#real or not it's something that's special

[asterafroditis]

𐔌 . ⋮ white day ♥︎ .ᐟ ֹ ₊ ꒱

☓┆Third Years x gn! reader

𓏵 1161 words

ᝰ.ᐟ headcanons, no pronouns, fluff

First Years are done! Second Years are done, too! feel free to like, reblog, or comment!

ᝰ.ᐟ masterlist

“Woah, no way—seriously?!” Cater exclaims, eyes lighting up as you hand him the neatly wrapped gift.

He turns the box over in his hands, snapping a quick photo before even opening it. “#WhiteDayWin! Look at this—perfectly wrapped and everything. You’ve got a real aesthetic eye, y’know?”

But when he actually opens the gift, his teasing falters for just a second. His smile softens, and his fingers tighten around the box.

“Aw, you really went all out for me, huh?” His voice drops just a bit, no filters, no exaggeration—just genuine warmth.

He quickly shakes off the moment, flashing you a playful grin. “Guess I’ll have to step up my game next year~ Can’t be outdone, right?”

Still, you notice him glancing at your gift more than once, a small, real smile tugging at his lips when he thinks no one’s looking.

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“Oh? What’s this?” Trey’s brows lift as you place a small box in his hands.

When you explain that it’s a White Day gift in return for his Valentine’s one, he chuckles, shaking his head. “You didn’t have to do that. Really, I was just happy to make something for you.”

But despite his words, he’s careful when he opens the box, almost like he’s savoring the moment. His expression softens as he takes in the contents, eyes lingering on the details.

“…You really put thought into this.” There’s something deeply appreciative in his voice, something steady and warm. “Thanks, I’ll make sure to take good care of it.”

He smiles at you, gentle and sincere. “Guess I’ll have to bake you something extra special next time, huh?”

And true to his word, the next time you visit Heartslabyul, there’s a fresh batch of sweets waiting just for you.

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“Tch. What’s this?” Leona eyes the gift you hold out, lips pulling into a smirk. “You think I need some kinda thank-you?”

He leans back lazily, but there’s a flicker of interest in his eyes as he reaches for the box. His movements are slow, deliberate, like he’s making sure you know he’s choosing to accept it, not because he cares.

(But he does care. A little too much.)

He opens it with one hand, the other propping up his head. His eyes flicker over the gift, and for a moment, his usual cocky expression softens into something unreadable.

“…Hmph.” He clicks his tongue, setting the box aside with feigned nonchalance. “You’re somethin’ else, herbivore. Wasting time on me like this.”

But later, you catch him looking at the gift again—thumb running idly over its surface, tail flicking lazily behind him.

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A single elegant brow lifts as you present the gift. “Oh? A White Day present? How thoughtful.”

Vil takes the box delicately, inspecting the wrapping with a keen eye. “A good presentation is just as important as the gift itself,” he muses, but when he actually opens it, the comment dies on his lips.

His fingers brush over the gift, his gaze unreadable. Then, slowly, a small, approving smile tugs at his lips.

“This… is quite tasteful,” he finally says, his voice softer than usual. He glances at you, something warm and unreadable in his violet eyes.

“You have good instincts. Perhaps I should bring you along next time I go shopping.”

Vil may not say it outright, but you can tell—he’s genuinely pleased. The next time you see him, he’s wearing or using your gift, as if it had always belonged to him.

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“Ah! What a delightful surprise!” Rook gasps dramatically, pressing a hand to his chest. “Mon cher, you continue to amaze me~”

He takes the gift with a flourish, twirling it in his hands as he admires the craftsmanship. “To think that you would bestow upon me a token of your appreciation! Ah, the beauty of human connection!”

When he opens it, his emerald eyes gleam with excitement. “Exquisite! You have chosen with such care, such precision! It is as if you peered into my very soul to divine what would please me most!”

He holds the gift close, smiling warmly. “Truly, this is a treasure. And so are you, my dear trickster.”

Later, you find him showing off your gift to others, boasting about how “magnifique” your sense of taste is.

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Idia freezes when you hand him the gift. His hair flares slightly at the edges.

“Wha—huh? For me?” His voice cracks slightly, and he pulls his hoodie strings tighter. “N-No way, you’re actually returning the favor?”

His fingers twitch as he takes the box, staring at it like it might explode. He mutters something about “NPCs in dating sims never doing this,” but his curiosity gets the better of him, and he peeks inside.

His breath catches.

For a second, he just stares at the gift, expression unreadable. Then, ever so slightly, his lips twitch into the smallest, most genuine of smiles.

“…T-Thanks,” he murmurs, barely above a whisper. His face is burning, but there’s a softness in his eyes. “Guess I gotta, um… get you something next year, huh?”

He tries to act casual, but you later find the gift displayed in his room, perfectly preserved like a prized collectible figure.

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Malleus’s eyes widen ever so slightly when you present the gift. “A gift… for me?”

His fingers brush over the wrapping, handling it with a careful reverence. “I see. This is in response to my offering on Valentine’s Day.”

There’s something almost wistful in his expression as he unwraps the gift, as if savoring the moment. When he sees what’s inside, his lips curve into a small, pleased smile.

“You are quite considerate,” he murmurs, his glowing eyes meeting yours. “It is a rare thing for one to present me with such a sincere offering.”

He chuckles softly. “I shall treasure this.”

True to his word, the next time you visit Diasomnia, you see your gift carefully placed among his most valued belongings.

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“Oh ho! What’s this?” Lilia grins as you hand him the box, his crimson eyes gleaming with mischief.

When you explain that it’s for White Day, he lets out a chuckle. “How sweet! You’re quite the thoughtful one, aren’t you?”

He opens the box with theatrical flair, but the moment he sees what’s inside, his expression shifts—just a little. His usual playful air softens, something warmer lurking beneath.

“My, my… You really put effort into this, didn’t you?” His voice is quieter now, almost fond. “How wonderful.”

He pats your head (whether you like it or not). “I’ll cherish it. And perhaps, next year, I’ll have to surprise you with something even grander!”

Despite his usual antics, you notice him holding onto your gift with care—tucking it safely away, as if it’s something precious.

[duyuforu]

Pick-a-Card: How will Venus Retrograde Season go for You?

©duyuforu All Rights Reserved; Do not copy work.

pile 1 -> pile 2 -> pile 3; pick a Heart and scroll down to read your reading.

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Venus Retrograde goes from March 1st to April 13-14th 2025.

₊˚⊹♡ - Pile 1 - ₊˚⊹♡

Don't forget that it's a general reading so take what resonates. If you don't resonate with this pile, you can choose another one. If you don't resonate with any of the piles, it just means there is no messages for you today. Don't take informations you are not comfortable with, and take care of yourself.

Song channeled during your Reading: Boy With Luv - BTS ft. Halsey

Hi Pile 1, welcome to your reading! Your energy for the Venus Retrograde season will be of hard work and creative energy. You could want to focus on being a better version of yourself, you could also want to focus more on your work, studies, or also daily routine, how can you be more productive. You could be very creative this time and you could also have a lot of ideas. You may want to focus on your family and loved ones as well. During the Venus Retrograde, you could realize some of your traumas, toxic patterns you have in relationships, but also about some toxic patterns and beliefs you have that were taught to you as a child. For example, this could be patterns you always saw as a child in relationships, in your family. If women in your family have been hurt and left by men often, you may have unconsciously felt like it was true, or real and it was a "normal" thing in relationships. You may learn more about those inheritance you had, and you could decide during this period to work on yourself and on those beliefs. You'll def have a strong theme for healing some unwanted feelings related to love and relationships, and perhaps also a problem with jealousy and possessions. You'll want to grow on this side as well, so work on it, doing shadow work, therapy, etc.

During this period, you could indeed do a lot of self reflection about a past love, or your past connections, you could also feel like you need to heal and do some therapy for you. This can be a month where you have a desire to grow, to evolve but in the right direction, and in order for you to evolve well, you first need to evaluate what needs to change. What needs improvement. You could so take a lot of actions into changing even, you could work out more, be more mindful about your diet, you could also try to reach more knowledge. You could want to learn more about your hobbies, or for work, perhaps study more as well. You could also be very focused indeed on your job, and you could reflect a lot about it (or studies, take as it resonates). This could be like are you happy where you are right now? Do you want to evolve in this field? Or do you wanna try something else? Is it the good timing? If you desire a raise or a promotion, you could have a strong desire to work more for that. And you could also be much more creative when it comes to your job or studies, for example use your creativity to work harder or be more productive. You could also work in a creative field, or study in one, and have more ideas.

Now, for a lot of you, it seems like during Venus Retrograde you'll have indeed someone from the past that can come back, so if you had an ex, or a situation ship, someone you thought of recently, someone you had a false start with or even someone you could have feelings for, this could def be a message for you. If you didn't thats fine, this could also be about you meet someone in the Venus Retrograde season. This person could come in your life with the intention to pursue you, and romantically of course. They could appear as flirty, serious, they could tell you their feelings, or be quite romantic in fact. Yet, either this person will cause you to step back and to reflect on the way you deal with romantic connections, or they can come after the self reflection. But this seems to be highly connected. You can indeed wonder if this person is true with you, or if they are just playing around. You can be confused on their actions and their real desire here, not necessarily because they are a player, but because mostly of your own fears. You could so be confused, and instead of acting directly, you'll decide to take it slow. You'll think if you take things slow, and just see if this person is still into you, then in fact they are serious. You'll want to focus on you more, and see how it goes. Thought, to be honest this person may be here for the long run, they don't seem to be a player. And if it's someone from the past, this person seemed to have evolved a lot. They are in a very serious energy when it comes to approaching you.

Thank you so much for reading, I hope you enjoyed, and don't forget to like (even comment your pile if you want) and follow for more content ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡

If you desire a more personal and in-depth reading, you can book a private tarot reading with me.

₊˚⊹♡ - Pile 2 - ₊˚⊹♡

Don't forget that it's a general reading so take what resonates. If you don't resonate with this pile, you can choose another one. If you don't resonate with any of the piles, it just means there is no messages for you today. Don't take informations you are not comfortable with, and take care of yourself.

Song channeled during your Reading: Tupelo Honey - Van Morrison (literally one of my all time fav song)

Hi Pile 2! Welcome to your reading. So the message here is pretty strong, so if you do not have a vibe this is your reading, please choose another one! For this pile, the energy for the Venus Retrograde is about cleaning, healing and detoxification. You could have a feeling right now you wish to heal something, physically or mentally, but you could also do a lot of cleaning in your life right now. This can mean you could have a Venus Retrograde that could be very into cleaning and getting rid of what doesn't serve you anymore. You could also perhaps cry more during this season, but this can in fact be more about healing and accepting certain things than actual pain. You could have a Venus Retrograde where someone from the past is coming back. You could receive news from someone who did you wrong, someone who back stabbed you or someone who made you feel bad in a way. This person could come forward to apologize about it. But they could also come forward because they could have fumbled things between you in the Past. This could also be someone who you dated, someone you were in a relationship with before, or someone as a situation ship. One of you broke up with the other or stopped talking, walked away from the connection. This person wishes to come back to you.

You could enter in a very favorable cycle soon in fact. This can be a very lucky time for you, you could either have an opportunity to gain more money, get a job, or you could also have more clients for example, but this could also feel like a timing where anything is possible. You could have a Venus Retrograde where you feel like you have endless opportunities coming to you, and you feel good and confident. This could be a time that is very good for you to question yourself and your past behaviors, past belief as well. You could go through a period of therapy, self therapy, self reflection, etc. If you wishes to have a better job, or get a promotion, or even just accomplish something in your job, this looks very promising! There could be something changing also in your life but on a good note, so this sounds pretty promising and exciting! You could be more productive also. There is also a strong sense of a possible travel during the Venus Retrograde Season. You could indeed go on a travel journey. If not, you could have more walks during the season, or perhaps you could exercise more. You could also do more meditation too. You could become less worry about the future and living more day to day, or in the present. Moreover, you could talk more with people as well. There is indeed here a strong feeling of someone from the past coming back, and you guys could have a conversation and talk a lot about what happened between you two. You could reconcile or this could be what this person wish for.

Indeed this can be a time when you are more focused on your health and your mental health, and you could try to be nicer to you. You could also try to save money or you could feel like money is coming more easily in your life during this season. You'll def have someone coming towards you and more someone from the past wishing a reconciliation with you. This person could really be sweet, and you could be careful when it comes to them because you simply do not trust them. You'll think this person only wants to have fun with you, or hurt you again, while cards are expressing a strong desire to grow together on a long term. They seem like they are more stable in their energy, they could also be more assertive and sure of what they want. You'll doubt a lot if you can trust this person. This person can tell you they have changed, and despite you'll doubt that, there can indeed be a change in them. It seems like this person really wants to grow and become a better person. You can totally choose to accept them or not, but they do have the intention to be serious with you apparently.

Thank you so much for reading, I hope you enjoyed, and don't forget to like (even comment your pile if you want) and follow for more content ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡

If you desire a more personal and in-depth reading, you can book a private tarot reading with me.

₊˚⊹♡ - Pile 3 - ₊˚⊹♡

Don't forget that it's a general reading so take what resonates. If you don't resonate with this pile, you can choose another one. If you don't resonate with any of the piles, it just means there is no messages for you today. Don't take informations you are not comfortable with, and take care of yourself.

Song channeled during your Reading: One Fine Day - The Chiffons

Hi Pile 3! Welcome to your reading. For your Venus Retrograde Season, I have the energy here of you feeling more confident, you could feel like you are more powerful, but also that things will work out fine for you. This can also be an energy of you finding some truth but also having a better karma. You could be more radiant, bright, you could really shine. You could be very hardworking this season and be more focused on work or your studies, you could work hard and be very focused on you and your daily life. Also a very good timing if you want to focus and work on yourself. You could also search for a balance life style this season, perhaps you could start a diet or just eating more healthy, hitting the gym, or trying to exercise more, you could also try to balance your work more with your personal life. You could also try to talk and meet more your friends, perhaps you were either working too much before or just didn't give your friends as much attention as you wished. You could so more call or text your friends, meeting them and give them more time.

This is def a good time for more work, trying to reach for good grades, more studying, more working, etc. You could really try to have a better routine to be more productive. Though, I still see things happening in your love life, either those people are already in your life or they are about to come, but I see two different people here. One if more gentle, and the other one is more assertive. Water and Earth energies here. You could either be in a relationship with a man with those energies or there could be a situation ship. You could have feelings for one them, perhaps the gentle person. Or you know this person has feelings for you. But another person may come in the picture, someone calm yet more assertive in their energy. This person could have a crush on you or just be interested in you. This person may feel like it is time to do something and come out of the shadow. They seem very sure when coming towards you. This could be a situation where you could be choosing between two people, or just you are dating one of them and you have another person that is into you. You could be hesitating with the first person, they have a gentle soul and energy but you could be not very sure of your feelings or if they feel the same way as you. You could be unsure about them in any cases, and you may wanted or wish to think for a while as to what to do. But with this other option you could be less unsure of what to do. You may also not necessarily trust the second person.

You'll feel like talking to both person, just simply and without trying to make things up. You could really be amazed and feel like life is like a telenovela right now, or feel like "I'm too busy for that!". There is also a feeling of you having a sensation this is very a complex situation, and your love life is a mess. Though I feel like whatever you will do will the right solution. You are a right person and you do the right things, you do not mess around with people nor play with them. Your prioritize yourself which is also a good thing. You'll want to focus on what feels right for you, even if you decide to go along the road of the future on your own. You truly want to focused on what is good for you, not that others want. You'll stay patient and collected, and think before taking any actions.

Thank you so much for reading, I hope you enjoyed, and don't forget to like (even comment your pile if you want) and follow for more content ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡

If you desire a more personal and in-depth reading, you can book a private tarot reading with me.

Thank you for Reading!

support the creator: paypal ⟡ buy me a coffee

[stanislaw-jerzy-let-s]

I kind of think that the whole conversation about caring vs not caring about foreign policy got mixed up with a conversation about cultural imperialism in a way that isn’t very helpful.

I think a couple of separate opinions can coexist:

- Caring about foreign policy seems to me correlated to how much you perceive a given country as a threat and how powerful you think you are. As a person from Eastern Europe (or central, whatever, I don’t care very much) yes, I do perceive Russia as a threat and I do deeply identify with the situation that Ukrainians face. But I do not pretend that it makes the citizens of my country uniquely more altruistic towards other smaller countries. I think in politics the way you frame a given issue to the voters matters a lot, and being a direct neighbour of Russia kind of changes your point of view? But even culturally Germany would have a different view of Russia, because of complex historical reasons (former DDR citizens feeling discriminated against in their own country among others, the growing pro-Russian sentiment because of that, etc etc).

(The only exceptionary behaviour in that regard I can think of is that one time that a group of Polish pro-Napoleonic soldiers decided they will rather move to the side of the Haitians, which was very cool and rad of them)

- that being said, I do think that the US culture is kind of imperialist, but more for structural reasons. Like, all of these books, tv shows etc that we consume are made largely in the US for a US audience, the most important film awards in the world are the Oscars which are ostensibly US centric, even the formulas that Netflix shows made in other countries use often feel deeply American, it just goes through the beats and keywords that matter to the US citizens. There is even a joke about "watching foreign movies" meaning you’re pretentious, right? Stories and points of view and culture of most other countries just don’t seem attractive, but a thing you do to seem intellectual. I think to an extent it works this way around the world anyway; but the rest of the world has their own culture AND American culture, always.

It’s like this one Olga Tokarczuk quote:

"There are countries out there where people speak English. But not like us - we have our own languages hidden in our carry-on luggage, in our cosmetics bags, only ever using English when we travel, and then only in foreign countries, to foreign people. It's hard to imagine, but English is the real language! Oftentimes their only language. They don't have anything to fall back on or to turn to in moments of doubt. How lost they must feel in the world, where all instructions, all the lurics of all the stupidest possible songs, all the menus, all the excruciating pamphlets and brochures - even the buttons in the lift! - are in their private language. They may be understood by anuone at any moment, whenever they open their mouths. They must have to write things down in special codes. Wherever they are, people have unlimited access to them - they are accessible to everyone and everything! I heard there are plans in the works to get them some little language of their own, one of those dead ones no one else is using anyway, just so that for once they can have something just for them"

I don’t mean to insult btw, I will never know English in the same way, but when I travel I do feel like Olga sometimes.

- I do disagree about going through 18 countries being the same as a trip across US though. Not that US is a cultural monolith or is boring or anything like that. But before going to Hungary, for example, I knew very little about it, and it has a whole separate Hungarian cultural universe I could discover. IDK, travelling can be a very dense experience if done well.

[pinkmoontaco]

Hug in the Limelight || Xu Minghao

Pairing: Idol Minghao X Idol Y/n Genre: Romance, Fluff, Idol romance Summary: When Y/n’s group wins their first trophy, she breaks down in tears—only for Minghao to hug her on live TV, shocking everyone. Authors Note: Hey everyone, 😊!! I'm back with a short story that was requested by one of you! First off, I just want to say thank you from the bottom of my heart for all the love and support you’ve shown for Fated to Love You. The incredible response honestly feels like a dream, and I’m beyond grateful for each and every one of you💕 Your sweet comments, reblogs, and kind words truly inspire me to keep writing, so please keep them coming!! Love you guys ❤️ And also feel free to make any request for any other members or other group

M.list

The music was deafening, the lights blinding, and the cheers of the crowd an intoxicating high. But even in the midst of all that, her eyes always found his.

Y/N was used to the chaos of the industry. The long nights, the endless rehearsals, the weight of expectations pressing against her shoulders. She had debuted five years ago, climbing the ranks of the industry, her group steadily growing into one of the top names in K-pop. She had learned to balance fame with sanity, but nothing quite prepared her for meeting Xu Minghao.

They met during a special year-end collaboration stage. Her group and SEVENTEEN had been paired together for a mixed performance, a fusion of styles meant to showcase their versatility. Minghao, with his effortless grace and piercing gaze, had immediately caught her attention. But she wasn’t the type to easily show interest. She kept things professional, exchanging polite greetings and focusing on rehearsals.

Minghao, however, was different. He wasn’t loud or overbearing like some of the other idols she had worked with. He moved through the world with an air of calmness, always observing, always calculating. And yet, there was a warmth to him—something she couldn’t quite put her finger on.

Their first real conversation happened backstage after a long rehearsal. Y/N had been stretching when he approached, a bottle of water in hand. “You should take a break,” he said, offering it to her.

She raised an eyebrow but accepted it. “You sound like my leader.”

He chuckled, settling down beside her. “I just know how exhausting this industry can be.”

For some reason, she found herself opening up. “Sometimes, I forget what it’s like to rest. It’s always go, go, go.”

Minghao hummed in understanding. “Then you should find small moments for yourself. Even in the chaos.”

She thought about that conversation for weeks after. It wasn’t just his words, but the way he said them—like he truly understood. From then on, stolen moments became their thing. Between rehearsals, at award shows, in the quiet hallways of music broadcasts. A glance, a fleeting smile, a whispered joke. They were never reckless, never obvious, but they found each other in the places where the cameras didn’t reach.

One night, after another successful performance, they found themselves alone on the rooftop of the venue. The city stretched out before them, lights flickering like stars. Y/N pulled her jacket tighter around herself as the cool air bit at her skin.

Minghao leaned against the railing beside her. “You were amazing tonight.”

She smiled. “So were you.”

They stood in silence for a moment before he turned to face her fully. “Y/N… do you ever wonder if there’s a version of us that doesn’t have to hide?”

Her heart clenched at the question. She had thought about it more times than she could count. “All the time,” she admitted. “But we both know the reality.”

He nodded, looking up at the sky. “Then we’ll just have to make the most of what we have.”

She reached for his hand, fingers lacing together. It was dangerous. Reckless, even. But in that moment, she didn’t care. Because despite everything—the cameras, the contracts, the expectations—they had this. Their stolen moments. And for now, that was enough.

But then, everything changed.

A week later, a blurry photo of them holding hands surfaced online. It spread like wildfire, speculations running rampant. Their agencies moved quickly, arranging emergency meetings and discussing possible responses. They had two choices—deny or come clean.

Minghao was the first to make a decision. “Let’s be honest,” he said, looking at Y/N with certainty in his eyes. “I don’t want to pretend anymore.”

Her heart pounded as she nodded. “Me neither.”

The next day, they posted matching statements on social media. “Yes, we are together. We’ve found comfort and happiness in each other, and we hope you can support us.”

The reactions were mixed—some fans cheered, others felt betrayed. But through it all, Minghao stayed by her side, holding her hand just as tightly as he had that night on the rooftop.

And this time, they weren’t just stolen moments. They were theirs to keep.

The stage of Music Bank was deafening. Cheers, screams, and a wave of emotions crashed through the air as Y/n’s group was announced as the winner.

For a moment, she just stood there. Did she hear that right?

Her leader’s hands flew to her mouth, another member collapsed to the floor, sobbing uncontrollably. Their dream—the thing they had fought for, cried for, bled for—was finally in their grasp.

Y/n tried to hold herself together, tried to keep her emotions at bay, but the moment she locked eyes with the fans in the audience, the ones who had waited years for this just as much as they had—the tears fell.

She covered her face with her hands, her body trembling as reality sank in. Her members wrapped around each other in a tight embrace, crying, shaking, overwhelmed.

And then, through her blurred vision, she saw him.

Xu Minghao.

Standing on the other side of the stage, his gaze locked onto hers. His lips were slightly parted, as if he was trying to find words, but the way his hands clenched into fists at his sides told her everything.

In that moment, he didn’t care about the cameras. He didn’t care about the industry’s rules.

He moved.

The entire stage seemed to freeze as Minghao crossed the boundary between them.

The MCs' voices stuttered. The other idols gasped. The audience erupted.

Before Y/n could even process it, she was in his arms.

A collective gasp filled the studio.

She didn’t hesitate—her arms wrapped around his torso as she buried her face into his shoulder, shaking from both the weight of the moment and the warmth he provided.

Minghao held her tightly, one hand cradling the back of her head, the other securing her against him as if shielding her from the entire world. He didn’t care about the rules. He didn’t care about the headlines.

She had won, and he needed her to know he was there.

The MCs didn’t know what to say. The idols behind them exchanged stunned glances, some covering their mouths, others clutching their chests in shock. The broadcast camera zoomed in, capturing every moment—a moment that would become legendary.

Y/n trembled in his arms, gripping his jacket so tightly that her knuckles turned white. “I—I can’t believe it…” she choked out between sobs.

Minghao exhaled shakily, his own eyes glassy. He pulled back just enough to look at her, his hands gently wiping the tears off her cheeks. “Believe it. You deserve this.”

Her lip quivered, fresh tears threatening to spill.

The murmurs of the other idols grew louder, whispers of “Oh my God,” “This is insane,” and “They really don’t care anymore” filling the air.

Finally, one of the MCs stammered into the mic, “W-Well… I think we just witnessed something… historic.”

The audience was already exploding, social media in flames with headlines flooding in real-time.

"SEVENTEEN'S MINGHAO DEFIES INDUSTRY RULES—PUBLICLY EMBRACES Y/N DURING FIRST WIN!"

"MINGHAO AND Y/N: LOVE IN THE SPOTLIGHT"

"IDOLS AREN'T SUPPOSED TO SHOW THIS MUCH EMOTION—BUT MINGHAO JUST DID."

But at that moment, neither of them cared.

Minghao cupped her cheeks, his thumbs tracing gentle circles as he whispered, "Let them say what they want. This moment is yours.”

Y/n sniffled, nodding, and for the first time that night, a smile broke through her tears.

With their hands still intertwined, standing under the brightest lights in the industry, they had never felt freer.

[johanna-517]

"Special and unique"

(CHAPTER 3)

The following days after your ninth birthday, you spent time locked in your room again, still quite sad and disappointed with how things had turned out.

You tried, you really did... You tried your best. That day, you tried to dress up enough to be a little cute, you went to pick Tim up yourself, and you waited until late at night for Bruce so he could come and eat cake with you. But in the end... Nothing you did was enough. You ruined things with Tim, and your father still didn't give you any of his time, even on your birthday.

What did you do wrong? You... You just wanted them to look at you with something other than anger or disgust. You just wanted them to be a real family to you.

Because... Mom's gone, your aunt and cousins aren't here either, you feel... alone. You want someone by your side, someone to tell you everything will be okay, that they love you and will take care of you. Someone who can comfort you every time you cry again because you miss your mother. But Bruce doesn't do that, much less Tim. Now you know that... You can't expect warmth from them; maybe they're too different from a little girl like you who's just looking for comfort and affection.

"Okay..." you sigh softly, finally starting to get out of bed. You can't stay locked up here forever, right? Even if you still feel a little bad, that doesn't mean you can't get better, even if it's just a little.

As you held Toti in your arms again... Your gaze focused on the mirror in the room, observing the reflection of your own appearance. You moved a little closer.

"Ah... Why do I keep looking like this? I really do seem like a nuisance, just like Tim said," you muttered to yourself, your voice trembling slightly as you looked at your messy appearance in the mirror... And now, you focused on looking at the reflection of your own eyes.

"Mis ojos... ¿Tal vez son demasiado raros? Son... ¿Feos? " You shuddered slightly at the thought, a shiver of fear running down your spine. "Maybe... Dad and Tim don't like my eyes? That's why they don't like me..."

You gritted your teeth slightly, not wanting your eyes to be the reason they don't approach you, but if they are... You should fix it then.

Without thinking twice, you grab a pair of scissors and... You start cutting some of your hair, creating bangs long enough to hide your eyes a bit. And, since you definitely don't know much about this, you just do your best, but your cut definitely isn't perfect.

"This... It'll be okay, right?" you smile to yourself as you look in the mirror. Now, your eyes are a little more hidden by the strands of hair covering your forehead, and a bit of your eyes too. So... Maybe now Dad will have time to talk to you, right? Maybe now Tim won't look at you with anger and disgust.

Shortly after your new change, feeling happier you decide to leave your room, running to the kitchen with the intention of showing Alfred your new change.

However, the bangs didn't allow you to see very well, so without realizing it, you ended up colliding with someone.

He gently takes your arm, keeping you from falling. When you look up, you find yourself staring into his face: he has beautiful blue eyes and black hair. You're thrilled when you recognize him—he's Dick, Bruce's oldest adopted son. You finally get to meet him.

You apologize for bumping into him, smiling brightly. You try to say more. You wanted to tell him your name and say you're happy to meet him, but then... He just pulls away from you, tries to smile kindly, and tells you he's busy, and that you can talk another time.

You watch him leave, feeling a pang of disappointment in your chest. But you shake your head, trying to shake off that feeling of disappointment. He... At least he was nice, right? He smiled at you and said he'd talk to you later, which means he doesn't dislike you. It means he doesn't dislike you. Excellent! That's a good start, you thought to yourself.

You went to Alfred and told him about your 'pleasant' first encounter with Dick. You told him excitedly, and he smiled, glad that at least Dick hadn't completely ignored you upon meeting you.

A few more days passed. Now you seemed happier, and you left your room more often, walking calmly through the mansion's long hallways regularly. This was because you realized that by going out and walking through the mansion, you were more likely to run into a family member and thus be able to get closer to one of your siblings.

Plus, after your first encounter with Dick, your hopes of getting along with the family members increased. You believed that if you tried, they might like you. Then, Tim and Bruce might forget your mistakes from past encounters and be nice to you too, and you'd be able to get along with everyone here... Your biggest dream.

Today, it almost seemed like there was a meeting in the kitchen, there were Bruce, Alfred, Tim, Dick and Barbara.

Alfred had mentioned Barbara to you, telling you that she was close to the family, so you might see her here at the mansion sometime soon. And that day was today.

You sigh softly, putting on your best expression as you walk into the kitchen. As you enter, Alfred smiles at you, and he introduces you to Barbara.

She just nods slightly, seeming completely uninterested and indifferent to you. You tense a little at the realization, and then you look over at the others, and realize that Tim, Dick, and Bruce aren't paying attention to you either. They're talking amongst themselves, completely ignoring you, as if you weren't even there... Alfred notices this, but before he can say anything, you stop him.

"Okay, Alfred... I have to go, I'll go back to my room" you smile slightly, trying to look calm as you turn and leave the kitchen.

When you reach your room, you close the door behind you. You sink to the floor, your eyes filling with tears once again.

Why... Does it seem like no one cares about you? Why do your brothers and your dad seem so indifferent toward you? They don't even look at you, not even once!

You grit your teeth. This time, what you feel is anger... Bruce doesn't see you. You're his daughter, but in the time you've been here, it seems like you don't even exist to him. Tim ignores you too, not to mention how hostile he was last time, even pushing you away. And Dick... He promised he'd talk to you later, but it's been days since that, and even when you saw him at the mansion again, he kept saying the same thing: "Sorry, kiddo. I'm busy. We can talk another time." No matter how much you insisted, he would just... Look away and say goodbye to you with a fake, kind smile on his face. And now... It seems Barbara will be as indifferent to you as they are.

It's not fair... You just wanted them to look at you at least once. And all you get is... Disdain, false promises, being brushed aside like you're invisible. You're literally just a little kid looking for her 'family'... But maybe they don't even see you as part of their family.

So... When you look out the window, your eyes observe a small monarch butterfly entering your room, flying calmly until it reaches you, landing on one of your hands.

Your expression softens at the sight of the butterfly, remembering something...

You were six years old, you were in the garden of your house with your mother, she was watering the plants in the garden while singing a song, her voice was always so sweet.

As you walked behind your mother, the warm sun shone down on both of you while colorful flowers adorned the small garden.

Then, a monarch butterfly flew in, and stopped right over your nose, at first you let out a little yelp of surprise, scared by the unexpected butterfly on your nose.

Your mother turned around when she heard you, and seeing your scared expression because of the butterfly she couldn't help but laugh slightly, but she quickly approached, gently removing the butterfly from your nose.

"Tranquila... No tengas miedo, es solo una mariposa, no te hará daño" She said, comforting you with a sweet and soft tone, gently caressing your cheek.

"Además... ¿Sabías que ese tipo de mariposas solo se acercan a personas buenas? Se dice que se acercan únicamente a niñas tan lindas como tú, y que esas mariposas siempre están ahí para guiar y consolar" your mother explained, making you smile instantly.

You remember what she told you that time years ago. Seeing the butterfly brings a small smile to your lips.

Definitely... You know what your mom said about those butterflies was just to make you feel better, but... Right now it seems like what she said was true. Because... How is it possible that a butterfly like this was also here in Gotham? And it literally flew into your room, as if it had been looking for you all along.

"Mamá dijo que era algo bueno tener cerca a una linda mariposa como tú" You murmured softly, your expression friendly as you watched the tiny butterfly in your hand.

For some reason, the presence of that butterfly in your room brought you great relief, even more so because it reminded you of your mother. You almost completely forgot how you felt about the way you were treated here, focusing solely on the presence of that butterfly.

You talked to her for a bit, as if she could hear you. After a while, you finally said goodbye and let her fly out the window.

You were still smiling as you watched her leave, you really hoped to see her again soon.

That night was the first night in this mansion that you were able to sleep well, without crying, without nightmares, without worry, without pain... Without sadness.

For some reason, the relief and comfort you found in the presence of the monarch butterfly was quite similar to the relief and tranquility that only one person could bring you: your mother.

❦: (Here is the third chapter, I hope you liked it :D).

[lilianne-tarot]

PICK A CARD: Your Next Cutest Moment With Your Crush ⋆.𐙚 ̊

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How to Pick Your Pile: Take a deep breath, clear your mind, and look at the images above. Which one pulls you in the most? Trust your gut! Once you choose the image, The number below your chosen image is your pile. If more than one catches your eye, that just means there’s extra tea for you—go ahead and read both!

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My KO-FI link: HERE🫶🏻

MY MASTERLIST 🫶🏻

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˙⋆✮PILE I

Cards pulled: 8 of swords, 4 of wands, the moon, 8 of cups, 10 of wands

DAMN PILE 1. First of all, let me say this: you are not expecting this moment to be as soft and emotionally charged as it’s gonna be. Like, this gives "oops I didn’t know you cared like that" energy. Baby, we’re starting with confusion, and overthinking from your side. You think you're stuck in the friend zone or on the outside of their world, but honey, you have no clue what’s simmering under the surface. 

So, picture this: It’s a casual hangout—maybe a small get-together, birthday, or group thing (4 of Wands is like the party card, but lowkey, cozy vibes). There’s laughter, chatter, but you? You’re kind of in your head, unsure of where you stand. And that's when they notice. Oh yes. They clock that you’re feeling distant. And guess what? They do something about it. This moment becomes special because your crush sees you — like, really notices you. The 10 of Wands is screaming that they are carrying a lot too — probs crushing hard but holding it in because they think you wouldn’t be into them like that (plot twist: wrong). So here you both are, lowkey struggling under all these feelings you think the other one doesn’t have — until bam, the vibe shifts.

 BABY. They are shooketh. Like, this person has been holding back so much again, 10 of Wands. They are Carrying all these feelings and not telling anyone (Relatable content). And in this moment, seeing you? It hits different. Their feelings are rising to the surface, even if they don’t confess right away. You’ll probably catch their eyes lingering a little too long, voice softer, body turned toward you like you’re the only person in the room. After? They’ll be thinking about this moment on repeat. Like, analyzing everything you said, everything. You’ll live rent-free in their mind, okay?

If we talk about how they’ll feel after that, then, Honestly? Shook but in a good way. Like, "Hold up, are we having a moment right now?" maybe pretending to be chill but internally screaming because finally, there’s proof that this connection is not one-sided. And here’s the kicker: You’ll feel lighter because finally, someone sees you beyond what you present to the world. To give you a hint, Maybe someone even mentions the moon? Also, I’m hearing soft, nostalgic songs — think "Until I Found You" by Stephen Sanchez or something giving "you’re my secret crush I didn’t know how to say it" vibes.

Okay babe, listen up: Don’t run from this moment. When they open up to you or give you that look, you know the look, lean into it. You don’t have to give in everything, but give them something back. Smile a little longer. Touch their arm when you respond, . Say something real like, "I didn’t think you noticed, but I’m glad you do." (i sound like a relationship coach right now😭) if you do this, BOOM door opened for more.An advice is, stop overthinking your worth in their eyes (I say this lovingly). You are so much more seen and adored than you realize. The moment will be so much better if you allow yourself to believe that.

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˙⋆✮PILE II

Cards Pulled: the world reversed, the star, 8 of pentacles, 7 of swords reversed, the devil

Ooooh okay, babe, pile 2 — let me just say, the energy coming off this spread is intense but kinda sexy, like that moment in a movie when two people accidentally brush hands, but you know it's not that accidental. So let’s dive in because this is tea you need to hear.

So first of all—The World reversed sitting next to The Star? BABY, this cute moment is about to hit you like unfinished business meets healing energy. I’m seeing a vibe where either you and your crush haven’t really gotten to that “real talk” moment yet OR there’s some tension under the surface — like, y’all are low-key circling each other but haven’t admitted that this connection is a little too charged to be just casual. And then bam, the moment happens. 8 of Pentacles is giving me “mundane but magical,” so imagine, you're both focused on something else, but in the middle of all that, something shifts. Maybe you’re working on a project, helping a friend, or just caught in conversation when suddenly, it gets weirdly deep. Like… you drop a vulnerable comment without realizing, and they catch it. 7 of Swords reversed says the mask slips — for both of you.

Now here is when The Devil enters the chat. And listen, when I say chemistry off the charts, I mean red flag, green flag, I-don’t-even-care-I-wanna-touch-you kind of tension. It’s giving lingering glances, leaning in a little too close, breath hitching in your throat kinda moment. Like, someone says something stupidly flirty (maybe joking to cover it up😶‍🌫️), but you both freeze because why does it feel like you're standing too close in a crowded room? What makes this moment special, though, is that mix of vulnerability and raw attraction. The Star softens The Devil’s intense vibe—so instead of this being some flirty joke you move past, it's gonna feel like "I see you for real" energy. And The World reversed says this is a long time coming. Y’all have been dancing around this for a hot minute, and finally, the tension snaps—but in a cute, sweet way that makes your heart flutter and leaves you questioning if that just happened.

Now here’s the fun part: how they feel during and after? Okay, babe, they're SHOOK. Like full-on rethinking their life choices shook. They didn’t mean to be that obvious, but 7 of Swords reversed says they can't hide it anymore—your vibe gets under their skin in a way they can't explain. And after? Obsessing. Low-key watching your socials, replaying what was said in their head, wondering if you picked up on their feelings. Meanwhile, you're out here also spiraling in the cutest way, like “Did they mean that touch? Was I imagining it? Why did I blush so hard?” Symbolic signs? Omg, Devil + Star combo tells me music is important. Either a song plays right as this moment happens, or you’ll hear a song that reminds you of that exact vibe afterward—like those songs that make you feel like you're the main character having a slow-burn love story. And also, I’m seeing mirrors or reflections—maybe you catch them staring at you through a window, or you glance at each other in a reflection and realize the eye contact is a little too intense.

Just be in the moment. If you wanna drop a little "Hmm, interesting..." smirk, do it. If you wanna linger a little longer in the conversation, do it. You’re safe to explore this tension. There might be aa shift in your dynamic where y’all go from casual/crushing to "oh, we’re really a thing, huh?" Even if it’s unspoken at first, trust me, you’ll both walk away from this moment knowing something changed.

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˙⋆✮ PILE III

Cards pulled: 9 of pentacles, 8 of wands, 3 of pentacles, 2 of pentacles, 6 of cups

Omg! my dear PILE 3 when I say your next cute moment with your crush is giving rom-com in real life, I’m not exaggerating. The way these cards are laid out, I swear it’s like watching the scene of a movie where the tension builds, something adorable (and chaotic) happens, and suddenly, you’re both realizing there’s something more here. And yes—so many pentacles—like HELLO? Stability, vibes. 

 So first off, HONEY, this isn't just a fleeting, "oops we bumped into each other at the coffee shop" type of moment. No no. With the 9 of Pentacles, 3 of Pentacles, and 2 of Pentacles, this moment is happening in a space where you're both comfortable but lowkey performing for each other, like a mutual friends’ gathering, a casual group project meet, or some type of shared task/event where you both gotta show up and work together. BUT—here’s the tea—the moment you two are in the same space, it's like everything starts moving fast, because of the 8 of Wands energy, and suddenly you're both matching each other’s energy, bantering, and doing the most to lowkey impress each other, while pretending you're totally chill.

it’s going to feel sweet and natural. Maybe you’ll bring up an inside joke from the past, or one of you will recall a cute memory you shared before—something that softens the whole moment and makes you both realize how comfortable you are together. Like imagine you’re laughing over some dumb joke only the two of you get, and suddenly there’s that pause—that eye contact where you’re both like, “Wait, why is my heart doing this?” Also, side note—there’s this energy of playful competition here, like maybe you're teasing each other, or working on something and "accidentally" brushing hands, you know? Very romantic tension building under casual vibes.

2 of Swords popping out from the deck when i was done pulling out the cards, tells me they’re gonna be a mess internally, but trying SO HARD to keep cool. Like, on the outside, they’ll be laughing and vibing, but on the inside? Full on omg why do I suddenly feel so into them? panic mode. And here’s where 8 of Wands comes in—this moment will hit them fast and hard, like they didn’t expect to feel this level of attraction or connection, and suddenly it’s just there. You’ll feel on top of the world, like "damn, I was cute today" energy. You'll notice them noticing you—like, actually noticing—and it’ll give you such a boost. But also, there will be a part of you that’s like, "Hmm, should I play this cool? Or should I risk showing I’m into them too?"—2 of Pentacles struggle—balancing that playful energy with your real feelings.  

I see someone saying something about “balance” or “juggling” or even a song playing in the background that's all about realizing feelings for someone you’ve known for a while—think "You Belong With Me" vibes but less dramatic. Also, food might weirdly pop into this moment? Like casually offering each other snacks or talking about food. Idk why, but I’m seeing it. 

 This moment is a stepping stone—like, after this, your dynamic is gonna shift. Your crush won’t be able to unsee the way they felt around you. Expect them to be a lil' awkward in the days after, like trying to “figure out” why they suddenly feel so drawn to you. And babe, let them stew in it a bit—you’ve got the power here.

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Thank you so much for reading all the way through! I hope my reading resonated with you and that you had a lovely time going through it. If you enjoyed it, please like and reblog—it really means a lot! Let me know which pile you chose; I absolutely love hearing your thoughts and feedback on my readings! ♡

Note: tarot cards provide guidance and possible insights into what could happen based on current energies, thoughts, and actions. the cards can highlight potential paths or outcomes, but they do not predict the future in a fixed way. this is a general reading so take what resonates!

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[plantsjustwannahavefun]

I agree, and just wanted to add, this isn't even a gendered thing. I'm AFAB, outwardly pass as a woman, but most of the time I dress like a vaguely genderless version of Just Some Dude (mostly because I buying clothes and finding something I like that fits me is a massive chore and I fucking hate it). Never wear makeup, and have the kind of hair you can't really do anything interesting with.

I get complimented maybe a few times per year. And every single time it's because I made extra effort to look noticeably better or at least different than I normally do.

Thing is, it's not even about looking nice, I think it's the "looking different than I normally do" part that counts. I still remember that one girl in my uni course who looked so incredibly put-together every single day, it's like she was a real-life crossover character from a Hollywood movie or a Pantene ad. Funny thing, she started dating the son of one of my mum's patients, and she told my mum that girl apparently spent like 2 hours every morning putting on that look (and I'm saying this with utmost admiration, I can't imagine being this dedicated to anything).

And you know what? I've never seen her get any compliments, either. Because what would be a godly level of glowup for the rest of us was just an everyday default look for her. She was 100% of those women who'd be accused of looking mortally ill if she showed up without makeup or without straightening her hair. I don't know when she started with this, but I imagine the first few times she showed up like that, she got showered with compliments... and then eventually people stopped because they just got used to the way she looks.

Maybe compliments being special is actually a good thing, though? If you got complimented on your appearance every single day, wouldn't it stop giving you that serotonin rush and become something mundane? I actually prefer only getting complimented occasionally because they're a lot more memorable that way. Five years ago, my brother's wife randomly told me I have a sexy collarbone, and I'm still coasting on that one.

I just know that the dudes who make those "girls get 500 compliments a day vs. guy gets one compliment once and cherishes it for the rest of his life" memes put zero effort into their appearance. Like what exactly do you expect people to say? Wow nice plain ill-fitting hoodie, goes great with your basic-ass blue jeans and nondescript haircut. Got some real cool Grey Man vibes going on, you could seamlessly blend into any crowd ever without being seen at all.

Like nobody has any obligation to look any certain way, but you can't expect to be praised for doing something you're not even trying to do. I dress like I got tarred and feathered in a Tim Burton film costume department discard scrap pile, and someone saying they like my style is a biweekly occurrence.

[luv-lock]

Thinking about what the invincible variants were thinking when they see the mainstream alien!reader... Now think about what the variants talking about their respective alien!reader when they were stuck in the wasteland dimension (⁠◡⁠ ⁠ω⁠ ⁠◡⁠)

Oh, this is good. Imagine all the different Invincible variants stuck in that wasteland dimension, looking at each other, realizing just how different their relationships with their respective alien readers are. Some of them probably think they got the best version. Others? Yeah… not so much. For the sake of it let's pretend main Mark is there too.

When They See the Mainstream Alien Reader

The first thing they all notice? She’s normal. Well, as normal as a Qu can be. She’s protective, strong, and yeah, a little terrifying when it comes to keeping Mark safe, but she’s not trying to conquer planets, not committing genocide, and definitely not treating Mark like a glorified blood bag or a means to an end. She actually cares about him.

Sinister Mark? He’s looking at her like she’s an alien in a way he’s never seen before. “Wait, she doesn’t eat people?” He doesn’t get it. How is she not constantly dripping in blood? How does she not rule over something? More importantly, how does this Mark have all his limbs intact?

Viltrumite Mark? He just stares because, honestly, he can’t even imagine a version of his wife who isn’t sick and frail. His version can barely keep her eyes open half the time, and here’s this one, standing beside her Mark, fully awake and looking healthy. He hates how much that pisses him off.

Mohawk Mark? He just laughs. “Oh, so you actually like her? That’s cute.” His Y/n only cares about herself, so the idea of one actually prioritizing Mark is just hilarious to him. He calls it pathetic, but deep down, he wonders what it’s like to have a partner who gives a shit.

When They Talk About Their Own Alien Readers

Eventually, when they’re stuck in the wasteland long enough, they start talking. And the more they talk, the more they realize… some of them are in absolute hell.

Normal Mark (Mainstream)

"So, uh… you guys don’t have this? Y’know, a wife who actually cares about you?"

He’s confused. How did he get the best version of her? Why are all their relationships so weird? His Y/n follows him everywhere, sure, but she doesn’t treat him like shit, doesn’t use him, and she’s a great mom.

The more he listens to them, the more he realizes just how insane their versions are.

He starts feeling lucky. Really lucky.

Sinister Mark

"Yeah, no, I don’t want yours. I like mine just the way she is."

He adores his version. Is it toxic? Absolutely. Do they kill together? Yes. Do they sometimes eat people together? Also yes.

He doesn’t understand how anyone could be satisfied with a Qu who isn’t a complete monster.

He’s also lowkey judging Viltrumite Mark. “Dude, you have her locked up? She’s your prisoner? What the hell is wrong with you?”

Viltrumite Mark

"You wouldn’t understand. She’s fragile. She needs me."

He acts like he’s got everything under control, but the more he listens to how alive everyone else’s versions are, the more he starts questioning things.

He convinces himself that his Y/n being weak is a good thing. That it makes her special.

But there’s a part of him that wonders what it would be like to have a version of her that wasn’t always sick, that didn’t need to be locked away.

Mohawk Mark

"Bro, mine’s just in it for the sex. She doesn’t even remember my name half the time."

He thinks it’s hilarious. Everyone else is talking about how they have some kind of relationship with their Y/n, meanwhile, he’s just out here dealing with the most selfish version possible.

He doesn’t care, though. He enjoys himself. He gets what he wants, and so does she.

But after hearing everyone else talk, a small part of him wonders what it would be like to actually have a real connection. Not just physical, but actual affection. He’d never admit it, though.

How the Conversation Ends

By the end of it, Normal Mark is sitting there like, "Damn. I really won, huh?" Meanwhile, Viltrumite Mark is trying to convince himself he’s happy, Sinister Mark is fully convinced he has the best version of all time, and Mohawk Mark is just vibing, pretending he’s fine.

Honestly, if they ever got out of that wasteland, I wouldn’t be surprised if some of them started questioning their entire existence.

[oopsiedaisydeer]

ᴘʀɪɴᴄᴇꜱꜱ

fluff, childhood friends to lovers, pet-names, awkwardness, flirting, unresolved feelings, nostalgia, "pretty princess", cute, awkward boy energy, 12 years of teasing

based off this request by @throatgoat4u !!!

word count - 1k

She was a princess. That much was obvious.

Matt decided it the moment he saw her that day, twirling in one of those shiny, puffy dresses, the kind with too many layers and a scratchy tulle skirt. The kind that came with a matching plastic tiara and sparkles that would end up clinging to his skin for weeks. It was just for dress up day in first grade, but none of that really mattered—because to six year old Matt, she was a real princess.

“You look like a real princess,” he told her, because it was the truth. She beamed at him, cheeks warm, hands smoothing over the puffy skirt like she wanted to believe it too.

From that moment on, he stuck to it.

“Princesses don’t have to carry their own backpacks,” he announced, puffing out his chest as he wrestled it off her shoulders and threw it onto his own.

She stared at him, confused. “What?”

“Princesses get the last cookie too.” He handed it over without hesitation, completely serious about it.

Her fingers tightened around the snack, but she didn’t take a bite. “Why are you being weird?”

Matt blinked at her, as if she was the one who didn’t understand. “Because you’re a princess. That’s just how it works.”

And that was that.

He took the title very seriously.

“Princesses shouldn’t have to run,” he said another time, grabbing her wrist and pulling her along when the school bell rang, like some noble knight leading her to safety.

“Princesses get to pick the game,” he told their friends when she hesitated on the playground.

“Princesses don’t open doors by themselves,” he added, dramatically pulling open the classroom door and bowing like the boys did in the books his mom read him and his brothers.

And worst of all—worst of all—he kept saying it.

“Here you go, princess.”

“Need help, your highness?”

“Be careful, pretty princess.”

Because his mom told him that’s what you call a princess, and Matt always listened to his mom.

She didn’t know why, but she hated it. And she loved it. But she still didn’t know what it meant.

One day, Matt stopped her while she was playing with her friends, looking at her like he was thinking really hard about something.

“Your hair’s all pretty, like a princess’s,” he said, his face turning pink. “Like, it’s all shiny, and it looks soft, like the princesses in the movies. You know, the ones with the crowns.”

She blinked at him, confused. “Huh?”

Matt scratched his head. “I just mean, your hair’s pretty. Like a princess.” He seemed kind of nervous, but he kept staring at her like he wanted to say more.

She looked away quickly, but she felt all warm inside. “It’s just hair,” she mumbled.

Matt pouted. “No, it’s princess hair.”

She didn’t know how to say it, but that made her feel kind of good. Weird, but good.

The next day at recess, Matt sprinted at her from across the playground, her legs dangling from the swing.

“Princess!” he said like he just figured something out. “You look pretty even when you don’t have your dress on.”

She tilted her head. “What?”

“You’re always so careful,” Matt said, swinging his feet back and forth. “Like, you’re looking at everything, even the clouds and the flowers and stuff. Princesses do that. They look at everything and think it’s all special.”

She didn’t really get it, but it made her feel funny in a nice way. She started to walk away from the strange boy.

“And you’ve got a princess face,” Matt added quickly, like he didn’t want to forget. “Your eyes are warm, and your cheeks are blushing!”

She didn’t get it. Every time he said it, something squirmy and warm settled in her stomach, and she didn’t know why. She folded her arms tight against her chest and scowled, but Matt only grinned like he was proud of himself.

“You don’t have to call me that,” she mumbled, kicking at a loose pebble on the sidewalk.

Matt blinked at her, genuinely confused. “But you are a princess.”

She stomped her foot. “I am not.”

“Are too.”

“Am not!”

“Are too.”

She hated it. She loved it. And she had no idea what it meant.

She turned and looked back at him once more, before running off to play in the sandpit.

The princess thing had faded, buried under years of growing up and forgotten playground games.

Now, they’re just good friends who have grown up together. Having a normal night, him dropping her off after a group movie night at his house. 

But as Matt pulls into her driveway, she doesn’t expect it. The way he glances at her, his fingers tapping against the steering wheel as he says, almost casually—

“You always were pretty, princess.”

It’s like a wave crashing over her, and for a moment, she can’t breathe. She blinks, trying to catch her composure. “What?”

Matt shrugs like it’s nothing. “What?”

Her stomach twists, and she glares at him. “You can’t just say stuff like that, Matt.”

“Like what?” His lips twitch. He knows exactly what he’s doing. “I’m just saying. You do look like a pretty princess. Six year old me knew what he was talking about.”

And now she’s thinking about it. Thinking about everything he said back then. For a second, she tries to brush it off. Tries to convince herself it’s just the same old teasing, just the same old nickname. But it’s not. Not anymore. Her heart’s racing, and she can’t make it stop.

All of a sudden, he jumps out of the car, speeding quickly around to her side. 

Matt opens the door with a grin, leaning against it, slightly out of breath, like he’s done this a million times.

“Go ahead, princess.”

She hates him.

She hates him.

And her hands are shaking when she unbuckles her seatbelt.

creds to rose for the dividers !! @bernardsbendystraws

a/n: i hope u like it nini this one was a struggle but she's cute. also semi-inspired by this blurb by @snoopychris

taglist: @blushsturns @sturnslutz @snoopychris @hazedsturns @sturns-mermaid @chrissweetheart @cowboylikenat @camzeecorner @sturniolo101 @courta13 @sweetshuga @st7rnioioss @throatgoat4u @shadowthesim237 @emely9274 @sturnberries @bluestriips @lovergirl4gracieabrams @chrisslut04 @tezzzzzzzz

till next time !!

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

Since you've discussed your favorite parts of ep. 7, I'd like to know your biggest criticisms of it & how you would've addressed them.

[Referencing this post!]

*raises finger* (my lawyer pulls me away)

Here’s how I would change the ending (while still staying within the Disney + mobile gacha game restraints and sticking with the themes + patterns established by other OBs):

Rework all the dreams. Every single last one. I can’t count the number of issues I have with them. Between the inconsistent pacing (4-35 parts per boy), the lack of urgency, extra fat (irrelevant convos), frequent contradictory explanations of the dreams, and the on-the-nose announcements of how each boy has changed, these are horribly inefficient vehicles for storytelling and need to be significantly tightened.

Between each dorm’s dreams, cut back to Malleus and Lilia so they at least STAY relevant for a book that is supposedly about Diasomnia. Let us know what Malleus’s current state of mind is, have Lilia reflect on what it’s like to see Malleus twisted into… this. Something, anything.

Make the explanation for the dreams consistent. Instead of changing the explanation or slapping on new details every other update, just claim right from the get-go that dreams tend to pull from a dreamer’s wishes/desires but it’s unknown how the dream worlds will actually be interpreted or how they’ll interact with Malleus’s magic since each person is so different. You can still have the dreams with deeper hidden meanings, but avoid overcomplicating the logic governing dreams in the first place.

Have Lilia join up with us in the dream world. Maybe a scene where Ortho or Idia connects the dots on his identity and contacts Lilia using his Muscle Red gaming ID tag in the dream world. Lilia receives his invite that way and joins us for the battle maps + help Silver and Sebek train with their new equipment. You can also potentially use this section to have Silver and Lilia reconcile over Lilia keeping secrets from him.

Like how Sebek had moments with the first years in their dreams, give Silver moments in which he can reflect on his relationship with + thoughts on the Dawn Knight. It feels a little strange to me that we went from emotional breakdown learning about his lineage to… thanking the Dawn Knight for not taking Lilia away at the end??? Like it feels like we missed the middle part of that development. We never got to hear his inner thoughts about the ordeal or how he comes to terms with it. For something so heavy, you’d think there would be more screen time dedicated to that??

The sword strikes Malleus, which brings him back to his senses but doesn’t break the horn. (This is just a personal dislike thing; it’s uncomfortable for me because it inevitably reminds me of poor injured animals and that’s not exactly… fun 💦)

Lilia still gets in the way of Malleus and Silver’s final stand-off, but rather than dying, he’s in critical condition and is in very real danger of dying.

Have Malleus willingly sacrifice a significant chunk of his magic (since he has all that excess from the senators blessing him + Malleus even canonically says he’ll give up his wings, his lifespan, etc.) to bring back Lilia from the brink. This would serve multiple purposes: 1) permanently power cap Malleus, 2) show him that his previous actions actually hurt Lilia but he also has the power to do good too (so he’s not filled with complete despair at the end), 3) rids him of the excess power he didn’t ask for, so now he’s more “approachable” to people, 4) doesn’t bring up potential issues with reviving the dead, since this could be categorized as ultra powerful healing magic, and 5) parallels the self-sacrifice Lilia had for him, that Silver had for Lilia, etc.

Honestly, I think Lilia should move away to the Land of Crimson Long to retire instead of regaining his magic and returning to NRC as a student. That way, Malleus isn’t the “special” OB boy that doesn’t have to still deal with the thing he OB’d over. Have it end on a hopeful note though, like have Idia or Lilia showing Malleus how to text (which is now more feasible due to Malleus’s reduced power) so he can always reach out to Lilia at a moment’s notice. This also fits in with the theme of keeping connected.

Alternative scenario to the previous point: have Lilia be taken away to urgent care and/or in a coma for a while. Let Malleus stew with the weight of what he did. Then maybe he + Diasomnia are called in when Lilia’s unstable and this might be good-bye 💦 Idk, at least then Lilia wouldn’t be dead for all of 5 seconds and Malleus would actually have a period where he’s forced to sit and reflect on what he did. Worrying and praying that Lilia will be saved, promising to the stars that he’ll never act out again if they just save Lilia. (You can still have your power of love saves him moment here!)

Following the OB, give a more balanced view of the repercussions of Malleus’s OB. Tell us how other nations are reacting, show us that some people are suspicious of him + need extra help recovering after the fact (in addition to people who love his UM and want to stay in there longer), etc. The current version works overtime to reassure us that there are zero negative (or even dubious) consequences when, logically, there would be at least some. This includes the main cast. Realistically speaking, they’d at least have some reservations or complicated feelings revolving around what happened in their dreams and how they feel seeing Malleus return. Ultimately, they’d welcome him back but some of them would still snark a bit while others are more forgiving (depends on the character; not all of them would react the same way).

We can still have the party + knighting ceremony at the end, but include some kind of magical broadcast or something where Malleus apologizes to all of Twisted Wonderland and lets them know what steps he intends to take to make amends moving forward. In the original, he only apologized to NRC, which I feel doesn’t cover the scope of the lives he could have affected. And if you’re going to have the other OB boys recite their flaws + how pathetic they were wallowing in darkness + how they’ve changed/are better than that now, grant Malleus that same opportunity here. It would also be great if he could go around and acknowledge the important people in his life, including classmates, to show us that he truly recognizes the value in these connections. I do, however, want to caution: the speech shouldn’t sound like Malleus speedran a character arc and is now without flaws. Malleus should also have some lines where he admits he’s imperfect and may falter, and if that’s the case, then he trusts us to admonish him and set him on the right path. This would show us that he’s willing to give up control to others and that he’s being more receptive to criticism.

Add a nod to Raverne at the end??? Like maybe Malleus wonders where his father is and we get some explanation as to why he didn’t show up in the Castle Wildrose memories but his mom did.

I don't think I actually made many changes here; most of the plot points remain, just change the execution and what the focus is on.

[asterafroditis]

hi hi! may i please request the housewardens with a reader who is exactly like robin (hsr) or sua (alnst)? if you could make reader have robins little wings too ^_^

𐔌 . ⋮ cosmic celebrity .ᐟ ֹ ₊ ꒱

☓┆Housewardens x Robin/Sua gn! reader

𓏵 2196 words

ᝰ.ᐟ headcanons, no pronouns used, fluff

I'm in both the hsr and alnst fandom so this was a great delight to write!! feel free to like, reblog, or comment!

ᝰ.ᐟ masterlist

At first, Riddle doesn’t quite know what to make of you. You’re polite, refined, and carry yourself with an air of grace that even the nobility of his world would envy. Yet, there’s something about you that unsettles him—something he can’t place. It isn’t fear, but rather a quiet awe, as if he’s standing before something larger than life.

Your voice is unlike anything he’s ever heard before. When you sing, it isn’t just a melody—it’s a force, a presence that fills the air and lingers long after the last note fades. Even the roses in Heartslabyul’s garden seem to sway in time with your voice, as if nature itself is listening.

You remind him of a fairytale figure: enchanting, mysterious, and somehow just out of reach. He watches how others react to you—how they’re drawn in, how they lean closer, how even the most unruly of students fall silent in your presence. He tells himself that it’s simply your talent, your charisma, that compels them. But deep down, he wonders—do you ever long for something outside of this attention?

He notices the way you slip away when the crowds get too overwhelming, the way you seek quiet corners, away from prying eyes. It’s in those moments that he sees the real you—unburdened, free from expectations. He never tries to keep you from disappearing when you wish to, but if you ever linger a moment longer beside him, he considers it a victory he will never voice aloud.

Despite your cosmic fame, you never make him feel small. If anything, you listen to him, truly listen, in a way few ever do. And when you sing for him—not for a performance, not for an audience, but simply because he is there—he feels something in his heart shift, something he doesn’t yet have the words for.

And when your wings give a small flutter, as if content to be beside him, he dares to think that maybe, just maybe, you don’t mind lingering near him either.

─────────────────────────

Leona isn’t easily impressed. He’s seen talented people come and go, each believing themselves to be special. But you? You’re different. Not just because of your voice—though he won’t deny it has an effect even on him—but because you exist in a space all your own, untouchable by the world’s expectations.

You remind him of the savanna winds—unpredictable, fleeting, impossible to catch. One moment you’re right beside him, and the next, you’re gone, leaving only the echo of your presence behind. He finds himself watching, waiting, wondering when you’ll slip away again. It annoys him more than he’ll admit.

He doesn’t understand why you’d waste your time with him, lounging in the shade while the rest of the world clamors for your attention. But you do. And when you sing—not on stage, not for a crowd, but just absentmindedly beside him—he feels something deep in his chest, a resonance that lingers long after the sound has faded.

Your little wings shift slightly when you stretch, ruffling just a bit when you let out a sigh of contentment. He watches them, lazily flicking his ear in response. He calls you a show-off, but he knows better. You don’t sing to impress. You sing because it’s simply a part of you, as natural as breathing. And that is what unnerves him most—how effortlessly you weave yourself into the lives of others, how even he isn’t immune to your presence.

He won’t ask you to stay when you vanish, but if you ever return to his side, slipping into the shade like you never left, he won’t say a word about it either.

─────────────────────────

Azul thrives on control, on knowing exactly how to sway people in his favor. Yet, when it comes to you, he finds himself at a loss. You’re an enigma—someone who should, by all logic, be easy to manipulate. After all, you’re a performer, a star, someone who relies on the admiration of others. But the more he observes you, the more he realizes—attention doesn’t hold power over you.

You accept it, yes, but you are not bound by it. You exist above it, outside of it. And that unsettles him.

Your voice—your ability—fascinates him in a way he can’t quite explain. It isn’t just about business, though he tells himself it is. The way your music resonates, how it lingers even in the water, how it affects even the merfolk… it’s unlike anything he’s ever encountered. He wants to understand it, to study it, to figure out what makes it so powerful.

But then you turn that gaze on him—calm, knowing, like you see through every carefully crafted façade—and he wonders if, for once, he’s the one being studied. His eyes dart briefly to your small wings, which shift slightly, responding to something unseen. He wonders if they’re attuned to more than just the music—if they sense lies, deceptions, things he keeps hidden behind his careful smile.

When you disappear, he pretends not to care. But when you return, slipping into the lounge as if you never left, he finds himself relaxing just a fraction. He doesn’t need to own your song—some things, he realizes, are far more valuable when left free.

─────────────────────────

Kalim adores you. From the moment he meets you, he’s utterly captivated—not just by your talent, but by you. You’re like a shooting star, brilliant and fleeting, and he wants nothing more than to keep up with you, to chase that light no matter where it leads.

He doesn’t question your elusiveness, nor does he try to keep you from disappearing. Instead, he cherishes every moment you choose to stay, celebrating your presence as if it’s a festival all on its own.

He asks you to sing, not because he wants a performance, but because he genuinely enjoys your voice. And when you do, he listens—not just to the melody, but to the emotion beneath it, to the way it resonates even in the stillest of nights. Sometimes, he watches how your wings react to your own music, perking up at certain notes, quivering with feeling, as if they too are carried away by the sound.

You surprise him often—not with grand gestures, but with the little things. The way you remember the smallest details, the way you can disappear into a crowd yet always seem to know exactly where to find him. It’s those moments, more than anything, that make him realize just how special you are.

He never asks where you go when you vanish, nor does he try to hold you back. He only hopes that, wherever you wander, you’ll always find your way back to him.

─────────────────────────

Vil understands fame. He understands the weight of being watched, the expectations, the pressure. And so, in you, he sees a kindred spirit—someone who walks the same stage yet does so with a grace that seems almost effortless.

He admires your composure, your ability to captivate with a single note, a single glance. Yet, what intrigues him most is your unpredictability. You are refined, elegant, the picture of poise—until you choose not to be. Until you surprise him with a boldness that catches even him off guard.

Your little wings fascinate him. They move with you as naturally as your breath, fluttering in response to your emotions, betraying what you don’t say aloud. He finds them exquisite—another layer of your beauty, another piece of your ethereal presence. Sometimes, he watches them out of the corner of his eye, noting how they react to praise, to exhaustion, to excitement. They make you all the more mesmerizing, a performer even when you do not intend to be.

You are not a puppet to your audience, nor do you seek validation in their praise. You are simply you, untouched by the world’s expectations. And that, more than anything, is what makes you truly beautiful.

He won’t stop you when you disappear—he, more than anyone, understands the need to step away from the spotlight. But when you return, when you stand beside him once more, he will welcome you with open arms, knowing that true stars are not bound by any stage.

─────────────────────────

Idia isn’t easily drawn to people. He’s more comfortable behind a screen, away from prying eyes and social expectations. Yet, when it comes to you, he finds himself unable to look away.

At first, he assumes you’re just another celebrity, another untouchable figure meant to be admired from afar. But you don’t fit into any neat category. You’re famous—cosmically famous—but you carry yourself like someone who doesn’t care for the spotlight. You let people worship your voice, yet remain untouched by their devotion.

It unsettles him. Because he understands idols, performers, people who thrive on attention. But you? You exist outside of it, separate from it, as if the universe itself bends to your whims. And maybe it does.

The first time he hears your song, it’s through his tablet. Someone must have been playing a recording in the dorm, and the sound carried through the halls like an echo from another world. He nearly dismissed it—until he realized that it wasn’t a recording. It was you.

The sound seeped into every shadow, resonated with every circuit and wire. Even Ortho noticed, his sensors picking up strange energy fluctuations. Your voice wasn’t just heard—it was felt, like an unseen force brushing against the very core of his being.

He doesn’t know how to approach you, not at first. You’re unpredictable. Not in the chaotic, overwhelming way that extroverts tend to be, but in the quiet, calculated way that unnerves him. You’re graceful, elusive—but then you do something bold, something completely unexpected, and he has no idea how to react.

Like the time you appeared in front of him, eyes sharp and knowing, before casually inviting him to a game you knew he liked. No expectations, no pressure—just an invitation. And just like that, he was drawn in before he even realized it. Even now, he wonders if you noticed the way his gaze lingered, not just on your expression, but on the way your wings fluttered ever so slightly, as if encouraging him to follow.

He won’t try to keep you from disappearing. But if you ever return, sitting beside him in the dim glow of his monitors, your wings shifting with each quiet movement, he won’t pretend he’s not watching. Because for the first time in a long time, he realizes that maybe, just maybe, some people are worth looking up from the screen for.

─────────────────────────

Malleus has lived for centuries. He has seen the rise and fall of civilizations, watched as stars burned bright before fading into nothingness. And yet, in you, he finds something truly remarkable.

You are not of his world. That much, he knows. There is something about you—something otherworldly—that sets you apart. Not just in the way you carry yourself, but in the way the very air shifts when you speak, when you sing.

Your voice is unlike any magic he has ever encountered. It resonates with everything around you, weaving into the fabric of reality itself. Even the gargoyles seem to react, as if they, too, can hear the echoes of something far greater than what mortal ears can comprehend.

And then, there are your wings.

They are small, yet they move with a grace that intrigues him. They twitch when you’re amused, flutter when you laugh, still completely when you are deep in thought. He has never seen wings like yours before. They are not like a fae’s, nor are they like those of any creature he has encountered.

He longs to ask about them, to reach out and trace the delicate feathers with his fingertips. But he does not.

You are elegant, refined, a performer in every sense of the word. But then, just when he believes he understands you, you do something unexpected. Something bold. Something uncharacteristically human. And it fascinates him to no end.

You are like a dream, fleeting and untouchable, appearing and disappearing without warning. But he never feels as if you are truly gone. No, your presence lingers—in the wind that carries your song, in the silence that follows.

He does not ask where you go when you vanish, nor does he demand that you stay. He simply watches, waiting, wondering if you will return. And when you do—when your voice fills the air once more, like the whisper of forgotten legends—he listens, entranced, knowing that some songs are meant to be heard only for a moment, yet remembered for a lifetime.

[omoghouls]

ALSO how fucking sad is it that Copia probably went his whole life thinking he was an orphan dropped off at the church- his whole life living under the feet of the Emeritus', fighting for his rankings,lowly decon to bishop to cardinal. Nihil had always been on his back about things, sometimes feeling more like a nagging father than well, a Papa. But, Copia just took it as Nihil being a hard-ass.

All while Sister's and Brother's would sneer and speak in hushed tones about how Copia got special treatment from Imperator- to which Copia would always just tell them if they actually put in the work, maybe she too would let them have a boom box or extensions on projects.

And only to learn the truth, that Nihil and Imperator were his parents- but not in time to actually make something of it. They're phantoms, not tangible, unable to hug or give awkward fist bumps to.

Anyways, Copia is going to have a goddamn aneurism when he learns Perpetua is his twin brother- then probably try to have a brotherly relationship to make up for the lost decades (and I like to pretend Perpetua will not be having it and will simply treat Copia as his boss/Frater even with Copia's attempts to befriend Perpetua)

I just *clenches fist* love the idea of Copia being family oriented but never getting the chance to with his real family

[deadrobinthoughts]

† love talk : kon.

⋆˙⟡ kon-el is not subtle. he does not believe in playing it cool when it comes to love. he loves like he fights; recklessly, completely, without hesitation. his affection is something big, something bold, something you feel in your bones.

⋆˙⟡ request: I was wondering if you could write something in regards to his love language(s)? What do you think they would be and how would he express them? Thanks❤️ ↦ kalico note: give me aaalll the kon requests thanks

♡ physical touch | "c’mere, babe." kon doesn’t just like touch - he craves it. not in an overbearing way, not in a way that demands, but in a way that feels natural, easy, like instinct. his hands find you without him even thinking about it; a lazy arm over your shoulders, fingers tracing the inside of your wrist, the weight of his palm splayed against your back. he pulls you into his lap like it’s second nature, leans into your space like he belongs there, like you belong with him.

his touch is never tentative - it’s confident, familiar, like muscle memory. a hand at your hip as he guides you through a crowd. a teasing squeeze at your thigh when you sit next to him. a chin on your shoulder, breath warm against your neck, arms looping around your waist when he’s feeling extra clingy. and when he kisses you? oh, he goes all in. lazy, lingering, hands roaming like he’s memorizing you all over again.

"you always gotta be touching me, huh?" you tease when he leans against you for the millionth time that day.

he grins, all boyish charm and mischief, but his fingers curl around your wrist, like he needs to feel you there.

"well, yeah."

♡ words of affirmation | "you know you drive me crazy, right?" kon talks big. always has. always will. but when it comes to you, it’s different. his words aren’t just cocky grins and over-the-top flirtation, they’re real. because he wants you to know.

"damn, babe, you look good today."

"what do you mean you ‘don’t get it’? you’re literally the smartest person i know."

"you know you’re kinda my whole world, right?"

he says these things so casually, so naturally, like it’s just a fact of the universe. because to him, it is. he hypes you up constantly. not just about how you look, but about everything - your ideas, your skills, the way you handle things. he sees you, he notices things, and he never lets them go unspoken. and sometimes, it’s not even words - it’s whistles, playful grins, looks that linger just a second too long.

"kon, stop looking at me like that."

"like what?" he grins, tilting his head, eyes glowing with something warm, something impossible to ignore. "like i’m in love? babe, i can’t help that."

♡ acts of service | "i got it, don’t worry about it." kon may not always seem like it, but he pays attention. and when he sees something he can do for you? he just does it. no asking, no expecting anything in return - it just makes sense to him.

he sees your shoelace untied? he crouches and ties it for you before you even notice. you’re cold? his jacket is already around your shoulders. you’ve got a long day ahead? he brings you coffee without you asking. he’s not trying to be smooth about it; it’s just what he does. and if something’s actually wrong? he’s already handling it.

"you don’t have to do everything for me, y’know."

"i know," he shrugs, handing you the sandwich he made while you were too busy to grab food. "but i want to."

♡ gift giving | "saw this and thought of you." kon is not the guy who waits for a special occasion. if he sees something that reminds him of you? he gets it. it could be anything - a small trinket, a cool rock, a stupid little souvenir from a place he flew past. it’s not about the price. it’s about the thought.

sometimes, it’s a leather bracelet he spotted in a shop that looked like something you’d wear. sometimes, it’s a sticker for your laptop because it made him laugh. one time, he literally found a heart-shaped rock on the ground and just handed it to you with a smirk.

"are you seriously giving me a rock right now?" you asked, holding it up.

"uh, yeah? it’s a heart. that’s romantic, babe."

"kon, this is the most ridiculous-"

"shhh, just take my love."

♡ quality time | "i don’t care what we do, as long as i’m with you." kon doesn’t need some grand adventure to be happy. sure, he loves a good date, loves showing off, loves taking you places, but at the end of the day? he just wants to be around you.

if you’re watching a show? he’s right there, arms around you, half-watching, half-watching you. if you’re doing something important? he doesn’t interrupt - just sits nearby, content just being in the same space. you want to go on a walk? he’s already slipping his fingers through yours.

and he doesn’t get bored of you. ever.

"you’re not tired of me yet?" you tease when he shows up at your door for the third time that week.

he just gives you that lazy, knowing smirk, arms crossed over his chest.

"babe. i’m obsessed with you. keep up."

♡ kon-el loves loudly, unapologetically, completely. he loves you the way he fights - without hesitation, without fear, without a single thought of holding back. he teases, he touches, he praises, he gives, he shows up. because for him, loving you is the easiest thing in the world.

[mykoreanlove]

Mommyyyyyyy!! 😍😍😍

This is the same anon who last year requested the special birthday fic of hyunjin x chan x f reader.....

My birthday again...is coming on 14th March.....

I would really love if you make another birthday fic (you know my bias by now).....

Just surprise me by your writing.....because the fic you wrote last year.....has made me got off multiple times (TMI lol) and your writing us too good!! Please write a smut fic for my birthday 🎂.....I trust your creativity and vulgarity (lol)

Thank you again for last year 🥺����☺️

BIRTHDAY BLUES

Birthdays are supposed to be special. They’re supposed to be filled with love, laughter, the warmth of friends who remind you that you matter. That you belong.

Mine is filled with silence.

I stare at my phone, the screen glowing mockingly. The group chat is filled with messages—reminders of the party I never intended to attend, my friends begging me to “come out and have fun” because “twenty-something is the prime of your life!”

What a joke.

I toss my phone onto the bed, staring at the ceiling. My stomach twists—not from hunger, but from something heavier.

It’s been months since I walked in on him—my last mistake, my last heartbreak, tangled up in sheets with another girl. And the worst part? I didn’t even cry. I didn’t scream. I just stood there, staring at the person I’d once imagined a future with, realizing that love—real love—might not exist for me at all.

Because this wasn’t the first time.

No, my heart has been a revolving door, an open invitation for disappointment. Every time, I give. Every time, I try. And every time, I end up alone.

So why celebrate? Why pretend? I’m sick of it.

Tonight, instead of fake smiles and forced happiness, I choose solitude. I slip into something comfortable, grab my keys, and leave my apartment without a word.

The spa isn’t even my idea. It’s a last-minute impulse, something to fill the empty space inside me, even if just for a little while. Maybe the salt water will wash away my sorrows, if not I can drown in them.

The woman at the front desk greets me with a warm smile, her eyes twinkling. “It’s your birthday, isn’t it?”

I blink. “How did you—?” She winks. “Lucky guess.” Before I can respond, she taps on her screen. “We have a special package tonight—highly recommended.”

I almost say no. But then I remember the silence waiting for me at home. The empty bed. The thoughts I don’t want to be alone with.

“…Fine,” I mutter. She hands me a robe, her smile never faltering. “Enjoy.” Little do I know, the night is about to take a turn I never saw coming.

The air is thick with the scent of sandalwood and something faintly floral, a fragrance that settles into my lungs as I lower myself onto the massage table. The linen beneath me is warm, almost cocooning, but my skin prickles from something else entirely. Anticipation, irritation—hell, I don’t even know anymore. I came here to drown out the noise in my head, to escape, even if just for a little while.

I hear the door click open. Soft footsteps pad across the wooden floor. I keep my face nestled in the cradle, seeing nothing but the polished planks below, but then I catch a glimpse—bare feet, strong, the kind that belong to a dancer, not a massage therapist. Then the voice comes.

"First time here?"

Low, rich, like warm honey melting over my skin. I don't answer right away, too caught off guard by the way his voice alone sends a ripple down my spine.

"Something like that," I murmur.

I hear the faint clink of bottles, the whisper of oil being warmed between his palms. Then his hands find my shoulders, firm and unhurried, pressing down with a slow, deliberate force that makes me exhale a breath I didn’t realize I was holding.

His fingers move with precision, gliding over the knots in my shoulders, kneading them into submission. The metal rings on his fingers catch against my overheated skin, cool and solid, leaving a trail of contrast in their wake. It’s unexpected. Strange. I like it.

"You’re tense," he observes, voice tinged with amusement. I let out a breathy laugh. "Gee, I wonder why." He chuckles, the sound deep and velvety. "Well, you came to the right place."

His touch drifts lower, tracing along the dip of my spine, and I shudder. The air between us shifts, thickens. His hands are no longer just massaging—they're exploring, teasing, testing. My breath stutters when his thumbs press into the small of my back, his fingers spreading along the curve of my waist, holding me in place.

"Tell me if it’s too much," he says, voice softer now, rougher. It’s not. It’s nowhere near enough.

His hands slide down, thumbs grazing the dimples just above my hips, his fingertips digging into my body in a way that sends a sharp pulse of heat between my legs. My lips part, a small, unbidden sound escaping, and I swear I feel him still for half a second.

"Sensitive here, too?" he muses, his tone shifting, dipping into something darker. I swallow, pressing my cheek against the table, not trusting my voice. He doesn’t need an answer. He already knows.

His hands move with purpose now, sliding lower, teasing along the curves of my thighs, pushing boundaries neither of us seem willing to acknowledge. His breath is warm against my ear when he leans in.

"Let go," he murmurs, and when his fingers slip just a little further, I do.

His fingers press deeper, the metal of his rings biting against my skin in the most delicious contrast—heat and cold, firm and teasing. My body betrays me, hips shifting instinctively into his touch, a soft gasp slipping free before I can stop it.

Hyunjin hums, low and knowing. "There it is," he muses, his voice brushing against me like silk. "You’re holding back."

I bite my lip, my hands gripping the sides of the massage table. He knows exactly what he’s doing—pushing, testing, waiting for me to break. And I’m so close.

His touch drags up, slow, deliberate, gliding over the curve of my waist before slipping down again, fingers dancing along the inside of my thighs. My breath stutters. My pulse hammers against my ribs.

"You're so tense," he murmurs, and there’s a teasing lilt to his voice, like he already knows the reason why. His fingers knead into the plush of my thighs, a slow, rolling motion that sets every nerve alight.

I arch just slightly, chasing his touch without meaning to. The moment I do, his hands still, just for a fraction of a second. I hear his breath hitch—just barely—but it’s there.

"Relax," he says, but his voice is rougher now, less controlled. I don’t think either of us believe that’s possible anymore. Then his fingers move again, pushing higher, slipping beneath the plush towel barely covering me. A sharp inhale escapes me as he grips my hips, thumbs pressing into my skin with purpose.

"Hyunjin—" My voice is barely a whisper.

"Shhh," he soothes, but there’s nothing innocent about it. His breath is warm as it ghosts over my shoulder, his lips just barely brushing the heated skin there. "Just let me take care of you."

I shudder, my fingers curling into the table, trying to ground myself, but it’s useless. His hands move like they own me, coaxing, pressing, claiming. My world narrows down to this moment—his touch, his voice, the way my body melts under him.

And then his lips finally meet my skin, and I come undone.

Hyunjin’s breath is molten against my skin, each exhale igniting a fire beneath my flesh. His fingers knead into my hips, his grip tightening, possessive. I’m barely breathing, my body stretched out before him like an offering, every nerve ending strung taut, waiting—no, aching—for him to break me apart.

And then, finally, his lips meet my spine.

Soft at first, barely there, just the ghost of a kiss that sends a violent shiver down my back. Then another—open-mouthed, wetter, warmer. His tongue flicks against my skin, teasing, dragging down, down, until I’m trembling beneath him.

"You’re so tense," he murmurs, but there’s something dark in his voice now, something knowing. His teeth scrape lightly at my shoulder, and I gasp. "I think I know how to fix that."

His hands slide lower, trailing the curve of my waist, before slipping beneath the towel that barely covers me. The moment he tugs it away, cool air kisses my exposed skin—but it doesn’t last. His heat is there, following, consuming, and then his hands—God, his hands—are exploring freely now.

"You’re already so wet," he breathes, fingers teasing through my slick folds. He groans, like the discovery is too much for him to handle. "Did I do this to you?"

I whimper in response, pressing my forehead into the pillow, my fingers clutching uselessly at the massage table. His lips curve against my back. "I’ll take that as a yes."

He spreads me with his fingers, dragging his touch through my arousal, slow and deliberate. My thighs tremble as he teases my entrance, circling, pressing—but never giving me what I need.

"Hyunjin, please—"

"Patience, baby," he coos, but his own breathing is uneven now, his restraint barely hanging by a thread. "I want to feel you come apart first." His fingers find my clit, circling in slow, devastating strokes, his other hand gripping my hip to keep me still.

"Fuck," I gasp, my back arching. "That’s it," he praises, dragging his fingers lower, pressing one inside. My walls clench around him immediately, desperate, needy, and he groans at the sensation. "So fucking tight."

He moves, slow and deep, his fingers stretching, stroking, curling inside me with precision, finding that spot that has my body seizing up, my breath coming in broken gasps. His rings are cool against my burning heat, a contrast that only drives me higher.

"You’re close, aren’t you?" he whispers, pressing his body flush against mine, his lips tracing my jaw. "I can feel you squeezing me." I can’t answer—I can only feel. The pleasure is unbearable, an electric current coiling deep in my belly, winding tighter, tighter—

And then he flicks his wrist just right, and I break.

A sharp cry tears from my throat as pleasure floods through me, my body shuddering violently beneath him. Hyunjin curses, his lips finding my shoulder, his fingers working me through it, prolonging it until I’m a trembling, oversensitive mess.

I barely have time to recover before I feel it—him. Hot. Hard. Pressed against me. My eyes flutter open, my head turning just enough to see the hunger in his gaze, the way his chest rises and falls, the way he wants me. "Tell me you want this," he rasps, his voice wrecked.

I don’t hesitate. "I want everything." And then— Hyunjin’s control snaps. One moment, I’m breathless beneath him, trembling from his touch—the next, he’s flipping me onto my back, the cool air shocking against my heated skin. My pulse stutters when I finally take him in.

Disheveled. Chest rising and falling in sharp, uneven breaths. His dark eyes, once playful, are now hungry—like he’s been starving for this, for me. And then he’s on me.

His lips crash against mine, swallowing the gasp that escapes as he presses his weight down, pinning me against the massage table. His tongue slides against mine, hot and demanding, a dizzying mix of silk and sin. He tastes like need—like restraint finally breaking.

"Fuck," he groans against my mouth, his fingers tangling into my hair. "I knew you’d feel like this." I barely have time to respond before his hands are moving again—gripping, spreading, claiming. His fingers dig into my thighs, hitching one over his hip, and God—I can feel him. Heavy. Thick. Pressing against my entrance, teasing, testing.

"Look at you," he rasps, dragging himself through my slick folds, coating himself in my arousal. His forehead drops to mine, his breath ragged. "So fucking wet for me." I whimper, hips bucking, desperate for him to end this torment.

"Hyunjin, please," I gasp, nails digging into his back. His fingers grip my chin, forcing my gaze to meet his. "Say it. Tell me what you want." "You," I breathe, no hesitation. "Inside me." A curse spills from his lips—then, finally, finally, he pushes in.

A sharp moan escapes me as he stretches me open, slow but unrelenting, his cock sinking inch by inch into the heat of me. My body clenches around him instinctively, the sensation blinding—pleasure and pressure twisting into something unbearable.

"Fucking hell," he groans, his head dropping against my shoulder, his hands gripping my thighs so tight I know I’ll have bruises tomorrow. I don’t care. I want them.

He stills once he’s buried to the hilt, his entire body trembling with the effort of holding back. "You feel…" He exhales, his voice wrecked. "You feel so fucking perfect." My fingers tangle into his hair, tugging.

"Move." He obeys.

His first thrust is slow, deep—deliberate. The next is sharper, dragging a cry from my lips. Then he’s pounding into me, his hands gripping my hips, pulling me against each thrust, filling me so completely I can do nothing but take it.

The room is filled with the sound of our bodies colliding, the slick, obscene wetness of my arousal making everything filthy. "That’s it," he grits out, watching me through hooded eyes. "Take it. Be a good girl and take all of me."

My body is unraveling, the pleasure unbearable. "Hyunjin—I’m—"

"I know," he groans, thrusting deeper, angling just right—

And I shatter.

Pleasure detonates inside me, my body arching, my walls clenching around him as wave after wave crashes through me. My vision goes white, my cries echoing through the dimly lit spa room. Hyunjin curses, his rhythm faltering. Then, with a final thrust, he buries himself as deep as he can go, his body shuddering against mine as he loses himself inside me.

For a moment, there’s only the sound of our heavy breathing, the scent of sweat and desire thick in the air. Then Hyunjin chuckles—breathless, satisfied. He brushes a stray strand of hair from my face, his fingers gentle now, reverent.

"Best birthday ever?" he murmurs, smirking. I laugh, still dazed, still wrecked. "You have no idea." His lips curve against my temple. "Oh, I do."

And as he leans in to kiss me again, I know this night is far from over.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxHappy Birthday love 💖 Enjoy yourself lol 💦

[theplantsthrowawayblog]

Four Words, Fourteen Letters.

SYNOPSIS: Wedding bells are ringing…

REBLOGS > LIKES [And if you do reblog, can you maybe reuse my tags so my story gets out quicker? Thank you!]

Proposals || AgedUp!BakusquadBoys X GN!Reader || Headcanons + Drabbles

A/N: after the timeskip, so everyone’s 24 (except Katsuki; he’s 25), probably ooc characters, these get progressively shittier with each one since I’m tired, also I’m from America so a lot of what I describe comes from my own country. my bad. I’m so sorry.

KATSUKI BAKUGOU

Oh. Oh no. He HATES to admit it, but he’s freaking out.

He gets kinda… Distant? On accident, ofc. Less time with you, bc he’s trying to figure out exactly how to propose

Met you during his second year of U.A., when he was 16. That was nine years ago. He woulda done it sooner, he swears… But he’s been scared he’ll fuck up for the past three so

EVENTUALLY, he settles on a ring, settles on a day, settles on everything.

He wasn’t one for the stereotypical “propose at your favorite spot”. No, he took you somewhere new. A place he’d had in mind for so long, but never brought you, since he knew he wanted it to be special

There was a rural sorta town that had one of the most gorgeous flower fields next to it.

.

“Jus’ hold on,” he rolled his eyes at your repeated asks of where you were going as he dragged you forward. He’d pulled you out of town an hour ago. And he was still tugging you along, the calloused pad of his thumb rubbing circles on the back of your hand. “Almost there, I promise.”

Each step felt like it was seconds smaller than they really were, as your boyfriend carefully guided you through the outskirts of town, next to the highway. “Tch, that side o’ me. Whaddaya think I am, a monster?” He gave a half-hearted grin and moved you away from the road, making sure he was the one on the outside.

It wasn’t too far down — just a bit longer. “Keep walkin’, we’re almost done.” He nudged you towards the grass, watching your curious expression as you stepped into the lush green. He guided you further still, spotting the flower field up ahead. Fireflies seemed to light them up, one by one, creating their own intricate designs in the air.

Katsuki had you stand in the middle of a clearing in the flowers, standing behind you as you looked around in awe. “Pretty, ain’t it?” He prompted, earning a nod.

“Hey, look back here.”

Turning around, Bakugou was on one knee, deep red eyes as earnest as you’ve ever seen them.

“I don’t say it a lot, but I really do love you. Everything about you- The way you talk, the way you smile, the way you laugh. Normally, I’d push these feelings back until they went away, but you… You’re different. I could say more, but… Point is, I love you. I really, really do. So… Will you marry me?”

EIJIROU KIRISHIMA

Our favorite shark here will ABSOLUTELY go the “traditional” way, to the point it almost looks like a Valentine’s Day celebration-

Flowers, your choice of sweet (or something else, if you’d prefer), and a lovely lovely candlelit dinner. (he did not make this dinner he took you out to a restaurant 😓 no offense to Kiri but I kinda don’t think he can cook ngl)

he wrote his proposal on a napkin or smth and then left the napkin at home…good luck man

he KNEW he wanted to marry you the second you tried defending him from someone, no matter if it was his own friends or a villain

^ a guy’s partner standing up for their man means he has a REAL manly one and he can NOT lose you.

golden retriever boyfriend turns into golden retriever fiancé turns into golden retriever husband asf

.

Your laughter was music to Kirishima. God, he loved the sound. He could go on for hours about why he loved you if he wasn’t careful. Which is exactly why he had a script.

Well-… Used to have*. He left it at home, and it was way too late to go back and get it now.

The employee led you both up to the VIP section — “See? Told ya I was doin’ something special!” — and seated you in a private booth, serving both of you pre-ordered food. This restaurant was a regular for both of you, but it was different tonight. Probably just because Eijirou had bought you both VIP passes… Yeah.

You ate in a comfortable silence, letting the clock tick away at your time. It was then that you realized nobody else was up here. You looked at him quizzically; his quirk was starting to jut out of the skin on his forearms. Your gaze turned to one of concern, and you leaned forward to touch the jagged points.

That gaze always, always made something in his stomach flip.

He reached into his pocket and carefully placed the cool metal in your hand, stopping you from touching him. He spit out everything on his mind right then and there, with the words tumbling out of his mouth like a waterfall.

“Listen, baby, I know it’s sudden, but you know I love you with all my heart, right? You’re the first thing on my mind in the morning and the last thing I think of when I go to sleep. You drive me insane in the best way possible! And- I- Just- Marry me, please?”

DENKI KAMINARI

we thought katsuki was nervous. oh. oh dear god thst is NOTHING compared to denki.

he short circuits when he even THINKS of putting a ring on your finger- The ones he ordered were silicon, to avoid shocking both you and himself and everyone else.

cracks jokes throughout the day to try and ease the blow when you reject him (which is what he thinks is gonna happen)

he tries to recreate his first date with you, hoping to propose at the end instead of your first shared kiss being at the end

he shakes like a leaf throughout the entire thing 😭 poor man

when he actually gets to the proposal speech he starts RAMBLING. he yaps on and on about everything that’s so perfect about you that you have to very gently remind him that he’s trying to do something (or not, y’know, get your compliments)

.

You carefully swung your hands together as you held his, trying to ease Denki’s nerves. You didn’t exactly know what he was nervous about, but you wanted to help him. He seemed weirdly attentive to your hands today. Idly tracing little circles on your knuckles, kisses on the back of your hand, carefully bringing your hand up to cup his cheek.

“Hey, babe?” He choked, swallowing the lump in his throat. He gave what was supposed to be a charming grin, but it turned into more of an anxious one. “D’ya wanna recreate our first date?”

You blinked. Then nodded. That wasn’t what you were expecting him to say, but you weren’t complaining. Your first date had gone great, so who’s to say it wouldn’t after this long? You remembered the order you went in so well — café, arcade, walk in the park, first kiss. Something simple, something small, but you’d enjoyed every moment of it.

His jokes at each location were cheesy, which you expected from him. The light caught in his hair and highlighted that bolt-shaped streak you liked to try and trace from time to time, whenever he was laying himself on top of you when you went to bed.

“Hey, can we sit down for a minute?” You didn’t get a chance to respond before Denki was carefully guiding you towards a bench in a secluded area of the park. He leaned in like he was going to kiss you. But it never happened. Instead, he took your hand in his, shakily lowering himself to the ground as he anxiously opened the box in his other palm.

“I love you, and I always have, and I honestly don’t know why it took me so long to do this- I guess I was scared or something, I dunno- But you’re just so… Perfect, and I can’t let you go, so I wanna make you mine forever, and kiss you everyday, and hug you, and just be as perfect as I can for you, because you’re just that great in my eyes. So, before I get too excited and talk too much, just answer this one question — Will you marry me?”

HANTA SERO

honestly, he’s not too flashy with his proposal.

he wants something small, something small that can mean oh so much.

yes, he did take you out somewhere — some kind of vacation for the two of you.

but the moment itself was quiet, probably at night, with his usual smirk that you’d grown to love

what you didn’t know was that his smirk was hiding all his anxiety.

he had a good poker face; could you blame him for using it?

either way, his proposal’s quiet and probably whispered while he runs his fingers up and down your side

.

The night was quiet as you sat on the ledge. Staring out into the ocean’s dark depths, wondering what was beyond those waters. You knew there was more land, but what was it like?

The shuffling of the grass behind you made you turn, only to find your boyfriend, Sero, coming up to sit next to you. His feet hung over the edge as he watched the water with you, his arm lazily wrapping around your waist and his hand coming to rest on your hip.

“It’s pretty out, ain’t it?” He hummed, only earning a nod in agreement. He didn’t mind. He just traced circles on the fabric covering your skin — round and round, kinda like the ring in his pocket.

You leaned into his weight, tucked under his arm, listening to the crickets chirping and the waves crashing and the occasional gull that decided to be awake this late and cry out in the night.

But then Hanta’s drawling voice was in your ear, his hand coming up and interrupting your line of sight, instead focusing on the glinting silver band in front of you.

“You’re awful pretty, y’know that? Perfect little thing. I’m not gonna let anybody else have you, angel. And to prevent anybody takin’ you from me, I’m gonna ask you: Would you do me this honor and marry me?”

tags: @https-bakugo // @justletmestayawakeatthispoint2 // @vexter-the-comedian

[krokusplays]

A Rising Dawn - Chapter 1

Mydei x (female) Reader

Fic Rating: Mature (will change for a later chapter)

Chapter Length: 4.5k

Fic Status: Ongoing

Tags/Warnings: Fluff, Romance, Hurt/Comfort, Falling in Love, Learning to Trust, Sweet, Wholesome, basically no angst, no use of y/n, smut in a later chapter, set before the events of 3.0

Author's Notes: This entire fic was supposed to be a long one-shot with a lot of scenes that made it seem like a montage. It turned out much longer than anticipated, though, so I'm splitting it up. We're gonna end up with probably around 30k words altogether. Anyway, this fic is really dear to me, so I hope you'll like it <3

AO3 Link

Summary: In the Holy City, daily life remained the same for the citizens despite the threat of the Black Tide lurking beyond the city's borders.

But sometimes, a brief encounter can bring about a new dawn for its residents. Chrysos Heirs and regular citizens alike.

Even more so when the Golden Thread has tied your fates together a long time ago.

The breeze remained subtle on this early Entry Hour in the streets of Okhema, the air crisp and clean while carrying a hint of something vaguely floral as Kephale’s light flooded the streets.

Nothing truly changed. People went about their daily lives, working and striving for tomorrow, not knowing how many days there were still to come.

While Mydei appreciated the constant, the sense of peace and normality the people - his people among them - found within these streets, the lack of change, of feeling rooted in place unable to move forwards, always left a bitter taste in his mouth that not even the blessings of Phagousa could wash off.

Few duties waited for him that day. Attending Lady Tribios’s class, following up with a Kremnoan young man who had asked for his assistance some days ago, and patrol duty during Parting Hour.

He hoped during patrol he could get rid of the itch in his veins. Though, at these times, maddened Titankin were not a rarity to find in the outskirts of Okhema.

Until then, ample time to ponder and look after his detachment.

Marmoreal Market buzzed with life. The scent of fresh fruits mixed with the aroma of freshly baked bread as the stalls and shops came to life and greeted the people as they began their daily lives in the city.

Even at this hour, Marmoreal Diner was crowded, people waiting in line for a seat or a special breakfast to take home with them. He spotted some Kremnoans among them and he couldn’t fault them. Kyros’s offered the best bread and olive oil in all of Okhema if one did not have the muse to make it from scratch themselves.

While Mydei didn’t favor the crowds around here, the lively atmosphere stirred something within him. He saw the smiles on people’s faces, the excitement of children frolicking about, the relief of the employee’s as they continued - that they could continue- business yet another day.

Laughter and joy.

Fun.

Rare as it was to come across during these dire times, a part of himself - hidden behind walls of duties and responsibilities and questions no one else but him should deal with and which kept him away day in and day out - longed to engage in it all the same.

He knew his place.

In this town.

For the Kremnoan people.

In the Flame-Chase Journey.

People passed him by as he crossed the street, some greeted him, some acknowledged him, others avoided him. All the same, another constant in the Holy City. It mattered not but he greeted them back with a nod, spared words only for the little children that brushed past him as they indulged in their games.

The Fruit and Veg Store invited everyone with fresh and colorful fruits displayed on plates and in bowls that made them look like a painting come alive rather than real food. One didn’t have to know their way around vegetables and fruits to recognize the quality and care Demetria, the store owner, put into her work.

The elderly lady chatted with a customer, handling the balance coins on the scale with a cheerful smile on her face.

Though the deep red and luscious pomegranates, resting in bronze-colored bowls on a long table behind Demetria caught his gaze more so than the rest of the produce or the people surrounding the store.

Until a hand appeared on one of the fruits disrupted his staring.

As he followed the hand, delicate and too small to grab the fruit with one hand, up a slender arm, he saw you.

Your face remained calm. The focus on your work simmered in your gaze, but it did not show in the curve of your brows or the line of your mouth. You placed two of the pomegranates in a little basket, where they joined an array of apples, before you put the basket on the small table next to Demetria.

You retreated into the back of the store immediately, working on arranging the fruits and vegetables with a care to avoid damaging them that looked as meticulous as devoted to your task as Mydei was used to see from Demetria. Surrounded by the shelves and tables, the crowd in Marmoreal Market didn’t reach you as you kept working, wiping your hands on your apron when the warm air around you showed itself on your skin.

Why his gaze lingered, he could not tell.

Maybe because he frequented the store so often and he’s never seen you before? A relative of the store owner? Simply a new employee? Maybe because such little changes occurred so rarely in the daily lives of Okheman’s these days that it caught a person’s eye naturally so?

Maybe because a spark in the back of his mind whispered that you seemed familiar to him, though the thought sounded odd, so Mydei dismissed it and continued on his way.

His gaze didn’t find yours nor did it linger on you again when he bought his own pomegranates and indulged the store owner in the smalltalk she so enjoyed engaging in.

———————

Mydei spotted you at the store almost regularly after that first vague encounter. You tended to the fruits and vegetables in the back of the store, focused and not paying much attention to the crowds and buzz around you. Colorful patches stained the white apron you wore over your dress. Mydei couldn’t help but think they made you look more like an artist spending your time painting and drawing but not arranging and selling fruits.

The only time you came out from the back was when you placed a customer’s order on the table by the owner’s side, only to retreat again.

A peculiar nature given you found yourself in the busiest place of all of Okhema.

When Mydei approached the store days later again, Demetria thanked him for his patronage as she usually did but spared him the smalltalk. Too many customers, too much money to make. Despite her kindness and dedication she was a business lady through and through.

He didn’t mind. The sooner his order got processed the earlier he could leave the store and avoid the gazes he drew whenever he made his way here. He crossed his arms in front of his chest while he waited.

Neither a word left your lips nor did any hesitation appear in your steps, even though he caught a flash of something - recognition? Remembrance? - cross your eyes as you threw a glimpse up at him when you approached the store’s front with a bag in your hands.

You placed the bag on the small table next to Demetria. Mydei leaned down to pick it up before you managed to pull back again. Your fingers still lingered on the bag when he grabbed it and the flash of panic on your face made him frown.

No physical contact, no skin on skin, not the metal of his gauntlets on your skin, not even fabrics brushing and yet your hands recoiled as if you got burned by the flames of Kremnos’s Soul-Forging Zone.

That terror-stricken expression faded an instant later and you tried to hide the trembling of your hands by clasping them together in front of you.

Mydei watched you with a frown on his face, gaze hard and his mouth a straight line, as you bowed slightly - an instinct to remain respectful to your customer? - and retreated back into the store as if you found safety there. Safety from him.

People being intimidated - scared - by him was not an all too rare occurrence. He was aware to be not the most approachable man, people never shook his hand in greeting, many cowered at the mere sight of him - the Kremnoan beast, a brute. Not something he cared about much, but it has been a long time since anyone has been this blatant in their display of it in front of him.

He didn’t comment on it. The paper of the bag crackled in his his grasp as he left the store and crowded area of the Holy City.

And yet, as he crossed Marmoreal Market in the Parting Hour on his way home many hours later and his eyes fell upon the closed store, he couldn’t help but wonder what your issue has been.

Prejudices still prevailed to this day and their eradication has been everything he has striven for since he and the Kremnoan detachment joined Okhema.

He tended to overthink these things a lot, he knew that.

But if anything, his time here has proven him that his concern and wariness was justified. His first months and years in this city have been plagued by preventing assassinations - on children - of his people, by witnessing discriminations in his people’s everyday lives and filing complaints and seeking audiences with the Council. While the situation has improved, notably when Lady Aglaea handled matters herself, these bad clouds lingered in the corners of the streets still.

Was that what it was for you? A prejudice? Or had it nothing to do with his heritage and origin at all?

He made a small sound in the back of his throat and averted his gaze.

Yes, he tended to overthink these things a lot.

———————

His duties and missions as a Chrysos Heir kept him away from the city for a few days but when he returned, nothing has changed.

A pleasant outcome, one would say. Given the impending catastrophe, to see the people buzzing and thriving despite the situation in the dark outside of Okhema was… relieving.

Yet, it also showed a lack of progress on this tedious and long-lasting journey. Castrum Kremnos still remained lost in the fog, Nikador’s Titankin have been driven further towards Okhema in their madness. The safety he sought for his people in this city was as fragile as glass…

Mydei’s hand clenched into a fist, though he released the tension the moment he stepped into the streets. It wasn’t his place to reveal his frustrations to the people when they deemed them the only glimmer of hope this world had left.

Marmoreal Market came into view and the scent of Golden Honeycakes and freshly cut fruits reached his nose before he even rounded the corner.

A part of him tingled, arose that desire to indulge in the joys the pancakes could provide temporarily, though he had no time for it. He needed to report his mission’s results to Aglaea and then a hot bath would do wonders for his muscles after spending so much time in the Evernight of Amphoreus.

A pomegranate in-between duties had to make due for now. It’s been a few days since he’s had one and waiting until tomorrow was not worth it just so he could prepare juice from it.

And pre-made juice didn’t scratch that craving in his soul for it.

He saw you at the store, but instead of your usual spot in the back you stood by the side of the store, a small group of kids surrounding you. All talking over each other with big eyes and smiles as if they all had to tell you they’ve seen or experienced the most amazing thing today while you were at work.

You were talking to them. He couldn’t make out any words in the chatter and laughter but your face remained calm, a gentle smile as you engaged with them. Whatever was happening this wasn’t the first time you dealt with these children.

Not a scene he expected to witness.

Yours, perhaps?

Though he didn’t deem you old enough to have children of that age yet. He paused that thought. Lady Tribios came to mind and he almost grimaced at himself.

Looking young didn’t mean a lot in Amphoreus while demigoods existed.

Mydei approached Demetria but his gaze didn’t leave those kids surrounding you. He watched how you took off your apron and placed it in a box in the back of the store, all the while not ceasing to talk to the children who not once lost an ounce of their energy and cheerfulness.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Demetria,” you said and it was the first time he heard your voice. Clear and tinged with the contagious laughter of the boys and girls eagerly waiting for you. Pleasant.

“Take care, dear,” the old lady said and she watched how you left with the kids until you vanished around the street corner. Mydei followed your form as well. Once the chatter of the children faded, Marmoreal Market seemed strangely empty.

Demetria sighed, a content smile on her lips. Mydei didn’t say a word. He knew the store owner was about to share her thoughts with him as she often did with customers anyway.

“Endearing, is it not?” she asked. “These kids pick her up from work a lot.”

“These? So not hers?” he asked before he could stop himself. He crossed his arms in front of his chest.

“Oh no, no.” Demetria laughed as if Mydei had told her a joke.

“Then, who are they?” he asked. If only to satiate the owner’s need for conversation - not to quell some curiosity of his own. Undoubtedly not.

“Orphans, mostly. They almost all lost their parents to the war in one way or another.” Demetria’s smile grew smaller, weighed down with the mourning and grief of remembering the tragedies she’s no doubt experienced over the years herself. “She gives them a chance to come together and have some fun once she’s done with her wok.”

Demetria looked up at him and he met the elderly woman’s gaze. “Children should never be the ones to suffer the consequences of the adults’ actions.”

“Indeed.”

Children should not suffer. They shouldn’t have to pay the price for the failures and mistakes of their parents and adults who failed to protect them and willfully put them through pain and misery for their own selfish gains.

His jaw clenched and he found it difficult to relax. He hoped the elderly woman remained ignorant to the sudden tension in his body.

He could still recall.

The cold and might of the water, of his father and his guards blurring and then fading from view as the depths grabbed a hold of him from the neverending abyss, engulfing him, suffocating him until he drew a new breath - painful, agonizing - and started the cycle anew.

Young as he had been - an infant - yet that image stayed vivid in his mind until this day.

He closed his eyes for a moment to shake off the memory. It didn’t leave. It remained in the back of his mind like waves crashing against a cliff. He forced himself to look ahead, down the street where you had left with the kids.

Admirable. Regardless of that first and odd impression of you, what you were doing deserved his respect.

After tending to his remaining duties for the day and while on his way to finally have that hot bath, he crossed Kephale Plaza. At this hour of day it grew quieter with less people gathering here, though a group of children would always drown out any other noise.

You sat on the small wall in front of the trees and flowers, girls and boys in front of you. There were more now than before. They didn’t hang on every word you said, more did they appear to be busy with each other, chatting and playing, while running up to you to let you know something or to drag you into their games.

Your smile never wavered.

Nor did that expression on your face.

Serene. Content. Happy.

No matter the reasons for why you were doing this, dedicating your time and efforts to children you perhaps did not even know, you enjoyed it. The appreciation for such an act of kindness - altruism - towards children flourished among the flames and burning blood surging through his veins, showing only in the vague upwards twitch of his lips.

Mydei didn’t linger as he passed the plaza.

———————

Seeing you at the store has become a regular occurrence, Demetria employed you after all.

What he didn’t come to expect was to see two Kremnoan children at the store. He’s seen them before. No orphans, both their parents were alive and warriors of Kremnos - no, Okhema - and people he valued. He’s played with these two kids before. The boy liked to train, asked for Mydei’s approval all the time, the girl took more after the Okheman’s, she danced and sang, playing around the theater all the time but wasn’t opposed to fighting either.

He didn’t expect to see them - two Kremnoan kids - here. Not after his first impression of you, writing off your reaction to prejudice - intimidation - as there were no Kremnoan kids in the group the other day either.

He stayed back, opted to observe rather than engage and allowed his curiosity to rule his actions.

The children lingered by the side of the store, fidgeting - eager and excited - as they stretched their necks to see into the store to watch what you were doing.

He tilted his head. You balanced a pomegranate in one hand, a knife in the other. This wasn’t your first time cutting one. The cuts were deliberate, the pressure rooted in experience - as expected from someone who made fruits their income. The deep red seeds anything but glowed in your hand, even from a distance he could make them out, a reminder why he only ever purchased them at this store.

You threw parts of the peel away and took the open fruit to the boy and the girl who waited for you as if expecting birthday gifts. As they popped the seeds into their mouths they talked to you. All their words - and your replies - got lost in the sea of voices flooding the market but the children’s smiles sounded as loud as the songs of victory after the Kremnoan army returned home from battle.

He smiled at the scene.

Witnessing their happiness came akin to a small victory indeed. A little - but precious nonetheless - moment to show him that the decision he’s made a long time ago has been the right one after all.

You ruffled the boy’s hair - to which he pouted and stemmed his hands in his hips - and after a few more exchanged words, the kids turned around and left, waving and laughing. You waved after them before retreating back into the store, a subtle smile on your lips, though a hint of something - amusement? Surprise? Approval? - sprouted in his chest when you popped a few of the remaining pomegranate seeds into your own mouth before you discarded the remains in the trash.

———————

There were days when the Fruit and Veg store found itself flooded by customers. More so than usual. Mydei came to know this always happened when the seasons changed or after the weekly delivery arrived.

Such as today.

Demetria never lost her smile as she dealt with customer after customer. Neither did you, even though you barely ever came out from the back of the store, opting to prepare the baskets and bags of orders and place them on the ground and table next to the owner for further handling.

It was then that he noticed how you avoided any contact to anyone. Not just avoided. You made an effort to not even allow your dress to brush along the clothes of a customer, not even Demetria herself. He frowned and yet, it rendered his first impression of you utterly void.

He didn’t dwell on the thought, it was stupid to begin with - too much overthinking, maybe a premature judgment of his own - but he couldn’t help but to feel… at ease anyway.

It, however, didn’t explain why you were going out of your way to avoid physical contact.

Mydei was reluctant to it himself, but - the battlefield aside - in the crowds of a city one could not avoid running into people, brushing up against them.

Your behavior at least looked unusual enough to make him pause, to make him think.

And he had no idea why he even pondered the reasons at all.

Mydei approached the store, got in line as any other citizen. He easily towered over the others, and the quiet mumbling of people around him reached his ears. He paid them no mind as he waited.

After another customer left, Demetria turned around to you and called out your name - the sound of it repeated in his head as if it was somehow important information - and you looked up from where you were gathering apples from the bowls as if surprised anyone required your attention. Amusing. Especially when you were working.

“Dear, please help out here for a bit,” Demetria said, a chuckle accompanying her words. “We have a lot of customers today.”

You didn’t hesitate to follow her request, though you fidgeted a whole lot more as you stood next to her and took orders as the owner herself did. Your smile polite, the curve of your brows soft, your shoulders lowered.

Only the subtle trembling of your hands revealed your anxiety at the risk of facing physical contact - voluntarily or not - by working in the front of the store.

He furrowed his brows. Unnatural behavior. Never without reason and he still wondered why he even thought about it. Yet again.

Demetria was deeply engaged in a customer who seemed to purchase the entire store’s stock of figs, so when it was his turn, you had to tend to him.

You stood in front of him with a smile on your face, a hint of patience surrounding you that wasn’t anywhere noticeable in the busy store around you. Nor in the unease in your hands and feet.

“Sir, what can I do for you?” you asked him, your head tilted slightly.

You had… pretty eyes, he acknowledged as you met his gaze. They reminded him of a field of flowers in the earliest rays of Kephale’s light. Gentle. Kind.

An expression that led him to assume that caring for children came easy to you. Made it easy for them to approach you. A sincerity that wasn’t shielded or covered by masks or facades.

Respectable. Admirable even.

It made him believe you either forgot your first reaction to him or didn’t pay it any mind, choosing to move on or try again instead. Something within him stirred at the sentiment. Even so, he didn’t mind.

“Pomegranates, please,” he said, “four of them.”

You nodded and retreated to the back, bagged four of the fruits before coming back to him. When you handed him the bag you held it at the top, preventing any chance of possibly brushing his hands or even clothes when he took it from you.

Attentive. Though, he wasn’t entirely sure if he approved of your actions or his own.

“That’s 400 balance coins,” you said and he handed you the money by letting it fall into your open palm, as you’ve done with the customers before from what he’s witnessed. You certainly knew your way around your… issue.

“Lord Mydei!”

The calls - two voices in unison - made him pause before he had managed to turn away from the store. When he looked behind him, he spotted the same two Kremnoan kids running towards him he’s seen the other day at your store.

They were smiling and his shoulders felt lighter immediately at the realization.

“What is it?” he asked.

“Are you buying pomegranates, Lord Mydei?”

They beamed at him as if they just made the discovery of a lifetime when even children knew the significance of pomegranates for Kremnoans. A child’s mind worked in fascinating ways - although he pondered how much of his own consumption of it was because of his enjoyment of it rather than tradition.

He allowed himself to smile. “But of course.”

“Woah!” the kids exclaimed before he could elaborate. He chuckled. A sound that resonated in his chest but never made it past his lips.

“Now, what are you two doing here by yourself?”

“We wanted to ask her for games,” the girl said and pointed at you behind him. He did turn his head, saw the amused smile on your face as you waved at the kids while taking another customer’s payment out of his peripheral vision.

Your popularity among these kids was… astounding.

“But when you’re here, Crown Prince, can you train with us?” the boy asked. His big round eyes contained a fire that was hard to come by even among adults. Sheer determination. And even more so, courage.

“What do your parents say about this?”

“They are alright with it!”

His lips twitched upwards. These kids didn’t know he would be here so that was a lie. He tilted his head at them.

“Really?”

They both froze until a moment later the girl began to sway from side to side, her cheeks as red as a pomegranate. The boy’s cheeks rivaled the fruit’s as well but he held Mydei’s gaze nonetheless.

Impressive.

Deep inside, Mydei wished more people would dare to meet him face to face like this. This little boy had more of Nikador’s virtues than most adults ever would. That alone was praiseworthy and his resolve to send the two kids home faltered.

“Alright, not really,” the girl said, pouting.

“But they know we were going to meet her!” the boy added, pointing at you again. The girl looked up and tapped the boy’s shoulder.

“Oh, oh, she can come with us,” she said. The boy’s eyes widened.

“Yeah, she can watch us get stronger!” he agreed.

“I can do what?” your voice sounded behind Mydei and he looked to the side as you stepped next to him. The crowd of the store had dissipated a bit by now.

“We wanna train with Lord Mydei and you can be there too and watch us,” the girl explained.

Mydei saw on your face that the idea caught you off guard, though he wondered if it was the training part or accompanying him that rendered you speechless for a moment.

For a short moment only however because the smile returned to your face, your expression softening. “I still have a lot of work to do here, I can’t leave just yet.”

“Then after work.”

“We’ll see later, alright?”

To the kids it was more than enough of an answer and they turned to him again, their eyes wide.

“Please, Lord Mydei? We’ll be good and go home afterwards right away. Promise!”

He relented. He had the time to spare and indulging these kids for a bit would both provide a distraction for him and make the children’s day so much better. In the end, he never could fully decline a kid’s request.

Not when nothing harmful was involved in any capacity.

And training them came more akin to playing House but with wooden swords rather than actual sparring.

Whether or not you would tag along, he couldn’t tell as you had to tend to your work again, and your reply had been ambiguous at best. The kids wanted you there. And him? He didn’t know.

He supposed it wouldn’t make much of a difference either.