#I just want someone who is unapologetically into me and not afraid to show it 🥺

[ghostlynightpanda]

hii! could you write a aib hc when seeing y/n performing as a gen 2 k-pop idol? (their concepts are the same as AOA or T-ara,...) could be in a group or a solo artist, whatever you choose, if it helps you with ideas! I just want to see how would the characters react seeing them performing to all those cunty songs— under your writing.

thank you, luv! ><

AIB Characters react to Reader being a Gen 2 K-Pop Idol

content/warnings: Ann, Kuina, Mira, Aguni, Niragi, Last Boss, Chishiya, canon typical blood and violence, 3.600 words

Ann

The night was humid, thick with ocean salt and danger. The Beach compound was buzzing with its usual chaos—half-dressed players swimming, laughing, plotting quietly in corners. The game for the day had been brutal, the kind that left even the most hardened competitors exhausted and bloodstained.

But tonight? Tonight was different.

There was a makeshift stage lit up with salvaged floodlights and strung-up neon tubes, pulsing pink and electric blue. Hatter, the leader of the Beach, in one of his more whimsical moods, declared a mandatory "morale celebration." Which really meant: show, dance, entertain us, or else.

That's when you stepped up. The girl who always wore eyeliner even in a survival game. The one who walked like the world still had paparazzi. No one knew exactly how you made it this far, but the whispers around the Beach said you were deadly in Hearts games and danced like a siren in a mirror maze.

Tonight, you were in your element. You walked on stage in a crop top made from repurposed vinyl, glimmering under the lights, high-waisted shorts hugging your frame, boots stomping like you owned the earth. The backing track started—something with heavy synths, pulsing bass, and attitude—and then it began.

You hit that first move like a whip crack. Hair flip. Hip thrust. Finger snap.

The crowd lost it.

And standing at the very back, her arms folded and eyes unreadable, was Ann.

She hadn't meant to stay. She hated this kind of spectacle—wasteful energy, forced joy, noise for noise's sake. She only came because Hatter asked her to keep an eye on the new recruits. But then the music started. Then you started.

Ann couldn't look away.

Your confidence was dangerous. Not just in the way you danced—fluid, fierce, unapologetically cunty—but in the way you smiled at the crowd like you weren't stuck in a kill-or-be-killed nightmare. You danced like the deadly games didn't exist. Like the stage was the real world and this was your comeback performance.

Ann's fingers twitched. She remembered nights before all this, going to clubs in Shibuya, watching girls like you on TVs in cafes or advertisements in train stations. She never gave them much thought then. But here, under the deadly fluorescent glow of the Beach?

You were magnetic.

Every body roll, every wink, every pointed toe screamed: I am still alive, and I am not afraid of being seen.

The song ended with a hair toss and a cheeky smirk. You struck your final pose like a blade through the silence. The crowd erupted.

Ann didn't clap.

But she stayed.

Later that night, after things had quieted down, you found her alone on the balcony. You were still in your stage outfit, still glittering faintly. She glanced over, cool and unreadable as ever.

"You watching me all night or just bored of chaos?" you teased.

Ann exhaled slowly. "You shouldn't be able to move like that after what we went through today."

"I perform better after high-stakes trauma," you smirked, half-joking.

She tilted her head, studying you again with that quiet gaze that always felt like a laser. "That wasn't just a performance."

You shrugged. "Maybe not. Maybe it was proof."

"Of what?"

"That being a weapon doesn't mean you have to be ugly doing it."

A pause. Then—something rare—a faint smile tugged at Ann's lips.

"You looked like you were ready to kill someone with your hips," she murmured.

"Maybe I was."

And for the first time in a long time, Ann laughed. Just a little. Just enough.

Kuina

Night had fallen, and the Beach was in rare form—lanterns lit, music pumping, the scent of grilled meat mixing with sea breeze and sweat. After another brutal day of games, Hatter decided the Beach needed something to lift morale. And what better distraction than a surprise performance?

They said you were a K-pop idol before all this. A real one. Not one of those underground club dancers or viral wannabes. The real deal. Glossy music videos, fan chants, limited edition photo cards. No one knew how you got here, but your presence at the Beach was infamous. Rumors spread: She danced her way through a Spades game. Seduced her way through a Hearts game. Out-styled her way through Diamonds.

Kuina didn't believe any of it. Until tonight.

You stepped onto the makeshift stage, hips cocked, smile sharp. The music dropped, and you transformed.

Kuina froze mid-sip of her beer.

The track was pure 2012 energy—glamorous, glittering, cunty in that signature second-gen way. You moved like sin wrapped in sequins, every pop of your hip and curve of your body screaming confidence. Your hair flipped like a weapon, your gaze cutting like a knife.

Kuina was stunned. Not because of the sex appeal—she'd seen plenty of that in clubs, in fights, in life—but because you didn't hold back.

In this hellish world, most people tried to survive quietly. You? You survived loud. You were out here serving vocals, giving choreo, radiating that unbothered bad-bitch energy like these deadly games were just another stage.

Kuina grinned slowly.

"Oh my god, she's actually—"

"Serving," Niragi muttered next to her, beer halfway to his mouth, eyes wide.

"Right?!" Kuina laughed.

She leaned forward, elbows on her knees, completely hooked. You strutted across that tiny platform like it was M Countdown. When you did a body roll right into a wink, Kuina let out an actual whoop.

"GET IT, BABY!" she shouted, cupping her hands around her mouth.

You caught her eye. Smirked.

That was it.

Later, she caught you backstage, toweling off, your glitter makeup smudged but somehow still perfect.

"You didn't have to go that hard," she said, arms crossed, but the smirk on her lips betrayed her amusement.

You looked up, teasing. "You liked it."

"Everyone liked it," she shot back. "I think even these disgusting militants were sweating a little."

You snorted. "Good. Maybe I can distract them long enough for someone to knife them."

Kuina laughed. "Now that's the kind of girl I vibe with."

She reached into her hoodie pocket and tossed you a stolen bottle of water. "Hydrate, superstar. You just made the Beach look like an afterparty at the MAMAs."

You took a long sip, then raised a brow. "Fan behavior."

Kuina rolled her eyes but couldn't stop grinning. "I'm not a fan. I'm just... impressed."

"Sure," you teased, stepping closer. "Well, next time, I'll dedicate a move just for you."

She raised a brow. "You better. Or I'm crashing the stage and dancing with you."

You smirked. "That a promise?"

Kuina leaned in close, her voice low, sultry. "Oh, baby. That's a threat."

Mira

Mira was bored.

And when Mira was bored, someone usually ended up dead, crying, or in love—sometimes all three, depending on how creative she felt.

The Beach had become too predictable. Power struggles. Secrets. Hatter's attempts at unifying chaos with cocktails and empty speeches. Mira moved through it all, gliding through another unimportant party—amused, untouched.

Until you arrived.

A mysterious new addition. Not flashy about your kills, not visibly violent. Just... present. Quietly stylish. Pretty, but in that cultured pretty way. Long lashes. Pierced cartilage. Glitter on your collarbone, even in a survival game. You didn't run from the spotlight—you seemed like you dragged it with you wherever you went.

Naturally, Mira was intrigued.

So she planned a little event. A "celebration," she called it. An elegant excuse to gather the Beach's elite. Champagne stolen from the backrooms. A stage cobbled together with mirrored tiles and luxury trash. Everyone thought it was Hatter's idea.

It wasn't.

It was hers.

Because she wanted to see you.

And darling, you did not disappoint.

The moment the music started—retro synths, hypnotic bass, that signature Gen 2 "I'm hot and I know it" vibe—Mira crossed her legs and tilted her head with a smile.

You sauntered onto the stage like a goddess late to her own coronation. Wearing a cropped jacket with jeweled fringe, high-waisted shorts, knee-high boots, and confidence that made every gaze snap to attention. You didn't dance so much as dominate.

You dipped low. Rolled your hips. Blew kisses that could have been daggers. Every move oozed control.

And Mira?

She. Was. Enraptured.

She sipped her drink slowly, eyes locked on you like a cat watching a flickering light—half amusement, half obsession. You looked like the type of person who would laugh while playing a Hearts game and seduce your opponent just to kill them a moment later.

Oh, she liked you.

When the performance ended—sweat on your brow, applause echoing, even Aguni nodding slightly in approval—Mira clapped softly, perfectly timed, like the last punctuation in a decadent sentence.

She didn't approach you right away.

She waited. Let the others buzz. Let you cool down, towel off, take a few sips of water. Then, like a final act in a play she choreographed herself, she found you alone on the rooftop terrace, overlooking the sea.

"You're quite the spectacle," she purred.

You turned, not startled. You knew she'd come.

"You planned all that," you said simply.

She smiled. "Guilty. I do love a beautiful performance. Especially one that walks the line between art and danger."

You raised a brow. "And which side am I on?"

Mira stepped closer, her perfume soft but intoxicating. "You're still dancing on the edge. But I wonder… will you fall? Or will you pull the rest of us over with you?"

You smirked. "I could ask you the same thing, Mira."

She laughed—a soft, sparkling laugh that promised both pleasure and peril. "Touché. I hope you'll perform again sometime."

You tilted your head. "Are you asking as a fan?"

She leaned in, lips near your ear.

"Oh no, darling. As a player."

Aguni

Aguni didn't go to Beach parties.

He wasn't there for the music, or the luxury, or the chaos masked as freedom. He was there for control, for strategy, for watching. Always watching.

So when he found himself standing near the back of the makeshift courtyard, arms crossed over his chest, watching you take the stage in a rhinestone-covered jacket and impossibly short shorts, he told himself he was just there to keep the peace.

Not because he was curious.

Not because he'd heard whispers about the new girl—the idol. Not because someone told him, "You have to see her move. She dances like she's untouchable."

But then you stepped onto the platform.

And Aguni forgot what silence sounded like.

You started with a smile—slow, confident, like you already knew they were yours. The bass hit. You turned, snapped your head to the beat, and launched into choreography so precise, so fluid, so dangerously cocky that the air itself seemed to shift around you.

Aguni had seen countless people fight, kill, die. But he'd never seen someone perform like they were at war with reality. You didn't move like you were trapped in this world. You moved like this world was trapped with you.

It was a full-on second-gen girl group concept—sultry, sharp, powerful. There were hip thrusts and catwalk struts, cheeky smirks and hair flips that defied physics. The crowd hooted and whistled.

Aguni didn't move.

But his eyes never left you.

You were a weapon of a different kind. Beautiful and bold and maddeningly alive. Where others survived by sharpening blades, you survived by reminding people what it meant to still feel something.

And that scared him more than any gun.

Later that night, he found you on the rooftop, where the ocean breeze cut the heat of the party. You leaned on the railing, face turned to the moon, your stage outfit half-zipped down, revealing bare shoulders and sweat-kissed skin.

"I thought you didn't care about Beach parties," you said without turning.

He stepped beside you, silent for a moment.

"I don't."

You smiled. "Yet here you are."

Aguni didn't respond immediately. He looked at you, really looked. The smeared eyeliner. The bruises from earlier games, not yet healed. The glint in your eyes that said I know exactly what I'm doing.

"I've seen people fight with knives," he said, low. "Guns. Words."

You raised a brow. "And?"

"You fight with fire."

That caught you off guard. Just for a second. Then you turned, resting your chin on your hand as you leaned toward him, amused.

"You like it?"

Aguni didn't smile. But his voice dipped into something darker, quieter.

"I respect it."

You leaned in, the air tight between you.

"Careful, Aguni. People who respect fire usually end up burned."

He met your gaze, unwavering.

"Sometimes the burn's the only thing that reminds us we're still alive."

Niragi

The Beach was loud that night. Not because of gunfire. Not because of games. But because of you.

The former idol. The glitterbomb. The girl who moved like sin and dressed like a fantasy. No one knew how you survived so long, how you kept that glow, that stage presence, but here you were—on a rigged-up platform of metal and lights, commanding the entire Beach like it was your fanbase.

Your song dropped—a sultry, synth-heavy banger straight out of a second-gen girl group playbook. Think T-ara meets Nine Muses, with lyrics that dripped attitude and sex. You strutted, twirled, body-rolled like you had something to prove.

And from the edge of the crowd, Niragi watched.

Licked his lips.

Grinned like a wolf.

He wasn't subtle about it. He never was.

When you popped your hip and flipped your hair, he whooped. Loud. When you threw a wink into the crowd, he pointed at himself and mouthed, That for me, babe?

People rolled their eyes. A few backed away. But you saw him. You saw the black shirt, the shiny piercings, the gun strapped casually to his thigh, and that shark-smile that never quite reached his eyes.

And instead of backing down?

You smirked.

And blew him a kiss.

That was it. He was hooked.

Later, he cornered you. Not in an alley—just in the hallway near the rooftop stairs, cigarette in his mouth, one hand on the wall beside your head.

"You're either the dumbest bitch here," he said, voice low and playful, "or the most dangerous. And I haven't decided which I like more."

You didn't flinch. Didn't shrink. Just looked him dead in the eye and replied, "You're loud for someone who couldn't keep up with my footwork."

He barked out a laugh. "Oh? That a challenge?"

You stepped closer, noses nearly brushing. "No. That's a warning."

Niragi blinked, caught off guard—but just for a second. Then his grin widened.

"God, I like you."

You smirked. "You should."

From that moment on, Niragi was obsessed. Not soft, not romantic—obsessed in the way only someone like him could be.

He started showing up to your practices—actual fighting skills you were learning from Kuina, not just dancing. He'd drop snarky comments like, "Those shorts get any smaller, I'm gonna pass out," trying to distract you the entire time, only to get dead-eyed and ignored.

But what made him crazy?

You never reacted like he wanted you to.

You didn't flinch. Didn't flirt back. You fought like you didn't need his attention—but you knew you had it. And you used it.

Once, during a private little "stage" performance you were forced into—only a few players watching—you did an entire number and never once looked at Niragi.

Until the very end.

One smirk. One knowing glance.

And he damn near lost his mind.

"You're not scared of me," he said one night, cornering you again. This time, quieter. "You should be."

You looked at him slowly. "You're not scared of me either. And you should be."

Silence stretched between you.

Then Niragi chuckled, low and shaky, like he didn't know whether to kiss you or kill you.

"I really don't know if I wanna dance with you… or burn everything down because I can't stop watching you."

You leaned in, lips brushing his ear.

"Either way, baby," you whispered, "you're already playing my game."

Last Boss

The air at the Beach was thick with sweat, smoke, and cheap neon lights. Another party. Another chance to forget that people were dying just outside the resort walls. A few members dragged couches around the makeshift courtyard, the vibe more rave than rebellion.

You were introduced like a secret weapon.

"Former idol," someone whispered as you took the stage. "Real deal. Like... Seoul stages. Music shows. The works."

Last Boss leaned against a pillar in the shadows, one hand on the hilt of his katana. He hadn't planned on staying long. He hated the noise. The decadence. The illusion that this was anything more than a prison in paradise's clothes.

But then the music started.

And you stepped into the spotlight.

You were stunning.

Not in the fragile, glass-doll way. No—you were commanding. The song was pulsing with second-gen flavor: high heels, synth bass, attitude in every breath. A sound born for the stage, soaked in danger and glitter.

Your body moved like you remembered what it was like to own the world. You didn't ask for attention—you took it. Every wave of your hips, every flick of your fingers was calculated, confident, and deadly in its own way.

Last Boss didn't move. Didn't blink.

He'd seen people kill with knives.

You killed with eye contact.

For a moment, the Beach vanished. It was just you, in flashing lights, backdropped by music and memory and something untouchable.

And he couldn't look away.

After the performance, the crowd dispersed, high on adrenaline and heat. You vanished from the stage, the spotlight fading—but Last Boss followed. Quiet. Unannounced.

He found you in a dim hallway near the back exit, wiping sweat from your collarbone with a small towel. You didn't jump when you saw him. You just raised a brow, still catching your breath.

"I didn't take you for a fan," you said.

He stepped closer, slow and deliberate. "I'm not."

You smiled. "Good. I don't need fans. I need people who understand what it means to survive while performing."

Last Boss tilted his head. "That's why I watched. You weren't just entertaining. You were... surviving."

You chuckled. "Takes one to know one, huh?"

He didn't laugh. But his gaze dropped to the sweat glistening on your collarbone. The faint rise and fall of your chest. The bruises hidden beneath your glitter.

"You move like a weapon," he said finally.

You stepped forward, close enough to see the flecks of red in his tired eyes. "And you watch like you're waiting for me to strike."

"I am."

You smiled—slow, dangerous. "Good. Then don't blink."

After that night, he always stood at the edge of your performances. Watching. Not clapping. Never cheering. Just... present.

And if someone got too close to you? If someone touched you without permission?

That person learned quickly that Last Boss didn't just carry that sword for aesthetic.

He didn't say he liked your performances. He didn't have to.

His silence was loyalty.

And his loyalty? That was deadlier than anything on stage.

Chishiya

Chishiya didn't do parties.

He didn't drink. He didn't dance. He didn't need to feel alive—he just needed to stay alive.

So when a crowd gathered around a makeshift stage for some "morale-boosting performance," he leaned against the second-floor railing, expression flat. Below, people whooped and clapped and screamed your name like it meant something in this godforsaken world.

He almost turned away.

Then you stepped on stage.

And Chishiya paused.

You didn't enter quietly. You strutted. A slow, deliberate walk in thigh-high boots and glitter that sparkled like broken glass. You gave the audience a lazy wink before the music dropped—a pulse of synth and bass that would've filled any club in Seoul before the world turned to hell.

Your movements were sharp. Precise. Calculated. There was something mathematical about the way you danced, like every sway of your hips had a hidden formula. Every smile was a bluff. Every hair flip? A tell.

Chishiya tilted his head.

You weren't just performing.

You were playing.

And suddenly, he was interested.

After the show, he found you alone, reapplying lip gloss in a broken mirror, your reflection fractured like everything else in this world. You saw him in the glass before you even turned.

"No autograph, sorry," you said dryly.

He smirked. "You're not just an idol, are you?"

You glanced at him. "You're not just a doctor, either."

Touché.

Chishiya stepped closer. "That performance. It wasn't just for fun."

"Of course not," you said, uncapping your gloss again. "Fun's dead. Like half the people here."

"Then what was it for?"

You turned to face him fully, eyes sharp under glitter-shadowed lids.

"Distraction," you said. "Misdirection. Power."

You leaned in, close enough for him to smell your perfume—sweet, sharp, deliberate.

"Everyone else watched me like a fantasy," you whispered. "You watched me like a threat."

A beat of silence.

Then he smiled—slow and dangerous. "Because you are."

From that night on, Chishiya watched you more carefully.

Not out of affection. Not even out of desire.

Out of respect.

Because in a place where survival came from smarts and sleight of hand, you were the only one who could weaponize rhythm and eyeliner with the precision of a surgeon.

And Chishiya?

He loved a good strategist.

Especially one who played in stilettos.

Masterlist

[theskywithin]

Birth Chart Breakdown: Planets in The Fifth House

☉ Sun in the Fifth House There is a fire in you that refuses to dim, no matter how many times life tries to smother it. You burn with the ache to be seen, not for what you do, but for who you are when no one is watching. Yet with every step into the light, your heart races because you know the price of exposure. Still, you rise. You step forward, trembling but determined, carrying the wild hope that someone, somewhere, will see your flame and whisper: you were born to burn this way.

☽ Moon in the Fifth House You want to be felt, not just seen, felt in the way only hearts can feel hearts. There is a quiet ache beneath your boldness, a longing to have your soul recognized in its raw softness. You dream of someone reaching past the surface and holding your fragile hopes with care. You open yourself, even when it terrifies you, because deep down you know: it is better to risk the bruise than to carry the weight of feeling invisible.

☿ Mercury in the Fifth House Your voice trembles with unspoken hopes. Every word you release is stitched with the longing to be understood, not just heard. You speak like you're reaching across a canyon, hoping someone will answer back in a way that feels like home. Beneath your quick wit and bright thoughts, there is a quiet cry: see me in the spaces between my sentences. Feel me in the words I cannot say out loud.

♀ Venus in the Fifth House You carry your beauty like a secret prayer, hoping it will be answered without having to be spoken. You long to be chosen without pleading, to be desired for your essence, not for the mask you wear, but for the soul beneath. There’s a quiet yearning in you to feel someone's gaze settle on you softly, like a hand placed over your heart. And even when the ache feels endless, you still offer your light, hoping it draws the right soul near.

♂ Mars in the Fifth House Desire courses through you like blood through your veins, fierce and undeniable. You crave to live fully, to burn so brightly that the sky itself feels too small. But this fire comes with fear, the fear of falling, of burning out, of wanting too much. Still, you would rather set yourself alight than live dimmed. You run toward life with open arms, even knowing it might hurt, because for you, to feel alive is worth every scar.

♃ Jupiter in the Fifth House You want life to feel like a celebration, loud, free, wild with color. You open your heart wide, hoping that if you give enough light, the world will reflect it back. Beneath your laughter, there is hope: that your joy will be met with open hands, not empty echoes. You keep dancing even when the music falters, because you believe in the magic of your own rhythm, and in the wild possibility that someone will dance with you, without hesitation.

♄ Saturn in the Fifth House You fear what it means to be seen. You’ve built walls around your fire, afraid it might flicker too small to be worthy, or too bright to be safe. But deep inside, the longing remains, the desperate wish to be recognized beneath your careful armor. Slowly, painfully, you peel back the layers, letting the light escape in cautious beams. And with every brave step, you learn: it is not weakness to want to be seen. It is human. It is hope.

♅ Uranus in the Fifth House You were never meant to shrink for anyone. There is rebellion in your fire, a refusal to be contained. You show yourself boldly, unapologetically, not because you seek approval, but because hiding feels like suffocation. You know your spark might startle, might disrupt, but you burn anyway. And in doing so, you give others permission to rise in their own unruly light, free and fierce.

♆ Neptune in the Fifth House You dream of being seen in your softness, in the way sunlight touches water and turns it to gold. You long for someone to look at you and see past the surface, to see the dreamer, the believer, the soul behind the shimmer. But sometimes you fear that your light is too hazy, too faraway to be touched. Still, you let it glow, because you know: even in mist, your light reaches hearts that feel like home.

♇ Pluto in the Fifth House You carry a fire so deep it scares even you. To let it out feels like surrendering your power and yet, you feel powerless to hold it in. Beneath your intensity lies the fear of annihilation: that if you show yourself fully, there will be nothing left to hide behind. But when you dare, when you finally let your true fire rise, you don’t lose yourself, you become yourself. Fierce, unbreakable, unforgettable.

🌙 Everything’s in your birth chart and in my book - The Sky Within

[moonreader1010]

Things about you that will have them hooked 💋🧿 (18+)

-by Valerie

Pick one of the following piles:-

Pile 1. Pile 2.

Pile 3. ^

Note:- the pictures used don't belong to me and all the rights go to their original owners.

-This is for entertainment purposes only. Take what resonates.

-minors DNI.

-take a deep breath and pick the pile that calls you.

Pile 1.

The Soulful Romantic

Cards Pulled: The Empress, The Moon, Ace of Cups, The Lovers, King of Pentacles, Seven of Wands

This person will be drawn to the divine sensuality you radiate. The Empress speaks of your natural beauty and allure—there’s something about the way you carry yourself that exudes confidence and an untouchable, goddess-like energy. When they’re near you, they feel like they’re stepping into a dream, a mystery they can’t unravel, as shown by The Moon. Your ability to reveal just enough while leaving so much to the imagination keeps them utterly captivated. With the Ace of Cups, you’re like a refreshing oasis, igniting a deep emotional connection that they haven’t felt with anyone else. The Lovers shows that they see you as their ultimate partner, someone they’d risk everything for. Meanwhile, the King of Pentacles hints at how grounded and self-sufficient you are, which only intensifies their desire to prove their worth to you. Yet, the Seven of Wands adds a layer of challenge—you’re not easily won over, and your resistance only makes them want you more.

Visionary Scenario: Imagine them watching you laugh softly in a dimly lit café, the glow of candlelight playing on your skin. They’re hooked on the way your eyes seem to hold a thousand secrets, the way you sip your coffee like royalty. They’d sit across the table, leaning in, mesmerized, while their heart races, thinking, "How do I convince them to let me in?"

Pile 2.

The Adventurous Spirit

Cards Pulled: Knight of Wands, The Star, Nine of Pentacles, Two of Cups, The Tower, Page of Swords

This person is a thrill-seeker, and your fiery passion lights a spark in them they can’t ignore. With the Knight of Wands, it’s your boldness and unpredictability that leave them intrigued. You’re not afraid to take risks or live unapologetically, and that’s a magnetic pull for them. The Star reveals that you’re like a beacon of hope and inspiration in their life. They’re drawn to your optimism, your dreams, and how you’re unafraid to chase after what you want. The Nine of Pentacles highlights your independence and elegance; they see you as someone who has built a life of richness—both externally and within. When the Two of Cups appears, it suggests that they feel an undeniable emotional and physical chemistry with you. The Tower, though, adds an element of danger. You shake up their life in the best way possible, forcing them out of their comfort zone. With the Page of Swords, they’re constantly trying to figure you out, hooked on your intelligence and the way you keep them guessing.

Visionary Scenario: Picture this—on an impromptu road trip, you’re laughing as you tease them, wind blowing through your hair. They glance over at you from the driver’s seat, utterly hypnotized by the way you radiate freedom and excitement. In that moment, they think, "I’d follow them anywhere."

Pile 3.

The Intellectual Dreamer

Cards Pulled: Queen of Swords, Temperance, Three of Pentacles, Ten of Cups, The Devil, Eight of Wands

This person admires your sharp mind and wit, symbolized by the Queen of Swords. You challenge them intellectually, and they’re obsessed with how you always have the perfect comeback or insight. Temperance reveals that you have a serene balance about you—you’re the calm in their storm, a grounding presence they crave. The Three of Pentacles shows that they’re drawn to how you collaborate with others, your ambition, and your ability to inspire and lead. The Ten of Cups makes it clear that they fantasize about long-term happiness with you; you embody their dream of an ideal partner. The Devil, however, spices things up—you have a seductive side they can’t resist. It’s the way you make eye contact just a little too long, or how you subtly hint at something more, that drives them wild. The Eight of Wands speaks of your ability to make things happen quickly and passionately, leaving them breathless and wanting more.

Visionary Scenario: Imagine them meeting you at a gallery opening. You’re discussing art with effortless eloquence, your voice like velvet. They’re hooked on the way your words tease their mind while your presence tantalizes their senses. That night, as they lie awake, they’re consumed with the thought, "How can I be the one to unlock all their layers?"

[tyunized]

PDA WITH TXT~ (thoughts)

PDA - Public Display of Affection.

fem!reader

Warnings :: fluff, kissing, hugging, PDA lol, holding hands, fingering, teasing, heartwarming, needy!beomgyu perv!beomgyu (minors dni).

note :: I was giggling so much while writing this, Especially at beomgyus! Let me know if I have missed any warnings or let me know whos part did you giggle at as well hehe! 1

my rules

🌱 :: Soobin.

Soobin is unapologetically affectionate, and he doesn’t care who’s watching. Whether it’s holding your hand, wrapping an arm around your shoulder, or pulling you in for a kiss in the middle of a crowded street, he’s always showing his love for you. The side eyes and whispered comments from strangers? He doesn’t care. When someone yells, “Get a room!” Soobin just laughs, his carefree chuckle echoing loud enough for everyone to hear. Sometimes, he’ll even throw in a playful response, like, “Nah, we’re good right here!” before turning back to you with a grin.

🌱 :: Yeonjun.

You have to hold Yeonjun’s hands at all times, If not he will be afraid of losing you because he walks very fast due to his long ass legs LOL, so he doesn’t want to leave you behind. He tries, he really does, to slow his pace and match yours, glancing down every now and then to check if you’re keeping up. But he walks so fast that even his “slow” feels like a brisk walk to you. You can’t help but laugh when it starts feeling like he’s gently pulling you along.

🌱 :: Beomgyu. (nsfw)

Beomgyu thrives on PDA―not just because he loves you, but because he loves stirring up chaos. He’ll kiss you in public, and if he catches someone rolling their eyes, he’ll kiss you even more, grinning against your lips while you remain blissfully unaware of his reasoning. You don’t question it, though; you’re too busy enjoying his affection. Of course, beomgyu doesn’t stop there―he loves messing with you too. At dinner with your friends, his hand will wander beneath the table, slipping to your inner thigh, unbuttoning your pants, and teasing you in ways where it's nearly impossible to keep a straight face. He lives for the way you squirm, pretending to be annoyed while secretly loving the way his cold fingers toy with your sensitive areas. Between his “games” and your friends asking casual questions, you feel like you’re about to crash out.

🌱 :: Taehyun. (suggestive)

Taehyun doesn't mind PDA at all, he’ll hold your hand, steal a kiss, or even wrap an arm around you in public without hesitation. When you get a little too playful or lean in too close, you can see his frustration, trying to control himself because in public he knows that he has limitations. It’s humorous to you when you see this type of look on his face, but once you guys are home and in private, he has no rules, no restrictions, and no one to stop him from taking things as far as he wants. And judging by the way he pulls you closer, smirking like he's been waiting all day, you know he's ready to make up for every second he has to restrain himself.

🌱 :: Hueningkai.

This man loves to make you sit on his lap especially when seating is scarce, you sometimes hesitate out of shyness but he always insists. And when you actually give in you can feel the occasional glances people give to you both and it makes you very nervous. Hueningkai will put both his hands on your waist and tell you that it's okay and not to worry about people’s facial expressions. He also likes to rest his chin gently on your shoulder to calm you down but it makes you even more flustered than you already were lol. Feeling his breathing on your neck make you panic on the inside.

[bluebirdinhissky]

Emotional support for Chan.

Bang Chan x reader.

Bird note: Today’s Chan’s 🫧 messages made me want to hug him and just give him all the comfort he needs. MDNI!!, NSFW!!, 18+.

The world felt quieter in the safety of your bed, wrapped in the warmth of Bang Chan’s arms. The dim glow from the bedside lamp bathed his face in soft light, casting gentle shadows that accentuated the exhaustion etched into his features. He was shirtless, his bare skin radiating heat against your own, and his arms were locked tightly around you, as if afraid you’d slip away.

His head rested on your chest, rising and falling with your breathing. Every few moments, he’d tighten his hold on you, letting out deep sighs, his body tense even in your embrace. You ran your fingers through his curls, combing them back soothingly, waiting for him to speak.

“I hate people.” His voice was quiet but firm, tickling your skin.

You blinked, caught off guard by the sudden confession. “What?”

“I hate people,” he repeated, shifting slightly so his chin rested on your chest and he could look up at you. His brown eyes, usually warm, were clouded with frustration. “They’re selfish. They take and take, and they never think about how much it costs someone else.”

You knew what this was about. The endless pressure. The expectations. The criticism. The way he poured every ounce of himself into his music, into Stray Kids, into making Stay happy, only to be met with negativity sometimes. It wasn’t often that he let the weight of it show, but tonight, he wasn’t trying to hide it.

“I don’t hate everyone though” he amended, his voice softening as he nuzzled against you again. “I love SKZ. And I love Stay.” He hesitated, then, as if the words had been on the tip of his tongue for a while, he murmured, “And I love you.”

Your breath hitched. He said it so naturally, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

Your hand stilled in his hair, heart pounding. “Chan…”

He sighed, burrowing deeper against you, his arms tightening around your waist. “Don’t overthink it. I love you,” he repeated, pressing a lingering kiss to your collarbone. “You’re the only one who makes me feel like I can just… be. No pressure. No expectations. Just me.”

You swallowed, warmth spreading through your chest. “You can always just be with me.”

“I know,” he whispered. Then, as if he needed to shake off the heaviness of the moment, his lips curled into a smirk. “That’s why I need my emotional support boobs.”

You barely had time to process his words before his hands slid under your shirt, cupping your breasts with a greedy squeeze.

“Chan!” You let out a mix between a laugh and a gasp, shoving at his shoulders.

“What?” He looked up at you with faux innocence, fingers kneading shamelessly. “You don’t understand. I need them.”

“You do not.”

“I do,” he insisted, shifting so he was hovering over you slightly. “Look at me. I’m a broken man. The world is cruel, and I am but a weary traveler in need of comfort.” His grip tightened, and his lips brushed against your collarbone again. “And these” he gave another squeeze for emphasis “are the only thing keeping me sane.”

“You’re insufferable,” you muttered, though the warmth in your cheeks betrayed you.

“And you love it,” he countered smoothly. His thumbs traced slow circles against your skin, his touch lazy and indulgent. His eyes darkened slightly as he watched you, and his smirk widened. “Mmm, they’re so soft… I could fall asleep like this.”

“Chan…” You meant to sound exasperated, but his weight pressing against you, the teasing glint in his eyes, the way he was so unapologetically needy it was making it hard to think straight and instead came out as a moan.

“Hm?” He feigned innocence, tilting his head slightly. “Do you want me to stop?”

You hesitated for a fraction of a second too long. His smirk deepened.

“Thought so.” He shifted even closer, his breath warm against your skin. “I love you, you know.”

Your heart ached at the raw honesty in his voice. You cupped his face, guiding him up so you could meet his gaze properly. “I love you too.”

His eyes softened, and for a moment, he just looked at you, like he was memorizing everything about this moment. Then he let out a dramatic sigh and dropped his head back onto your chest.

“Good,” he mumbled against your skin. “Now, hold still while I get comfortable.” His hands resumed their place on your chest, squeezing lazily as he let out a contented hum.

You rolled your eyes, but you didn’t push him away. If this was what he needed to forget about the world for a little while, then you’d let him have it.

After all, who were you to deny Bang Chan his emotional support boobs?. Tonight, there was no holding back. You were right here with him, in his arms, and the world outside didn’t matter anymore.

You feel the weight of his eyes on your skin as his lips trail down your neck. His hands, warm and firm, move to cup your breasts, squeezing gently in a way that makes your pulse quicken.

His touch feels so familiar, yet it still sends a shiver down your spine, making you arch into him. You’ve always felt safe in his arms, but tonight, it’s something more. Something deeper.

“I love these,” he mutters against your skin, his lips brushing over the curve of your breast before his fingers begin to knead gently. “So soft. So perfect.”

A breath catches in your throat at his words, your body betraying you as you feel heat flood your chest. You try to look away, but there’s something in his gaze, something possessive that holds you captive.

“I’m yours, Chan,” you whisper, your voice barely audible, but he hears it. His grip tightens, and he smiles against your skin.

“You’re perfect,” he murmurs, kissing your hard nipples, sending a tremor through your entire body. His hands slide lower, tracing the waistband of your panties, and then back up again. He’s taking his time, savoring every moment, every inch of you.

“Let me have this,” he whispers against your skin, his fingers skillfully pulling your panties down while your hands find their way to his hair, fingers tugging him closer.

He brings his mouth close to your core without hesitation, he kisses you there, soft and deep, his fingers opening you as if he’s trying to taste every part of you. His other hand is pulling you even closer to him.

“I need you” His voice is rough against your wetness, his breath hot and needy. “I need you more than you could ever know.”

His words stir something deep within you, and you find yourself responding to him in ways you didn’t think possible. His fingers move inside of you, teasing, he traces your folds with a tenderness that makes your breath catch in your throat.

You can’t stop the moans that escape your lips when his tongue finds your spot, pressing soft kisses. It’s like he knows exactly how much pressure you can handle, to leave you breathless and craving more.

“You’re everything I need,” he says, his voice heavy with emotion. His fingers fuck you deeper as if to prove it. Your hands tug at his hair, making him bury his face deeper in you. You feel like you’re melting beneath him, like there’s nothing but the two of you in this space.

He takes his time, pressing gentle kisses against your spot, as if savoring every moment, every moan that escapes your lips. His other hand is reaching up to one of your breasts, squeezing, caressing your body as if he can’t get enough.

You’re losing yourself in him, in the way his skillful tongue never leaves your pussy, in the way his fingers fit so good inside of you, in the way his voice rumbles against you as he breathes your name. There’s nothing else, nothing outside of this room, nothing but him and you.

“I want you,” he growls, his voice low, full of need. And you feel it—every word, every touch. You can’t deny it anymore.

And in that moment, you realize that tonight, nothing else matters. Just him. Just you.

[runninriot]

No Universe Where Our Paths Never Crossed

written as fill for the @steddiebingo card prompt: romance

wc: 2.457 | rated: E | tags: declarations of love, fluff and smut, sexual content, established relationship | also on ao3

The room is dark apart from the faint glow of the string of fairy lights hanging above the bed frame. Covering them in a warm yellow hue just bright enough to see Steve’s soft eyes whenever their lips part for a second or two.

It’s late, already close to midnight, but sleep seems to be the last thing on either of their minds. Both too busy keeping their lips and bodies pressed together, still revelling in the afterglow of post-orgasmic bliss. Slowly sobering up, the violent rush of passionate overindulgence still buzzing in their veins.

Still caught in that in-between state of coming down from the adrenaline high and giving in to bone-deep exhaustion. That floaty-happy state of mind where the world seems to turn a little slower and time seems to almost-stop for the sake of making the moment last longer.

Eddie had never known a peace quite like this before Steve came into his life, with his unapologetic love and unwavering devotion.

He makes everything better, takes his life to a level of perfection he never thought he’d reach. Makes him feel like the luckiest man on earth, to have someone in his life who sees him for who he is and loves him not in spite but because of it.

Who isn’t afraid of all these big feelings that sometimes are too much for one heart to hold and helps him carry the weight of it all, offers his own to take half the burden. Always ready to fight for what they have and even the things yet to come, all the dreams they share and whisper about in secret when it’s just them and the night as their witness.

This is the stuff Eddie had only known from romance novels and movies, the ones he’ll deny for the rest of his life to have read and watched because he’s a tough guy.

Only Steve knows he really is not.

Because with him it’s so easy to be soft.

With Steve, being vulnerable doesn’t feel like a weakness, doesn’t feel like defeat.

With Steve, it feels good to let down his guard because he’s always there to catch him when it gets too much.

It’s like a never-ending dream, this reality he finds himself in, and he has to remind himself sometimes that this is not just a fantasy he creates in his mind. That lying next to a naked Steve is something he can just do now. That he’s allowed to drag his blunt nails over Steve’s skin just to watch him shiver. Allowed to place a kiss on every mole and scar that paints this beautiful canvas. To touch him where no one else does. To love and cherish him in all these special ways.

To indulge these sweet, gentle moments as much as the ones where their love becomes messy. When they fuck, loud and raw and unashamed. Because there is no shame in wanting each other so much. To love with their hearts and their bodies – sometimes it’s easier to show than tell because it’s impossible to put into words what he feels for the man at his side.

   “Hey Eddie?” Steve’s voice suddenly pulls him out of his thoughts.

   “Hmm?”

   “Would you still love me if-“

   “Yes!” Eddie answers immediately, doesn’t have to think about it.

   “You didn’t even let me finish.”

   “Not how I remember it but okay,” he snorts, finds himself hilarious.

   “Babe! I’m trying to be serious here.”

Steve scoots back a bit, only bringing enough distance between them so he can look Eddie in the eyes.

   “Sorry, I’m listening. Would I still love you if…”

Whatever scenario his hypothetical worm-boyfriend is thinking of, the answer will always be the same, Eddie is sure. But he waits patiently nonetheless for Steve to continue.

   “I mean- do think we would still be together if it wasn’t for the Upside Down?”

    Oh, this is not what Eddie expected at all.

   “Would you still love me, if we hadn’t met like that?”

They’ve obviously known each other from school, long before the whole Vecna disaster, but Eddie knows what Steve means. It’s hard to imagine that their paths would’ve crossed naturally if it hadn’t been for the horrors of the world almost ending. Sure, there was the possibility of them running into each other at Hellfire, thanks to the little shits‘ endearingly annoying ways of using both their older friends for rides and other conveniences.

But would they ever have taken the chance to talk, to get to know each other? Highly unlikely. Especially with all the false ideas Eddie had about Steve. All the stupid, prejudicious bullshit feeding into the illusion of unfounded, non-existent rivalry between them.

And still, considering all of that, Eddie’s answer remains unchanged.

   “Yes.”

   “You really think so?”

   “I know so.”

He does. This isn’t just him saying that to make Steve happy; he truly believes it.

   “There’s no way I wouldn’t find my way to you, Stevie. In this life or any other.”

His boyfriend looks at him with eyes so achingly soft, it makes Eddie’s heart flutter.

   “You make my life complete, baby. It wouldn’t be right without you in it. My heart wouldn’t stop searching until I found you, no matter where and how.”

   “That-” Steve rubs his eyes, not so subtly wiping away the stray tears making their way down his face, “was the cheesiest thing you’ve ever said.”

He snorts but Eddie can hear how choked-up he is, try to hide it as he might.

   “Come on, that was romantic! And I mean it, baby. There’s no version of us, in any universe, where I’m not in love with you.”

   “You’re such a sap.”

   “Well, yeah. And we both know that’s part of why you love me.”

Eddie uses the moment of surprise to roll on top of Steve, straddling his hips and pinning his wrists on either side of his head before he leans down to kiss him. Gentle at first but it soon turns into more tongue than lips, the rhythm rough and needy.

Beneath him, Steve answers with soft noises and rocking hips, chasing more of Eddie’s closeness, more of his body’s warmth, more of everything he can grasp.

   “Say it, baby. Say you love me,” Eddie demands but doesn’t give Steve the chance to comply. Keeps his words trapped where their tongues curl around each other, sharing a different kind of confession in the form of spit and breath.

   “Love you, baby,” Steve finally confirms when Eddie’s mouth wanders to the side of his neck. “In this universe and every other.”

Eddie’s lips Instinctively find the twin moles that are his favourite – because they look like they’re past-life vampire bites – and Eddie wonders amused, if maybe in another dimension, he is the one that gave them to him. If maybe there’s another timeline, where the Demobats did finish him off. Where their blood mixed with his and he came back to life – changed, but with a heart still beating for the young man in his arms – because not even death could keep them apart.

For the sake of this fantasy, he bites Steve’s throat hard enough to make him squirm and wince at the unexpected sensation of teeth pressing into sensitive skin before he kisses it better, seals the mark with a firm press of lips.

He continues his path further down Steve’s body but ignores the urge to stop and close his mouth around the pebbled flesh surrounded by a lush patch of hair, driven by the desire to offer his boyfriend another kind of sensation.

Eddie moves slow, his breath ghosting over Steve’s skin, not breaking eye contact on his way down.

   “Baby, please.”

Steve’s needy whine goes straight to his head, makes his cock ache with longing for the body that was made to fit his own.

With one hand wrapped around the base of Steve’s cock, Eddie darts his tongue out to savour the familiar taste of his boyfriend’s arousal and feels instantly high on it. Captures beads of precum on the tip of his tongue and lets it mix with his spit; lets it collect there until it starts to dribble, watching the sweet mess he’s making with greedy eyes.

Steve lets out an appreciative sigh when Eddie finally wraps his lips around him, taking him in and taking him down, sinking deeper in agonisingly slow motion.

   “Oh fuck, baby. Feels s-so good.”

One of Steve’s hands takes hold of his hair, fingers digging into tangled curls. The grip is tight but he doesn’t push or pull, just holds on to Eddie while he’s taking his time, keeps the movement of his head slow and steady, dragging the pad of his tongue up and down the pulsing vein beneath tender skin. Sucks and licks and indulges his own longing for Steve’s desperate pleas – the whimpers and moans of a man slowly losing his patience.

He'd use his fingers now to stretch and prepare Steve for more. But he’s already had his fill, has already been spread open on Eddie’s cock when he fucked him earlier, quick and hard because sometimes Steve likes it a little rough. And Eddie always gives him what he wants. Loves every version of their shared obsession for each other.

Right now, even if he doesn’t say it, Eddie knows Steve needs more than just the ardent act of two bodies consuming each other whole. Needs that gentler kind of worship, that not only goes deep but leaves a lasting impression. Something to ease his mind that too often drifts to a place of uncertainty. Where Steve worries too much about what ifs he couldn’t change either way. Rotating alternate outcomes of what they’ve gone through – What if you’d died? What if we had never met? What if the world we know didn’t exist anymore?

Eddie gets it. It’s hard sometimes to believe that the reality they’re living isn’t just some kind of fever dream. That they actually made it out alive and took the gift of second chances to steer life into a direction that seemed impossible before.

Like this, right here. Having Steve’s naked body beneath him. Getting to taste him, all of him. Getting to see him at his most vulnerable – lying in between his parted legs, letting his lips glide over burning skin, collecting his purest essence on his tongue when he lets it curl around the leaking tip of Steve’s cock and down his length. Does it again and again until Steve’s breathy moans become frustrated groans. Until the hand gripping his hair pulls hard enough to make it sting, sending a zapping pain through his scalp and down his neck. Until Steve’s thighs are shaking with unbearable pleasure – he’s close, Eddie can feel it.

But he’s determined to draw it out this time, wants Steve to fall deeper than before. Wants to tease all his worries out of him and replace them with colour and light, bathe him in a million shades of love, each representing another them in another life.

With his muscle still loose, Eddie’s fingers slip in easy – first two, then three – his spit-coated tongue making sure the glide is smooth and slick.

Steve writhes and moans, repeating Eddie’s name like a prayer, every thrust another plea, every drag of his tongue coaxing out another delirious confession.

    Only you. Always us. Forever mine. Yours, in every universe.

   “Kiss me, baby, please!”

Eddie follows the pull, lets Steve’s hand drag him up to where he’s waiting with parted lips, panting hard, eyes glazed, so beautiful it’s hard to tear his gaze away. But he relents, closes the distance between their lips and kisses him deep.

Doesn’t stop when he wraps his arms around Steve’s thighs to bend and adjust and reposition himself. Keeps kissing him when the heat of Steve’s body welcomes him in, welcomes him home. Taking his cock with little resistance, clenching around him with every deliberate drag against his inner walls that drives him closer and closer to the edge.

Eddie fucks him slow and deep with measured movements and a steady pace, no uncontrolled snapping of hips, every thrust and pull tensive and teasing – it’s torture, not to give in. Not to follow the silent request of Steve’s heels digging harshly into his back. Not to speed up and let loose, to surrender to his own body’s desperate need for relief.

   “Baby, ah! Please, I-“

Steve’s a trembling mess and Eddie feels no better off, feels the undenying pull of his building orgasm that threatens to take him out cold.

And when it does, it’s like whole galaxies collide and explode to form something new. Creating a cosmos that is made just for them. Where every particle, every atom holds a piece of their love.

Eddie comes inside Steve and Steve follows not seconds behind, makes a sweet mess where his cock is trapped between their rocking bodies. They’re both crying out the other’s names, holding on to their sweat-drenched skin with trembling hands, like it’s the only thing that keeps them from falling apart completely.

It doesn’t matter how many times they’ve done this; fucked each other into oblivion and back. Eddie will never get used to the feeling, will never stop wondering how he deserves to shine in Steve’s light when they’re burning together like falling stars on their way through the atmosphere.

How lucky he is to have found the other half of his soul in a man whose heart beats the perfect rhythm to the song that rings in every cell of his being.

Their come down outlasts the previous, makes time stretch out like thick molasses while they breathe and touch and kiss. Drifting together in the here and now of every parallel universe they exist in.

Eventually, they find their way back to themselves and each other – like they always do and always will.

   “I would love you always and everywhere,” Eddie answers Steve’s former question once more just for the sake of it.

   “In every universe,” Steve adds and affirms his words with another kiss.

That’s how they fall asleep in crumpled sheets, arms wrapped around each other tightly. No space between them for any doubts or worries to spread and stick. Just them and their love, drifting in the tranquil hours of the remaining night.

And as his minds starts to wander, Eddie dreams of fantastical worlds – of pirates and mermaids, of angels and demons, of kings and jesters, of rock stars and fame and a future with rings on their fingers – him and Steve together in all of them.

No happy ending without the man in his arms.

No universe where their paths never crossed.

[milkoomi]

₊˚⊹ ᰔ a guide to building confidence ᝰ.ᐟ

confidence doesn’t come easy when we live in a world full of standards that we feel like we have to follow and uphold. let go of those standards and focus on you and what you want for yourself.

let’s begin !!

ᝰ.ᐟ posture

your posture might be one of the first things people notice about you! so stand up straight, bring your shoulders back, and lift your head up high! having good posture isn’t just good for your back, but it’ll also make you feel more regal, classy, and come off as more confident.

people always tell me that they love how i hold myself, and part of that is thanks to my posture! i walk into any room with my head held high and standing tall because i want people to see that i hold myself to the highest standard and i want to feel that way too!

ᝰ.ᐟ maintain eye contact

this is a hard one, for me at least. it’s something i’m still practicing! but being able to maintain eye contact not only shows that you’re engaged in a conversation, but also shows that you aren’t afraid to communicate with whomever you’re speaking to!

i’m neurodivergent, so eye contact is not one of my strong suits, but what’s helped me in conversations is to look at the person who’s speaking while i listen and once it’s my turn to speak, i’ll maintain eye contact for short periods of time as i talk and then gradually continue to keep the eye contact going! it also helps if you look at one of the eyes of the person you’re speaking to and focusing on that rather than their entire face!

ᝰ.ᐟ speak up

for my soft spoken babes out there, you are allowed to get a little loud! if you’re someone who tends to hear “i’m sorry, what?” or “i can’t hear you” you gotta speak up! as someone who was told that all throughout my younger years in middle/high school, i got tired of it really quickly, so i started to raise my voice a bit whenever i spoke. now, i’m not saying you have to go out and start yelling at people, but just use a bigger voice whenever you talk!

it also helps to articulate your words more! mumbling can be a sign of anxiety or insecurity, so be clear with your words. speak with clarity!

ᝰ.ᐟ be, unapologetically, yourself

when you start doing things because you want to or because it makes you happy, you start feeling so much better about yourself. immerse yourself in things you enjoy rather than what people say you should enjoy. live for yourself, play by your own rules, and stop succumbing to what other people want from you!

get that hair cut, dye your hair that color, wear those clothes & accessories, do your makeup how you want to, get into the hobbies you’ve been dying to enjoy, listen to the music that makes you feel good! be your most authentic self!

ᝰ.ᐟ dress to impress yourself

to go off of that previous point, it’s important to wear what you feel the most comfortable in! wear what makes you feel good and makes you feel like the best version of yourself!

don’t dress for anyone else but you! you should be the only one you’re trying to impress! if you feel great in the clothes you decide to wear, then keep wearing them! find a style that you feel like you would absolutely devour in!

ᝰ.ᐟ learn to accept criticism

“but you just said-!” hold on, babe!!! i mean this in a professional sense! when it comes to your job, career, and/or your education, learn to accept that constructive criticism from your mentors/teachers/higher ups!

i used to dread being told that there was something i needed to improve on, but it turns out that that constructive criticism helped me grow in my field, in my schooling, and even as a person. learning to accept that kind of criticism will help you more than you think. it allows you to continue to grow, to see what exactly it is that still needs a little bit of work, and with that information you can hone and sharpen your skills, your knowledge, and yourself which will lead to more personal growth! and with that growth comes more achievements, and with more achievements, the more confidence you’ll have for yourself!

ᝰ.ᐟ stop the negative self-talk

if you don’t like being put down by others, why would you do that to yourself? continuously putting yourself down or talking poorly about yourself will only continue to bring down your own confidence. the insecurities will only take over even more if you keep bringing yourself down with negative self-talk.

be kind to yourself. you should love yourself as you love your friends, family, and partner(s). you deserve kindness, especially from yourself! make it a daily goal to look in the mirror and compliment yourself the way a loved one would!

𝜗𝜚 final notes 𝜗𝜚

building confidence isn’t an easy feat, a lot of this is so much easier said than done, but if you want to have personal growth you have to put in the work towards making yourself better, and make sure you’re making these changes and going through these growths for you and not anyone else. i know a lot of us want to be treated a certain way, so start with treating yourself that way!

live and love, babe.

sincerely, juno ⭑.ᐟ

[mythalism]

at this point im just ranting bc im on my period have been cooped up at home for 4 days as a result and havent taken my adderall today so theres a lot happening in my noggin

idk for some reason settling on the word "palatable" just now for solas's writing in veilguard but also the game as a whole just really struck me powerfully because i think it also really encapsulates why it pisses me the fuck off so bad on a personal level. because i literally hate shit like that LOL. growing up a girl with audhd i have spent my life being the one of LEAST palatable people in the room at all times and constantly being told i should be more palatable, dont talk so loud, dont talk so much, dont say things like that! people would like you better if you werent so harsh, you're an acquired taste, you're a tough pill to swallow. you're too political. etc etc ETC and i literally have become more palatable with age but also WITH GREAT EFFORT bc it was so clear to me my whole life that i would continue to (unintentionally) upset and make people uncomfortable with my honesty and intensity just by being myself around them. and you maybe wondering wtf this has to do with dragon age and media in general but i think its because as a result, I LOVE UN-PALATABLE THINGS!!!! BECAUSE I AM ALSO UNPALATABLE. and i think anyone who has experienced this will know what im talking about and if you dont well this post isnt for u. but i want stories to be like a punch to the fucking face. i want INTENSITY!!! i even took that quiz that went around recently and got the one that was like "you read books that challenge your worldview" YEAH!!!!! even things that i disagree with or dislike i will always respect if they pack a fucking punch.

like i hate passivity. i hate in both in people and in media. this isnt a personal drag or attack if u are the kind of person i am talking about. but see how i felt the compulsive need to disclaim that? hm. i hate it because it has never been something that came naturally to me and has always been forced upon me. i hate when people wont speak the fuck up. i hate capitulation. i hate indecisiveness. i hate when people shy away from conflict. these are all things that have repeatedly been the source of interpersonal conflict for me throughout my entire life. and like obviously im a grown adult and i have learned a LOT and am able to handle myself with sensitivity and maturity. i can recognize time and place and appropriateness and be passive and unobtrusive when necessary or when in my or someone else's best interest. i can understand and empathize with people who are the opposite of me and are passive, and avoidant, and afraid of conflict, and quiet. and i have plenty of wonderful relationships in my life and practice healthy conflict resolution regularly like fr dont worry about me. however there is always going to be a little girl inside me who resents that i will always have to tone myself down to meet the standard of easy-enough-to-swallow woman because thats what our world values rather than anyone else ever bothering to meet me at the level of intensity i naturally operate on or even just allowing me to be bonkers in peace.

and all of this absolutely manifests in what stories and art resonates with me. i prefer visual art that is bright, colorful, and intense. all of my favorite stories since i was a child and couldnt even recognize these patterns are unapologetic, emotionally powerful, and loudly political. there are a lot great shows movies games books etc. that i am sure are great and well done, but if they do not have a level of rocking my SHIT, i am simply not going to be a super fan. I LOVED DRAGON AGE FOR ROCKING MY SHIT!!!!!!!!!!!!! its probably why da2 is my favorite because it is all of these things that people have been telling me to tamp down on since i was a kid. unapologetic, intense, punch to the face, insane emotional rollercoaster. i love that it challenged the player. its probably why i love tragedy too, and the solavellan romance because its literally painful. also definitely why i love cyberpunk so much and why i fell in love with it so fast, because if there is a game that punches you in the face, its cyberpunk 2077. like johnny literally punches you in the face. anyway ive already written abt this in another post so ill move on now but WOW. PLESAE!!!!! DRAGON AGE PLEASE PUNCH ME IN THE FACE!!!! MAKE ME FEEL SOMETHING!!!! MATCH MY FREAK!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! SAY SOMETHING!!!! SAY SOMETHING SO I DONT FEEL LIKE THE ONLY PERSON OUT THERE WHOS SAYING SOMETHING!!!!!! i love seeing people be as opinionated and unapologetic as i feel even if i dont let it out. EVEN WHEN I DISAGREE!!!!!!!! this is why you dont see me arguing with posts i disagree with of rancid bad takes on this website. BC I RESPECT THAT SOMEONE HAD THE BALLS TO POST THEIR NONSENSE IN THE FIRST PLACE. UR WRONG BUT GO OFF!!!!!!! there is just something so valuable to me in seeing people express themselves and be loud and unashamed. maybe sometimes they should be ashamed but the inner child in me is happy that they are even given the space to be wrong. doesnt mean i wont disagree equally loudly on my own page, but i just HAAAAATE not speaking up. and i especially hate when being quiet and passive is portrayed as the "right" thing to do, more mature, and superior.

AND THATS VEILGUARD. literally take all of this and apply it to video game form. thats veilguard. safe, passive, palatable. we went from blowing up churches to enabling regicide to....... book club? thats a completely unfair and poor example, im aware, but this isnt a real essay its just a rant, and i know you know what i mean. and to be fair, inquisition was already step in this direction, but boy was veilguard a LEAP. olympic long-jump, even. inquisition is toned down compared to the fucking insanity of da2 and origins, but it still has moments enough to keep me feeling like it has a backbone and something to SAY, that it was brave enough to ask me to think, that it wasnt mass produced soylent green slop manufactured for easy digestion.

but veilguard is. the central message is passivity. the central message is DO. NOTHING. dont try to change things. dont speak up for what you believe in. you might mess up the world!!!!! do you understand how this is a video game manifestation of a sentiment that has smothered me my entire life. do you understand why it is so frustrating to see a series that once asked me to think for myself, to choose, to take action, to DO SOMETHING, go from asking for my opinion in judgement on a character's crimes to telling me not to think too hard at all? to go from allowing me to interrogate every character for their opinions and life story and pick their brains, to not even allowing for a real conversation? to put two choices in front of me and say PICK ONE!!!! AND LIVE WITH THE CONSEQUENCES!!!! TO PUNCH ME IN THE FACE WITH A DEVASTATING STORY THAT HAS SOMETHING TO SAY ABOUT THE WORLD?!??!?!!? EVEN IF THE STATEMENT IS SOME CANADIAN NEOLIB BULLSHIT THAT I DISAGREE WITH????? AHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

ahem. veilguard genuinely honest to fucking god encourages me as the player to do the very fucking thing that my evil elementary school music teacher wanted from me when i talked too much in class or when my mom told me people would like me more if i wasnt so "intense". shut up, do not ask questions, do not have an opinion, do not express that opinion loudly or in a way that others cannot handle, do not get too excited, dont try to change anything, do not take action, do not get angry. and join the fucking book club. or don't actually, because rook cant even do that. someone is probably going to read this and be like "wow its not that deep" and ur right its not that deep. but i am analyzing why i have such a visceral reaction to this dumbass fucking game and i have figured it out so if you dont like it you can leave. and if you love that veilguard is relaxing and chill and "COZY" that is great for you truly cheers. the world needs people that are passive and diplomatic and quiet and dont rock the boat and quiet and i am 100% dead serious. i know its gonna sound like im being a backhanded bitch because as aforementioned i have chronic bitch syndrome but i am dead serious that all of those traits ARE VALUABLE and have a place in this world and we need games that are relaxing and unobtrusive and P A L A T A B L E just like we need people that can be that way but that is not ME and that was NOT DRAGON AGE and to LOSE DRAGON AGE TO THAT PRESSURE HITS TOO CLOSE TO HOME!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! YOU TOOK MY MEAN MESSY UGLY LOUD FUCKED UP BABY AND GAVE IT A FUCKING TIK TOK FILTER AND CHANGED THE TEXT FROM "KILL" TO "UNALIVE"!!!!!!!! GIVE HER BACK!!!!!!!!!!!! GIVE HER BACK THAT MEAN MESSY UGLY LOUD FUCKED UP BABY WAS MEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE

feel free to respond in the replies if you relate or resonate with this i know this is very personal but i would love to discuss further with people if you understand what im saying . however if u are an asshole prepare to feel the full force of my wrath because as i said above i hold back a lot but i am simply not in the mood today xoxo kisses

[rylem33]

A Good Person -- Ending #6: The Bad Girl

I asked you all for ideas on endings to my story "A Good Person" and you came through. Here's the sixth one, requested by @ironpatriot2099 "could make Maggie lose all her morals turning her into the stereotypical blonde bad girl fan of leather jackets, but still loving Scott, so with his health restored she corrupts him into her perfect bad boy" Here's a link to the original story in case you need it: https://www.tumblr.com/rylem33/773678228559872000/a-good-person?source=share

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Scott’s fists clenched, his voice trembling. “What do you mean, collect?”

The Devil smirked, his dark eyes gleaming. “Oh, Scott. A deal is a deal, and Maggie… well, she didn’t quite live up to her end of the bargain.”

Maggie stepped forward, her lips curling into a nervous pout. “Wait…what’s going to happen to me? You promised Scott would be healthy, and the bills are gone!”

The Devil chuckled, his voice smooth as silk. “Oh, I always keep my promises. Scott will remain in perfect health, and your debts are wiped clean. But you broke the rules, Maggie. Now, I get to collect my price.”

Her chest tightened as she stared at him. “What does that mean? Are you going to hurt me?”

“Hurt you?” The Devil laughed, circling her like a predator savoring its prey. “No, my dear. I have something much more fitting in mind.” He raised his hand, his smile turning sharp. “You’ve already proven you’re willing to make questionable choices for what you want. Let’s make that… permanent.”

Maggie’s body trembled as heat coursed through her, reshaping her into something new. Her blonde hair brightened and lengthened, cascading down her back in wild, tousled waves. Her lips plumped, their natural pout exuding a sultry edge.

Her outfit shifted, the plain clothes she wore replaced by a bold red, cut-out bodysuit that clung to her curves. A leather jacket materialized over her shoulders, exuding confidence and rebellion. Her nails turned crimson, matching the new smoky liner that framed her piercing blue eyes.

When the transformation ended, Maggie tilted her head, running a hand through her golden locks and smirking. She exuded raw, unapologetic confidence, her demeanor radiating a bad-girl attitude that made the room feel smaller.

“Damn,” she said, her voice dripping with a teasing drawl. She turned to the Devil, her smirk widening. “You really know how to bring out the best in a girl.”

Scott staggered, his chest tightening as he stared at her. “Maggie… what happened to you?”

She turned to him, her blue eyes glinting with mischief. “Relax, Scotty,” she purred, sauntering toward him. Her heels clicked against the floor, each step purposeful and commanding. “I feel amazing. Better than I’ve ever felt before.”

“This isn’t you,” Scott stammered, backing away. 

She placed a finger on his lips, silencing him. “Shhh. Don’t overthink it, babe. You’ve been stuck playing by the rules your whole life. And for what? To end up sick and broke?” She leaned in, her voice dropping to a whisper. “You deserve better. We deserve better.”

Scott swallowed hard, his heart pounding as her words sank in. “Maggie, this isn’t…”

“This isn’t what?” she interrupted, stepping back and spreading her arms. “This isn’t us? You’re damn right it isn’t.” She smirked, shrugging off the leather jacket to reveal the daring red bodysuit underneath. “This is the new me. And if you let me, I’ll make you into someone who’s not afraid to take what he wants.”

Scott’s throat tightened. “I don’t want to lose you.”

“You won’t, babe,” Maggie said, her voice softening just slightly. She cupped his face, her touch surprisingly tender despite the edge in her demeanor. “But you’ve gotta trust me. Let me show you how much better life can be when you stop playing by everyone else’s rules.”

The Devil watched with amusement, his grin widening as Maggie leaned in, whispering something in Scott’s ear. He saw the hesitation in Scott’s eyes, the way he clung to his old sense of morality, and the way Maggie’s influence chipped away at it.

But then Maggie pulled back, turning to the Devil with a sudden intensity. Her blue eyes burned with determination, her pouty lips curling into a wicked smile.

“Wait,” she said, her voice laced with a mix of excitement and desperation. “You’re not done yet, are you?”

The Devil raised an eyebrow, his grin sharpening. “Oh? And what more could you possibly want, my dear?”

Maggie stepped forward. She was radiant, unapologetically confident, but something wild and hungry still lingered in her gaze. “You’ve made me perfect…hot, fearless, and unstoppable. But Scott?” She glanced over her shoulder at him, her smirk softening into something almost affectionate. “He’s not ready. He’s still stuck in the past, clinging to the man he used to be.”

Scott stiffened, his voice shaking. “Maggie?”

She held up a hand, silencing him as she turned back to the Devil. “If we’re going to do this, if we’re going to live the life we deserve, then he has to change too.” Her voice dropped to a sultry whisper, her lips curving into a wicked grin. “Make him my bad boy. Make him someone who can keep up with me.”

Scott’s eyes widened. “Maggie, no!”

The Devil’s laughter filled the room, rich and echoing. “Oh, Maggie,” he said, clapping his hands slowly. “You truly are a delight. And here I thought you’d cling to the remnants of the man you once loved.” His grin turned predatory. “Very well. If that’s what you want…”

“No!” Scott shouted, stepping forward, but the Devil snapped his fingers before he could say another word.

Scott cried out as a wave of energy slammed into him, forcing him to his knees. His body trembled, his hands gripping the floor as the changes began.

His broad shoulders widened further, his chest thickening with muscle. His arms grew stronger, veins snaking along his forearms as tattoos appeared, wrapping around his biceps and creeping up his neck. His jawline sharpened, his stubble darkening into a rugged beard that only added to his dangerous allure.

His clothes shifted, the simple shirt and jeans replaced by a tight black T-shirt that clung to his now-chiseled torso and a leather jacket that matched Maggie’s perfectly. His worn sneakers morphed into heavy, black boots, and a chain hung low from his belt.

When the transformation ended, Scott stood, his dark eyes blazing with intensity. He radiated power, confidence, and a raw, untamed energy that made the air around him crackle.

Maggie’s breath hitched as she took him in, her glossy lips parting in a pleased smile. “Now that’s what I’m talking about,” she purred, stepping closer and trailing her fingers along the leather of his jacket. “You look perfect, babe.”

Scott’s gaze locked onto hers, his lips curling into a devilish smirk. “I feel… incredible,” he said, his voice deeper, rougher.

The Devil clapped his hands, his grin wide and satisfied. “Oh, you two will be magnificent together. A pair of untouchable rebels, burning brighter and faster than anyone else.”

Maggie laughed, slipping her arm around Scott’s waist. “Damn right we will.” She tilted her head, her blue eyes gleaming as she looked up at him. “What do you say, Scotty? Ready to take on the world?”

He smirked, leaning down to press a rough, passionate kiss to her lips. “With you? Always.”

The Devil chuckled, stepping back toward the shadows. “Ah, love. So malleable, so easily twisted. You’ll burn bright… and burn out. Just as you should.”

Maggie glanced at him, her smirk unwavering. “We’ll see about that,” she said with a wink.

She grabbed Scott’s hand, pulling him toward the door. As they walked out together, their matching leather jackets gleaming under the light, the Devil’s laughter echoed behind them.

[in-your-heart-shall-burn]

Veilguard Character Appreciation: Taash

As mentioned on my Emmrich post, this is a very self indulgent post for me to ramble about things that I appreciated about the companion characters in Veilguard. I'm planning to post one per character, loosely following the order of the Veilguard Appreciation Week prompts! Please feel free to reply or reblog with your own thoughts if you are so inclined c:

So, Taash. This is going to start to look like a theme, but they're another character I didn't really necessarily have any thoughts on pre-release, much like Emmrich. I didn't listen to Vows & Vengeance, and they didn't quite hook me immediately in any of the trailers or pre-release information like some other characters did.

But, to be completely honest, the first time I met Taash, I couldn't stop grinning during their introductory quest. They're just such a fun character from the moment you meet them, in a very similar way to how I felt about Sera - a character who is unapologetically themself and they're not afraid to tell you. It was immediately obvious from how they were written that they're meant to be young, but still an expert in their field, and I felt like that shone through from the moment I met them.

Yeah, they're a little awkward. Yeah, they're brash. Those are things I like about them, and rather than evidence of them being poorly written, I think it shows a particularly impressive level of skill to be able to write a character who embodies their intended traits so well. They have such a distinct speaking style, and no filter at all.

I've met a lot of people in real life who are very similar to Taash (other than obviously not being dragon hunters, haha), and so it was a joy to see such character traits reflected.

And what really surprised me was how much my Lords of Fortune Rook almost immediately felt like an older sibling type figure for them. Taash's conversations and quests were one of the main ways I solidified more details of Ramona, because I was able to relate her experiences with Taash's. It lead to them being one of the mainstays in my party, which was absolutely not my expectation at the start. They could both talk about identifying with Rivaini culture but not quite fitting in, about mothers who thought they knew what was best for them.

Now - I don't really want to comment much on the cultural context of them and their quests, or the gender stuff as much - I don't really have deep personal experience with those things.

Though - I will say, the line of "Nobody *wants* to be a woman." did hit me like a truck. My Rook was a cis woman at the time, and it really did feel like everything slid into place at that moment in my head and her's. It's just so raw, and really indicative of the kind of the thing I mean when I talk about Taash's character being immature and that being the *point*. Because yeah, they're a young person trying to find themself after spending most of their time with their overbearing mother their whole life.

Their whole relationship with their mother is another thing. I was really hoping they wouldn't kill Shathann off, even though I could see it coming - not because I think it's bad writing or too obvious, but because I can relate to that feeling, of losing someone and being faced with not just the fact that you'll never see them again - but that you'll never be able to resolve things between you two. They'll never get to see who you become. It's utterly devastating. And the way that Taash responds to it is so well done, as heart breaking as it is. Writing grief is so hard because it doesn't look the same on anyone, but Taash's reactions definitely echo uncomfortably close to real things I've seen and experienced.

And playing my second character, who's both a Qunari (disconnected from his culture, since he's a Mourn Watcher), who's also non-binary - it was really interesting to see how their relationship takes on a different level with that similarity, and how much you can have your Rook talk about it. It's such a personal journey, but there was something so amazing to me about the fact that you *could* make a character that could relate to Taash directly in the game about their gender, when every other game in the series (and every other AAA game I'm aware of in the genre) relegates it to headcanon and (often unfortunately janky) mods.

Anyways - I just really appreciate Taash as a character. They're so raw and realistically young, and while they sometimes may seem awkward or immature, but that's because they *are* awkward and immature. They're such a fully realized character in a really beautiful way, in my opinion.

[venusgirltarot]

What Is Blocking You From Personal Growth?

Disclaimer: This reading is for entertainment purposes only. Tarot readings are about possibilities based on your current energy. Energy is forever changing and nothing is set in stone. Always remember, you have your own free will to make whatever decision you feel is best.

If you would like a personal reading from me, you can get one here! (Today is the last day to order a personal reading before they close!)

Photos used in this reading are not mine :)

Pile One ┊ ༑ ࿐ྂ。

Pile one, I think your lack of boundaries with those around you is what’s blocking you from personal growth. For some of you, this could be an ex and others this might be family, possibly an aunt, mother, or sister. For some, it’s all of the above. This may be you helping those around you out financially and it could also be people around you draining your energy. For a lot of you, it’s both. You’re filling other people’s cups until yours is completely empty and it’s leaving you drained and exhausted. You need to take a step back and reevaluate. Some of you may have cut off or blocked out someone in your life who tried to show you this and tell you what I’m telling you now. Only take that if it resonates. Please know that you don’t owe anyone anything and if someone is meant to be in your life, you won’t have to force it or give away any part of yourself in order to make them stay there. Pay attention to the way you feel after talking to or spending time with people. Notice how your energy changes and what makes you feel drained and what makes you feel fulfilled. Go after what makes you feel fulfilled and do it unapologetically. I heard “you deserve more” your guides really want you to release these people and have more for yourself. I heard “stop giving your all to them”.

Some of you could be lawyers or just have some sort of career that you had to get a degree for or you’re working on your degree right now and you might be the first of your family members to go to college/university. I heard “notice that accomplishment” and “be proud of that” for some reason, I’m getting the vibe that these people in your life may use that against you? I’m not sure how they do it but maybe they credit themselves for you being able to go to school? Like if this is a parent they may think them pushing you the way they did is what got you to follow this path so therefore you wouldn’t have achieved this accomplishment if it weren’t for them. I hope that makes sense. My point is, that’s not true and you are where you are because you got yourself there and you owe nothing to people who are not deserving of your time/energy. If no one has told you today, Pile One, please know that I am proud of you and all your accomplishments and know that you do not owe anyone anything. What you have is yours and only yours, don’t let those who are undeserving try and take that away from you. Also, don’t be afraid to reach out to any connections you’ve lost due to your loyalty tho those around you who may have not been very deserving of that loyalty.

Pile Two ┊ ༑ ࿐ྂ。

What’s blocking you from personal growth is comparison. When I was shuffling, I heard “Lacy” by Olivia Rodrigo and “Jealousy, Jealousy” also by Olivia Rodrigo. Pile Two, you may have struggled with insecurities and comparison from a very young age. This may be an awful habit that you’ve carried with you into adulthood. It could have started with an older sibling. Some of you may have a much older sibling, possibly one that was a teenager when you were a child. Idolizing and looking up to this older sibling may have quickly become a way of unhealthy comparison for you. You may have found your identity in this comparison and soon went on to look for yourself by comparing yourself to others throughout childhood and now as an adult.

You’ve completely changed yourself in order to “fit” into a certain type or in order to become a certain person but you’re chasing an ideal and beauty standard that simply doesn’t exist. You’re just in a never ending battle with yourself that will only end in exhaustion. You also may have spent a lot of money or clothing, products, cosmetic procedures for some of you. Some of you may have even gone into debt or gone through a lot of credit cards (that specific message may not resonate, only take it if it resonates for you).

Sitting here and telling you to just stop would be useless and not very helpful, especially considering this seems to be something you’ve done your whole life. I think it is best for you moving forward to maybe look into therapy and start taking apart this idea and image that you have of yourself and really getting to the root of the problem. This is a mindset that you’ve really built into yourself and it won’t disappear over night but you can overcome this with the necessary time, dedication, and professional help.

I don’t think you realize how beautiful of a person you are, Pile Two. You are someone worth getting to know. Not only by others but by yourself, as well. Take the time to get to know you, I promise it will be worth while. Inside and out, you’re a beautiful person and there’s no need to compare yourself to those around you. You may even seek out friends that represent what and who you want to be as a person so you can sort of take bits and pieces of their personality and make them apart of yourself if that makes sense. What you don’t realize is how much those around you look up to and admire you, the real you and not the you that you have created and try to portray. They see the value in you that you’re ignoring and love you for who you truly are and you should really try to do the same, Pile Two. Pulling cards and spending a little time in your energy, I can safely and surely say that you are an outstanding human being, Pile Two, and I hope you see that in yourself some day.

Pile Three ┊ ༑ ࿐ྂ。

Fear is what is holding you back from your own personal growth, Pile Three. You seem to break your own heart before anyone else gets the chance to and hide behind walls that you’ve built for yourself. You may look for the flaws in people very early on in knowing them as almost an excuse to turn in the other direction and run and it’s really just a way to get out before you end up being the one to get hurt but in reality, you end up hurting others with good intentions by doing this.

You may currently have some sort of loge connection/relationship that you’re really fighting. You want this but because of your past and mistrust for people, you’re looking for warning signs and any reason to run away as far and as fast as possible but this person isn’t giving you anyway so you may be sort of giving them yourself by overthinking every situation, just to try to create red flags and get out. You’re denying yourself something you really want because you’re afraid of what it could be and considering all you’ve been through, that’s understandable. But what if this could work out? What if it could be greater than you ever imagined? What if it could be the best decision you’ve made in a long time? You’ll never find the answer to these questions if you run away from something that you have no reason to run from.

You’re a bit of your own worst enemy, Pile Three. I won’t give you some bs love reading and tell you something about how this person is your soulmate and you’ve found the one, partly because I don’t believe in going about readings that way and it’s just not the vibe I’m getting but also partly because I think you’d panic and immediately click off this reading if I said that 😭 but I will say that I think sticking around and seeing where this goes is a good idea. No need for rushing, labels, etc. but it’s okay to stay where awhile and see where it takes you. Let go of fear just this one time and find out that you had nothing to worry about in the first place. You don’t have to lose yourself in this, your identity won’t be stripped away from you and you don’t have to morph yourself into this person for them to love you, just give it a chance and see where it goes.

Some sort of semi-serious (I’m saying semi-serious because I don’t want to scare you. I don’t think it’s anything crazy) conversion might he in the horizon with this person. Again, nothing crazy. There may just be some romantic tension between the two of you that needs to be addressed. This seems light hearted and like this person wants a better feel/idea of where you stand. It’s okay to tell them you don’t want labels and you want to see where this goes. Just be honest with your feelings and where you stand. Your person might be under the influence when having this conversation as well. Maybe they reach out when they’re a little tipsy and have some liquid courage in them. Again, don’t be afraid. This is the natural next step in this connection but is in no way meant to rush or push things ahead.

Breathe, Pile Three. You’re okay, you’re doing to be okay. You are safe and so is this connection. Be open to the idea of this connection but don’t give more of yourself than you are ready to in this moment and be honest with this person and where you stand/how you feel. Your intuition has been telling you that everything is okay and I think you’ve been ignoring it. Follow your intuition, trust it. It will never guide you wrong.

[viviennemaeve]

Alter Ego's and Second selves-

Alter Egos Embracing the Versions of Ourselves That We Haven’t Met Yet

Have you ever stared at yourself in the mirror and wondered, Who else could I be? Not in a regretful or unsatisfied way, but in a dreamy, what-if-I-could way? That’s where alter egos and aspirations come into play—the untapped versions of ourselves that live in our heads, waiting for their turn on stage.

Let’s get one thing straight: alter egos aren’t just for superheroes or pop stars (though, shoutout to Beyoncé) They’re for anyone who dares to think, What if? What if I were bolder? What if I were softer? What if I stopped apologizing for existing or chasing approval like it’s oxygen? Alter egos are like a mental Pinterest board of who you could be if you allowed yourself to dream without limits.

The Beauty of an Alter Ego:

An alter ego isn’t about being fake or pretending. It’s about unlocking a part of yourself that feels just out of reach. Maybe in your day-to-day life, you’re shy and careful, but in your head, there’s a version of you who commands rooms, speaks their mind, and leaves a trail of awe behind them. That’s your alter ego whispering, You could be me if you tried.

Think of them as your personal blueprint for growth, not an impossible standard. They’re the person you’d be if fear didn’t exist, if failure didn’t sting, if your past didn’t weigh you down like an anchor. Like for me it's Vivienne Maeve..

For many might've thought that it is my real name but no Vivienne Maeve is my alterego. Someone who i embody,someone who isn't afraid to stand tall, someone who knows their own worth.

Aspirations

The Bridge Between You and Them

Aspirations are the breadcrumbs that lead you from who you are now to who you want to be. They’re the daydreams you can’t shake, the goals that feel a little too big, and the moments when you think, Why not me? Aspirations and alter egos go hand in hand—they’re both fueled by a belief that you’re not finished yet.

But here’s the catch: you can’t just live in the fantasy of your alter ego. At some point, you have to build the bridge. You have to take the risks, face the rejections, and rewrite the narratives that say you can’t.

When the Lines Blur

Here’s the best part: the more you lean into your alter ego, the more they stop feeling like someone else and start feeling like…you. That bold, unapologetic version of yourself? They’re just you without the doubt. That kind, forgiving version? They’re you without the baggage. Alter egos aren’t some magical transformation; they’re already you—just amplified, refined, and unafraid.

Let’s Get Real for a Second

Not every day will feel like a leap toward your dreams. Some days, even imagining your alter ego feels exhausting, like trying to envision the sun on a stormy day. And that’s okay. Growth isn’t linear, and aspirations don’t come with a deadline.

But here’s the thing: the more you show up, even in the smallest ways, the more you blur the line between who you are and who you want to be. One day, you’ll look back and realize you didn’t just meet your alter ego—you became them.

So, to anyone out there dreaming of their “better” self, here’s your reminder: that version of you already exists. They’re just waiting for you to believe in them.

[nalyra-dreaming]

I think Louis really needs a partner with whom he is free to be ULTRA NEGATIVE about everything and still have that person maintain unapologetic energy and positivity. It's important to Louis to relentlessly negate even the hint of a ray of sunshine threatening to radiate through his cloud cover, while his partner will continue to push through. Louis does want to be in situations, but at his core he is afraid of allowing himself to relax or feel like he belongs because rejection or judgement might lurk just around the corner. But if he can resist enough to make it appear like he's only ever "forced" into fun things, like balls and outings and feeding like the monster vampire he is, then he always has the safe the cop-out of saying "you made me do this, I didn't want to do this." That way, if anything bad that happens is someone else's responsibility, and in the event he ends up actually having fun, Louis doesn't feel guilty or silly. Now, Armand just doesn't have the energy to be continuously positive enough to counter all that. Lestat is a Duracell bunny, that's why Loustat works out better. It's not that one is a better pairing than the other, just that Armand would burn out if it lastet a full century.

Well... I mean, the thing is Louis and Loustat match each other's freak. They are two sides of the same coin, within the chronicles Lestat's "light" pierces through the doom, through the resistance that Louis might put up :)

I mean, you're not wrong, but I personally love that Louis will come into his own. And I don't think he will be afraid to get into situations as you put it, at least not for very much longer :) (on the show).

Lestat loves Louis' "gentlemanly malice" though :), and so that sharpness that Louis might employ to uphold the shield will be very much appreciated, and I do hope we get to see that on the show, the sparring, the (loving) bitching, for lack of a better word. :)

Armand... is not positive. He's too jaded. He needs someone who will match his freak, and luckily for him... that will be/is Daniel :)))

[visualtaehyun]

Hi my dear fellow Zonzon (I suppose?) I wanted to ask what do you like about them or Zee and Nguyen separately? Thank you 🫶🏻

Hi there fellow zonzon 🥰

Thank you for asking such a cute fun question~ I don't even know where to begin tbh! Let's start with Nong New, I guess, since I consider myself primarily a nananu :)

What do I like about NuNew?

🐱 He's just the cutest person on earth to me, like, I adore him. He's so cat-like in his mannerisms and personality - not even just in a generally adorable way but also in how cutely he whines when he gets teased (he's so very teasable hehe), how sassy he can get, and how he can be playfully defiant like a proud kitty cat.

🐱 He's my favorite singer. His voice has this really pretty, melodic, soft quality to it. He never stops learning and trying to improve and omg he's improved so much over the years! Not even just as a singer but as a performer and dancer as well. I love that he can become a totally different person once he's performing, showing his confident, sassy, sensual sides, when in real life he still gets shy pretty easily. 🤏

🐱 He's really lovely, polite, and well-mannered, no matter who he meets or works with. I always love seeing his interactions with other artists and when people in the industry compliment him for his manners, work ethic, and personality. Wherever I look, there's always someone commenting 'he's so lovely, who wouldn't love him?' which is exactly what I think as well.

🐱 He's a linguist and loves languages, same as me! P'Zee has brought it up a few times that New is very particular about getting the pronunciation right whenever he sings songs in different languages and that he always tries to teach P'Zee, too. Whenever they have fanmeets or concerts outside of Thailand, I always notice New picking up vocabulary from the audience or the interpeter and using it right then and there. P'Den, the acting coach for The Next Prince, praised him on twt for his English pronunciation as Khanin. He's always caught up on the newest viral slang (to my utter delight as a learner of Thai hehe)! Or just recently, when he was a guest at Paul Kim's concert in Bangkok and cutely introduced himself to the audience in Korean, only for Paul Kim to tell him 'Nunew, they're all Thai!' 😂 I could talk about him all day so I'm gonna stop here sklskslkds

What do I like about Zee?

🐶 He's such a dork and I mean that in the absolute most loving way possible! He's playful, he's funny, he's not afraid to commit to the bit (though he may regret it right after xD), he's clumsy (very relatable to me personally lmao), he's always referencing old songs - and it's hilarious seeing New's reaction cause 9 out of 10 times, New doesn't know them because he wasn't born or old enough at the time they originated lol - and even at his own fanmeeting, it took him like 4 or 5 tries just for the introduction 😂

🐶 He's earnest, attentive, sweet, and thoughtful. :) He remembers his fans even from small interactions or gifts, he's always looking out for other people's comfort and safety, New is on record saying P'Zee's really romantic, and his every interaction with dogs and children (especially his niblings) is lovely to watch. He just exudes warmth and care. <3

🐶 He may still get self-conscious about his singing (and has said before that he only grew to enjoy it because he's been performing so much with New) but I love his singing, especially for ballads and heartache-y love songs. Not even just his singing has improved but also his dancing - I remember him looking pretty stiff in the hips (shoutout to the #1 Zee-swinging-his-hips lover @zimmbzon :P) but these days he's fire and can really hold his own as a performer! I would be remiss, of course, if I didn't at least mention his acting chops so +1 (+💯, really!) for actor Zee Pruk 🙂‍↕️

🐶 He always emphasizes the importance of being yourself, unapologetically, and doing what you love. He likes to say that he's just a guy, just a person like everyone else. His humility and maturity and the way he always seems to look at life with an open mind are a big source of inspiration and encouragement to me - to be kind to myself, to take good care of myself and my loved ones, to try my best without beating myself up over failure or rejection. I always hope he knows how loved he is and how much he empowers his fans, just by being himself and uplifting other people. ...aaand now I made myself cry because I can't contain how much I admire and appreciate P'Zee

What do I like about ZeeNuNew?

I love them individually so of course I also love them together. I'm not sure where to start or what even to bring up? I've been following them for ~2½ years so their rapport, their mannerisms with each other, their little habits - so much of it is feels like a constant but so much of it has also changed and grown over the years, same as they have grown as people, artists, and actors.

I love how playful they always are with each other, how much they live to tease each other, how they've never really fought seriously but will absolutely play-fight just for the fun of it. P'Zee also likes to say, for example, that he's absorbed New's cuteness and brightness. :)

Their chemistry is so palpable, no matter if they're performing on stage, acting opposite each other, or posing for a photoshoot together. They have this ability? habit? (I guess it depends on the situation, what you might call it lol) of tuning out the world around them, creating a little bubble for themselves. When they do it unintentionally, it can be a bit funny for the people around them but adorable nonetheless. But when they tap into that when they're acting or performing? The ability to let someone else in, open oneself up to a scene or dance partner, and stay fully focused on them and immersed throughout the performance, that's where the magic happens!

I love how lovely they are with and to each other. I appreciate every little glimpse at them cuddling behind the scenes. I notice the little changes in how they speak to each other (be it early-on, when New still called himself ผม /pom/ vs. when he slowly started calling himself หนู /nhu/ with P'Zee, or within the last year, for example, when we kept hearing them start to use คะ/ค่ะ /kha/ more and more often with each other). Their level of trust for and in each other is so clear to see, their bond is solid as a rock, they care so much about each other's happiness!

Them and us, we all like to joke about พฤกษ์ลิขิต /Pruk li-khit/ = Prukstiny, and sometimes it really does feel like they were destined to meet. How lucky they found each other, how lucky they have each other.

Thank you again for this lovely ask, anon 💕 I feel like I only really scratched the surface and probably forgot to bring up a lot of things but if any other zonzons, nananus, and zunshines want to add on or maybe even make this a tag game, then you're more than welcome to do so! :>

[swaps55]

I lost my friend to cancer yesterday.

I’d really like to tell you about her.

We meet people throughout our lives who change it, in big ways and small ways, and ways we will never forget. Sara/ @dearophelia was one of those people for me.

I met her here, on tumblr, about 10 years ago. I wish I could remember what piece of writing I stumbled onto first, but she was such a gifted writer that I immediately wanted to see more. I somehow wound up following her live blog of a road trip, which was full of uproariously snarky jokes about Ohio. I had the courage to reach out and tell her how funny I thought she was, and how great her username was to this fellow Mass Effect fan who lived right down the road in Kentucky and got all the Ohio jokes.

We talked. We chatted. I introduced her to a group of people I played Mass Effect 3’s multiplayer with. She grew from a level one first-timer to a total badass who could carry a team and taught other people how to do the same thing.

And then my life fell apart.

Everything fell apart for me. Turning to my family wound up being a catastrophe, and I didn’t have local “real world” friends I could turn to.

So I texted Sara. Told her I needed somewhere to go, and asked if I could stay with her that weekend.

She texted back, “Yes.” Sent me her address, and said to ping me when I got there. She didn’t hesitate. She didn’t ask why. She just gave me shelter. So I showed up on her doorstep, and she listened while I told her everything. She didn’t judge me. She didn’t think I was insane. She had every right to think both things. Instead, she gave me safe harbor at a time when I had no control over my life and didn’t know what was going to happen to me.

For the next several months, I made frequent trips up I-75 to Ohio. She kept an air mattress out for me. We played multiplayer. We talked about Mass Effect. We talked about life. We bitched about all the people who hated on one of our favorite characters. She introduced me to Babylon 5. I have so many memories of sitting on the couch in her apartment, with her cat Odo crawling around behind my head. When I eventually pieced myself together enough to leave Kentucky and start the work of starting over, it meant leaving behind that sanctuary with her in her apartment, and it was something I had to grieve along with everything else.

And now I am grieving it again, and so much more. I am so lucky I was able to fly back to Ohio a few weeks ago while I had the chance. Hugging someone goodbye, knowing it’s the last hug you’re going to get….well, it sucks.

But I got that hug.

Sara was so many things. She was a gifted storyteller with entire worlds in her head. One of the weekends I stayed with her, she had recreated the Mass Effect galaxy map on her wall with notecards and string to help her tell a story. She could create a character and make you fall in love with them in a matter of sentences. Because of her stories, I binge watched all ten seasons of Stargate SG-1.

She was also not afraid to unapologetically be herself. I had a lot of things to learn and unlearn about the world, feminism, gender, and sexuality, especially in those days. Listening to her fight for her space in the world and refuse to be told she was anything less than who she wanted to be helped me learn some of the things I needed to learn, and embrace the things I discovered about myself.   

She loved music. She made the best fucking playlists. She taped inspirational notes around her condo. She sent me a set of coasters that say, “Fuck It,” and “Nah,” and I use them every single day. Her smile was gorgeous. She lit up a room.  

And now she’s gone. I won’t see her in my tumblr notes anymore. I won’t see her on my dash. I won’t get pinged with new Odo photos. She won’t get to hear the new music I listen to that shows up in our Spotify blend. I won’t get to talk about the next Mass Effect game with her. I won’t get any more Ao3 updates in my inbox.

I wanted you to know about her – this pocket friend of mine who impacted my life in ways that I won’t ever forget.

I hope you will read her stories. Listen to her playlists. She was a brilliant human being. She should still be here. She isn’t.

And I miss her.  

[mintyys-blog]

I loved your red flag reader and your answers to asks about her. You mentioned that part of why you liked writing an unapologetically flawed reader is how it involves the character's struggle for growth and the drama that comes with it (paraphrased lmao). If you don't mind answering, what do you think of Rex's character development from being a scumbag cheater to a more considerate guy who earnestly tried to improve himself post-lobotomy? Do you buy it? Does it align with how you'd write character that would go through the same journey sans headshot?

I hope you dont mind me picking your brain for a bit!

Much love!

I really loved Rex’s character development too. The fact that he didn’t become a perfect person overnight made it feel more believable—those moments where he almost slips back into old habits but catches himself? That’s the good stuff. That’s growth. It felt like he was genuinely trying, even if he stumbled here and there, and that’s so much more compelling than a character who just suddenly changes without struggle.

Also, relationship with Shrinking Ray was such a great touch! He was still rough around the edges, but it showed that he was capable of building something healthier, and that he wanted to. That kind of flawed-to-better arc is exactly the kind of thing I love writing. Give me the mess, the mistakes, the gradual shift—it makes the payoff so much sweeter.

His death hit so hard—and what made it worse was knowing it didn’t have to happen. It was one of those moments where everything felt so unfair, especially because Rex had actually grown, had proven he could be more than just the reckless asshole he used to be. He was finally stepping up, and then bam—taken out just like that.

Like, I get it, Mark was with Eve and everything was falling apart, but a part of me can’t stop thinking that if he had stepped in sooner, Rex might’ve lived. It added another layer of frustration to everything else going on, and it made the whole scene feel that much more tragic. Rex earned a better ending than that.

Another character with development is Amber. She’s one of those characters that evokes a lot of mixed feelings, especially because of how her arc was handled in season 1 versus later on.

In season 1, it really felt like the show wanted us to love her—she’s smart, confident, does community work, stands up for herself—but ironically, that almost worked against her. They gave her all these “perfect girlfriend” traits without really giving her depth, and it made her frustration with Mark feel a bit hollow or even confusing at times. If she knew Mark was Invincible, why was she still mad when he disappeared during literal world-ending battles? Her logic didn’t always add up, and that inconsistency made people turn on her, even though she had every right to be upset about being lied to.

But Mark’s side wasn’t easy either. He was barely figuring things out as a new hero while trying to keep his loved ones safe. It’s a classic superhero dilemma—how do you protect someone you love when the truth could make them a target? So while he was neglectful, it wasn’t out of malice. It was fear, confusion, and immaturity. But I think this was to remind us that this is his first real relationship, and he is a 18-17 in this, so he is learning and same with Amber. They are both struggling to find what they want and who they are.

Season 2 and 3, though? That’s where Amber shines. She finally gets space to be more than just “the girlfriend.” Her doubts, her fear, the fact that she knows she could die and has nothing to fall back on in this superpowered chaos—it felt real. It showed how terrifying it would be to date someone like Mark. And when she finally expressed that she wasn’t sure she could handle it? That was such a human, grounded moment. The writing let her be flawed, afraid, and honest—which made her relatable, not annoying.

And that’s the beautiful part: we needed that development. We needed Amber to not just be “supportive, fierce girlfriend” but a person with her own limits, fears, and identity. I wish season 1 had planted those seeds more clearly, especially with her picking up on Mark’s secret earlier. It would’ve made her frustrations land better instead of feeling like sudden emotional whiplash.

But the payoff in the later seasons? So worth it. Amber’s not perfect, and that’s what makes her a better character. Just like the rest of the cast, she needed time—and I’m glad the show gave it to her.