibility, and trusting yourself.

It can also help to release the idea that you’re only valuable if you're being productive or financially successful. Saturn might whisper that in your ear, but it’s not the full truth. Your worth is inherent—it just takes a little longer for you to feel it sometimes.

So yeah, Saturn in the 2nd is a slow burn. But once you’ve done the work, the foundation you build—emotionally and financially—is rock solid. You're not just chasing stability, you're becoming it.

Saturn in the 3rd house

Saturn in the 3rd house gives your mind serious main character energy—but not always in the flashy way. This is the placement of the deep thinker, the cautious communicator, the one who doesn’t just talk to talk. You’ve probably always had a thoughtful, maybe even quiet, approach to how you express yourself. And growing up, you might’ve felt like speaking up was hard or that your voice didn’t come easily. Maybe you had to “prove” your intelligence or learn to trust that what you had to say mattered.

This placement can also show up in your relationship with siblings or early education. Maybe there were delays, challenges, or just a sense of distance. Saturn makes you work for clarity—of thought, of voice, of connection.

To stabilize your life with Saturn in the 3rd, lean into communication on your own terms. You don’t have to be the loudest in the room, but your words carry weight when you use them. Writing, structured learning, or even just organizing your thoughts through journaling can help you feel more in control and confident. You thrive when you create systems for thinking and communicating—whether that’s planners, to-do lists, or just a clean inbox. That stuff actually helps settle your mind.

Also, don't be afraid to speak up, even if it feels a little awkward at first. Your ideas are valuable, and over time, people will come to really respect what you have to say—because it's grounded, considered, and real. You're not about fluff, you're about substance.

One more thing: with Saturn here, you’re meant to be a lifelong learner. Your mind gets sharper as you age. So give yourself permission to grow into your voice. It might take time, but when it lands—it lands strong.

Saturn in the 4th house

Saturn in the 4th house can feel like carrying a backpack full of bricks labeled “family, roots, and emotional security.” This is the house of home and inner life, so when Saturn lands here, it often means your early environment felt strict, heavy, or full of responsibilities. You might have grown up feeling like the emotional adult in the room before you were ready, or like you had to be the stable one even if everything around you wasn’t.

There can be a sense of emotional restraint with this placement. You might keep your feelings to yourself or find it hard to fully relax and feel safe—especially around family or in your own home. But here's the flip side: Saturn here gives you the power to build a solid, grounded emotional foundation later in life. You just have to build it yourself, brick by brick.

Stabilizing your life with Saturn in the 4th starts with creating a sense of home within you. That could look like therapy, inner child work, or simply learning to listen to your own emotional needs and take them seriously. This placement thrives on consistency and self-parenting—things like a regular routine, a calm environment, and setting emotional boundaries can bring a surprising amount of peace.

You might not have had the softest start, but you’re capable of creating a home and emotional life that’s deeply secure and lasting. It just might take time—and that’s totally okay. With Saturn, the payoff always comes through patience, effort, and deep, meaningful growth. You're not here for the temporary fix. You're here to build something real.

Saturn in the 5th house

Saturn in the 5th house can feel like a cosmic lesson in learning how to play, love, and express yourself—without guilt, pressure, or fear of being "too much" or "not enough." This is the house of creativity, romance, fun, and even children, so when Saturn shows up here, it tends to bring a more serious tone to those areas.

Maybe as a kid you felt like you had to grow up too fast and didn’t get to fully embrace play or creativity. Or maybe you were super hard on yourself when it came to expressing your talents, feeling like you had to be perfect or earn approval before letting your light shine. Same goes for love—you might crave deep, lasting romance but find it hard to open up or let loose emotionally. There can be a fear of vulnerability or rejection that keeps you playing it safe.

But here’s the deal: Saturn in the 5th doesn’t mean you’re doomed to be all work and no play. It means your joy, creativity, and love life all get better with time. You’re here to take fun seriously—not in a rigid way, but in a grounded, intentional way. This might look like developing a craft over years, learning how to love with commitment and maturity, or discovering that your creativity has real-world impact.

To stabilize your life with this placement, give yourself permission to be a beginner. Let go of the idea that joy has to be productive or that love has to follow a strict rulebook. The more you let your inner child breathe, the more confident and whole you’ll feel.

And when it comes to romance or creative projects? Don’t rush it. Saturn rewards slow-burning passion, not fleeting sparks. You're meant to create things (and relationships) that last. Give yourself the grace to grow into your full creative power—one steady, authentic step at a time.

Saturn in the 6th house

Saturn in the 6th house is like having a very stern personal trainer in your soul—one who’s obsessed with routines, hard work, and staying on top of your responsibilities. This house rules your daily habits, work environment, health, and how you serve others. So when Saturn is here, life tends to push you toward discipline, structure, and learning how to take your well-being seriously.

You might feel like you're always working—mentally, emotionally, or physically. Maybe you’ve had jobs where you felt underappreciated or like the weight of the world was on your shoulders. Or maybe you’re super self-critical when it comes to productivity and feel like you're never doing “enough.” Saturn here can make you hyper-aware of your duties, which means burnout is a real possibility if you’re not careful.

The way to stabilize your life with Saturn in the 6th is through consistency and realistic expectations. You’re naturally capable of incredible focus and reliability, but you’ve got to pace yourself. Build sustainable habits—whether it's a meal prep routine, a sleep schedule, or regular exercise. Saturn wants you to be healthy and efficient, but not at the cost of your joy or sanity.

It’s also important to find meaning in your work. If you’re stuck in a job that feels soul-crushing, that Saturn pressure can feel suffocating. But if you’re doing something purposeful—even if it’s challenging—it starts to feel like you’re building something worthwhile. That’s where you thrive.

Long story short: you’re here to master the art of showing up, not just for others, but for yourself. Once you learn how to balance service, health, and work without overdoing it, Saturn will reward you with a deep sense of inner strength and stability that nobody can shake.

Saturn in the 7th house

Saturn in the 7th house is all about serious business when it comes to relationships. This placement means you don’t take love—or any close partnership—lightly. You might’ve always felt like relationships come with pressure, responsibility, or even fear of rejection or abandonment. Some people with this placement wait longer to settle down, not because they don’t want love, but because they’re deeply cautious about who they let in.

There’s often a strong desire for commitment and loyalty, but also a fear of losing independence or getting hurt. You might attract older or more mature partners, or relationships that feel like work—sometimes literally, sometimes emotionally. But here's the thing: you're not built for casual. You're built for real, grounded, lasting connections.

To stabilize your life with Saturn in the 7th, the key is to be honest—with yourself and others—about your needs and boundaries. Don’t rush into relationships out of fear of being alone, but also don’t shut down emotionally just because you're afraid of getting hurt. Relationships might feel delayed or difficult early on, but as you grow, you learn how to show up fully, communicate with maturity, and build something rock-solid.

This placement can also reflect a fear of dependency, or feeling like you have to be the strong one all the time. But real partnerships are about mutual support. Let people meet you halfway—you don’t have to carry the whole load.

In the long run, Saturn here helps you attract relationships with depth, honesty, and endurance. You’re not here for surface-level stuff. You’re here to build something timeless—with someone who’s truly ready for the ride.

Saturn in the 8th house

Saturn in the 8th house is deep, intense, and transformative—like emotional scuba diving. This placement puts Saturn in the house that rules shared resources, intimacy, power, transformation, and even death and rebirth on a symbolic level. So yeah, it’s not light energy, but it’s powerful when channeled right.

You might’ve experienced loss, emotional intensity, or situations that forced you to confront deeper truths earlier in life. This can lead to trust issues, a guarded heart, or feeling like you have to deal with everything on your own. Vulnerability doesn’t always come easy here—Saturn wants to protect you from being hurt, but in doing so, it can also make it hard to fully open up and receive.

Money tied to others—like inheritances, taxes, debts, or even shared finances in a relationship—can come with a lot of responsibility or karmic lessons. There may be fears around dependence, control, or losing what you’ve built. But with time and experience, you can become a master of managing shared resources and navigating deep emotional bonds with clarity and integrity.

To stabilize your life with Saturn in the 8th, you’ve got to learn how to trust—yourself, others, and the process of transformation. This isn’t about rushing into emotional vulnerability, but about slowly building safe, strong connections where both trust and independence can exist.

This placement is also incredibly psychic and intuitive once you let yourself go there. The more inner work you do—whether it's therapy, shadow work, or spiritual practices—the stronger and more emotionally empowered you become. You’re not here to skim the surface. You’re here to evolve, and Saturn makes sure that when you do, it’s real, lasting, and absolutely unshakable.

You’re built for deep transformation—and Saturn’s just making sure you build that inner power with a rock-solid foundation.

Saturn in the 9th house

Saturn in the 9th house gives you a serious, grounded approach to the big questions of life—philosophy, religion, higher education, travel, belief systems. This placement often shows someone who craves meaning and truth but doesn’t just accept what they’re told. You need proof. You need to test ideas. You’re the type who learns through life experience, challenge, and deep questioning.

Early on, you might’ve felt blocked when it came to education, travel, or even believing in something bigger than yourself. Maybe you doubted your ability to expand your horizons, or maybe life just threw enough obstacles at you to make the journey feel like a slow climb. But Saturn here isn’t trying to shut you down—it’s trying to make sure that when you do find your truth, it’s built on a foundation that can’t be shaken.

To stabilize your life with Saturn in the 9th, you need to embrace being a lifelong student—someone who learns not just through books, but through experience, reflection, and deep personal growth. You might find that you take your time when it comes to higher education or spiritual exploration, but that’s okay. What you build intellectually and spiritually will be solid, wise, and deeply earned.

This placement is also amazing for becoming an authority in a specific field, especially one tied to philosophy, law, education, or spirituality. You’re here to master your beliefs—not just inherit them. And once you do, you have the potential to guide others with real wisdom and clarity.

So yeah, Saturn in the 9th might delay the journey, but it never denies it. You’re meant to seek, struggle, and then rise with a perspective that’s grounded, earned, and transformative—not just for you, but for others too.

Saturn in the 10th house

Saturn in the 10th house is classic “late bloomer” energy—but in the best possible way. This placement means you’re here to build something big, lasting, and real in your public life, career, or reputation. You’re not the type to take shortcuts or chase fame for the sake of it. You want legacy. Respect. Something that stands the test of time.

But early in life? It might’ve felt like you were constantly being tested—professionally, socially, or even by authority figures. Maybe you dealt with super high expectations from parents (especially one with a strong presence), or felt like you had to constantly prove yourself in order to earn recognition or success. Saturn here sets the bar high, and it can feel like nothing you do is ever “enough” until you’ve really earned your place.

Here’s the good news: once you get clear on your goals and put in the work, no one is more unstoppable than someone with Saturn in the 10th. You have the grit, the patience, and the endurance to build an empire—slowly, steadily, and with integrity. You might hit major career milestones later than others, but when you do, they’ll be solid and meaningful.

To stabilize your life with this placement, stay committed to your long-term vision and don't be discouraged by slow progress. Saturn wants you to master your craft, own your authority, and lead from experience—not ego. The more you embrace your path with responsibility and purpose, the more life starts aligning around you.

You're not here to burn out chasing quick wins. You're here to become someone others trust, admire, and follow—not because you said you could, but because you proved it over time. Legacy is your lane. Keep building.

Saturn in the 11th house

Saturn in the 11th house is all about learning serious lessons through friendships, communities, and your long-term hopes and dreams. You’re someone who might feel a bit like an outsider early in life—like it’s hard to find your people or truly fit in with a group. There can be a sense of emotional distance in friendships, or like you’re the one who's always showing up and being reliable, but not always receiving the same in return.

This placement often makes you cautious about who you let into your inner circle. You might have fewer friends, but the ones you do have? They’re ride-or-die, loyal, and often stick around for the long haul. You don’t do superficial connections—you want depth, trust, and shared values.

When it comes to your goals and dreams, Saturn here gives you the power to achieve big things—but only if you're willing to work for it. You’re not about pipe dreams or vague “someday” visions. You want a plan, a purpose, and something that actually matters in the long run. This placement is perfect for building or leading communities, especially when your mission is rooted in social change or long-term progress.

To stabilize your life with Saturn in the 11th, focus on cultivating meaningful connections and committing to goals that align with your deeper values. You might feel like you're "behind" others socially or career-wise early on, but that's only because you're meant to create something lasting. As you mature, your network grows stronger, your vision becomes clearer, and your sense of belonging starts to solidify.

You’re here to make a real impact—not just for yourself, but for the collective. And once you find your tribe or purpose, you become a powerful force for progress, loyalty, and lasting change.

Saturn in the 12th house

Saturn in the 12th house is one of the most quietly powerful placements—it’s like being the emotional architect of your own subconscious. This house rules the hidden, the spiritual, the mystical, and the parts of ourselves that operate behind the scenes. So when Saturn lands here, it can feel like there’s a weight on your soul that you can’t always name.

You might have felt lonely, misunderstood, or emotionally isolated early in life. Not because others didn’t care, but because you often carry burdens silently. There’s usually a deep sense of responsibility—sometimes guilt, sometimes a feeling of needing to sacrifice your own needs for others or for some greater cause. You may also be extremely sensitive to the energies around you but not always know how to protect yourself, so you build walls or retreat inward.

This placement can bring hidden fears, karmic baggage, or a lifelong process of learning to confront your own shadow. But here’s the beauty of it: Saturn in the 12th isn’t trying to break you. It’s trying to help you master your inner world. You're meant to become emotionally and spiritually strong—not through avoiding pain, but by facing it, integrating it, and transforming it.

To stabilize your life with this placement, create space for solitude, spiritual practices, and emotional healing. Meditation, therapy, dream work, and even artistic expression can be game-changers. You need private time to recharge and process, and that’s not a weakness—it’s how you reset your power.

You’re also here to serve in quiet but profound ways. You may work behind the scenes, help others heal, or offer support that no one else sees but makes a huge difference. Once you learn how to take care of your own inner needs, you become incredibly wise, grounded, and capable of deep compassion.

This placement takes time to bloom, but when it does? You become a force of calm, strength, and quiet resilience—the kind that can’t be shaken, no matter what storms come your way.

#astrology #astro #natal chart #astro observations #birth chart #astro notes #astrology posts #zodiac #saturn #saturn in houses

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dearmini · 14 hours ago

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𐔌 아이엔 .ᐟ ꒱ ─ how to braid a heart.

YANG JEONGIN! ⓘ when you walk in on him learning to braid hair.. for you?

⌣ ﹒ ✿ ﹕ 𝑏f!jeongin ₊ ‎ ‎ 𝑓em!reader ˙ . ꒷ g. fluff ! 4300wc. ⎯⎯ ᒪIᗷᖇᗩᖇY ⟢ cw. pure love, intimacy, cursing, unfunny jokes, bickering, rain (again). ┆ ☆ ⋮ drabble .ᐟ

𝑦𝑎𝑛𝑖'𝑠 𝑚𝑎𝑖𝑙 𓈒 𓈒 ⭑ and back again with another mini drabble! I'M SORRY IT KEEPS GETTING LONG. I CAN'T HELP IT. I SWEAR I TRIED MY BEST OKAY. happy reading!

it starts on a rainy afternoon.

the sky’s an overcast blur, cottony grey and soft like the hush of a lullaby. outside the window, the rain’s been drizzling for hours—persistent, gentle. the kind that makes people want to curl into themselves and disappear under a hoodie. the kind that fills a boy’s bedroom with the scent of petrichor and lazy light and something warm, something waiting.

inside, the air is thick with the hum of effort and youtube hair tutorials.

yang jeongin is frowning.

deeply. intensely. so much that the tiny crease between his brows could write a thesis on how absolutely ridiculous this is.

his long legs are folded awkwardly on his bed, laptop perched dangerously on a too-fluffy pillow, volume turned down low like he’s committing a crime. on-screen, a chipper woman with shiny nails is explaining, once again, how to start a simple three-strand braid. he doesn’t know what “detangle thoroughly” is supposed to mean when the practice mannequin he bought off some shady online store came tangled, like the thing had beef with him in a past life.

jeongin sighs. sharp and dramatic. like a man defeated by plastic hair.

"why am i doing this," he mutters, though it's the twentieth time he’s said it and the answer never changes.

his fingers, ringed and slender, hover in the air like he’s diffusing a bomb. he’s watched four videos already—two american vloggers, one british lady, and a girl named chloe who made it look suspiciously easy. they all say the same thing: divide the hair, cross one over the other, repeat.

but his fingers? his fingers are traitors. they fumble. they hesitate. they grip too hard, twist the strands weirdly, somehow create a knot so intense it feels personal.

"great," he deadpans, staring down at the mess he’s made. “it looks like i braided a broomstick with anxiety.”

still, he doesn’t stop.

not even when his phone buzzes with a message from seungmin in their group chat.

[minimin]: iyennie what are you doing you’re too quiet [maknaeontop]: cry-typing bc love makes me stupid [minimin]: ew [minimin]: oh wait are you actually

he locks his phone without replying, because yes, he is actually. and he’s not ready to be bullied about it.

he exhales slowly, dragging a hand through his hair, catching a glimpse of himself in the mirror. model face, they always say. sharp jawline, perfect skin, annoyingly symmetrical.

and yet here he is—sitting cross-legged in neon pyjama pants with strawberries on them, practicing braiding on a fake head like he’s training for the olympics of soft boyfriend behaviour.

he looks back at the wig head. it sits on his desk, propped up like a little goblin staring into his soul. its blank eyes challenge him.

“don’t look at me like that,” jeongin says flatly. “you’re the one who’s not cooperating.”

but the thing is—he’s serious about this.

it started two weeks ago, the first time you’d complained that your hair was being "super annoying" and you just wanted to 'chop it all off and live like a boy in the 2000s.'

you’d said it in passing, curling up against him on the couch, head tilted, the glow of the tv painting shadows across your cheek.

and he’d looked at you then. really looked.

the pout on your lips. the strands falling over your eyes. the quiet frustration under your breath as your fingers tugged a bit too roughly at a knot.

something about it stuck.

that night, after you’d fallen asleep, soft breathing tangled in his hoodie, the loverboy here had stared at the ceiling and thought.. 'i wish i could help. i wish i could do that for her.'

and that was that.

now he’s five videos deep, wrist aching, knees numb from sitting weird. his fingers are shaking, not from exhaustion, but from how hard he’s trying. his tongue sticks out in concentration—just a little, just the tiniest sliver of pink against the sharp lines of his mouth. adorable and determined.

outside, thunder rolls lazily. the window fogs up from the warmth of the room. he smells the faint citrus of his candle—the one you picked out, teasing him for liking “bougie scents” before sneakily smelling it three more times. the one he keeps lit when he misses you. which is often.

the mannequin head tilts slightly as he tugs on a finished braid. it’s not perfect. it’s kinda uneven. a few strands are sticking out. but—it's a braid.

his first real one.

he stares at it for a moment, expression unreadable, then lets out a quiet laugh under his breath. the kind that almost doesn't make a sound. just breath, and pride, and affection leaking out through the cracks in his self-deprecating walls.

“y/n,” he mumbles to himself, “you better bawl when i do this on you.”

a beat. he stares down at the wig, smile twitching at the corner of his mouth.

“…or at least pretend to be impressed. i’m emotionally fragile.”

and with that, he hits play on the next video. french braids this time. no one said love was easy. but jeongin's always been the type to take his time with the things that matter.

and you?

you matter most of all.

. . .

the braid unravels the second he blinks.

one second, he’s staring at it—fingers suspended mid-air like he’s diffusing a bomb, heart beating with the gentle anticipation of accomplishment—and the next, the strands slip like water through his hands.

and the softest little “nooo…” escapes him.

it’s quiet. gentle. like a child watching their sandcastle wash away.

jeongin sighs, slow and guttural, tilting his head back until it thumps softly against his headboard. the rain outside has softened to a drizzle, the kind that clings to windows like a lullaby. the sky is still grey, but there’s a warmth in his room now—a lemony-citrus kind of haze, mixing with the cotton scent of fabric softener from the blanket twisted around his legs. a comfort cocoon. a secret mission cave. the jeongin love lab™ (unofficial name. do not repeat this to anyone).

he’s surrounded by crime scene evidence: a bobby pin clamped between his teeth, a broken hair tie hanging from his wrist, a video paused on the screen of some lady who braided her own hair in twenty seconds. with french flair. while smiling.

jeongin narrows his eyes at her like she owes him money.

"she's mocking me,” he says under his breath, chewing dramatically on the bobby pin.

his phone buzzes again.

[minimin]: are u ok [sooniedoongiedori]: is the kid crying over love again [hyuniret]: what happened to my baby [maknaeontop]: get out [hyuniret]: not until you tell mama what’s wrong [hyuniret]: i’ll bake you cookies [hyuniret]: i’ll kiss your cheeks

jeongin’s nose scrunches, but his heart does that annoying soft thing. the warm thing. the “ugh i guess i like you idiots” thing.

he hesitates only a second before tapping hyunjin’s name. video call.

it rings once.

twice.

and then—

hyunjin answers dramatically. black buzzcut adorned with a pink headband, face glistening from what looks like a very intense skincare routine, lips pursed like a mum who’s just been told her son failed math.

“iyennie!” he gasps, clutching his chest. “you look pale. did someone break your heart? was it seungmin? i’ll kill him.”

“i’m literally fine,” jeongin deadpans, leaning back against the pillow mountain behind him. “this is not a therapy session.”

hyunjin gasps again, but more offended this time. “how dare. first of all, every call with me is a healing experience. second of all—what’s that behind you?”

jeongin freezes.

too slow.

too suspicious.

hyunjin leans in on the screen like a hawk. “is that a… wig head? is that… blonde hair? are you—are you braiding something?!”

silence.

jeongin stares blankly at the screen. “this call is over.”

“nope—nope—not a chance—explain yourself,” hyunjin screeches, kicking something off-screen and nearly knocking over his phone in the process. “wait—is it for y/n? you’re learning to braid for her aren’t you—”

“keep your voice down!” jeongin hisses, darting to shut his bedroom door like a teenager caught sneaking out. “what if she hears you? she’s not even home yet but still—what if the walls are thin or something.”

“my precious soft romantic noodle.”

“don’t.”

“my little handsy craftsman—”

“i will hang up, hyung.”

“so you are braiding! oh my god. you’re literally adorable. i knew you loved her but this is like—baking-level devotion. you're spending too much time with the main loverboy. aka me.”

jeongin mutters something unintelligible and grabs the mannequin again. its plastic eyes haunt him. “i’m just trying to get it right. my fingers keep slipping and she has this one little piece that always falls loose—she tucks it behind her ear, like—like this.”

he mimics it, almost absentmindedly. his eyes soften.

hyunjin notices, and for once, doesn’t interrupt.

there’s something about watching jeongin like this. all his sharp little edges dulled into domestic softness. not performing, not teasing, not being the chaotic maknae or the class clown or the guy who always says something sarcastic when things get too sincere.

he’s just… quiet. and trying.

and that’s the most vulnerable thing of all.

hyunjin clears his throat, gentler now. “okay, listen. i used to braid my hair all the time before i chopped it off, remember?”

jeongin perks up. “yeah, you were like… weirdly good at it.”

“still am, thank you very much. i even practiced on lixie a few times. he giggled the whole time like i was tickling him with angel wings.”

“of course he did.”

“anyway,” hyunjin continues, flipping his camera to demonstrate on a random knit scarf from his bed. “it’s not about making it perfect. it’s about rhythm. breathe with it. like—left, right, center. it’s a heartbeat, not math.”

jeongin raises an eyebrow. “that’s… kinda poetic.”

“i’m kinda a genius.”

“you’re kinda a nerd.”

“you’re kinda in love.”

he doesn’t deny it.

instead, jeongin copies him—slowly, carefully, the way you reach for something delicate in the dark. one strand over. then another. he’s holding his breath again. his knuckles are tense. but his fingers don’t slip this time.

the braid takes shape like a secret blooming.

“hey,” hyunjin says after a minute, voice quieter, eyes warm through the screen. “she’s gonna love it, you know.”

jeongin looks down at the messy braid in his hands. it’s still a little uneven. a little frayed at the end. but it holds. it stays.

he exhales.

“yeah,” he murmurs, almost to himself. “i think so too.”

hyunjin smiles like he knows something ancient. “text me when she cries.”

“i’m not trying to make her cry.”

“no, no, like in a good way. like happy tears. you’re gonna ruin her standards forever.”

“…that’d be kinda iconic, actually.”

“that’s my boy.”

and for once, jeongin lets himself grin.

just a little. just enough.

the screen dims as the call ends. the room is quiet again—only rain against glass, the soft fizz of his candle, the faint smell of vanilla-laced cotton, the memory of your voice somewhere in the fabric of his hoodie.

the braid rests on the mannequin’s shoulder, gentle and crooked and completely real.

and somewhere in his chest, jeongin feels it.

the heartbeat of it. left, right, center.

you, you, always you.

the front door sighs open with the softest creak.

it’s after 6pm—the kind of dusky grey that makes everything feel like it’s been filtered through nostalgia. your arms are full—bag slipping off your shoulder, scarf unraveling from your neck, a paper coffee cup still lukewarm from earlier. you’re tired, windblown, and ever so slightly damp from the rain, which now smells like petrichor and wet pavement and the faint trace of ozone.

“iyennie?” you call out softly, toeing off your shoes, already craving the warmth of him.

no reply.

you frown a little, peeking into the hallway. there’s no music playing. no clatter of a game controller. no fake scoffing at your outfit or teasing demand for a bite of your snack.

nothing. just quiet. thicker than usual.

the lights are on in his room, though. warm, gold-toned. inviting. like honey melting across the walls.

you pause.

knock lightly. “jeongin?”

still no answer.

and so—curious, maybe a little concerned, you push the door open.

what you find… isn’t something you could’ve imagined in a hundred years.

jeongin—model-faced, sharp-jawed, fashion-manicured chaos incarnate jeongin—is on the floor. legs crossed, hoodie sleeves pushed up to his elbows, face scrunched in deep concentration. his tongue pokes out at the corner of his mouth. a wig head with synthetic blonde hair rests in front of him like a bizarre shrine, and his long fingers are tangled awkwardly in the strands.

he doesn’t notice you. not at all. he’s whisper-counting under his breath.

“left, right, center… center, left, wait—fuck—no, that’s not center, wait—why is this so hard?”

he groans. not dramatically. genuinely. like this braid has personally insulted him, his ancestors, and the entire yang bloodline.

you blink.

and then you do the only logical thing in that moment.

you burst out laughing.

jeongin jumps so violently he flings the poor wig head across the carpet. his eyes fly up, wide and accusatory, like you’re the villain in his villain origin story.

“what the fuck— oh my god.”

you’re already wheezing, hand to your chest, leaning against the doorframe. “oh my god. oh my god. you were talking to it. you were braiding a mannequin—iyen-ah, what the hell?”

“i was not—shut up—get out!”

you stumble in further, nearly dropping your coffee. “no way. you can’t erase this from my brain. this is permanent. this is my core memory now.”

jeongin scoffs, snatching the wig like it’s a bomb he’s shielding you from. “why are you even home already? you said six-thirty!”

you blink through your laughter. “it is six-thirty.”

he freezes.

then mutters, “…traitorous clock.”

you drop your bag with a dramatic thud and crawl onto the bed like a predator, face lit up with delight. “oh my god, this is amazing. who were you gonna show? or were you just planning to become a secret braid master and drop it casually in conversation like, ‘oh yeah, i do complicated french braids now, no big deal’?”

“shut up,” he mutters again, cheeks visibly pink.

you hum, sitting cross-legged like royalty, chin in your palm. “so who’s the lucky client, hm?”

jeongin glares. “it’s not for you, if that’s what you’re thinking.”

you lift an eyebrow, unbothered. “oh no?”

“no,” he says, entirely too fast. “your dumb hair’s always falling everywhere. like a goddamn waterfall. it’s annoying.”

you press your lips together to hide the grin threatening to split your face. “right. so naturally, your first instinct is to learn an entire skill set to deal with my dumb hair.”

he throws a pillow at you. you catch it easily.

“you’re so—ugh—you’re so full of yourself,” he grumbles, yanking the hoodie sleeves back down and refusing to look at you. “not everything i do is about you.”

you lean back against the headboard, stretching with a content little sigh. “except when it is.”

he groans again, flopping backwards like a teenager in agony. “i hate you.”

you smile, impossibly fond. “no, you don’t.”

he peeks at you from one eye. “no. i really do.”

you stretch your leg out and nudge his thigh with your socked toe. “you were doing so well, too. you almost had it.”

“whatever. i didn’t even care.”

you nod solemnly. “of course. you were just… having a casual braid session with your… headless friend.”

“she has a name,” he says without thinking.

you gasp. “oh my god, you named her—”

he lobs another pillow, this one stronger. “get out.”

but you’re both laughing now—open and loud and soft around the edges, like this room has folded in to make space for something warmer.

your laughter fades into a smile. your eyes meet his, and there’s a lull, a hush, like the rain’s listening too.

“yennie,” you say, softer now, “you’re actually kind of a genius.”

he scoffs, rolling his eyes, but he doesn’t hide the way his lips twitch upward. “took you long enough to realize.”

you crawl closer, curling up beside him, the scent of your shampoo mingling with the faint cinnamon-sugar of his hoodie. your knee brushes his. your fingers reach out, tangle lightly in the edge of the messy braid still clinging to life.

he watches your hand.

you watch him.

and he says, low, quiet: “i just wanted to get it right.”

your heart does something dumb and fluttery. “why?”

he shrugs. doesn’t meet your eyes. “just figured… you let me touch your hair so much. i should at least learn to do something useful with it.”

silence.

heavy. sweet.

you lean in, press your forehead to his shoulder. he stiffens, then melts.

you murmur, “you’re a dumbass.”

“i know.”

“…but like, my favourite one.”

he grins—smug and shy all at once. “i better be.”

and the rain keeps falling.

and the mannequin keeps watching.

and you—two kids tangled up in love, in sarcasm, in shitty synthetic braids and soft secret affections—just stay there, skin against skin, laughter still echoing like thunder trailing behind lightning.

and you think—this must be what it feels like.

true love, in a room full of pillows and mistakes and too many words.

braided gently between your hearts.

. . .

the next morning is gentle in a way only weekend scan be—slow and sticky, syrup-dripped around the corners.

the room smells like jeongin: bergamot and laundry detergent, worn cotton and leftover vanilla candle from last night. he’s sprawled across your shared bed like a prince who owns the morning, blanket kicked halfway off, hoodie riding up just enough to reveal a sliver of tan skin above his waistband.

you’re already awake, curled into your corner of the mattress, pillow hugging your chest.

watching him.

thinking.

the image of him practicing braids on a wig still lives in your brain rent-free. it flickers behind your eyes every time you look at him now. and you can’t stop smiling. can’t stop remembering the way his fingers fumbled through strands like they were secrets. how he muttered to himself like the mannequin had personally offended him. how he told you, with his whole heart and no eye contact, “i just wanted to get it right.”

you’d kissed his cheek before bed.

he hadn’t brought it up again.

but now—

now, as golden light curls through the curtains and your boyfriend begins to stir—grumbling softly, smacking his lips like a grumpy cat—you decide it’s time.

“hey,” you whisper, reaching to nudge his side.

he flinches, groans. “don’t touch me.”

“it’s ten thirty.”

“i’m asleep.”

“you’re talking.”

“sleep talking. stop flirting with me.”

you roll your eyes fondly. “get up, braid-boy.”

he cracks one eye open, all sleepy lashes and morning puff. “say that again and i’m breaking up with you.”

you crawl closer, lips brushing his temple. “get up. braid. my. hair.”

he stares at you for a long, suspicious second.

then sighs, dramatically. “you’re serious?”

you nod.

and now he’s sitting upright—barely—but upright, hoodie sleeve wiping at his puffy face like a child. his voice is rough and low and wholly unimpressed. “fine. but don’t blame me if you end up looking like a scarecrow.”

“i will cry.”

“you always do,” he mutters, standing up and stretching like a sleepy cat. his hoodie lifts again. you stare. you’re only human.

you grab your brush and sit cross-legged on the floor, facing away from him. “you’re going to regret saying yes when i post this on instagram with the caption; ‘my boyfriend is a hairstylist now.’”

from behind you.. “post that and i’m deleting your animal crossing island in your sleep.”

you gasp. “that’s evil.”

he plops down behind you, cross-legged, his knees brushing yours. his fingers skim your shoulder blades as he gathers your hair in his palms.

“you’re evil,” he murmurs, and somehow it sounds loving.

your breath catches.

there’s something about the way his fingers move through your hair—careful, cautious, reverent. jeongin is often clumsy with affection, never sure what to do with the way he feels things. but now? with your head bowed, his hands sifting through strands like wind through grass?

it’s almost reverent.

almost sacred.

“you’re being weirdly gentle,” you mumble.

“shut up. your hair’s delicate. like a baby angel’s.”

you snort. “i’m going to vomit.”

“you asked for this.”

his fingers begin to work—slowly, hesitantly. a tug here. a curse there.

you feel his knuckles brush your scalp, his thumbs press against your crown.

it’s quiet, but not heavy.

your eyes close.

you breathe in: the crisp cotton of his hoodie. the faint smell of coffee from the kitchen. the feel of his breath ghosting the back of your neck.

then:

“ow—jeongin!”

“you moved!”

“i breathed.”

“well, breathe quieter.”

you twist around just enough to glare at him. “you are insufferable.”

he meets your eyes, lips twitching. “and yet, you’re letting me braid your precious princess hair.”

you frown. cross your arms. sulk.

jeongin pauses.

“oh no,” he says flatly. “the pout’s out. god save us.”

you jut your bottom lip farther out.

he groans, head dropping against your shoulder. “you’re going to milk this forever, aren’t you?”

you nod, slowly.

he laughs softly into your shoulder. “god, i’m in love with an actual cartoon character.”

you whisper, teasing, “you love me.”

he breathes, “so much it makes me stupid.”

and he doesn’t say it like a confession. he says it like it’s already been written somewhere in the sky, like it’s just fact. like “the sun rises,” or “your hair always gets stuck to his hoodie,” or “you make him soft without trying.”

you swallow.

your pout melts.

you whisper, “then make it pretty.”

he smiles. “always.”

and he keeps braiding.

the rest is gentle chaos.

he loses a strand. swears. starts over. pulls too tight. apologizes. yells at the hair. tells it to behave. tells your hair to behave.

you nearly cry laughing.

he finishes eventually.

“it’s awful,” he says, smug.

you glance at the mirror. it’s crooked. a little lumpy. possibly about to fall apart.

you beam. “it’s perfect.”

he rolls his eyes. “you’re such a liar.”

you grab his hoodie and yank him toward you. “no. i’m in love.”

he blinks. all that sass melts from his face like butter in sun.

“i—”

you press your forehead to his, breath tangled. “you don’t have to say it back.”

he does, of course.

“but i do. and i'm in love with you, too.”

you’re still turned toward him, knees touching, the scent of his hoodie weaving its way through your senses like thread through needle. the room hums with the afterglow of laughter, the kind that’s still stitched into the corners of your cheeks, still warming the undersides of your ribs.

you giggle—forehead brushing his, your breath ghosting between the spaces where his lashes flutter.

soft.

sacred.

“it is really good,” you whisper, like it’s a secret meant for no one but him. “you should become a hairstylist—”

and suddenly, he moves.

not away.

toward you.

he grabs your wrists with gentle fingers, tugging you forward so fast your balance tips. a startled squeak leaves your lips as you tumble into his chest, all cotton warmth and steady heartbeat, your hands pressed flat against the soft fabric of his hoodie, your nose bumping against his collarbone.

he laughs.

of course he laughs—rich and golden and boyish, like the sound of sunlight finding a windchime. you’re still gathering breath, blinking up at him, when his arms wrap around you—tight but not suffocating, possessive in the softest way. like a secret folded into a sweater. like a kiss that already happened, even before lips met.

“don’t—” you breathe, muffled into his hoodie, “ambush me.”

“you were being cute,” he murmurs, somewhere near your hairline. his voice is velvet and sin. “i couldn’t help it.”

“warn me next time—”

“nope,” he says, smiling into your scalp, “i like this method.”

and then—he pulls back just enough to see your face.

his fingers curl beneath your jaw. his thumb brushes a stray hair behind your ear. your breath hitches—because his eyes, usually full of mockery and sass, are now soft. unsharpened. like dusk settling into the horizon.

“say it again,” he smirks.

you blink. “say what?”

“that it’s good. the braid.”

you roll your eyes, pretending your heart isn’t melting like butter on a stovetop. “you’re really fishing for validation, huh?”

“i braided human hair for the first time. i deserve a grammy.”

“that’s not how that works—”

he silences your teasing with a kiss.

gentle.

melting.

a touch of lips that feels like a promise made without language.

you don’t realize your hands have slid up to his shoulders, your fingers curling into the warm dip where his neck meets hoodie. his skin is soft there. familiar. yours.

the kiss deepens—not in pressure, but in emotion. it stretches long, like honey poured slow. like time forgot to tick forward.

and when he pulls back, it’s only enough to whisper, “thank you.”

you tilt your head. “for what?”

“for letting me touch your hair.”

you blink, thrown off by the sincerity.

his grin is lopsided, his thumb still drawing lazy circles into your skin. “it’s… i don’t know. it feels like… trust.”

you go silent.

because it is.

because he gets it.

and that’s how you know—really know—you’re in love. with him.

you lean forward and rest your forehead against his again, both of you folded in like an origami heart—quiet, intricate, impossible to untangle.

“i love you, you know,” you whisper.

he hums. smirks. presses another kiss to your nose like punctuation. “i know.”

then adds, smug, “you love my braid skills and my face. admit it.”

you groan. “you ruined it.”

he snickers, pulling you closer again, your braid getting smooshed between your shoulders and his hoodie.

“baby.”

“what?”

“you’re stuck with me.”

you grin against his shoulder. “yeah. i know.”

and the world, for one small moment, feels like a soft pillow, a warm hoodie, and the safest arms to ever exist.

𝑝𝑒𝑟𝑚𝑎𝑛𝑒𝑛𝘵 𝘵𝑎𝑔𝑙𝑖𝑠𝘵 ��ৎ @cosmicalily @hyunjiiza @modesttiger @woozarts @katsukis1wife @shotngun @reignessance @peskybirdysya @honeyybbuubblleess @ellemir2404 @4ng3l-ch1ld @urlocalmultigroupfan @its-stayville-forever @ashtxrie @minlixyaoi @shuuporanglinos @bobaluvzz @inlovewithstraykids @yourfavoriteakutagawakinnie @mhluvie @channieschocco @m-325 @my-neurodivergent-world @unbel1ve4ble @cowboylikemalika @jeonginsbaee @pansexual-and-eating-pancakes — fill out this form to be added !!

comments, likes, asks and reblogs are always appreciated !! req. are officially closed till the month of june. thank you for reading, hope you liked it <3 © heartsbyani, dearmini '25 ★

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astrologydray · 1 day ago

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Ruler of the 12th through the houses

ruler of the 12th house through the houses, one of the most spiritually potent placements in the chart. The ruler of your 12th house shows where your deepest healing and spiritual evolution wants to unfold. This is the house of your spirit guides, hidden superpowers, and private battles.

12th House Ruler in the 1st House

You carry the unseen with you.

You’re intuitive, psychic, and sensitive AF. You may appear dreamy, ethereal, or mysterious — because you embody 12th house themes. Your subconscious is part of your identity. Gift: Healing presence, spiritual aura, psychic instincts. Identity confusion, absorbing others’ energy. “I walk between worlds.”

12th House Ruler in the 2nd House

You ground the spiritual into the material.

You may channel your intuition into building wealth, creating art, or healing others through touch and presence. You could inherit spiritual gifts or generational patterns around survival. Gift: Sacred sensuality, money magic, value-based intuition. Feeling unsafe to be seen or trust in abundance “I make the invisible, tangible.”

12th House Ruler in the 3rd House

You channel from the divine mind.

You may receive messages through dreams, downloads, or synchronicities. Writing, speaking, or teaching may be spiritually healing — but you may keep much of your voice hidden. Gift: Dreamy writer, intuitive communicator, psychic translator. Mental fog, confusion, or escapist thinking. “I speak what spirit whispers.”

12th House Ruler in the 4th House

Your roots hold your healing.

You may carry ancestral trauma — but also incredible generational gifts. Your inner world is deep, private, and spiritually charged. Home is a sacred temple or a portal for healing. Gift: Ancestral wisdom, deep emotional intuition. Emotional isolation, fear of being known. “My soul remembers where I came from.”

12th House Ruler in the 5th House

You create from the soul.

Your art, love life, and inner child are deeply connected to your spiritual path. You may be a secret romantic, or use creativity to process emotions you can’t express directly. Gift: Healing through art, sacred sexuality, divine play. Self-sabotage in love, fear of being fully seen. “I create to remember who I really am.”

12th House Ruler in the 6th House

You turn the sacred into ritual.

You have the power to channel divine energy into your daily life — whether through healing work, service, or wellness. Your body might reflect your spiritual/emotional state. Gift: Intuitive healer, spiritual discipline, energy worker. Illness linked to suppressed emotions, burnout. “My devotion is my medicine.”

12th House Ruler in the 7th House

Relationships are spiritual contracts.

You attract karmic partners — lovers or friends who help you awaken. You may lose yourself in others, or form soul bonds that force you to confront your subconscious wounds. Gift: Mirror healing, sacred union, emotional depth. Co-dependence, attracting unavailable or confusing partners. “Love teaches me how to heal myself.”

12th House Ruler in the 8th House

You are a shadow weaver.

You feel energy, emotions, and hidden truths deeply. Your spiritual work may involve death, trauma, sex, or psychology. You’re a natural mystic or medium. Gift: Deep psychic ability, power to transmute pain. Fear of your own power, emotional suppression. “I alchemize darkness into light.”

12th House Ruler in the 9th House

Your spirit seeks truth.

You’re drawn to mysticism, philosophy, and spiritual teachings. You may travel far (physically or mentally) to find yourself. Dreams and visions may be tied to past lives or higher knowledge. Gift: Spiritual teacher, cosmic explorer, wisdom-seeker. Escaping into ideas instead of healing emotion. “I remember through seeking.”

12th House Ruler in the 10th House

Your legacy is spiritual.

You may be called to do spiritual work publicly — or bring healing into leadership roles. You could have hidden talents that shape your career. Your reputation might come from what you’ve overcome. Gift: Public healer, creative mystic, compassionate leader. Fear of visibility, hiding your true calling. “My purpose is guided by something higher.”

12th House Ruler in the 11th House

You dream with the collective.

You’re tapped into the collective unconscious. You might manifest your dreams in quiet or indirect ways — or be part of online/spiritual communities that feel like home. Gift: Channel for collective energy, digital mystic, manifestor. Feeling disconnected or like an outsider. “My vision was planted in me for the future.”

12th House Ruler in the 12th House

You are the mystic.

You have strong psychic gifts, access to ancestral memory, and a deep spiritual life. You may crave solitude and need extra rest. Dreams, music, water, and art are sacred portals. Gift: Divine connection, healing presence, intuitive downloads. Isolation, victim mindset, hiding your magic. “I live between realms — and I came to heal.”

#astro notes #astrology #birth chart #astro observations #astro community #astrology observations #astrology community #astrology degrees #astro #astroblr #astrologyposts #astrology content #astrology insights #12th house

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claddaghriings · 3 days ago

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What song makes you feel better? Hope is the thing with Feathers from Honkai Star Rail

What is your go to comfort show? Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Angel, or Charmed

Reading or writing? Why? Both! Sometimes I go with reading because some days I don't feel like writing

Whats your favorite feeling? Not sure, maybe relaxed and cozy?

How do you like to take care of yourself? Not sure how to answer this really ;;

What’s your favorite candle scent? Cinnamon apple or sugar cookie!

Who do you feel most like yourself around? My best friend, she knows who she is

Whats a fabric/texture that’s nostalgic for you? Velvet

Best childhood moment? Honestly? Any memories I have with my uncle, grandpa or older cousin

When was the last time you laughed so hard you cried? (or just felt really good afterwards) I wanna say the last time me and my friend played a game together and we messed around the whole time

Do you have a comfort item? Tell us about it! My black Star Wars sweater (in Winter) or my purple Angel tshirt

What calms you down? Listening to music or looking at things for a ship/character I love

Bath or shower to relax? Shower!

Whats something upcoming that you’re excited for? The new Tomodachi Life game even if its only on Switch 2

Comfort food? Basic answer? Mac and Cheese

What’s something you want to create soon? Hopefully some more Bangel AUs!

How do you feel best loved? Uhhh

What age in life do you think you’ll feel most yourself at? I dunno

Have you ever written or received a love letter? Nope, at least not one that wasnt mocking

Tell us about a memory you hold close to your heart. Kind of hard to pick just one!

Tea, Coffee, or hot cocoa? All three, but most hot chocolate

Name of your favorite playlist? My Bangel(us) playlist

Have you ever received flowers? Nope and that's alright because I have bad allergies

Who is your bestfriend? @nagisa-n3ko

If your soul was a color, what would it be? Purple or Red

If you could live anywhere with anyone you want, where would it be and who would you bring? Maybe Japan with the previously mentioned friend?

Do you like to garden? Have you ever grown something? One time when I was a kid I tried to grow a pumpkin in my backyard but then a rabbit ate the plant..

What are you proudest of? My fanfictions and edits mostly

Are you a kind person? I try my best to be but sometimes people have a knack of getting on me upset easy

What do your hobbies look like? Writing, making edits, playing games, all sorts!

No pressure tags: Anyone who wants to do this!

✨soft asks✨

What song makes you feel better?

What is your go to comfort show?

Reading or writing? Why?

Whats your favorite feeling?

How do you like to take care of yourself?

What’s your favorite candle scent?

Who do you feel most like yourself around?

Whats a fabric/texture that’s nostalgic for you?

Best childhood moment?

When was the last time you laughed so hard you cried? (or just felt really good afterwards)

Do you have a comfort item? Tell us about it!

What calms you down?

Bath or shower to relax?

Whats something upcoming that you’re excited for?

Comfort food?

What’s something you want to create soon?

How do you feel best loved?

What age in life do you think you’ll feel most yourself at?

Have you ever written or received a love letter?

Tell us about a memory you hold close to your heart.

Tea, Coffee, or hot cocoa?

Name of your favorite playlist?

Have you ever received flowers?

Who is your bestfriend?

If your soul was a color, what would it be?

If you could live anywhere with anyone you want, where would it be and who would you bring?

Do you like to garden? Have you ever grown something?

What are you proudest of?

Are you a kind person?

What do your hobbies look like?

#tumblr games #tagging game #questions

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lieslab · 22 hours ago

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Dying star

꘎♡━━━━━♡꘎ ꘎♡━━━━━♡꘎

Pairing: Og8 X gn reader

Summary: The group's contract renewal goes in a direction nobody was expecting because of the fans' irrational demands.

Genre: 9th member AU

Word Count: 4.8k

A/N: Realistic or not, the best thing about fiction is that anything can happen because it's not real. Requestee, you wanted Itzy in this and they are here. They're not here a ton, but they are slipped in as you wanted <3

_ _ _

It all started as an accident. Truly, that’s all it was. When Yuna asked you to film a TikTok collaboration with the rest of Itzy, you agreed. Why not? As neighboring groups at JYP, you all saw a lot of each other throughout the building.

The internet is the belly of a beast. People will chew you up and spit you out, killing your spark before it begins. As the 9th member of Stray Kids, you found your spark a long time ago. It washed over you like a tidal wave on stage. A tape unveiled all the previous harsh memories.

The tears during the survival show. Late nights and early mornings. The dull feeling of hunger clawing around your stomach, desperately searching for nutrients, but it never found any. Sore muscles. Shaky hands. Lungs without a breath; nearly a heart without hope.

At least you had the guys. Interlocked and chained around you, you managed to cling onto one another’s spirits and keep them floating above the surface. From the get-go, you always struggled against the masses on the internet. So much so, when the group created personal Instagrams, you didn’t share the excitement.

You posed with a crooked smile, flashing small hearts, and trying to appease the fans that actually liked you. You always held doubts deep down. You dubbed them pity fans and tried to pull yourself from that self-belief, but it lingered in the back of your brain. It crept down beside you at night and whispered in your ear before you fell asleep. What if you really weren’t good enough?

They dubbed you the odd member of Stray Kids. The guys told you not to worry. They waved off your anxieties the best that they could. They were all laced with their own, but they couldn’t stand when another member stood toe-to-toe with their own inner demons. Together as one, continuing forever; a train screaming on tracks, one without brakes.

You loved the members of Itzy. Some of the guys had closer friendships with the girls than you did. Stories swapped in dorms. You laughed when Changbin recounted when Chaeryeong slipped in the middle of the company hall. Her legs sprawled out in a cartoon fashion and she landed with an “oof.”

Hyunjin fondly recalled memories of Yeji from back when they were friends during their high school days. You picked up tidbits about the girls without meaning to. Naturally, along the growth of your group, you grew fond of their group, just as they were fond of Stray Kids.

When you danced in that TikTok, it blew up. You didn’t understand why, but you appreciated it. The song went viral and hit some of the top charts. To celebrate, you offered to treat them to dinner. What you weren’t expecting? A worker from Dispatch snapping a photo of your table laughing from across the way.

When the photo hit the internet, the fandom changed drastically. You didn’t understand it and neither did the group. You’d been a part of it since the start, but the push began. Domino-after-domino fell. When you slipped outside of the company building with Changbin one day, your eyes spotted the protest truck first.

A demand for you to be booted from the group. The laughter shared with Changbin ceased. The saliva in your mouth went dry. Your happiness dried up. Your heart bled. The words were an unexpected slap in your face.

You knew people didn’t quite like you. It existed on the internet, but when you saw it in front of your face, it broke something in you. Everyone knew it, but they tried to keep you upbeat.

“They don’t know what they’re talking about.”

“They’re just jealous that you’re in the group.”

“Don’t listen to them, it doesn’t matter.”

But it did matter. It mattered a lot.

~ ~ ~

You didn’t question why you began making more content with Itzy. When your manager directed you to spots where they filmed content, when you appeared in more of their Instagram photos, you didn’t question any of it like you should have.

Their fandom was nicer. The Itzy fans took to you instantly. Your Instagram comments became slathered with outpouring love for you. It was a nice change of pace, temporarily. Slathering you in heart emojis, flooding your inbox with warmth, you grew closer with the members.

On contract renewal day, you spent the evening wide awake. You and the guys already discussed renewing your contracts on your own. The story wasn’t over yet. You all had a lot more plans and project ideas.

In the hall, Ryunjin flashed you a thumbs up and a big smile. “Cheer up! It’s going to go great!”

You thanked her with a nervous smile. A hand playfully hit your side as you walked by. She laughed, on the way to her own meeting with her members and their manager’s team. Her touch lingered, a gentle reminder that you weren’t alone.

In the conference room, the beige walls felt like a prison. Confined to a cell with your fellow members, you picked out an open chair beside Han. He called your name excitedly and shifted closer. “Do you think I can convince them to let us curse freely this year?”

You shrugged, “maybe. Who knows. Is that your only request?”

“It’s one of the few I have.”

They were just as nervous as you. You could see it in the way Chan ran a hand through his hair. Felix squinted at a small list in front of him. He bit down on the end of a pen in his mouth. Jeongin’s knee bounced without stopping. He had to force himself to keep his fingernails away from his mouth.

Your stomach twisted into tiny knots. You should have skipped breakfast all together. So nervous, you feared it creeping back up and making a mess all over the conference room table. Your fingers tapped along the cool surface, trying to remain calm.

When your manager came in, you sat up a little straighter. All nine of you greeted him and waited for new contracts to be passed out. Your manager went around placing thick stapled packs of paper in front of each member.

Worried eyes drifted through the comic sans words. Words, words, and more words. Sign on the dotted line here. A flipped page, another filled with words, and then another signature.

Your manager reached Han and placed the final contract down before him. He scanned the first few sentences and glanced over to you, expecting yours to appear in front of you, but it never did. Instead, heavy footsteps faded onto the other side of the table.

Your heart stopped. You couldn’t breathe. Someone shoved a knife through the center of your heart. Why didn’t you have a renewal contract in front of you?

Han cleared his throat and called the manager’s name. “Why doesn’t our ninth member have a contract? Did you run out of paper in the office?”

He shifted and leaned forward in his chair. Confusing glances shifted to one another. Chan’s eyes found your face. For a brief moment, you swore he saw your soul. The way it crumbled and slipped into sand before his fingers.

You looked away, glancing down at the table. Your leader did what he always did. He stuck up for you instantly. “Yeah, why is-” He cut off when the manager held out a hand to him.

“Yes, I know. Let’s talk about the elephant in the room. I’m getting there, Chan. Let’s just take a moment to breathe.”

Your fingers dug into your knees. This was it. The moment you dreaded. You wouldn’t be offered a renewal contract. Your time as an idol slipped by in a flash. The last tour was the last and you didn’t even know. What would become of your career now?

“I’m sure we all know that there’s been pushback from the fans about…” He trailed off, unable to say your name. Deep down, this hurt him, too. He didn’t want to be the one to give you the news.

He sucked in a deep breath, glancing up, silently praying for the courage to kill off another dream. The wheel turned again. The cut-throat industry killed another dream. There would be no recovery. Not for your ego. Not for your hopes. Without this, you were certain you’d die.

They dubbed you the traveling member. As an odd number of Stray Kids, when dorms were assigned, someone had to have three members instead of two. You refused. You gave yourself up, not wanting to miss the guys.

One week, you stayed with Chan and Jeongin. The next, you’d switch to Felix and Seungmin. Minho and Han. Changbin and Hyunjin. You always cycled through one week a month. Sleeping on couches and occasionally, the air mattress if you set it up.

You didn’t mind it. You didn’t have a personal bedroom, but there were pieces of you in each of their dorms. Your hand sculpted and painted magnets hung papers and grocery lists, on the kitchen fridge, in Changbin and Hyunjin’s dorm. The three of you spent hours playing with air dry clay. Shaping, molding, baking, and painting; attaching the magnets with hot glue, shrieking when you burnt the tips of your fingers.

The customized XBox controller you purchased sat with Felix and Seungmin’s controllers in their dorm. Each time you were over, the three of you slung over one another on the couch. You smacked remotes out of hands and made loud noises, trying to distract and kill each other in a handful of different video games.

In Minho and Han’s dorm, they let you hang your family photos. They let you turn the living room into a memory maze. You slathered photos of the band everywhere. Tucking your own family and friends into smaller frames, so they were hidden among the group.

Chan and Jeongin’s dorm came with an extra closet. They let you use it to house your clothes. You traveled from dorm-to-dorm with a backpack. If you needed something, you let yourself in with their key, snuck in, and snuck back out.

What would you do without all of that? The laughter when Han made something wrong by accident because he misread the directions. The late night talks with Chan because in the darkness of the night, you knew dark thoughts could appear. You didn’t want your leader to feel alone as you felt sometimes.

The teasing remarks made by Seungmin when you woke up on the couch, looking like you survived a midnight tornado. Twisted clothes, messy hair, and the occasional dried stream of drool. He never let you forget it. Not once. Your visits left him with morning ritual rights.

“The fans are threatening to boycott the next comeback and I’m sorry, but we can’t take that chance.”

“So what are you saying?”

“Bullshit!” Felix’s hand slammed the table. “You can’t just-”

“Fuck no!”

He sighed, lifting up his callused hands again. “I’m sorry, but this isn’t my decision to make. We have to think of what benefits the company. This isn’t their fault, it’s not.”

“That’s a crazy thing to say when you’re making it seem like it,” Jeongin mumbled beneath his breath. His jaw clenched, eyes narrowed at his contract, and he shook his head.

You didn’t know whether to laugh, or cry. Your hands tightened around the denim fabric of your jeans. Your group, friends, and family members stuck up for you, but it wouldn’t matter in the end. You knew that. Company decisions were always final.

“But this isn’t the end of the road for you,” your manager continued. “Just because you’re not working out here, the Itzy fanbase loves you. They’re in a conversation with their own management team right now. If you’re willing-”

“No!” Felix snapped and shoved himself up. The chair rolled away behind him. “No! You can’t do that! Itzy has been a group for years and we’ve been a group for years! They don’t belong with Itzy, they belong with us!”

“I know, Felix, and I believe that.”

“Then why aren’t you trying to change this outcome? Tell the supposed fans to fuck off!”

“I tried. I’m powerless in this situation. We have investors in the company. You’re one of the top groups in the company. If fans boycott your comeback, it’ll tank the stocks. Our investors will-”

“We don’t care about the investors! You can tell them to go-”

Changbin reached over and gently patted Felix’s shoulder. He scowled, but slowly sank back in his seat. “What he means to say,” Changbin took over, “is that this isn’t fair. Not to them, or us.”

“I know it’s not and I’m sorry, but my hands are tied.”

Chan stood from his chair with an alarming amount of calmness. “Then we’re not signing the renewal contracts without every member of our family being involved.” He grabbed his contract and began walking around the table, collecting each of the contracts.

The guys didn’t object. Felix picked his own blank contract up eagerly and handed it to him, but not before glaring at their manager. “Yeah, what he said.”

“Stop.”

Chan glanced over at the sound of your voice.

“So I can still be an idol? I’ll just be placed in Itzy’s group?”

A hair ran through the manager’s spiked black hair. “Yes. You’ll train with them instead of Stray Kids.”

“But I don’t know all of their songs. There’s five members and they all have song parts. Their dances are all cemented and-”

“They’re just finishing up an old era. In a few months, they’ll have another. New dances. New songs. We’ll split it all up evenly. We can handle the rest when we need to. Their team is willing to do whatever it takes to keep you an idol, all you have to do is agree.”

A heavy silence filled the room. Such quietness, you could hear a pin drop. Your heart ached, but you said the words, anyway. “I’ll do it.”

“You can’t!” Felix cried.

“He’s right, this isn’t a good idea.” Seungmin spoke up for the first time. “This is only going to cause more chaos. If you bow down to the fans this time, they’ll become greedy and-”

“I’m sorry,” your manager uttered again. “I did everything, guys. I tried it all. The superiors are only looking at the business side of things. They’re not budging.”

Chan softly called your name. He reached out across the table and went for your hand, but you pulled away. “It’s okay,” you whispered. “I’ll manage. Sign your contracts and keep going.”

You blinked, trying to keep the burning tears at bay. “I’ll figure it out. You always said I’ve been a good problem solver.”

The stacks of contracts in front of him mocked you with paper snarls. The cruel whispers of fandom mockery grumbled to life in the back of your head. You used the table to push your body up and pushed in your chair.

“If you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go use the restroom.”

You ducked your head, hoping to get out of the room before the tears cascaded down your cheeks. Your manager rushed after you, placing an arm around your shoulder. “It’s alright. I’m sorry. I wish it could be different, but let me show you where to meet their team first. The behind the scenes crew can’t wait to meet you. They’ve heard a lot of good things.”

The manager led you away from eight speechless guys. Tears pricked up in Felix’s eyes. Han slumped down in his chair, tugging his sweatshirt’s hood over his eyes. Hyunjin’s eyes went up to your empty seat.

The memories of paint smearing everywhere and staining your skin during the magnet painting came back. He taught you and Changbin how to add small details with fine-tipped paint brushes. The laughter, the joy, and the memories, he thought that’d last forever.

You stood up and walked through the door, sucking up all the hopes and dreams, you still carried them within the beating ventricles of your heart.

~ ~ ~

On the outside, you looked fine, but you crumbled on the inside. One week into the new formation, you tried your best. The day you started, you hit the ground running.

You recorded vocals in a different music studio. Every time the door opened, you expected the guys to appear, but they never did. Producers floated in and out of the room. You all worked hard to get the notes right.

Usually, you hit higher notes with ease, but not anymore. Just this morning, it took you over twenty minutes to hit a note. With 3racha, it would have taken less than five. Shame crept into your bones.

In another dance practice room, it laid out similar to the ones Stray Kids used. The only difference? The chaos wasn’t the same. The shared giggles from the girls and inside jokes, you didn’t understand any of it.

You tried, forcing yourself to laugh at the right times. You followed along with the choreographer. On water breaks, you felt alone. The girls tried to include you, but you couldn’t stop moping. You missed the warmth of the guys you called your family. You loved Itzy, but it wasn’t the same and it’d never be the same.

It weighed so heavy on your shoulders, it began to affect your dance. You were following the same choreographer that you once used for a handful of Stray Kids dances. They pointed at your defeated posture, gestured to your feet, and lectured you on your poor effort.

Your cheeks flushed scarlett. Your bottom lip quivered. To make it worse, you were told to suck it up. One of the girls opened their mouth to say something, but the words didn’t come out in time.

You spun around, storming off, unable to handle the critique. You couldn’t. Not like this. It wasn’t in you. You couldn’t perform and pretend to be someone you weren’t.

Despite the harshness from your previous fandom, you loved being an idol. Your heart nearly burst on stage when arenas filled with singing fans. The light from light sticks reflected on the tears in your eyes.

Love locked together. The energy heightened. You grew stronger from it. You were chained together with your family. Without them, you were nothing. At this point, you didn’t care about giving up on the idol life.

Your career ended the moment your manager led you from the room.

~ ~ ~

Minho hadn’t seen you in a few days. Nobody had. Your absence lingered like a ghost. The parts of you in each dorm, it was all they could think about. The moment you found out you were going to switch groups, you went back to Chan and Jeongin’s dorm.

Every piece of clothing you owned, you threw it in a suitcase. When that filled, you took it out, dumped the contents into your car, and came back for more. You couldn’t face them again. Not when the hurt still sat so fresh.

They’d each see you in the halls from time-to-time, but you couldn’t handle conversation with them. You knew how it’d end. Sobbing, breaking down, and in tears. You had to be strong for them. A clean break sounded better. At least, they’d be able to get over your disappearance quicker.

When Chan and Jeongin came home, a handwritten sticky note awaited them along with all four keys to each of the four dorms. You checked yourself into a hotel. You’d come back at a later date to collect the rest of your stuff.

Their manager said you’d be transferred over to one of the Itzy dorms. They weren’t sure which one, but he felt certain you’d like it there. The girls were always upbeat and made everyone around them laugh. You’d never be bored.

Just as Minho rounded the corner, you slammed into him hard. He reached out to steady you, calling your name softly. You glanced up through tears and clumpy eyelashes. “Sorry, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to.”

“Are you okay?”

You nodded and pulled back. “Yeah, rough day. You know I get them sometimes.” He reached a hand out to grab you again, but you walked around him. “Excuse me, I’ve gotta go.”

You hurried away, leaving him alone, and speechless. You were on a mission to find your former manager. You joining Itzy was a trial run. A temporary thing. Something you hadn’t yet signed a contract to.

You could still leave.

~ ~ ~

When Minho went back into the music recording studio, he was supposed to get back into the booth to record. The door opened and Changbin glanced up from the director’s seat. “Hey, you’re back early. I thought you said you were taking a ten minute break.”

“I’m not doing this.”

“Huh?”

“I’m going home. Come with me.”

“Uh, excuse me?” He raised an eyebrow and gestured to the recording booth. “We have a song to record. A due date lingers and-”

When he uttered your name, Changbin’s face fell. He frowned and pressed a button on the equipment in front of him. Memories of your devastated look in the conference room came back. He missed you. They all did.

“I’m not doing this without them.”

Changbin nodded, toggled another button, and stood up. “You’re right. Let’s go find the others.”

The pair walked out, nearly trampling a nervous Felix. His eyes lingered on the corner of the hall. Changbin called his name and put a hand on his shoulder. “Are you okay?”

“No. Why did-”

“You seen them, too?” Minho asked.

“They look so broken. I can’t handle it. I want them back.”

“We all do, Lix.”

“And that’s why we’re going to find Chan and raise hell, let’s go.” Changbin marched forward, keeping an arm around the emotional weight of the younger member.

The rest of the guys were scattered downstairs at the canteen. Chan had just scanned his meal card when footsteps caused him to turn around. He blinked in confusion as Changbin approached him.

“I thought you said you’d direct until two?”

“Change of plans. If the fans can threaten to boycott our company, so can we.”

“What?”

“You heard me. Come on. Let’s go, Channie hyung. We’re on a mission and you play a part in it, too.” He stepped to the side, revealing Minho hugging a teary-eyed Felix.

The sight caused him to frown. His fingers gripped around his tray. “You know what? You’re right. Screw this.” He slammed his tray on an empty table. “Let’s go.”

Changbin snatched the banana from his tray before rushing after him.

~ ~ ~

“I understand you’re upset, but you can’t do this. Your contracts say-”

“Don’t care,” Seungmin cut off their manager.

“Sue us,” Hyunjin added.

“Good luck, considering we’re your money makers.”

Their manager rubbed the sides of his temples. “You do realize that this might have the opposite effect that you want, right?”

Chan shrugged, “we’ve talked it over. We’re willing to do whatever it takes to get them back. If they’re gone, we’re gone.”

“God, I need a drink.”

They watched as he left the room. In his hands, a stack of handwritten letters from each of the members. Each one went into detail for why you were needed from the group. You weren’t just a group member, you were family, and family fights for one another when times get tough.

Meanwhile, you wiped your tear-stained eyes. Now smudged with black liquid liner, you looked like a crying racoon. You sucked in a deep breath and pushed open the door to the conference room. You knew this was where he went on his lunch break.

To your surprise, you didn’t find him. Instead, you came face-to-face with the eight people you loved dearly. They looked up when the door opened. Hyunjin sat the closest and reached you first.

“Hey, are you okay? What happened?” He grabbed your shoulders, studying your messy face. “Why are you crying.”

“Because they miss us, you idiot,” Seungmin grumbled.

Hyunjin’s arms tugged you close. You slumped into his body instantly. Defeated sobs rocked your body. How many times had this happened years ago? Back when you were a trainee, fighting for your life in the survival group?

The members kept you floating then, but they couldn’t help now. How were you supposed to tell them you were giving it all up? All the dreams you wanted to continue accomplishing? The goals. Future plans. The hopes.

Traveling. Fan interactions. Interviews. Live performances. Ambassador roles. You were done with all of it. The industry finally broke you. The worst part? It wasn’t the industry that put the final nail in the coffin, it was the fandom.

Congratulations. It worked. The hatred spewing between lips. Slathering twitter threads. The hurtful memes being passed from person-to-person. They got what they wanted and where did that leave you?

Alone. Miserable. Isolated. Dying in a ditch and for what crime? Being you? Being a little different? Quieter? Louder? Too much? Too little? Too dramatic? Too cold?

You were hung on the cross and crucified by the fans you adored. Your very own Judas. They gave you up and they didn’t even know. Not yet. The words hadn’t been posted yet. Your transfer wouldn’t be announced until you signed the contract. Now it’d never happen. Not ever.

They would cheer at your dismissal. The company would dub it personal reasons, so they didn’t tarnish their image. Whatever happened to you from here on out, it was your own problem to mend.

Jeongin was the second one up. He walked over and wrapped his arms around you and Hyunjin. Felix threw himself from the chair and nearly took out all of you. It didn’t take long before they were all around you. It felt like old times. Almost.

Only this time, you wouldn’t pull away and enter the shining spotlights on the stage. You’d seal the deal with your manager, sign a few papers confirming everything, and it’d be over. Your time as a k-pop idol would be a thing of the past.

Emotions ran high. The door to the room squeaked open. The manager walked back in and looked up with a face of confusion. It softened when he saw you surrounded by your eight protectors. They slowly pulled away and your light began to dim.

When your manager called your name, you shakily let go of Hyunjin. The future knocked. You had to let go now. No matter how scary, you had to let it go. You wiped away tears and straightened your back, just as your seniors lectured you when you were a trainee.

You opened your mouth to speak, but he beat you to it. A stack of papers stretched out to you. A black pen sat on top. You shook your head, unable to sign the contract for Itzy. You couldn’t betray your group like that.

“Take it and read it. I think you’ll want to look at this one.” He placed it in your hands and stepped back. You wiped your eyes, trying to read everything.

When you read the first sentence, catching the words ‘renewal contract,’ you collapsed to your knees. Felix dropped beside you, worrying about what you were handed. He pulled it away and looked at it.

“This is a renewal contract and-”

“I’m happy to announce the uppers finally agreed. They won’t risk the group boycotting their schedules. It’s a fight they want to avoid.”

You collapsed over into Felix’s body. He dropped the stack of stapled papers and quickly grabbed you. “Hey, it’s okay. I’ve got you.”

“We all do,” Minho added.

“I said we were family for a reason.” Chan walked closer and kneeled down to the other side of you.

Changbin huffed and crossed his arms. “Hyung, this was my idea like two days ago! I started this! Where’s my praise? Just because Minho put it in action today, it doesn’t mean that my credit isn’t due!”

A weak laugh bubbled between your lips. His face lit up and he grinned. “Hey, there it is! That’s my favorite sound!”

“They’re staying at our dorm tonight!”

“Nuh-uh! Fuck off, Innie!” Felix clutched you tighter. “We’re camping out on the couch and laying on Seungmin all night.”

“Woah, no way! I comforted them when they came through the door first!”

“Shut up, Hyunjin!”

“Enough!” Minho snapped. “We’re not doing anything until they sign the contract. The ball is in your court. Are you signing it, or are you just going to lay there soaking it in your tears?”

“Minho, don’t be mean.”

Chan handed you the pen and you shakily signed your name. The moment the first page held your name, warmth flowed back into your heart. You sniffled and scribbled over and over again, not caring to read the words. Chan flipped the pages and you signed them all.

Murmurs of excitement buzzed up again. It really didn’t matter where you spent the night. The truth? No matter which dorm you’d pick, they would all turn it into a nine member sleepover to celebrate you.

Their family was once again reunited and that was the only thing that truly mattered.

| ♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡ | ♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡ | ♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡ |

Taglist: @lia-linny @seungnishi @stellasays45 @emilyywhyy @rockstarkkami @flightlessackerman @inlovewithstraykids @velvetmoonlght @chrizrizz @ari-hwanggg

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tinytarotandtea · 1 day ago

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「 ✦ PICK A PILE✦ 」

What part of you is quietly healing?

Masterlist GET YOUR PERSONAL PAID READING HERE <33 Directions: Take a moment to breathe, calm down and focus as you choose a picture from above. From left to right is pile 1, 2 and 3. Then Scroll down to your pile! Please remember to only take what resonates with you and leave the rest 🫶

Pile One -

Cards Pulled - Knight of Wands Reversed • Ace of Wands • King of Swords

So, pile one, your healing right now is all about finding your spark again. But, in a way that is softer and more grounded than before. With the Knight of Wands Reversed, there is a sense of burnout or hesitation in your drive. Perhaps you’ve felt like you’ve been going full speed ahead with no clear direction or that your energy has been scattered, and now you are pulling back a little to focus on what really lights you up. This part of you is healing from the rush, from the pressure to always be on the go, and it is finding a more aligned path.

The Ace of Wands is telling me that this healing process is all about a new beginning for you, a fresh burst of energy or creativity that is coming in slowly, but surely. It might be quiet at first, like a small flame flickering inside, but it is growing. You are rediscovering your passion, your desire to create and your motivation. But, it’s happening in a way that might feel more like a gentle rise rather than a forceful push.

And with the King of Swords here, your healing has a lot to do with how you think and communicate. There’s a healing in your mindset and the way you make decisions, along with how you’ve come to understand yourself and your boundaries. You’re reclaiming your mental clarity, your sharpness, and your ability to speak your truth confidently. There is a shift happening inside you where you are moving from self-doubt into self-assurance. And it is so damn empowering.

Pile one, you’re quietly healing your inner fire, your ability to take action without burning out and finding your voice again in a way that is more aligned with who you are becoming. It’s slow and steady, but it is going to be so worth it when you step into that energy full force.

Pile Two -

Cards Pulled - King of Pentacles • The World Reversed • Queen of Cups reversed

Okay, so! Pile two, your healing right now is happening in that deep, under-the-surface kind of way. This isn’t flashy and it might not even be something others can see, but it’s powerful. The King of Pentacles tells me that you’re slowly rebuilding a sense of inner security. You’re learning to feel more stable, grounded and safe within yourself, no matter what happens around you. You’re healing the part of you that felt like you had to constantly prove your worth through what you could do or give. Now, though? Now you’re learning that just being is enough.

The World Reversed suggests that you’ve been stuck in a loop for a while. Maybe a cycle that you’ve been unable to close. You might feel like you’re “almost there” but something always feels just out of reach. That part of you, the one that keeps feeling like you’re not finished, or like something is missing, is healing. You’re learning that it is okay for some things to be left imperfect, unfinished, or unknown. You don’t have to rush to the finish line. You’re healing your relationship with completion, and how you define success and closure.

And with the Queen of Cups reversed, you’ve been carrying so much. Emotionally, spiritually, energetically. This card is telling me that your heart’s been a little overwhelmed, perhaps stretched too thin from always holding space for others. But now, you’re healing your emotional boundaries. You’re slowly remembering how to pour into your own cup first. You are learning to hold yourself gently without feeling guilt. This is big. Tender healing in your heart space is happening, and it’s making room for softness, safety, and self-love to come flooding back in.

Pile two, you’re healing the part of yourself that has been holding the world together for everyone else. You are coming home to your own centre, and even if it is a little messy, it is still magic.

Pile Three -

Cards Pulled - The Hierophant • King of Cups • Six of Pentacles.

Oo, okay. Pile three is healing in the spaces between tradition and heart, structure and softness. The Hierophant says that you’ve been carrying a lot of responsibility, maybe you are the one expected to do things “the right way” or always be the strong and wise one. You are healing the part of yourself that feels like it has to follow all those rules just to feel safe or accepted. Now? Now you’re slowly unlearning what doesn’t serve you anymore. And you’re building a belief system that actually aligns with your spirit, not just what you were taught.

With the King of Cups, we’ve got emotional depth. You’re healing your relationship with your emotions, how you express them, how you hold them, and how you give them space. You might be someone who has always been the calm in the storm, the shoulder for others, the one who knows what to say. But now? Now you’re being asked to turn that same emotional maturity inward. To care for yourself the way you care for everyone else. And you’re doing it. Gently, quietly and beautifully.

And the Six of Pentacles is here to tie it all together! You’re healing your balance between giving and receiving. You’ve perhaps over-given in the past, be it emotionally, physically, or spiritually. And now you’re learning that you are just as worthy of care, time and love. You’re someone who deserves to feel supported too. This healing is showing you that you don’t always have to be the one pouring. Sometimes it is your turn to be poured into. That's not selfish, that’s sacred.

Pile three, your healing is wise, heart-cantered and so full of soul. You’re learning to be your own guide and your own emotional anchor. That’s powerful.

#3lisia's tarot 🪷#pick a piles by 3lisia ✨#tarotblr #tarot #tarot reading #tarot spread #tarot cards #pick a pile #pick a picture #pick a photo #pick a card

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bellatrixscurls · 2 days ago

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group activities ii

part one here

pairing : fem reader x slytherin gang x golden trio.

warnings : SMUT. slight choking, nipple play, reader is a virgin, oral (f receiving), dirty talk, teasing, pet names, reader almost has a panic attack, talk of virginity and sex. lmk if i missed any! :)

summary : the slytherin boys have their way with you, but what about those who get left out?

a/n : i hope this is what you expected, feedback is greatly appreciated and needed.

────── ☾ ──────

the next days were a blur. you were not ignoring your friends any longer, but you could tell that they were treating you rather differently.

first, ron started to hold the door for you, theo brought you extra sweets from honeydukes and draco would give you his homework without you even asking.

what was happening? you were almost positive you knew the reason behind it all. so, whilst in transfiguration, you slipped hermione a note.

“can i see you after class?”

she looked at you, a confused expression on her face, but she nodded nonetheless.

you smiled appreciatively and went back to listening to professor mcgonagall, not remotely aware of the pairs of eyes following your every move: tom, mattheo and blaise.

they were concerned. well, they did have a reason to be - you weren’t ignoring them any longer, but you were acting rather differently, not really giving them the time of the day either.

“what do you think she wrote?” blaise nodded his head in your direction, nervously playing with his feather.

mattheo looked up, his eyes focused on the back of your head as if he could read your mind. but seeing that it was no use, his head dropped on the desk. “if only we knew someone who’s learned the art of occlumency.”

“she’s wondering why you lot are acting so unusual since that day” tom hummed, rolling his eyes as he neatly put his notebook back in his school bag. “and it’s legilimency, idiot.”

blaise winced incredulously as he looked back at his friend. “us? i’m sorry you wanna be picked so bad that you’re willing to act nonchalant and humble about it.”

“it’s a skill” he smirked, finally standing up to leave as professor mcgonagall dismissed the class.

“you know, sometimes i feel like we’re so alike” mumbled mattheo happily, earning a dangerous glare from his brother.

watching them whisper to one another, you shook your head - mattheo shoved his brother, who, as unbothered as ever, brushed a hand over his robes while exiting the class.

and you could bet you knew the reason.

“ready to go?” hermione’s soft voice pulled you out of your thoughts, her smile bright as she looked at you.

“sure” you returned the smile, ushering her out of the room with a hand at the small of her back. and once you were positive you were out of earshot, the other students already heading towards the great hall, you spoke up. “listen, i know how this might seem, but you’re the only girl in the group… what’s gotten into them?”

she sighed, using her middle and pointer finger to rub at her temple; this was a discussion she thought she’d never have to have again, not with another girl anyway.

“they… they want you to pick them. each of them wants to be the one to claim your virginity. to claim you.”

“to claim me?” you were beyond confused, you really didn’t think your virginity was such a big deal. at least to you it wasn’t. “have they done the same to you? when you were- you know.”

she laughed softly at your nervousness, gently rubbing your back through your robe. “have you met them? of course they did. but- well, yes, they did.”

your ears perked up at her hesitation. “but?” you questioned rather alarmedly. “but what, mione?”

she took a deep breath before speaking, and you hated how that made your stomach churn. “they were not as possessive back then. they weren’t aware how much it meant. because whoever it is that you choose to do it with, it creates a special bond between you. it’s the first person you feel comfortable doing these things with, the first who gets to kiss every inch of your skin, explore your body” it looked like she was in a haze, daydreaming of the day she’d lost hers.

“oh, i understand” you nodded slowly. “so… who took yours?” you asked even though you could already guess.

“enzo” bingo. and how could you not guess? they were practically always together, always looking out after each other.

humming, you fell deep in thought. how could you ever choose between them? they were all your friends, and you’d never forgive yourself if your decision would hurt any of them or make them feel left out.

so you shook your head, toying with the ring on her finger as you leaned back against the wall. “i could never choose, mione. i don’t want to. i don’t want this to be such a big deal, i just want to get it over with so we can move on and fuck unlimitedly.”

your words made her burst out laughing, softly biting on her lip as a few students passed, and she took your hand in hers, guiding you to to the great hall too. “if you want to be a part of this, you will have to choose. but they won’t pressure you, if there’s one thing that they hate is feeling like they pressured each other into doing something, especially sexual… you have time.”

you nodded and finally, reaching the table, you sat down between draco and tom. “good morning” you greeted softly as you started filling your plate, your mind wandering.

“hey, y/n/n” theo reached over the table to squeeze your hand, a sincere smile on his lips, before draco kicked him under the table, the older boy hissing as he glared at him.

you didn’t really notice that though, you were too busy trying to figure out what you were gonna do.

but the boys seemed to notice that. the way you, so absentmindedly pushed at your meal with your fork, the boiled eggs smashing and the yolk leaking out of them. “woah, what have they done to you, sweetheart?” enzo’s voice was teasing, but in his own soft, characteristic way.

you looked at him, and he frowned at the confused, almost lost look on his face. then back at your eggs, your meal positively looking like a crime scene. “sorry” your voice was soft, barely audible. “m sorry, i’m not even hungry. i don’t know why i even took them.”

your nerves were growing and everyone could sense that, hence why they all shared concerned glances and only tom dared to speak. “can you focus on me? look at me, please” his voice was not like anything you’d heard before. it was soft and gentle, and he placed a hand on your arm, his slender, pale fingers squeezing loosely.

looking up at him, you tried your best to focus on his eyes. his eyes were so beautiful, a gorgeous shade of a deeper blue, and you could swear that you saw the ghost of a smile on his lips, but he quickly regained composure. “do you want to go back to the common room? lay down on your dorm maybe?” he asked and you nodded, arm curling around his own as he stood up, taking you with him.

🤍

you all but threw yourself on the bed, the boys sitting around you - tom and blaise were sitting on the rug by your bed, theo on your armchair, all while draco, enzo and mattheo shared the couch.

“i’m sorry” your voice made them perk up, their expressions almost unreadable, but one thing was for sure - they would do anything to make it better.

“what for, lovie?” asked blaise, his hand twitching as he almost grabbed your hand, but decided against it.

you sighed, mind wandering back to the day before. you had done the same thing : you moped around on the great hall and they had to take you back to the common room. “i’m being a baby. i just… i don’t want to choose.”

theo frowned. “choose what, dolcezza?”

“between you guys” avoiding their eyes, you started playing with tom’s family ring, his hand on the bed just by your head. “i talked to hermione today, and she explained the whole special bond thing, but i… i like all of you. i don’t want a special bond.”

enzo blushed, trying his best to hide his face by leaning his head forward, chin resting on his chest. mattheo nudged him playfully, messing up his perfect hair and causing the boy to whine.

“oh, baby” draco’s voice was soft as he approached the bed, but not before slapping enzo on his crotch. before you knew it, the bed dipped slightly and draco sat by your side, looking down at you lovingly. “we’ve been stupid, making you feel like you had to choose one of us to be your first. we’ve done stupid things and you’ve almost had a panic attack because of it.”

you didn’t say anything, just looked up at him, and the boys all seemed to had gotten closer too. “i don’t want any of you to feel less important. i’ll gladly let you all fuck me.”

you hadn’t realized what you said before it was too late, and even you were shocked. the boys all looked at you like you’d grown two more heads, and you flushed furiously, cheeks now a deep crimson.

“is that right, sweet thing? look at her, boys” mattheo’s voice was taunting, his signature smirk widening as he took a few steps closer to you. “i believe this poor thing only wants us all to feel good, to be able to feel her tight pussy for the first time ever. how sweet is that?”

“so sweet” theo’s voice had turned a lot deeper, need present in his tone. he had that look on his face. the one you’d seen before, directed at you.

“whenever you’re ready, angel, and whoever has you first…” blaise grinned, his hand coming down to caress your voice, your chest rising up and down rapidly. “this pussy’s not going unruined.”

your breath got caught in your throat and you almost choked at the intensity of it all. heat pooled in your tummy as they looked at you, hunger evident in their prying eyes.

“i want it” it was a soft whisper, a breathless, needy confirmation. and when tom’s eyes found yours, you knew you were in for it.

he was usually the most composed one, but in these past couple of days, he’d shocked you. he could be loving, caring and could even lose his composure around the right people. you’d seen glimpses of it before, but never like this, never so vulnerably.

his eyes seemed to twitch, so subtle that you almost missed it. he finally standed, making you feel small under his gaze. “how about we get her wet first, boys? oh, wait-” you didn’t expect it, but in the blink of an eye, tom had pulled your skirt up over your hips, curling two fingers around the hem of your panties.

you were drenched. you couldn’t even get out the gasp that was hanging in your throat, because his fingers just felt so good on your throbbing clit. everyone was silent as he worked on you, spreading your wetness over your slit and holes. “she’s so wet already. what’s gotten you so wet, baby?”

finally managing to gasp and whimper needily, you looked up at him, and he smirked at your helpless state. you looked limp and he fucking loved every second of it.

“answer tom, pretty. he might just stop making you feel good if you don’t” mattheo came to stand at his brother’s side, one arm resting against tom’s shoulder, and for the first time, he didn’t push him away or make a snarky remark. “you know how he gets.”

you whimpered out a soft ‘you’ and that instantly made tom’s eyes sparkle. in a moment of weakness, his thumb started rubbing your clit, and before you knew it, mattheo started massaging over your hole with two fingers. it was a feeling that you could not describe. nothing that you’d felt before.

their fingers felt so good on you, far better than all those time you had gotten off on your own. “t-tom- matty, please” you cried out, your legs begging to shake from the pleasure you were receiving. the way tom was pressing against you, and how mattheo was so close to making you scream on his fingers - it made you dizzy.

��ow, angel” draco was still sitting beside you, his eyes watching you and studying your reactions very carefully. he raised his hand and started stroking your jaw, his cold fingers making you shiver as the boys continued their assault on your cunt, causing you to jolt when tom would occasionally press too hard on your clit.

you looked up at the blond, growing more desperate to have all of their hands on you, your nipples getting harder and achy by the minute. he saw the way you shifted, and when your hard nipples pressed against your white top, the corner of his lips tilted upwards.

“you need my hands, y/n/n?” his hand slowly made its way down your neck, squeezing at the base of it for merely a second before it slid lower. you shivered in anticipation and he carefully pulled your top down, freeing your boobs - you were not wearing a bra. he groaned. “fuck, what are you doing to me?” and he looked into your eyes as if he was really waiting for an answer, but unfortunately you couldn’t give it to him if you wanted.

truth be told, you had not planned any of this. it all just worked out in your favour.

he brought both his hands to cup your breasts, squeezing gently as he watched them bounce back to their original shape, nipples looking eager to be - licked, bitten, tortured - by him.

draco wanted to tease you, he really did. but you looked way too delicious, so he didn’t hesitate and started sucking greedily on your nipple, one of his hands squeezing and pulling at the other one. you could hear him, even if your ears were ringing due to tom and mattheo’s attempts to make you lose your mind. draco was panting, not wanting to pull away from your boobs for one second. it really was a sight for sore eyes.

“feels g-good” you moaned loudly and tangled your fingers in his hair, your attention finally turning back to the boys between your thighs.

mattheo cleared his throat and when you looked at them, tom was wearing an annoyed expression. “didn’t forget about us, did you?” he asked pointedly, and retracted his hand, leaving you squirming for more.

but before you had the chance to blurt out an apology, mattheo spoke up. “i think you’re wet enough, sugar.”

but he didn’t continue, he didn’t make you feel like you had to do something more than that. he left it up to you.

“i want enzo to eat me out” your voice was small and said boy looked at you in shock, that it almost made you take your words back. but before you could do it, he was already on his feet - ready to do anything you pleased.

hermione had told you that enzo was good with his hands and mouth, and you were doing nothing but trying to test that theory.

he looked beyond excited as he looked at your cunt. it was glistening with wetness and a bit of sweat, and your clit looked mouth-watering; it was so swollen and hard.

“you are beautiful” was all enzo said before he buried himself between your legs, his hands holding you as if you were made of glass. “so so beautiful, you look divine” his voice was breathy as he nosed at your clit, pressing a soft kiss there.

draco, on the other hand, was grazing his teeth against your sensitive buds, making your toes curl and your pussy throb at the sensation. his mouth was perfection.

sponging a wet kiss on his temple, a broken cry was ripped from your throat as enzo slipped two fingers inside you, much too easily. his tongue sucked at the bundle of nerves that was your clit, sometimes exploring your sopping folds. “so sweet” he mumbled against you, his mouth not once leaving your heat as he curled his fingers inside of you, hitting a spot that made your eyes roll back into your skull.

“thank you, thank you, thank you-” tears were streaming down your face as you watched the other boys through blurry eyes.

mattheo and tom were jerking off, their cocks red and looking painfully hard, whilst blaise was watching the scene in front of him intently, and you did see his fingers twitching, probably needing to grab at you, but not daring to.

“kiss me” it was a broken plea that earned you quite a few confused glances, even enzo looking at you curiously from between your legs, not once resuming his work. “blaise- baby, kiss me” you whimpered, and kissing you he did.

he pressed his lips against yours, his hand gripping your jaw and holding you in place as he dominated the kiss. he tugged at your bottom lip and you whined, chasing his mouth. “so fucking needy” he groaned and smashed his lips against yours again; the kiss was messy, all tongue and teeth, spit glistening on your chin. “you just need us all, don’t you? you need us to please this desperate, perfect body of yours.”

his teeth sank into the underside of your jaw and you yelped in pain, your fingers digging into the back of his neck. “yes, yes i do!- i’m- i need all of you, i need you to make me feel good.”

“atta girl” mattheo spoke up as he tugged at his cock, his eyes moving from your cunt to your bare chest. “are they making you feel good, angel?”

you hummed and felt the knot in your belly about to snap, enzo now sucking harshly and bullying his fingers into your cunt at a pace that had your legs trembling uncontrollably, but fortunately draco was there to catch you. he placed a firm hand on your thigh, grounding you as he kept sucking and biting at the tender flesh.

“m gonna cum” you choked out and started shaking again, this time not even draco’s force being able to help calm you down. “please, please- i need to cum” you asked for permission, but you didn’t even know who was it that you were asking.

enzo used his free hand to caress your belly, his sweet eyes looking up at you. lost in them, you didn’t even notice when theo stood and walked over to you, his fingers forcing you to look up at him as he spoke lowly, his voice firm and steady. “look up at me when you do” he demanded and you nodded fervently, biting at your bottom lip.

in a matter of seconds, you were cumming. your heart was racing - so much so that it felt like it was trying to get out of your chest - you were sweating and your hands were gripping at anything you could find - draco’s shoulders, enzo’s hair, the sheets.

your walls spasmed around enzo’s skilled fingers, your clit fluttering as he sucked on it, refusing to let go as he moaned against you, his eyes rolling back as he started humping the bed. your cum was heavenly - the taste, how it dripped down his fingers, everything was pure perfection.

and what was even better? theo’s eyes were analysing your every move. how your lips pursed, how your muscles tensed - the way your eyes watered as you struggled to keep them open.

“you’re just perfect, principessa. you did so good” he praised as he leaned in, placing a soft kiss on the tip of your nose.

you breathed out a laugh as you tried to recover from your orgasm and the overwhelming sensations you had gone through, but you had little to no time to do that, because the door flung open and revealed the golden trio.

harry was more pissed than ever judging by the look on his face and his clenched fists, ron was just red with fury, and hermione just looked disappointed, her brown eyes seeming more dull than ever before.

“and what the fuck do you think you lot are doing?”

────── ☾ ──────

#harry potter smut #harry potter x reader #tom riddle smut #tom riddle x reader #theodore nott smut #theodore nott x reader #blaise zabini smut #blaise zabini x reader #draco malfoy smut #draco malfoy x reader #enzo berkshire smut #enzo berkshire x reader #mattheo riddle smut #mattheo riddle x reader #ron wealsey smut #ron weasley x reader #hermione granger smut #hermione granger x reader

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honourablejester · 2 days ago

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… In most stories where robot racism is an issue, the robots in question 100% were designed to be able to think. They were designed to be able to think, act and make judgement calls as well as humans, to enable them to perform human labour. What they weren’t meant to do is develop a sense of self-identity about it, on account of how that makes it difficult to treat them as slave labour.

Now, yes, there are stories where individual robots develop self-awareness, and that is considered essentially aberrant programming, but … well. When you consider that if one has the capability, likely all of them do, and when you consider things like the desire for freedom being historically classified as a mental illness by slave owners, an aberrant program, then that also has its echoes.

The point in most robot racism stories is that the robot in question was also always a person. They were just created into a system that hinges on that never being acknowledged as a possibility, or allowed to be acknowledged as a possibility.

Sure, the robot allegory can be a comparison to marginalized communities if written correctly. But marginalized communities exist independent of those who would use and abuse them.

Is … Is your argument here that slavery is only wrong if someone is kidnapped into it? If someone is born, or in this case created, into slavery, well, sucks to be them, but that doesn’t count? The idea of us creating and manufacturing an entire class of people specifically to be slaves is, broadly, not something with historical precedent, but that’s what speculative fiction does. It imagines our impulses and behaviours in settings where technology or magic gives us tools we don’t have in the real world. (And even with that said, eugenics and slave breeding programmes were a historical evil, and technologies like cloning and artificial intelligence are currently creeping up there to make it a very pertinent current ethical dilemma). And, well. The fact that we created our slaves whole cloth in robot fiction, that we designed them specifically for that purpose, doesn’t really lessen the horror.

Robot allegory for the evils of colonialism and chattel slavery are hardly brushing the surface, the metaphor so vague as to be inappropriate.

Inappropriate? I’m not sure if you just don’t approve of speculative fiction in general here, but I’m not sure how it’s inappropriate to use a fictional technology to explore both the underlying root causes and potential end results of a real human tendency towards evil. It’s also hardly a vague metaphor when it usually directly involves the dehumanisation and denial of the personhood of an entire class of people in order to justify their use as slave labour. Given things like the economic underpinnings of the Atlantic slave trade as a historical example, and, you know, more unfortunately current issues like the prison-industrial system, I’d say that’s quite on the nose.

(Also further to this thread in general, while we’re talking about the prison-industrial system, the idea that we shouldn’t have empathy towards, or treat as people, beings that are dangerous is … also a bit on the nose. There’s a difference between safety precautions and using the idea that someone is dangerous to justify doing whatever you want to them).

As to your last paragraph … Comparing a person to a robot only reinforces cruel behaviour towards them if you’re starting from the idea that it’s inherently okay to be cruel to the robot. If you came away from a story where the robot was very clearly a thinking, feeling person, who wanted their personhood acknowledged and to be free of the system that kept them enslaved, with the idea that that is an inhuman creature that deserves to be put down and treated like shit … Honey, that didn’t come from the story, you brought that with you.

Empathy is a thing that requires training. And that is one of the things that fiction is for.

And one of the ways that fiction does that is to create a metaphor that is partially disengaged from the nitty gritty real life details of the thorny issue so that you can start to pull it apart and examine it more in the abstract. Robots, at least the sort of fully sentient robots of fiction, are not (yet) real. But the issues that they face are very real, and come from root causes (greed and the dehumanisation of other people to justify their exploitation) that we need to look at and explore, not only in ways they’ve already manifested, but in all the ways that they could manifest (and maybe, through that, the ways that they actually have manifested already that we haven’t quite noticed before).

the reason "robot racism" is often a really stupid metaphor is the same reason that like. discrimination against demons or vampires or whatever doesn't work, is because there's often a pretty justified reasons humans are scared of vampires or robots or whatever, in a way that doesn't apply to real life minorities, like a fantasy author will be like "the reason vampires are discriminated against is because most of them and kill and eat people for fun and pleasure, and so humans respond by trying to kill them, isn't that so sad" and like no that's a perfectly fine reason to not trust vampires i think.

#speculative fiction #science fiction #robots #metaphor #fiction

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blackmoonoracle · 2 days ago

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How are u currently being divinely supported?

Channeled reading, cus I don’t feel like using cards. 😴

Pile i

You may be someone who is judged or looked at crazy for something? People could be withholding support or not believing in your ideas / capabilities.

You are being divinely supported in going after this thing or creating it for yourself. A lot of you could be very creative, artistic people, I sense you KNOW you’ve got it. The lyric that started playing as I was typing that I’m crying hahahahaha.

So basically your creativity & goals are divinely protected. You cannot be blocked from success, I sense that you have had a difficult life with a lot of trials and tribulations and you have set your mind to finding true happiness and success.

Don’t worry so much about who will stay and who will go, focus on cultivating your life and taste making your connections until they suit your standards and needs.

PLEASE THE MUSIC IS TALKING HARD 4 YALL HAHAHA

pile ii

You’re being protected through a difficult time, things may feel down- you could be feeling betrayed, alone, nervous, or scared. Your spirits are very protective of you, for many of you it’s a grandmother. She’s been caring for you since you were a baby. You could have experienced neglect or loneliness as a child.

Your ancestor is trying to help you release this fear so that you can actually be loved. Not because you’re unloveable, but because you cannot truly experience the love others have for you if you are too afraid to receive it.

You are being divinely protected in your healing, this transition is NOT to drag you down!!!! This is FOR YOUR BETTERMENT, trust it.

There’s a true friend coming to you, or a true connection- or maybe you HAVE a true friend that really loves you. Don’t let your fear keep you from experiencing love fr. You’ve SEEEN what happens to people that hurt you. Relax 🫶🏻🫶🏻🫶🏻😚😚

pile iii

In happiness! You are being divinely supported in your happiness, your health, and this new chapter of your life! I sense that you’ve really put in a lot of effort to become more mindful and more relaxed. You have a lot of HIGH QUALITY PEACE & luxury coming into your life. Things may start coming to you more quickly, I heard “the high priest”, you could be a witch or you could’ve done a spell to achieve this!

Someone could have a sister who passed away? Stop I’ll cry rn fr, if that actually resonates w someone here’s a channeled song for u: https://music.apple.com/us/album/one-million-year-trip/392698862?i=392699031

IF IT DOESNT APPLY LET IT FLY!

Anyways, maybe YOU are an older sibling choosing to move out or not be a scapegoat anymore. I feel a lot of happiness and good times coming to this pile and you are being supported in receiving that.

They see you trying 🌸

#tarot community #tarot online #tarot reading #pick a card #pac #pick a pile #tarotblr #pac tarot #pick a picture #tarot

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n0rmal-cat · 3 days ago

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Yandere tarantula x frog reader- babysitting

[Really tried from work today sorry lol so there probably won’t be any more out today, also sorry if there are any mistakes here]

Reader looked down at the children in front of them, their big eyes looking up at them. "orchid I don't think-"

"Nonsense! Look at them; they adore you already," they encouraged from behind.

With a sigh, reader contemplated the situation. If this was meant to help turn their life around, they might as well embrace their role as 'babysitter.

"Okay, I'll do it for you, Orch," they said, managing a small smile.

“Thank you, my little polka dot! I’ll only be gone for a short while, and when I return, I promise to bring back some delicious food for you," Orch said, tenderly brushing their fingers against reader's cheek.

Reader nodded. "I mean, you don’t have to do all that you’re already—“

"I don’t take 'no' for an answer, dear." Orch playfully poked the reader’s nose before swinging open the door. "Bye, my babies!" they called, waving enthusiastically to the two children.

Reader watched as Orchid left the house, "Alright, so what do you two want to do? Where did they go..." They quickly glanced around, but the children had vanished in mere seconds.

"Okay, no, this is fine. There’s no way they can get outside, so they must be in here somewhere."

Yet, after a frantic search, reader found themselves growing increasingly anxious. "Kids, please! Orch will kill me if I lose you, and that’s already happened!" they were starting to panic, this was their one shot to finally turn their life around and they were blowing it.

Suddenly, a suspicious sound echoed from above. They craned their neck to look up, only to be met with a bucket swinging down, spilling water all over them. "Ow!" they exclaimed as they fell to the ground, the cold water dripping off their face.

They heard the sound of running away and a bunch of giggles, the two had been on the ceiling the whole time hadn't they...

Laughter erupted around them as the two children scampered off, clearly enjoying their little prank. Reader lifted the bucket from their head with an exasperated huff. "Okay, very funny, but the games are over."

They made their way to the kitchen, where they heard the commotion lead them. Upon entering, they were greeted by chaos.

"No, no, no!" cups and plates lay scattered across the floor, every cabinet flung open, and the tap in the sink gushed water, creating a small pool that began to overflow.

Frantically, Reader turned off the sink and stooped down to pick up the remains of the dinnerware. But before they could even make a dent in the mess, a loud crash resonated from the dining room.

Rushing into the next room, they were met with the sight of a broken vase scattered beside the table's feet. "How am I going to fix this?" their voice trembled in disbelief. Just then, their phone buzzed with an incoming call.

Taking a deep breath, they answered it. "Hello?"

"Hello, polka dots! How are my little ones doing?"

Reader glanced around the disaster zone, a sense of defeat washing over them. "Um..." They sighed, sliding their back down the wall, feeling the weight of the situation. "Hey... listen, Orch, I don’t think I’m a good fit for this...”

"What? Why, dear?" Orch's voice echoed concern.

"The kids… they don’t seem to like me, and I really don’t want to disappoint you. You’ve done so much for me already… and—"

"Stop talking like that! I’ll find something else for you to do. You could just sit in my room and look pretty for all I care."

Reader would have argued further, but a sudden crash pulled their attention away. It sounded less like an object falling and more like a small child hitting the ground.

"What was that?" they said into the phone.

"Eh, I’ll call you back," Orit replied hurriedly. Reader hung up and dashed toward the source of the noise.

There, sitting on the floor, was one of the little ones, clutching their elbow to their chest, tears glistening in their eyes. Reader knelt beside them, concern etched on their face. "Can I see?" they asked gently. The child hesitated, then nodded, revealing a simple scrape—nothing too serious.

"You’ll be okay. Did you fall?" Reader questioned, and the child nodded.

Without hesitation, Reader scooped them into their arms, offering comfort. "Well, there’s no need to be sad. I think I saw some popsicles scattered on the floor, Do you want one?"

"Yes, please!" the child replied.

They made their way back to the kitchen, scanning the mess for the blue popsicle. After a few moments, they found one lying amidst the mess and handed it over.

"so, where's the other one of you" They immediately pointed up to the ceiling, yup of course they were

As they looked up, a tiny figure was perched on the ceiling, a mischievous grin plastered across their face. “You can come down now, you know, there are plenty of popsicles to go around”

Without hesitation, the child tumbled into their arms, eyes wide with excitement. “Popsicle now, please!”

"ah, yeah ok" They grabbed one as well. As they were both eating reader finally got a better look at them who knew they were so cute.

Chuckling softly to themselves, they gently carried the two children back to the living room. “Are we done running around now?” they asked tiredly.

The children nodded with sleepy eyes, reader let out a sigh of relief. “Thank god,” they murmured.

About an hour later, Orchid returned home, a huge bag of fast food in one hand and two small kid meals in the other. As they made their way into the living room, a warm smile spread across their face at the sight before them.

There were their two little ones, nestled snugly in the reader's arms, fast asleep together on the couch. “I told you, you could do it” Orchid said softly.

#gender neutral reader #gn reader #yandere #yandere drabble #yandere headcanons #yandere imagines #yandere oc #yandere scenarios #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere x darling #yandere monster #drider #yandere drider #tarantula yan #gn y/n #gender neutral y/n

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theresattrpgforthat · 2 days ago

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THEME: TTRPGs for Trans Rights in Ohio

This is a special rundown of some of the tabletop games found in the TTRPGs for Trans Rights - Ohio Bundle currently being offered on Itch.io! The offer ends on May 3rd, 2025.

Rebels of the Outlaw Wastes, by Nerdy Pup Games.

Play misfit outlaws fighting against the authoritarian Powers That Be in a hyper-saturated, film-grained, retro dystopia. Save the future with the power of friendship, whoopass, and explosions! Features sticker-based character advancement, effortless cinematic vehicle action, and player-driven Ride-or-Die system usings d4s, d6s, d8s, d10s, and d12s.

Rebels of the Outlaw Wastes is colorful, with art that pops off the page and plenty of ready-to-use scenarios to jump-start play as soon as you sit down at the table. Dive into a post-apocalypse full of young punks in a world you build yourself, with plenty of tools to help you create settlements, beasts, gear, and much much more. If you like car chases and vehicle stunts, this is probably a game for you, with purposefully-designed vehicle scenes written into the game.

Songbirds 3e, by snow.

"Moon's haunted."

Songbirds 3e is a tabletop roleplaying game about undeath, supernatural powers, and the blue dreams of the moon. In the game, you create a strange survivor of the world who was chosen (or cursed) by Death. Spirits aren't able to pass on to the afterlife and grow monstrous with each passing day. You know the songs to send them on. You have the abilities that help you find them. You are the canary in the coal mine.

Songbirds 3e has received a great amount of critical acclaim as a beautiful, mysterious, tantalizing game that blends eldritch fantasy dungeon crawls with pieces of sci-fi blended in. It's inspired by Into the Odd, Persona 5, Blades in the Dark, Red Giant, Disco Elysium, Fallout New Vegas, and much much more.

Sound Check, by Misha.grifka.

Sound Check is a game about being in a band. Rehearse, party, get interviewed and get intimate - but don't forget, it's all leading up to one thing: the Big Show. Each player will have their own musician with a unique playbook, but everyone works together to tell the story of an up-and-coming band, in any musical genre you like.

Running on the Firebrands system, Sound Check will explore the story of your band through a series of scenes, using trope-centred playbooks to build a character with strong beats and clear direction. This game has one of my favorite kinds of mechanics: a stress track that eventually brings you to an explosion, which is an action that adds narrative tension and conflict, such as making an enemy out of a friend, or having an emotional breakdown. If you want drama and heightened emotion, you want Sound Check.

Dinocar, by Dinoberry Jam.

Imagine a world almost entirely the same as our own, except someone's magical wish to meet the dinosaurs came true. But after the welcome party, what were they all to do? Well, they went on to have regular modern lives alongside our own; bills to pay, families to feed, jobs to work. Most unfortunately of all, though, they have cars to drive–and none of them are really any good at it.

That’s what happens when you’re a 12-foot tall reptile with big legs and tiny arms, it’s just really hard to fit into a compact economy-size sedan and even harder to operate the dang thing.

In Dinocar, you and as many friends as you can gather will work together to map out a snippet of that world. You’ll paint a map, draw landmarks, slap buildings into place, and take turns going on chaotic road trips and commutes. At the end of a game of Dinocar, you’ll have a story to tell and a wonderful map to either frame on the wall or stick to the fridge.

Dinocar feels fun & whimsical, and feels perfect for folks who don't like to get messy, as well as kids.

The Stone Flesh Gift, by ATypicalFaux.

A silhouette blocks the stars, darker than the space it drifts through. Several amber eyes encased in crystal peer out from the shadows. When dappled in light from the closest sun, the remnants of petroglyphs can be seen carved across its hull, hewn from a single black stone harder than steel. The ship has no comms, no transponder, just a pulsating thump within a membrane running through the stone like a vein of ore. A glistening docking umbilical gently sways as it’s pulled behind the vessel, stretching toward anything that approaches, looking to touch, to connect.

The Stone-Flesh Gift is a 40-page TTRPG module with a focus on exploration and body horror, to be played with the Mothership sci-fi horror RPG. The players will wade through the innards of a lost ceremonial offering, an ancient alien bio-engineering factory and living ship called The Gift, as they work to avoid its dangers, discover its secrets, and plug their brains directly into its organs to feel their thoughts.

This is the only item on this list that isn't a game in itself, but instead a supplement for a game - but if you like space horror, The Stone Flesh Gift is a title I've seen time and time again. It's great for folks who love body horror, and gritty stories of addiction and disease.

In Conclusion...

If any of these games look interesting to you, get them for a steal by picking up the TTRPGS for Trans Rights Bundle on Itch.io!

#tabletop games #indie ttrpgs #game recommendations #dnd #bundle #trans rights

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heartyluv · 2 days ago

Text

Note: This is very different from anything I’ve ever written, but the idea came to me and I just had to try it out. I really like this, to be honest. I hope you do, too! ♡ (I proofread it as best as I could, but I had to rush, so please forgive any mistakes!)

Rating: Explicit - !!Minors DO NOT Interact!!

Warning: Oral (Fem!Receiving), Rafayel is drinking blood, you’re in the middle of the ocean (This is set in like the Medieval period.)

Word Count: 2,847

Summary: Rafayel gets his pretty princess back.

VampireLemurian!Rafayel/Princess!Reader

Your father deciding to marry you off was not something that surprised you. It didn’t even disappoint you. It pissed you off.

Since you were a baby, your mother has ensured you were raised and taught about what it meant to be a queen as well as what it should look like. But in truth, you knew that every etiquette lesson and monotonous instruction was really a step-by-step guide on how to be a subservient woman under the iron rule of an insufferable man.

It was last month when your father, the king, told you that you were to be married to the eldest son of one of your families most important allies to ensure loyalty and companionship for many more years to come.

Your father was never a man to back down from a decision once it was made, especially if it was one that would offer him great benefit. You’ve been on this dreaded ship for two days now—with three more to go—to marry a man you’ve seen no more than three times in your life. But you had no say and no way of escaping it.

Even if the castle you’ve lived in since the day you were born was uptight and stuffy, it was still home. Now, you’d have to learn your way around another if you wished to fool yourself into some semblance of comfort. Outside of that castle that felt like the rooms were a little too cold with halls too barren, there was a kingdom outside of it with people you’ve grown to know and respect. People who treated you like you were somebody other than a princess.

You’re below deck now, refusing to step outside to enjoy any light, whether it be from the sun or the moon. Guards stood ground in front of your door and were posted all around the ship and servants would come and go like clockwork to bring you meals, clothing, and hot buckets of water to bathe. In truth, everyone aboard this ship feared your father, even down to the crew who safely guided you through these unpredictable waters. You’ve been taken care of. At least it was being done by someone since the people who were supposed to be your parents couldn’t bother to do so.

As you sit in your quarters on a bed so luxurious that it makes you huff out a small laugh to yourself at such a ridiculous thing, you dip your quill in the small bottle of expensive ink and draw on the parchment you brought with you on your journey. Drawing calms you, even if you’re not great at it. The ability to have some sort of power in your hand to create anything you’d ever want is as close to freedom as you’d ever get.

It makes you think of him. Of the man you met a handful of times on the small walks you’d take on the beach to get away from the responsibilities you carried. He was always there, somehow. Always where you were, ready to talk and listen. He taught you how to properly distribute the ink on your quill so that it let you control the flow of your creativity. It was him who showed you an appreciation for art in a way that you’ve never had.

He was the one who showed you that love was real, even if you never told him how you felt. In the small time that you knew him, you were certain there was no other person on this planet that could ever fulfill you like he could. He made you laugh at his jokes and theatrical antics, made you wonder if his lips were as soft as they looked. He made you feel.

Beautiful just isn’t enough of a word to describe him. Maybe magnificent, ethereal, even god-like would have to suffice because not even that did him justice. He was perfect. He was the one thing you looked forward to every night. You would sneak outside of the castle walls late at night, just to see him longer than the few hours you did before the sun set. But, you were sent off without ever being able to say goodbye. Your parents had you on lockdown, as they feared you flee after you were told about your impending doom of a loveless marriage.

Would he think you’ve abandoned him? You’d never know.

You lose yourself in the mediocre drawing, feeling the sleepiness start to set in. That was the only way you knew it was night time besides the fact that you’d get your final meal and a snack to follow a few hours later before all was silent for the evening.

It’s not long until the serenity is disrupted. Once soft and calm steps above you on the wood were starting to rap against the boards with urgency. Small thuds would follow, then came a scream. Followed by another before they started to blend, stopping as quickly as they started.

Panic fueled you. Were you being attacked? No one besides the family you were set to marry into and your kingdom knew about your departure.

You quickly stand, your royal blue nightgown gliding across your ankles as the lace trim tickles your skin before resting, unlike your rapidly beating heart. You grab your dagger that you were gifted by your grandfather from the nightstand, pulling the sharp blade out of its scabbard.

Your mother never wanted you to learn how to fight. She said it was unfit for a lady and that a man would protect her at all times. But your grandfather never believed in such idiotic things. It’s why he secretly gave you lessons on how to take care of yourself should the time ever come. You were always grateful, but truly hoped you never need it. But it seems like it may be a reality sooner than you imagined.

You take a deep breath before taking cautious steps toward the door, twisting the knob and quietly pulling it open to see the two guards who seems to never leave. Their swords are ready, holding a stance that is prepared for a threat. The soft glow of the candle scones on the wall behind them makes their gold and red armor shimmer.

“M’lady, please get back inside,” the one to your left says without looking at you.

“What is happening?” you question quietly, not wanting to alert whatever or whoever is out there. “Has anyone gone to check?”

“No,” answers the one of your right. “Our duty is to keep you safe. Leaving would jeopardize your safety.”

While you understand, not knowing what you’re going up against is equivalent to going into a battle with your eyes closed and your weapon sheathed. But you’re not dumb. You have no armor to try and go find out yourself and this dagger could only help you against so much.

The noise outside starts to increase, this time the thuds are so forceful that you’re sure the wood is splintering. The ship rocks as if the water is just as afraid of what’s happening, making goosebumps decorate your skin. Rain spatters, the usually calming sound now eerie and dreadful.

“Princess, please—” Before the guard can say anything, the door on top of the steps swings open so hard that it hangs off the hinges.

There’s only one person there. For a moment, you believe that one of the crew members escaped and is coming to help, alert, offer anything to inform, but when a blue glow emits from where the eyes should be, you freeze.

“Announce yourself!” commands a guard.

The moonlight behind this person from outside is the only thing that outlines their body, making them impossible to see the shadowed outline clearly.

“Someone has tired to take my princess away from me without my permission,” the airy voice tsks.

You know that voice. You couldn’t imagine forgetting it. You step forward and the guard to your left roughly grabs your arm to keep you back. You can’t correct him or even snatch yourself away because he’s hit with a ball of flame that throws him roughly against the wall.

With wide eyes, you look down at the man that you hope is only incapacitated.

“Rafayel?” you whisper his name, unsure now. The man you knew on the beach wouldn’t have down this.

“You know this man?” questions the last guard standing.

The stairs creak as the anonymous individual starts to descend with grace. As he comes into candlelight, your breath hitches. It is him.

But he’s not the same. He’s not who you know. The white dress shirt with wide sleeves that taper at the wrists, the one you told him was your favorite, is stained with crimson red blood. His glowing eyes pulse with power as he smiles the closer he gets. He’s soaked from the rain and blood dirties his perfect lips, a trail falling down his chin.

Once he reaches the final step, a sword is thrusted into his abdomen.

“No!” you scream. You look at the guard who has triumph all over his face. It’s swiped away when Rafayel tilts his head ever so slightly. His hand juts out, grabbing the guard by his throat and effortlessly lifting him off the floor.

“Remove this for me would you, love?” he asks you. Your hesitance is momentary. You grasp the blade’s grip with one hand and shudder at the blood that seeps through even more when you pull it out. His lack of reaction is even more disturbing.

Thrown to the floor, the metal clatters. The man in Rafayel’s hand chokes at the constriction on his throat. His feet dangle as he struggles to get them to touch the floor.

Then, it happens too fast.

Rafayel brings the man close and stares into your eyes with his glowing blues before two sharp teeth present themselves before sinking into his captive’s flesh. The burly man screams in pain as teeth piece his skin. Within seconds, Rafayel pulls back and licks the red off his plush lips before releasing the guard to let him crumble to the floor.

You can’t speak. You want to, but you feel frozen with shock and partial fear. You hold your dagger tighter. With the only sense you seem to have, you turn around and run into your room before shutting the door.

What is happening? This isn’t real, you try to convince yourself.

You’re frantic in your search to find another way out, but there isn’t and you know that. Deciding to barricade it with what you can, you find that you don’t have enough time because the purple haired man pushes the door open with ease.

“Have I scared my princess?” he smirks.

“Don’t hurt me,” you plead breathlessly, raising your dagger in warning.

The blue in his eyes rest, returning to the unique mix of color you’re accustomed to. The rain platters cease at the same time as the waters calm. The boat settles, allowing you to finally feel as steady as you can be.

“Aren’t you happy to see me?” he steps closer, ignoring the threat. “Left without saying goodbye, miss. That’s quite rude, don’t you agree?”

“I had no choice,” you push out.

“I know,” he nods. “It’s why I’m here. To give you back your ability to choose. As well as…” He trails off, using his thumb to push the small amount of blood at the corner of his mouth inside. “Give you the opportunity to make more decisions.”

With a whoosh of sudden flame conjured by his hands, the dagger is out of your hand and in his.

“You killed those people.”

“I’ve killed no one, pretty. What kind of monster do you think I am, hm?” He studies the dagger. “This is cute. Fit for you.”

“Rafayel…”

“I like when you say my name, you know? You don’t know how much I’ve missed you during the nights. Our nights. Had to ask around that kingdom of yours to find out what happened to you,” he sighs. He sees your concern and decides to ease it.

“No one is dead, truly. Just unconscious.”

“But you—”

“Drank their blood, I know. Believe me, they’re fine.”

“But the fire… The teeth, the strength—”

“A vampiric Lemurian. Shocking combination, indeed.”

“How did you—”

“Get here?” The small scowl on your face because of how he keeps interrupting you makes him smile. “You have a very memorable scent, my sweet. I can track you with ease. And Lemurians are very fast swimmers.”

“What do you want?” you command from him, trying to seem stoic. That makes him smile more before he tosses the dagger somewhere.

“You, of course. Duh,” he grabs your hands, making you flinch. “Believe me, if there was a way for me to have gotten to you without all this, I would’ve done that.”

You nod slowly, taking his word for some reason.

“Are you afraid of what I am? Of what you’ve seen?” he asks.

“More astounded than anything.”

“Hm,” he hums. “And if you could do the same?”

“What?” you say lightly.

He presses his face into your neck, gently licking your skin and follows it with a kiss. “One bite here, and we’d be together. Forever, without worry or interruption. Would you like that? To be with someone who knows your heart better than the woman who formed it or the man who ignores it?”

He nips at your flesh, making you press closer against his body. His arm wraps around your waist to keep you there. “I’d show you true freedom, my princess. A world that could be yours if you just said yes.”

As if you’re enchanted by his very presence, all your body can muster in response is a nod.

“Is that a yes?” he checks and you do it again. “Excellent,” he grins harder. “It’s an easier transition when you’re relaxed. I can help you. Will you let me?”

Your breathless yes is enough to make him push you onto the bed behind you. He doesn’t waste time pulling your gown up and above your hips. As he kneels like a loyal subject, he spreads your legs wide once settled on his knees.

“No panties?” he smiles as you look down at him. “You knew I’d be here, didn’t you?”

“No,” you say quickly. “It’s just… more comfortable.”

“And easier for me.”

His mouth is on your pussy, burying his nose deep as he inhales your scent. You cry out as his tongue licks long and languid stripes up your hot cunt. You feel the wetness of his saliva lubricate you and the strength of the muscle push into your hole. Your hand tangles into his damp locks, pressing him closer.

“Raf…” you breathe. “Your tongue…”

He sucks your clit then uses the tip of his warm tongue to stimulate you and your hips buck abruptly. “Oh, you’re so sensitive. So perfect and so, so, delicious.”

Needing to be closer, he takes your legs and puts them over his shoulders and grabs your hips to pull your body towards him. He consumes you whole, devouring your doubts and fears and replacing them with want and eagerness.

You grind your hips against his face as he tongue fucks you slow, smearing your juices all over your soft curls. Had blood not been a crucial part of his survival, your pussy would undoubtedly be the only thing he needs to live.

“I’m… I feel—”

“Relax,” he mutters against your pussy lips. “I have you.”

The sounds wet kisses and filthy licks erase the silence, accompanying your soft cries and mind numbing moans.

It’s like he clears away all the memories you had of the people he harmed to get to you. You can’t even seem to care as he brings you to ecstasy. Your eyes close at the overwhelming pleasure, using one hand to curl the sheets in your fist and the other to hold his face close.

His tongue is magic and its as your orgasm approaches that your body starts to relax, welcoming the bliss. But, Rafayel moves at a speed so inhumane that you have no time to register. He’s in between your legs and his fangs bare. Leaning down on top of you, his teeth sink into your neck, venom secreting and mingling into your bloodstream to change your very being.

He covers your eyes as he feeds, disorienting you. The sharp pain is replaced with a burn and before you can scream, he pulls back and his eyes pulse blue before swiping a hand over your eyes and putting you to sleep.

He stands, ignoring the aching of his cock in his pants. Later, he tells himself. He closes your legs and pulls down your dress. Pulling you up and over his shoulder, her carries you out the room and up the stairs, stepping over the pitiful guard’s bodies. The litter of unconscious bodies remain all across the deck as he approaches the edge.

“When you wake, princess, you’ll be Queen in the world you belong.” With that, he jumps into the water, surrounding you both in a bubble that will help you breathe until your transformation completes.

He has you now. He’ll give you everything. And when your pretty eyes open, all of that will be revealed to you and it’ll be more than you could’ve ever imagined.

#love and deepspace #love and deespace smut #love and deepspace x reader #love and deepspace rafayel #rafayel x you #rafayel x reader #rafayel smut #medieval #vampire

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gunwoo-bh · 3 days ago

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The Night Shift - Part 5 [Min Yoongi x f!Reader]

MIN YOONGI x F!READER UniStudent!Yoongi AU SUMMARY: You chose a boring, quiet job at your campus’s 24-hour library for a reason: it kept you away from drama, gossip, and parties. It was positively uneventful. Until it wasn’t. Warnings: swearing, min yoongi being a cute flirty shit, teasing, reader not being used to attention is a warning because i feel that A/N: THANK YOU SO MUCH. I am so excited, really, for all the love you've given this. Here's the next chapter. I also created a tag list at the end of each chapter or drabble I'll post, please do let me know if I forgot you. Send in an ask, or comment or like the chapter and I'll add you to it. I might take longer between chapter to posts as I'm figuring out where this is going considering I had no plan going into this. I hope you all enjoy! :D

THE NIGHT SHIFT

PART 5

You decided on day two of your new schedule that you are not a fan.

Yes, having a normal sleeping schedule is quite nice. You see your friends more often, which is an infinite plus. But it’s busier, which you did not like.

It's day three now, and you are cautiously optimistic that things have finally slowed down as the clock turns over to 9 p.m. With three hours left to go, you desperately try to work on your essay for your Korean language class. You have never worked a shift so busy before, and you’re positively tired. You’re staring absentmindedly at your laptop, distracted by the noise of students just outside the main area.

You begin to type away, glancing up every once in a while to make sure everything is okay as you get lost in essay writing. This is the only time you get to have some decent studying time, at least for the next few days. Eunji’s mother and much younger siblings are in town visiting, staying with you for the week, and lovely humans they are. The kids are full of energy and love cuddling with their big sister to watch movies.

Hwayoung and you have given them space for the next few days at the apartment, going out to study, but with your work schedule changing, it hasn’t been easy. It’s taking some time to adjust, and you know you will adapt, but it’s proven difficult.

You don’t know how much time passes until you’re startled by a hand appearing in front of your screen as you snap your head up at your intruder. You break out into a smile when your eyes lock with Yoongi’s. You quickly glance at what he placed in front of you, and bite your lower lip, “Ah, energy!” You grab the peeled tangerine and begin eating, “You scared me.”

You’re pouting when he leans on the desk, “Didn’t mean to, but I’ve been standing there waiting for you to notice.”

Your eyes grow wide, “You’re lying!?”

“Nope. Peeled the whole thing while you were staring at your laptop.” He licks his lips, a grin tugging at his mouth.

Your mouth is open, processing what he’s saying, “I’m sorry?”

He shrugs, “Homework?”

“Korean Language class essay.” His nose wrinkles and upper lip pulls up, making you giggle as you cover your mouth. “Not a fan?”

He shakes his head, “Nope, I was good at it, but was never a fan of it.”

You pop another piece of tangerine in your mouth, “Thank you.” You raise what’s left in your hands, and he nods in understanding. “So, you stopping by just for this or to study?”

He looks around, looking back and nodding to the remnants of the fruit in your hand, “Just that,” you look so pleased at that, “oh, and this too…” his hand pops up over the counter, and he slips his phone in front of you. What’s more surprising is that it’s open on a brand new contact page.

Is he really…?

“Huh?” Why is that the only thing that comes out of your mouth?

It must amuse him because he’s chewing the inside of his cheeks, attempting to stop a grin from growing, “Could I get your number?”

Your hands gently grab his phone, pulling it closer as you glance at him once more, and you hum while staring at the device, “Mhm.”

You enter your name and information, playfully adding the closest thing to a tangerine emoji next to your name as you hand it back, and he looks down at it. You hear your phone buzz right away, frowning while looking at him as you reach for your phone. It’s an unknown number and you can’t help the sheer happiness showing in your laugh lines when you add his number to yours.

When you look up at him, he’s peeling another tangerine while looking at you, “So, any special reason for this?”

He shrugs, “It’s better than only getting to talk here, no?”

He wants to talk to you, that’s what you take out of this. You nod, “Yeah, way better.”

He looks around and says, “You off at midnight?”

“Mhm.”

“I’m meeting with my friends nearby, but I’ll come back and walk you home.”

You want to protest his working you into his time, but he doesn’t give you a moment to do so, handing you the second tangerine. You take it, smiling as he grabs his bag and turns around to leave. You sit there, half a tangerine in one hand and another one in the other as you laugh to yourself. What is happening?

You put both fruits down and text your friends right away, sending them a photo of the tangerines.

You [9:27 PM]: You guys were right, he did show up ><

You put the device down to eat more of the tangerine, and you just manage to finish the first one when your friends respond.

Hwayoung [9:31 PM]: I told you he would. He can’t stay away for too long. (wink emoji)

Eunji [9:32 PM]: Still treating you right I see? (flirty emoji)

You [9:32 PM]: He didn’t just come by for those. He asked for my number (blushing emoji)

You see both of them type at the same time and laugh softly at how excited they are for you.

Hwayoung [9:34 PM]: Atta boy!!

Eunji [9:34 PM]: YES! Get that number! God, I’m so happy for you!!!

Hwayoung [9:34 PM]: You’ll have to tell us the whole story when you get home!! I wanna watch your face!

Eunji [9:35 PM]: Are you ridiculously happy right now?! Because I’m so happy for you!

You [9:35 PM]: I am! But you’ll also never guess what else?

Eunji [9:36 PM]: ??????

Hwayoung [9:36 PM]: Please just tell us!

You [9:37 PM]: He left, and he’s coming back to walk me home! ><

The onslaught of texts you get reacting to that makes you laugh harder, keeping your laughter as low as possible. You put your phone aside as you go back to writing your essay. You still hear it buzzing a few times before it goes quiet again.

You're back on track now. You’ve done another walkthrough of the library and put away any stray books, helped a few people along the day, and you’re now trying to make headway with your essay, finally settling in for the last two hours of your shift.

You don’t know why these last five minutes are going so slowly. The security guard has already shown up to wish you a good night. You stand up from your spot and gather your bag, and right as you’re thinking he might not show, you look up to see Yoongi on the other side of the turnstiles. You release the breath you had been holding as you meet him, exiting the library, and he’s looking at you with a soft smile.

“Good to go?”

You nod, adjusting your bag on your shoulder, and he immediately extends his hand to you, “What?”

“Gimme the bag, lemme carry it.” Out of habit, you open your mouth to protest, but he’s already grabbing it from you. You’re walking along with him as he slings your bag over his shoulder like it’s nothing.

Everything about him surprises you. He’s been so open with you and willing to be around you, even though a few weeks ago, you were essentially strangers. You watch him as he shoots someone a text, stuffing his phone in his jacket before looking over to you.

“How was work?” He’s cutely chewing on his upper lip.

“I hate it.” You make him snort with your quippy response. “I mean it, I don’t like this shift, but I guess the more reasonable sleeping hours are nice?”

He smacks his lips and smiles, “What do you hate?”

“It’s way busier, and noisier. I liked that it was boring. I got to do all my work usually and I could even walk around. I guess I got comfortable with it?” You shrug as he nods.

“And now, awful students are keeping you busy?” He’s teasing, and you can tell from his eyes.

Pouting at him, you nod, “Mhm. It sucks.”

He laughs, and it’s really the first time you get to hear his laughter. It’s higher than his speaking voice and very boyish, but very nice all the same. Enough to give you butterflies at least, and you definitely try to ignore that feeling as he nudges you with his shoulder.

“You hungry?”

Your eyes snap up to his as you both come to a stop, “Always.”

Yoongi grins while looking around, “Wanna grab food?”

There is the smallest of insecure voices inside your head telling you to decline his offer, not to bother him considering how late it is, but you’re glad that you seem to like following your heart as you nod, “What did you have in mind?”

He shrugs, “I don’t know…what do you like?”

“Fried chicken?”

He looks over to his left then back at you, “I know a place. You wanna?”

You nod, eager to eat and to spend more time with him, “Yeah.”

You both walk off campus with you following him as he confidently guides you to a small restaurant just at the beginning of the main street near the University. You frown when you realize how very little you go out to new places, because you never even knew this was here as you walk in when Yoongi opens the door for you.

It’s nice and quaint, but it smells amazing as you smile when the wonderful owner welcomes you. She sees Yoongi behind you and says, “Ah! There you are, I was beginning to wonder where you went!”

He shyly looks down, bowing and apologizing, “I’ve been busy with school and the restaurant.” She sweetly walks right over to hug him as he stands there and then she looks at you.

There’s a silent look shared between them as she personally guides the both of you over to a table and sits you down. You chuckle as she walks to the kitchen and you finally get a moment to look to Yoongi.

“You don’t just know a place. You know a place.” He blushes, rubbing the back of his neck as he slips his coat off.

“She’s uh, she’s my mom’s best friend.” He confesses.

You smile, biting your lower lip as you slip your coat off too, “That’s sweet.”

He shrugs, “She always chastises me.”

“Why?” You’re amused by the imagery.

“I don’t visit often enough. I don’t eat enough. I don’t bring my friends enough. I don’t…” he trails off, pausing like he’s considering what he’s going to say next as he takes a quick glance at you, “I don’t have a girlfriend to show off…” he grabs the water already at the table.

Your cheeks grow warm, looking over your shoulder to the kitchen as you wonder what his mom’s best friend thought when she saw you. They definitely shared a look when he briefly introduced you.

“She’s a mom, I’m assuming?” He nods. “Then, I guess those are just mom things to worry about.”

He sighs, “She’s not just a mom. She’s Namjoon’s mom.”

Your eyes grow wide as you snap your head back to where you can see her in the back, looking back to Yoongi, “Really?”

Yoongi nods, “Mhm.”

“So, you guys are really close?”

Yoongi stays silent, looking over your shoulder, and Namjoon’s mom comes to your table, placing some side dishes and two beers. She smiles at both of you and says, “Are you two talking about me?”

You mouth the air, looking to Yoongi for help, and he thankfully provides it, “She has a class with Namjoon. I was just telling her–”

“I’m his mom!” She looks so proud when she announces it too, and you soften.

Yoongi sits there as you talk to Namjoon’s mom, listening to her sharing stories of her son and Yoongi. You love just how embarrassed Yoongi gets when she tells some story about their teens as he stops her, “Wait, wait, can…can we eat and not tell every embarrassing thing Namjoon and I have done, because we’ll be here for days…”

Your eyes widen as you stare at him, biting your lip to stifle your laughter and mouthing, “Really?”

He nods, glancing back and forth, “I have to walk her home, we’re gonna eat and go, mhm?”

He and Namjoon’s mom, whose name you come to find out is Jungyoon or Mrs. Kim, are having a standoff staring context as she relents, “Fine. I’ll let you kids eat. Enjoy the food and let me know if you need anything.”

You bow to her, smiling brightly as you look at the side dishes. She returns seconds later with many different kinds of chicken for you two to have as you thank her one more time. You glance up to him and he nods at you, digging into the food.

Every bite brings a satisfying fullness to your starving stomach, smiling with every piece of chicken you eat. He reaches to open the beers but you stop him, shaking your head with a full mouth. You finish your bite, “I don’t drink. You can have it if you’d like.”

He looks back to the cooler and stands up, taking the second beer with him and he returns with a soda for you instead, “This okay?”

You nod, stunned into silence, “Mhm.”

It’s nearly 1:30 am when you both finish eating and talking.

He’s much more of a talker than you had imagined and there’s so much you’ve found out about him. Time has flown by, and soon enough you are both saying your goodbyes to Mrs. Kim who sends you off with leftovers and a warm hug.

Yoongi stands off to the side before she brings him into a hug, making you laugh at the wrinkle in his nose. You’re quickly learning he doesn’t seem to be a fan of physical affection, but that if anything, his love language seems to be acts of service. This man doesn’t stop with the smallest gestures that make your heart skip a beat. You fear you’ll have no heart left to skip if he keeps this up.

He’s back to carrying your bag, but this time he leaves you to carry the leftovers sent home with you by Mrs. Kim. You did steal the bag directly from him without giving him any thought to be fair.

You look up to him and smile, “Thank you.”

His eyebrows raise, “It wasn’t much.”

“It was, though.” He looks surprised by your soft, thankful tone. “I just appreciate it.”

You notice something about Yoongi. He really struggles with being thanked for what most would think of as sweet gestures, things that aren’t often just done with people you’ve just met. It seems to come naturally to him, despite, what some people have called, a cold appearance.

Min Yoongi is soft.

“So, do you often do this or is this new to you?” You’re teasing. You don’t actually expect him to answer.

“Do what?”

“Take girls you’ve recently met to late night fried chicken and walk them home.” You feel your heart sink in your chest when you realize just how close to your apartment the restaurant was. Or have you been so in your head that you never noticed time passing?

The silence is comfortable, the ambient noises of the streets a comfortable background noise as you watch him. His face speaks for him more than he seems to be aware of too. You wouldn’t admit it to him, but you could watch him for hours probably. To watch the way his eyes process things, how they dance side to side or how quickly he’s blinking. Or the way he licks his lips, tongue sometimes poking out or how he smacks his lips together. Min Yoongi is very expressive, and his face tells a story.

And while you’re getting to slowly understand what story he might be telling, nothing prepares you for what he says next. Yoongi comes to a complete stop, his face neutral as he takes you in. He licks his lips, exhaling loudly yet again.

“No.”

You think this is it, his answer, but he continues.

“That’s specifically reserved for you.”

“Oh.”

You don’t know what you expected but it wasn’t this, and he can tell. He’s satisfied with your reaction because he tugs you by the elbow, gently tugging you to keep walking up your street. You’re quiet, processing his words. You never expected him to be this bold, and honest.

And that’s fucking hot.

“Cat got your tongue?”

You snap your head to him in mild shock, wondering if he knows you’ve compared his looks to being cat-like. You feel heat rise in your cheeks, opening and closing your mouth. The smallest whine leaves your lips and you use your free hand to feel how warm your cheek is. One quick glance to Yoongi tells you it pleases him to see you react like that.

“Stop.”

“Mhm?” He looks at you, moving to face you. “Say that again?”

“I said stop.” You’re embarrassed, trying to hide your face as he chuckles. “Oppa, stop!”

Your eyes grow wide immediately, realizing what you’ve just said. Oh no. You look up to meet his eyes, and he doesn’t look nearly as shocked as you are. No, instead, he’s smirking and trying to hide his amusement from you, but failing.

“I…I–” you start, but he chuckles, catching you off guard.

Should you be offended by that laugh?

“I’m not making fun of you, I swear. I’m sorry.” He extends his hand to your arm, gently tugging and squeezing it softly. “We’re close, let’s get you home, okay?”

You agree, following him the rest of the way as you try to tame your jittery heart. You look up to your building when you both come to a stop, shyly looking down to your feet.

“So…” your voice is small, looking up at him. “I wanted to say sorry…”

“Why?”

“Because I called you Oppa, and I know we’re nowhere near close enough…” You admit.

Yoongi takes a few steps closer to you, leaning down to look into your eyes, “Can I be honest with you?”

You meet his eyes, a kindness yet playfulness about them, “Mhm.”

“It’s not the first time you’ve called me that.”

Your world turns upside down as you frown, “Huh?”

“We were right here the last time you called me that.” He glances around to your building. “I gave you the keychain.”

“I don’t…I don’t remember that.” He smiles at that confession. “I really don’t.”

“That’s okay.” He stands tall. “I do. And I don’t mind it.”

“You don’t?”

He shakes his head, grinning as he chews on the inside of his cheek, “I like it.”

You blush even more, “Oh…”

There’s a comfortable, but emotionally charged silence between the both of you. You look at him and he seems to understand the heaviness of this moment as he slips your bag off his shoulder, “Don’t overthink it, okay? It’s late and you said you had a class in the morning.”

You nod as you grab your bag and you look at him, “Okay.”

“Promise?” He holds out his pinky to you, staring at it for a moment before returning the gesture.

“Promise.” You say as he lets go of your hand.

He smiles softly, hands in his coat as he nods to your building, “Go. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

The promise of that makes your eyes soften, smiling softly as you nod, “Goodnight, and thank you.”

He watches as you step into your apartment, every moment of the last fifteen minutes replaying in your head over and over the entire ride up to your apartment. Your feet take you into your apartment and through your routine. Leftovers are put neatly in the fridge, your coat hangs on the rack, you wash up and change before slipping under the covers of your bed.

You’re staring at the ceiling when your phone screen lights up the room, reaching for it blindly in the darkness as your eyes adjust to the light. Unlocking it and going to your messages your breath catches in your throat as you read Yoongi’s very first text to you.

Yoongi [2:13 AM]: I meant it. I like you calling me Oppa.

Here is the official tag list for this series. If I forgot anybody? Please comment or send in an ask, I will try to diligently add you! :D

tag list: @muchwita @kam9404 @ot72025 @lalazilz @janeelizabeth1216 @rinkud @yngisstuff @lolpanda94 @angelicbunnee @wubbz05 @illicitelle @legendarydreamqueen @flyxfall @mintmango-min @moorepls @gojomyoneandonly

Post separator credit to @hyuneskkami

#min yoongi #yoongi #bts #suga #agust d #min yoongi x f!reader #min yoongi x reader #yoongi x f!reader #yoongi x reader #au #university au #university au student #alternate universe #min yoongi fic #yoongi fanfic #yoongi fluff #min yoongi fanfic #the night shift gunwoo-bh

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leriexoxo · 23 hours ago

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SKZ HEADCANONS

Bestfriend! Stray kids vs You in a heated staring match (OT8)

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

AN: I did a poll a few days ago for new content and everyone chose head canons so here we are! I’ll be creating a separate master list for these but it will be attached to the main ML. Requests for Head canons are open!

Disclaimer: I will not take ABO requests! (Or any sorta weird stuff)

⸻

Bang Chan

• Laughs when it starts. All dimples and cocky smirks. But the second your eyes lock and you don’t flinch, his smile fades.

• His jaw tics. You see it—see the way his eyes drop to your lips for a fraction of a second, like instinct.

• “You sure you wanna keep looking at me like that, sweetheart?” he murmurs, low and teasing—but it sounds like a threat.

• Doesn’t look away. Not because of the game—because he can’t. He’s too busy thinking about how good you’d look underneath him, making that same intense eye contact while he wrecks you.

Lee Know

• He’s cocky from the jump. Tilts his head, folds his arms, leans in just enough to make it feel intimate.

• The tension builds so quietly. His eyes are sharp but soft around the edges. You feel stripped bare, like he’s undressing you with his gaze.

• When he sees your throat bob? He smirks.

• “Getting nervous?” he whispers, and it feels like he’s right next to your ear even though he hasn’t moved an inch.

• The moment your gaze flickers down—just once—he wins. And he knows it.

Changbin

• Gets flustered immediately. Tries to act tough, but you see the way his ears go pink.

• He starts with that goofy grin, but the longer it goes on, the more serious his expression gets. His brows draw together. His jaw sets.

• He licks his lips. That’s his downfall. That unconscious little habit that suddenly makes it feel too real.

• “Why’s it so hot in here?” he mumbles—and you both laugh, but neither of you look away.

Hyunjin

• Deadly. Absolutely lethal. He stares like it’s art. Like you’re art. His eyes are dreamy and half-lidded and burning.

• Leans forward just enough that you can smell his cologne, his breath, and you realize this game? Yeah. It’s not a game anymore.

• His tongue swipes across his lower lip so slowly and he watches your eyes drop to follow it.

• “You blinked,” he says, voice like velvet. And then smirks. “Or maybe you just got distracted.”

Han

• Tries to make jokes to break the tension. “What do I win if I beat you?” “Can I use my puppy eyes as a weapon?”

• But the silence creeps in. Your gaze stays steady. And he changes.

• He starts squirming in place, biting his lip, suddenly too aware of how close you’re sitting, how pretty your eyes are.

• “This doesn’t feel friendly anymore,” he blurts. Then goes beet red. “Not in a bad way—! I mean, not that I don’t—fuck.”

Felix

• So sweet at first. Giggling, winking at you, doing little fake attempts to distract you.

• But when you don’t react, when you just stare? His expression shifts. His voice drops. His freckles seem to glow under the heat of it.

• “You’re really not gonna look away, huh?” he says softly. And then—whispers it again. Closer.

• Your faces are inches apart and the air is thick. And when neither of you move, he just smiles. “Kinda like this…”

Seungmin

• Immediately calls it childish. “This is stupid.” Says he’s not playing. Then plays anyway.

• You match his stare, eyebrow raised. And for once, he breaks. His face twists—caught between annoyed and aroused.

• “Why are you looking at me like that?” he mumbles. But he doesn’t look away. If anything, he leans closer.

• Suddenly it’s quiet. The kind of quiet that makes your skin buzz. You swallow. He watches your throat.

• “Don’t start something you can’t finish,” he says under his breath.

Jeongin

• Tries to win by pure stubbornness. “I’ve got this. I’m unbeatable.”

• But his eyes soften the longer he looks at you. His breathing changes. His lips part just a little.

• He gets so self-conscious, but doesn’t back down. You see him glance at your mouth and immediately regret it.

• “I swear if you move any closer I’m gonna—” he mutters, then cuts himself off.

• Neither of you knows how to stop it now.

#skz imagines #bang chan #bang chan smut #leeknow x reader #leeknow fluff #changbin x you #hyunjin smut #skz headcanons #headcanon #seungmin stray kids #bang chan skz #stray kids smau #stray kids minho #han jisung smut #jeongin x you #felix fluff

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theskywithin · 19 hours ago

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When Silence Isn’t Peace, and What Your Libra House Is Still Trying to Balance

There’s a kind of silence that doesn’t feel calm. It feels like disappearing. Like agreeing just to be loved. Like holding your breath in the hope someone might finally notice you’re choking. We call it peace, but really it’s performance. And in astrology, that silence often lives where Libra rules your chart. The part of you that compromises. Smiles. Softens. Even when you’re aching. Because somewhere along the way, you learned that being too loud, too honest, too much…meant losing connection. But what if you could keep the connection and your voice?

♎︎ Libra in the 1st House

You became agreeable before you became real. You learned that being loved meant being easy on the eyes, on the heart, on the nerves. So you adjusted. You curved your edges inward. You made yourself soft, even when your soul was made of storms. Now there's a version of you standing behind glass, whole, waiting, wondering when it will be safe to stop performing peace and start being seen.

♎︎ Libra in the 2nd House

You gave more than you had just to keep things steady. You mistook self-restraint for self-respect. You made your needs sound reasonable, your desires sound polite. And somewhere in the act of managing everyone's comfort, you buried your own craving for more, for more depth, more freedom, more of you. You learned to survive on balance sheets of approval. But you were always meant to thrive in the raw, unmeasured worth of your own becoming.

♎︎ Libra in the 3rd House

You spoke like a song someone else composed. Your mind learned harmony before honesty. You watered down your truths so they would land gently, so no one would flinch. But now the words are backing up in your throat, aren’t they? The ones that shake when you think them. You weren’t born to speak beautifully. You were born to speak bravely. And no one can hear your real voice if even you’re afraid of it.

♎︎ Libra in the 4th House

You created beauty in broken places. You kept your family from falling apart by making yourself the glue, the quiet one, the pleasant one, the one who never caused waves. You were praised for your grace, never asked how much it cost you. Now, your heart is a hallway of unspoken things. And the home you carry inside feels less like sanctuary, more like museum silence. You deserve rooms you don’t have to earn your way into.

♎︎ Libra in the 5th House

You learned to entertain, not to express. To charm, not to reveal. Your joy became a costume, one that made others feel light while you carried the weight. Even your creativity was curated: lovely, safe, symmetrical. But your soul doesn’t want to be lovely anymore. It wants to be loud. It wants to make a mess and call it art. It wants to be adored without needing to edit itself first.

♎︎ Libra in the 6th House

You were devoted to perfection. To making things smooth, efficient, flawless, even if it meant erasing your fatigue. You offered help before being asked. You made yourself necessary so no one could reject you. But who tends to you when you're the one falling apart quietly? You were never meant to be a well-oiled machine. You were meant to be a whole human being, messy and alive and worthy without productivity.

♎︎ Libra in the 7th House

You became what they needed instead of who you are. You slipped into their silences, mirrored their moods, folded yourself small enough to fit into someone else's life. But what about your life? You weren’t born to disappear in partnerships. You were meant to meet love with your eyes open, your voice steady, your presence fully intact. Love without space for truth isn’t love. It’s a contract built on fear.

♎︎ Libra in the 8th House

You wrapped your wounds in velvet. You put a ribbon on your grief. Even your transformation was meant to look elegant. But healing isn’t delicate, it’s dirty, guttural, loud. You don’t need to look composed while you’re breaking open. You just need to let it happen. Stop making your pain comfortable for others. It was never supposed to be palatable. It was supposed to be honest.

♎︎ Libra in the 9th House

You edited your truth for the sake of peace. Softened your convictions so they wouldn't sound confrontational. But your soul is not subtle. Your truth was born to disrupt. You’re not here to be agreeable. You’re here to be awake, to chase wonder with wild eyes and speak wisdom that cracks open what’s been too long preserved. You don’t need to explain your beliefs in someone else’s language.

♎︎ Libra in the 10th House

You became someone to be proud of. Not someone to be understood. You crafted a public self so perfectly aligned with expectations that now even you forget what you actually want. You’re admired, but are you known? Behind your composure is someone who aches to stop performing, to stop living for applause and start living for peace, the kind that doesn't demand performance to begin with.

♎︎ Libra in the 11th House

You smiled to fit in. Softened your opinions. Became the ideal friend, the easy one, the one who didn’t make waves in the group chat. But community built on convenience is not connection. You’re allowed to be the one who questions the rules. You’re allowed to want more than shared aesthetics—you deserve a space that holds your truth, not just your presence.

♎︎ Libra in the 12th House

You spiritualized your silence. Made your suppression sound poetic. You forgave before you even got the apology. You called your numbness “acceptance.” But your soul doesn’t want to transcend. It wants to feel. It wants to scream, cry, confess, be real. You’re not here to float peacefully above the pain. You’re here to walk through it. Barefoot. Breathing. Brave.

✨ These are only fragments. The full version lives on my Buy Me a Coffee, where I unravel what each house is still trying to keep quiet, what your Libra house has been balancing at your expense. For the ones who want more than peace, for the ones ready to hear themselves again.

#astrology #astro community #astro observations #astro notes #birth chart #natal chart #natal astrology #natal aspects #astrology tumblr #zodiac #libra #astrology readings #astrology blog

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