#journal entries

[hairtusk]

it finally feels like spring and my room is clean and perfect

[yeetthebottle]

Last week so fucked up it made the journal entry sound like a confession of a Spiral avatar in tma.

So anyway who’s curious it sounds like a poem.

[milawritess]

Hybris - Gojo Satoru

Teaser

Word count: 700+

Series mlist

Pairing: Gojo Satoru x Reader

-

He tried not to look too long, as if your beauty was something dangerous. But, you were there, like the sun—a presence that couldn’t be ignored. He saw you in everything, even the spaces you left untouched. It was in the way your laughter lingered long after you were gone, your sweet scent he began to smell on his clothes, and your voice—an echo of a hymn he couldn’t shake. It was in the way you softened the harsh edges of his world, reshaping his deathly reality into something almost beautiful. 

You were like fire or perhaps the wind. You didn’t move with the perfection of something perfectly sculptured like a statue crafted of marble. Your grace was raw, powerful, and untamed. You weren’t flawless, but God, you were bright, vibrant, and alive—unpredictable in ways that left him unsteady on his feet. 

He told himself he wasn’t falling, yet every glance, every fleeting touch, and soft smile pulled him deeper into your orbit until there were no chances of him escaping your gravity. You’ve undone him, bit by bit, piece by piece. You were like the sun, he realized, and he was Icarus. He felt your pull, felt the warmth of your sunshine on his skin, and yet, he was powerless to resist.

“Y’know…” you look down, eyes fluttering. You reach for his hand hesitantly, your careful fingers sliding across the table, inching closer until they find his. He doesn’t pull away; instead, he remains stoic as he watches you, drinking you in like a glass of champagne. “I used to have a hard time thinking you were even real.”

His smirk—his stupid, insufferable, arrogant smirk. You hated it. You hated it almost just as much as you loved it. “You thought I wasn’t real?” He asks tone light and teasing. “What did you think I was? Your imaginary friend? A dream?”

You laugh softly, and the sound is barely audible. It was quiet, more vulnerable than you had intended. “Yeah… Something like that.” 

“Well, I can assure you,” he tells you, turning his hand, palm facing upwards. You slightly flinched at his movement, pulling away as if he burned you, even if the movement was careful and slow. You didn’t want to cross a line with him, always afraid of doing too much too soon, scaring him or perhaps yourself. But you eased, fingers moving closer to his once more when you realized he wasn’t refusing you. You trace the lines of his palm, brushing against the callouses on his skin. “I’m real. Real as real can get.”

Your smile is timid and saccharine. “You were just too much. Too loud, too bright, too you.”

Your touches were simple; soft grazes, hushed whispers against the skin. It's what you liked, what he liked as you treaded new waters. After years of warding off touch, hating just the mere thought of it, this was new for both of you. It was unfamiliar. Intimate in ways that words could never describe. Your shared touches carried a weight that neither of you could ignore—enough to make the soul quiver. He didn’t push or rush you, and you didn’t rush him. He let you come to him on your own time, in your own ways. He has yet to deny you, and he doesn’t think he'll ever have the strength to deny you.

He raises a brow. “Too much? Seems like you were just underprepared for all my greatness.” A moment passes, but you don’t look away. Your smile, soft and delicate, was almost too much to bear. 

For a moment, he feels like the old him—the one that could laugh at anything, reckless, untethered, and unburdened by the weight of power or the weight of duty or expectation. You were unshackling him, rendering him down to nothing but a man. Not a god, not a deity, a soldier, or a weapon. 

Just a man.

He used to find it insulting how you never tiptoed around him, never shied from his rashness or his cruelty hidden behind dark smiles. Rather, you danced with him—a careful waltz. At first, you stumbled; you moved one way, and he moved the other. There were moments when the music seemed too quiet, and the space between you two became too vast. However, hesitance became harmony; harsh steps became lighter, and your bodies grew closer as they spun, weaving together like threads of a tapestry.  

“Well, if you were—a dream, an allusion—you were the best thing I could have ever conjured up.” 

“Oh, please keep going. Tell me how great you think I am,” he says boldly, a playful lit in his tone.  “I’m all ears, Cherry.”

[sananaryon]

The Journal of Luz Clawthorne Noceda, documenting the Frogvasion of the Boiling Isles.

I.e. I finally got around to making some art of my own for my edgy owlphibia au, specifically as told from Luz's very flawed and unreliable point of view. Feel free to ask me about details of the AU because I love talking!

Text and image description under the cut.

Image description: Four pictures of illustrated journal pages, each with one or two illustrations done in watercolour and ink.

The first page has watercolour and ink drawing of the Titan's skull from The Owl House, with the sky, clouds, and the moon in the background. The archive house, resembling a crown, is hanging aroudn the right side of the skull with a piece broken off. Above the skull, the castle from Amphibia is floating surrounded by smaller shapes too small to make out. Parts of the skull and land around it is smoking. On the right side of the page is a symbol resembling a frog's foot done in bronze ink, with the label "Empire's sigil?"

Text:

3 N.E.

36. abruary.

1 month after Frogvasion

Journal of Luz Clawthorne Noceda. It's been one month since the start of frogvasion (Bailey says that's a stupid name but she got her name from an old science-fiction book so she doesn't get a vote,) and I am writing this in our new resistance HQ (Hooty play Empire Strikes Back) at King's island.

I have decided to write this record of events [text is struck out]because auntie Lilith forced me [struck out text ends, next sentence is written in cursive] for the sake of future historians and to give the view of someone living through historical events. [cursive ends]

So, to recap: One month ago on the 3-year anniversary of Belos getting his ass kicked for good, a giant floating castle with an army of frog-shaped robots and warships popped out of thin air (or from a giant rainbow portal). Then a lady in a dress showed up in the middle of the party and gave an alien invasion speech about us joining the Empire of Calamity [frog foot symbol is drawn here]. So Raine (Lord High Prince) (that's witch prime minister) went to talk to her but then she did some mind control shit and we got them the heck out of there.

And now an army of frog robots (Frobots) are conquering the isles led by some crazy powerful fire god!!! I should probably explain her, huh?

Signed: Luz C. Noceda & Lilith Clawthorne.

[text ends]

The second page has a watercolour painting done entirely in blue and white, depicting a woman in silhouette with glowing white eyes. She has an afro and is wearing a dress and making a pose with one hand to her chest and one out to the side, and there is a halo above her head. Next to her is text saying "Looks human. Probably isn't."

Further down on the page is watercolour and ink drawing depicting an indistinct red figure kneeling to the blue figure from before, this time with her skin and hair coloured brown. Next to the red figure is the text "WTF?" with an arrow pointing to the figure, and next to the blue lady is text saying "Blue all over" "Glowy eyes" and "She's not that pretty."

Text:

The Blue Princess

(We don't know her name)

The first of the Empire of Calamity Leaders (???) who appeared.

She just appeared in the middle of the victory/anniversary feast and demanded we surrendered to her Emperor (we've had enough of that here, thank you). Lord Prince raine stepped up to talk to her, but it took like 5 seconds before they were kneeling. Sorry lady, we know what mind control looks like and we're not falling for it. [the "for it" is slightly smudged] woops.

Weirdly, Raine says they never felt a compulsion to kneel, and that it was more like the first time they met Belos - that this person is important and should be bowed to. I don't get how that's different but they say they also remember thinking she was the most beautiful person they've seen, so maybe it's a charm? Raine has snapped out of it, so it doesn't last long.

The princess hasn't appeared since then so she might not be a fighter, but Lilith is making potions of anti charm with B's moms, just in case.

signed: Luz C. Noceda.

Powers: Mind control

Weaknesses: Not a figher (???)

suspected

[text ends]

The third page has a watercolour painting of a dark silhouette with one arm raised surrounded by red flames. Above their head is an orb of white made up of lines curling in on themselves.

Next to the main painting is a watercolour and ink drawing of three figures. One is an indistinct man in purple with a topknot and cape, one is an indistinct green lady with palm-like hair, and one is the same figure from before. The former two are shooting abomination goop and vines towards the latter.

Text:

The Red General

(no name either)

The leader of the Empire's army. Since the start of Frogvasion, they've been leading that army of frogbots from city to city, ordering surrender and burning and pillaging when not met with compliance. They always wear that armor, so no idea what they look like. We just call them the Red General.

(Boscha wants me to write that she calls them "that red psycho." I said that's not very nice to people with psychosis and she said "eat my ass" so I said maybe later.)

They showed up first when we were evacuating the Council House (former Archive House) cuz a floating castle had started floating above it. And when I say "showed up" I mean cracked an entire wing while burning like a meteor.

Darius and Terra (she got out on probation) tried to hold them of while we evacuated, but...

I know plants can burn, I never thought I'd see abomination goop boil.

Darius is at the other base, recovering, but [text struck out and indistinct] He'll be fine. Bailey is just worried.

Red hasn't done anything like that again, but we'll be careful

Signed: Luz C. Noceda & Boscha

Boscha stop stop messing up the ink

-L

Make me

-B

I'm telling Lilith

-L

[text ends]

The fourth page is taken up by a watercolour painting depicting a pair of orange and yellow eyes with white pupils surrounded by darkness.

Text

The Emperor

Emperor of Numberless Worlds

The princess mentioned them. We know nothing

Boscha made dark chokelate and spilled all over this page.

-L

[text ends]

[raining-tulips]

sometimes you don't finish...sometimes that's okay.

[shefightslikeagirl]

From the Archives (28/?) ↳ COME TO MY PARTY???? Journal Entry, 2006

[snehaunveils]

Entry from old journal.

[milos-journal]

i dont really post art here anymore. but yeah i’ll post this shitass doodle while this show is trendy

[lyralit]

1.1.24 - writing progress & new year's resolutions

I've recently decided to try and write a little every day: so today I sat down and put on a timer (I use this one) but I changed the pomodoro settings to 10 minute work time and 1 minute break (with a 5 minute long break). I wrote 1,3k in a sitting! This is the most I've written in so long.

here are some writing things I want to try in the new year: - keeping a writing progress chart - doing ten minute writing sprints with 1 minute pauses - having conversations out loud on a voice memo and retyping it later on - writing scenes in the order I feel like writing them and reorganizing them later - having a journal of random scenes that I can put into stories (keeping track of my random prompts) - keeping a word count diary

on the other hand, here are my writing (related) resolutions! - post consistently on tumblr, both with journal (like this one) entries and prompts - to try and keep writing even if it's bad. you can be a bad author, or you can not be one at all (though frankly I don't *really* believe this. but it's a resolution, so I'll try) - engage my tumblr community! (would anyone be interested in sharing their own prompts in responses to asks?) - this is The Year (like last year and the one before). I'm going to Write A Book. - stay in love with writing. even if it means knowing when to stop, or trying to start again.

but cheers to everyone I've met in 2024, who have come, and cheers to those who have stayed. I wish you the best creative year yet. until tomorrow!

k.

[askskyyoung]

III

This is something out of my field of expertise. But the saying goes that desperate times call for desperate measures. Viktor's health is declining rapidly. He had thought I didn't catch the sight of red against the white of his handkerchief after a bad coughing fit. But I did. And instead of guilt and sadness gripping me by the throat, I felt a wave of determination, even anger. There has to be a way to fight this. There must be a cure. Anything. Something. Molds have since created antibiotics. Yarrow, poplar, and willow trees are known for pain relief. Aloe and countless other plants for skin treatments and remedies. (The entry cuts short, never finished or dated, and then starts again in a different colored ink.) Innovation is not man's weakness but his strength in the pursuit of bettering his own kind. And that is what I intend to do. Rio had visited days ago. While traveling, she needed to be administered a dose of Shimmer. Right before my eyes, where necrosis had settled deeply into flesh, it receded, reversed, and slowed. While not entirely eliminated, it was a remarkable feat. I had taken three vials with permission. Since then, I have set up my office as a private work space to develop the isolation of Shimmer's positive and negative enantiomers. (The writing becomes messy.) I had acquired mice and performed a handful of preliminary tests. The same phenomenon that happened before my eyes with Rio's particular case being one of the several results. If this works… Just think of the lives I could save. Illnesses that can be slowed. Viktor (The vertical line that makes the letter "r" is dragged down the page as if the writer had unwillingly fallen asleep with pen still in hand.) Viktor could be saved. Please, Janna, if anything, this needs to work. I will conduct three more tests and two more purified shimmer variants. The next phase will be human trials. (Ink splotches dot about the signature)

sky young

[hairtusk]

[scribblesofapoet]

December is approaching, and with it the summer heat.

I long to be kissed by the sun, to lay in the sea looking up at endless blue. To feel the sand burning my feet as I run towards the sea.

For now the days are humid and wet, with no sun to see past the wall of grey clouds.

But the moment that changes, you’ll find me by the sea.

[darkpsychprincess]

enter if you dare to romanticize ruin...

welcome to prettydarkimpulse🖤 — a curated mess of soft horrors, psychoanalytic spirals, and lipstick-stained self-reflection.

I’m a pretty mess in a velvet dress, triggered by eye contact and unresolved trauma, leaving rose petals, red flags, and repressed memories in my wake.💕

read me like a book you were warned about.

🕯️ posts on: dark academia • feminine rage • aesthetic breakdowns • femme psych theory • emotional hauntings • literature, love, and latent issues

📌 currently: dissociating in style

❥ mutuals = therapy

✉️ talk to me. or don’t. I’ll probably overanalyze either way.

[starlight-striker219-blog]

Journal Entries: Reunited with My Love ❤️

After being lost in the portal for 30 years, being separated from his dearest fiancé… He finally got to see her again. Every day he thought of Elaina, how much he missed her, wondering if she truly waited for him or if she moved on. But seeing her again after 30 years… his breath was taken away. She was just as beautiful as the day he lost her…

[paradoxical-plutonian]

It would be wrong to say I am grieving. Grieving feels like such an active process, a constant yearning. Instead, I feel passive acceptance in a world washed of color.

-02/04/2024

[king-midas-fortnite]

Journal Entry: Forced to relocate

The First Order has moved in

So, my crew and I have vacated the home we had chosen for ourselves. We had not been there long enough at all, I think, to have been fooled by any sense of permanence, though the loss angers me regardless as it was of no choice of our own.

New groups have come to the Island. Intruded upon it, as many often do. From what I gather, the faction that commandeered my property is known as The First Order. "Bad guys" if I have ever seen any in my two thousand some-odd years alive. They are also, apparently, in control of that thing in the sky. The Death Star. Nothing I was able to gather from the IO's files has anything good to say about that fucking thing. But there is little at this juncture to be done about it looming over all of us.

Mizuki warned me about the arrival of a threat to our home, and I had planned to fight. We prepared. However, I knew better when that thing got closer. It would not be a fight my crew could win. No matter how much faith I have in all of us, the numbers of The First Order, and their weapons, there would have been no point. Risking their lives for something as trite as a condominium will never be something I allow to happen.

I had everyone gather their things the day everything else showed up. We all gathered on The Marigold, and moved down the coast to another building south east. The inlet there is barely big enough to accommodate her, but we managed. On the hill, the building itself is retrofitted as an office space.

We are going to try and change that; convert most of the rooms to a living space the best we can, and use one floor to keep our monitoring operations going. Perhaps ramp them up if we are able, but I am not going to rush such things. While I am more than eager to have my finger on the pulse of our new Island visitors, morale is low.

It seemed as though everyone enjoyed having someplace to call our own. Someplace not strictly tied to my business. Someplace they could all spread out and...live.

I felt the same. Having the Marigold to myself and Valeria (for the most part) was...lovely. It was quiet.

Visiting up the zip and seeing my family happy together, smiling in spaces they made their own, enjoying themselves, it was wonderful. I know we will all appreciate a bit of time to settle ourselves after losing it.

I am so fucking angry. I am trying not to let that be all I am, but old habits die hard. Rage becomes me, unfortunately. Still, I would hate to let it consume me. I do not wish to be the man the Outlaw appears to be, wherever he and his ilk have slinked off to hide during all of this.

Reminder: Unless discussed, these are not "public" to other Tumblrverse characters. Okay to reblog, but please do not roleplay on journal entries!