I've Rejected Affection For Years And Years 

Hey stayblr, I've been thinking of ways we can unite to help Palestine in the current genocide. With Israel closing borders again, no aid is allowed in and local organizations on the ground urgently need our help. So, i thought of rallying to raise donations for Palestine, big or small, as every dollar counts and can truly make a difference. Our initial target is to raise 1500 dollars, to be split between Care for Gaza and UNRWA. We’ll raise the target goal according to our progress!

For transparency, donations will be received through my Kofi, with daily updates on our progress. Here are the links to UNRWA’s and Careforgaza’s work in Gaza!

Palestinians are saying that this is the worst phase of the genocide yet. They need as much of our help as we can give them, so please, let’s all stand together for this.

If you cannot donate

- please reblog and share around!

- stream hind’s hall (all proceeds will be donated to unrwa!

update as of 18/05/2024- [11 p.m.] : 1035 dollars!!

ty for this 😔

I need more of this genre of Minho

Random Minho gifsets [5/∞]

· . ˚ 𝟭𝟭:𝟯𝟲 𝗣.𝗠. — Hwang Hyunjin is no stranger to compliments.

How couldn’t he be, when his grip on every stadium is one of titanium, when he looks and sounds like a figment of a sweet dream, when he is all that he is? And he loves the flattery. He’ll bow graciously and utter his thanks, his head lowered just far enough to conceal the smirk on his lips that says: oh, I know.

But it’s different with you. Maybe it’s because he’s clung to everything you’ve said to him since the day you met, curating a mental archive of the greatest love he'll ever know. Maybe it’s because he feels the urge to smile just looking at your face. Maybe he's that much of an enamored idiot that your praise makes him feel like he’s touching the sky.

Whatever the reason, your compliments destroy him, and tonight is no exception.

Hyunjin’s head is hovering over the sink, headband holding back his hair, hands slathering cleanser over his skin, when his phone goes off. It’s unusual for him to receive emails so late, and he rinses and dries himself with a touch of irritation. Surely it can wait until tomorrow. But the annoyance subsides when Hyunjin starts to read: photos came out early . . . congratulations again . . . will be in touch with next steps.

Behind him, the bathroom door opens, and in walks a figure with tired eyes and a matching headband over their hairline. Hyunjin feels arms circle around his waist and a familiar warmth press up against his back. “I ran out of face soap,” you mumble.

Without looking up from his screen, Hyunjin picks up his cleanser and holds it by his hip, so that you only need extend your fingers to snatch it away. You place a kiss on his cheek as a quick way of thanks, bringing a small, helpless smile to his face.

The next few minutes are spent in silence, save for the sounds of your washing. It isn’t until you glance in the mirror and see your boyfriend’s fascination with his phone that you notice something’s up.

“What’re you looking at?” You hum, curious.

Hyunjin’s reply is casual. Too casual. “The photos from the Versace shoot came out early.”

At this, you whip around to look at him. Your face is illuminated with a smile that stretches from ear to ear, the fatigue in your eyes replaced with pure anticipation. A mysterious warmth begins to spread through Hyunjin, starting in his chest and traveling as far as his cheeks, dusting them pink with embarrassment. (And so Hyunjin’s destruction begins.)

“Show me,” you demand.

Hyunjin tilts his screen in your direction, finally unable to quell the proud grin that he’s been biting back for so long. You nestle into his side and wrap your hands around his tricep, as if looking to hang onto something for emotional support, but nothing could've prepared you for what you see: silky dark hair pinned back by a pair of white sunglasses, facial features so ethereal that they rival the sculptures of Michelangelo himself, jewelry and suit jacket dull in comparison to his golden complexion, all rearranged into poses and expressions so confident and effortless that one would think he’s been doing this for years.

It is too much for you.

The noise that comes out of your mouth is terrifying—a mixture of a moan and a gasp except you’re being mauled by a mountain lion, or something—and Hyunjin starts to laugh, the forceful, involuntary kind that seizes his entire being.

“Are you kidding me?" You let go of his arm to grab hold of his phone with both hands, bringing it within inches of your face. "Is this real life?”

“What sound did you just make—?" Hyunjin is now sliding down the wall, barely able to get his words out. "Wait, I can’t breathe, stop—”

You ignore him, and Hyunjin genuinely thinks he’s going to dissolve when he sees that you’ve zoomed in far enough for his face, just his face, to take up the entire screen. “This can’t be real,” you mutter. “You can’t be real.”

“Shut up, you idiot—”

Hyunjin suddenly feels a pair of hands on his cheeks, and you start littering kisses all over his face, first on his forehead, then his temple, then his nose, his jaw, weaving words in between to form a sentence: you are the most beautiful man in the whole world, Hwang Hyunjin. He disappears into a new fit of laughter, his cheeks sore from how hard he’s beaming, his ears burning crimson. He feels like he might burst, he’s so happy, so in love.

You then pull away for a breather, and whatever plea for mercy Hyunjin has prepared goes forgotten when it occurs to him how close the two of you are, with you basically straddling him and wisps of your hair tickling his face. And you look stunning right now, barefaced and blushing and radiant. His laughter dissipates at last, leaving behind only a helplessly fond smile that turns his eyes to crescents.

“My prince,” you whisper, bumping your nose lightly against his. “Mine.”

He physically cannot go a second longer without kissing you, leaning in and sealing his grin against yours with the intensity of an oath. Yours. Forever.

“Thank you, baby."

(The truth is that Hyunjin destroys you first. It is only natural that you return the favor.)

i miss you; i still do

kazuha x reader angst

a/n: this is based off promise by laufey cause my friend said told me to do it xc (not proofread btww, if there are any misspellings pls tell me :p)

wc: 902

enjoy reading!

italic for flashbacks normal for the present bold for emphasis

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They said it's easy to move on.

At least that's what I always said to myself after recalling all summer evenings by the shore. We shared our first passionate kiss as well as a night full of bliss and the thrashing waves as our musical background.

At sunset, not many people were hanging around the beach. A girl tugs a boy to the coast of the water "Wait! Don't do that~" He playfully whines as he tries to pull himself away from the calm tides, the sand imprints their puerile acts as they blithely ignore their surroundings.

"Why not?" Giggles erupt from the girl, a sweet melody that strikes a core inside the man's heart. He pulls her close to him, her back hitting his chest as they face the view of the setting sun. She gazes up at his face, realizing that her action caused their faces to be close to kissing. "Your dress is pretty. I don't want you to ruin it." he grins adoringly.

She blinks slowly, feeling her e/c eyes dreamily gape at the pair of red staring right back at her. "M'kay." she breathes, mouth dangerously nearing his. The overbearing weight of the atmosphere dawns upon them, as they shut their eyes, closing the gap between their lips and enjoying the serenity of the moment. Passion clashed at every second as if time had slowed down and everything else was thrown out the window. Just the two of them and the picturesque view of the sun below the horizon, the azure sky mirroring the grandeur of the boundless sea. 

That evening made me realize what we had was more than just a crush, you've bewitched me. 

Your compliments were sweet, but the last time I heard your praise was long ago. Up until now your pretty name— Kazuha, always brings me joy when mentioned. And as our lips met in a final embrace, the passionate fervor had me craving for more. I reached after yours as you leisurely pulled away.

Two friends lost in paradise. Stuck in their little world ensconced under the moon's silvery glow that hangs in the sky while they point to the stars as if they are engaged in a celestial dance. "Kazuha, you told me you know what the wind whispers. Can you tell me what it's saying right now?" a hand ran down through her h/c locks, gently massaging it now and then; it almost lulled the lass to sleep, but eager to hear his reply, she kept her eyes open.

"It's okay." He says with the softest tone while his hand on her hair stops moving and settles on the small of her back. An almost inaudible sound of confusion comes out of her mouth, "What do you mean?"  "Everything will be okay, that's what it said."  A radiant smile makes its way to the girl's face, eyes slightly drooping as her heart beats in trepidation and hope. She gathers her last ball of energy to voice her question, "Will I see you again?"  

The question seemed to hover in the air as if it were a foggy mist, casting an almost tangible wave of anticipation upon the girl as her eyes lingered on their now intertwined fingers, eyes filled with interest and worry. "Don't worry, I'll always be here to see you. A countless times over." 

Was that your way of saying goodbye? You hold me in your arms spouting absolute lies. You treat me like a fool— an idiot to eagerly believe that we have something more and vanish from my life like the swift air as though your lips weren't engraved on mine. As if I was but a memory stored in the recesses of your mind. 

A few weeks before, I passed by the wooded Rosemary Avenue, and the scent of freshly brewed coffee and sweet pastries struck a melancholic memory in my mind. My steps came to a stop when I saw a boy, his cascading platinum-blonde hair that seemed to glow under the night sky, and his figure reminiscent of you.

My lips quiver as recollections of our past swirl back into my mind like a relentless wave. My body froze in place, a slight tremor betraying the rush of nostalgia; unable to summon the boldness to inch myself forward.

So I chose to flee in the opposite direction, all the while pathetically berating myself for not being brave enough to walk up to you and ask what I've always wanted to. So with each step, my heart thuds against my ribcage, threatening to leap out of my chest from how rapidly it's beating.

That day, I made a promise to myself. To forget about you. 

Now I stare at the now spacious gaps of my house after I threw all the things that reminded me of you. The amount of framed photos I had of us that decoratively adorned the walls, the shirt you willingly let me have which once carried your scent, and the beautiful magnets we collected from our trips, how could I avoid the memory of you?

But when I gathered all the boxes, I tried to throw them out, but my heart couldn't. I couldn't.

After 16 days of trying to follow my promise, I broke it. I called you, so now I hope this voicemail gets to you, Kazuha. Cause this is the last time I'll say goodbye to you, I'm sorry, but you won't see me again. 

- - - - woaah that was tuff :)) hope you guys liked it !!

Hello my friend, we have not received any donations for two days and all the free food distribution points have closed. We are now left with only one option, which is to buy expensive food. So please, my friend, donate to us what you can and share our post so that it reaches everyone. Please, for the sake of my innocent little children, please, we are on the verge of a real famine.

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pairing : minho x gn!reader

summary : minho had waited in front of the entrance of the forest for you until the sky darkened, his eyes welling up with tears as he came to accept that you had forgotten about him that day. maybe you needed to go home that day and forgot to tell him before school, he thought. although, he realized something far greater than that had happened as he arrived at the front of your house, the for sale sign standing in the yard without a trace of human presence in the home.

wc : 3.8k

cw : childhood friends, arguing, angst, sadness, mentions of bullying + racism/xenophobia, mentions of alcohol, idk what else

a/n : tried a new writing styles, lmk what you think!!! also pls let me know if you guys are interested in a part 2 :3 this fic is very much inspired by the movie past lives heheheh

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The low buzzing of mosquitoes filled your ears while you wandered down the dirt trail with trepidation as the vast forest surrounded you the deeper you ventured in. Tufts of grass tickled your ankles as your clammy hands clenched your best friend’s, who had dragged you out against your will, insisting it would be a fun adventure to test your bravery. 

Every now and then, he’d look back and shoot you a wide, childish grin, a gap taking the place of the front tooth he had just lost last week. “C’mon, Y/N! Walk faster!” 

You nodded meekly at your friend, admiring how he fearlessly marched forward, while you anxiously trudged behind him, biting your lip to release some of the tension in your body. Every rustle of leaves or snap of a twig would cause you to jump, afraid that something would jump out at you in the next second, but Minho’s gentle grasp would always bring you back down with a reassuring squeeze, reminding you that you were not alone as you hiked into the unknown. You weren’t sure where you were heading, neither did you know if the seven year old boy ahead of you knew, but his presence was enough to ease you, trusting that everything would be okay as long as he was there.

“It’s okay, Y/N, we’re almost there! You’re going to love it.”

Although only ten minutes had passed, it felt as if this journey was lasting for an excruciating amount of hours as anxiety loomed over you. All you could see was the different hues of green leaves enveloping you, the site of the park you had come from no longer in view as the forest swallowed you whole, only bits of the sunlight made its way through the dense leaves above you, coloring the dirt path with shadows and lights. You looked above, hoping to find the comforting blue sky looking down on you, but not even the heavens were there to accompany you on this trek. It was just you, Minho, and the eerily quietness of the woods.

You decided to put your blinded trust in Minho, shutting your eyes closed as the daunting feeling of claustrophobia began to bubble up your stomach, not daring to take in any more of your surroundings. Suddenly, Minho had come to a stop, causing you to collide into his back as you slowly opened your eyes, unsure what you’d be met with. 

“We’re here,” Minho whispered to you breathlessly from all the walking, turning his head to look over his shoulder, “Look, I found it the other day, it reminded me of you.”

You reluctantly peeked your head out from behind him, a small and excited gasp escaping your lips as you marveled at the sight before you. It was like a photo from one of your nature books had come to life before your eyes. There laid a pond with clear waters and lily pads floating atop of it, soft ripples forming in the water as tadpoles swam just beneath the surface. Just to the right of the pond was the faintest stream of water cascading into the pond, bubbles forming where the brook met the pond as the light trickles of it accompanied the low hum of the forest. 

You had forgotten you weren’t alone as Minho’s giggles brought you out your trance, his eyes beaming with affection as he watched your frightful expression turn into one of amazement and discovery. 

“See, I knew you’d like it. Sometimes you need to pass a test of bravery to get something cool at the end.”

For a seven year old, Minho often said profound things as if he had lived a life full of experiences, things only an adult from a movie or book would say, but in his own childlike vocabulary. You didn’t always quite understand what he meant, but always kept those small tidbits of profundity with you, hoping one day you’d grow to learn the meaning behind his words.

“But jeez, you’re such a scaredy cat. You should’ve seen the look on your face,” he teased as he now faced you, a hand pinching one of your cheeks.

And sometimes, he would just be like any other kid who was messing with his friends, saying something outrageous and nonsensical the next second. He was a strange kid, but you had grown to adore his unpredictability throughout the years of your friendship. You rolled your eyes playfully at his remarks, knowing he meant well, “So what if I was scared?”

“I think it’s cute when you’re scared. You always hold my hand when you are.”

Your face grew warm at his comment, an innocent smile gracing his features as he looked off to the pond. You pouted as butterflies fluttered into your stomach, making their presence known for the umpteenth time today, “Whatever…”

You returned your attention to the pond, walking to its edge as you squatted down with an arm and head resting on your knees as the other reached down to touch the cool water. Your fingers dipped beneath the surface and waved underneath, hoping you’d catch the attention of the tadpoles, but instead the sudden movement shooed them away. 

“Minho?”

“Hmm?”

“How did you find this?”

The boy stood in his place from earlier, opting to admire the scene from afar, “Well, I went out exploring with my dad the other day and it was just here. I learned the path back to show you. Do you like it?”

“It’s so pretty. Can we come here again?”

“Of course.”

Since that day, it had become a small ritual between the two of you, stopping by nearly everyday after school to spend time by the small pond as you slowly learned to appreciate the peaceful quietude of the wilderness. On the days your mother would tell you she needed you home after school, you’d always approach Minho with big, teary eyes and trembling lips, disappointed that you’d have to miss out on a time you had cherished so much with him. And every single time, Minho would pull you into his embrace, place a small kiss on your head, (a gesture he had learned from his own mother), and reassure you, promising that you both would go the next day.

This routine had lasted for a bit over a year, until one day your parents sat you down and told you that the family was moving away to the United States later that month. You had known this was going to happen eventually, as your parents mentioned this in passing to you over the last few months as they prepared for the move, but your child brain couldn’t comprehend the passage of time and just how fast this had all come.  You immediately broke down into tears, begging your parents to let you stay, not wanting to leave all your friends behind so soon, not ready to confront the uncertainty this new country had. You were scared, terrified for what this had all meant, and the worse part of it all was that you wouldn’t have Minho holding your hand through it all this time. He was staying behind, you were leaving him.

Days had gone by as the day you were moving had come close, and you still hadn’t told Minho that you were moving. You didn’t know how to, you were afraid he would cry or be angry at you, so eventually, weeks had gone by without you saying a word. 

Then, you left without a word, never telling your best friend you were leaving and never giving him the chance to send him off with a proper goodbye. 

Minho had waited in front of the entrance of the forest for you until the sky darkened, his eyes welling up with tears as he came to accept that you had forgotten about him that day. Maybe you needed to go home that day and forgot to tell him before school, he thought. Although, he realized something far greater than that had happened as he arrived at the front of your house, the for sale sign standing in the yard without a trace of human presence in the home.

Panic settled into his body as he sped his way home, not being able to understand what was going on as he rushed to his mother, tears falling down his face as he screamed that something happened to you and your family, how you never showed up to the pond that day.

His mother leaned down as she pulled him into a tight hug, a comforting hand rubbing his back in an attempt to soothe him, “Oh, sweetie, didn’t Y/N tell you?” 

Minho looked up at his mother, his face reddening as he continued to sob, a confused look on his face as he shook his head no. His mother cooed at him with a saddened look, pressing a kiss on his forehead, “I’m sorry, sweetie. I thought they did. Their dad got a job in America, so their family is moving there.”

Minho stood there in shock, sniffling as he croaked another sob, “What? Does this mean they’re gone? They’re never coming back?”

“No, baby, they’ll come back eventually. I don’t know when, but they will.”

You had abandoned Minho with no warning, consequently breaking his heart as he mourned the loss of his best friend.

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While your parents kept in contact with one another, Minho refused to ever speak to you over the phone whenever he had the chance, as the love and adoration he once had for you festered into anger and resentment for leaving him without warning. 

It hurt you every time you asked over the phone if Minho could talk, and all you would hear was a loud, upset no from the background after his mother would ask. Your eyes would water up each time, his mother apologizing for him and saying he would soon get over his feelings. 

You hated living in the United States. It was an entirely different culture you were not prepared for as you struggled to communicate with other kids your age, unable to make friends due to the apparent language barrier. Everyday after school, you’d come home in a flood of tears, exhausted and upset at how difficult everything was.

You couldn’t understand your teachers and lessons, always performing poorly even though you knew you could do well. You couldn’t make friends, always being made fun of by other kids due to your accent and jokes constantly flew over your head. Everything about you had become a weapon everyone else had used against you, and the parts of you you once loved and once were proud of became something you rejected, something you felt ashamed of. Back home, you were so smart and witty, always the center of attention, yet here, you were just a stupid kid who didn’t fit in.

You missed Minho so much, wishing he was here with you to help you fight through it all with your hand in his. If he was there, he would’ve told off all the kids for you. He was much braver than you ever were, and you needed him there. Although, as time ran its course, you eventually gave up on the idea of ever reconciling with Minho and thought he would reach out to you whenever he was ready.

Except that day never came, and he had long become a memory of a past life you no longer knew. 

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Years have gone by since you left your home country and all you had left of it was the faint outlines of memories that faded away with age, much like how pencil marks slowly disappear from paper as time wears it down. Well into your adult years now, you have grown accustomed to life in the United States and have eventually learned the language, made friends, and even lost touch with roots as many immigrant children do. Although, as you grew older, you began to yearn for the country you once called home and remember where you had come from, feeling ashamed that you had neglected such a crucial part of your identity for so long. 

Today, for the first time in years, you and your parents returned to your home country as a small celebration for your college graduation, deciding it was appropriate to revisit your childhood before embarking on your journey as an adult. You already had a job lined up once you returned to the states, so you were going to take advantage of the limited time you had here.

Much like you, everything here has changed through the passage of time, yet the familiar comfort of home remains as your eyes scan over each detail through the car window. Even the humid air smelled the same, your face smiling as memories slowly crept their way into your mind. As the car drove you to your aunt’s house, you were catching glimpses of the past as convenience stores, parks, and even your old school greeted you, still looking the exact same as you remembered, but just a little dulled down as the years weathered on them.

The car came to a halt at the front of your aunt’s home, your parents and you taking your luggage from the trunk as you bid the driver a goodbye. As you were approaching the front door steps, your aunt came bursting out with an excited gasp, tears filling her eyes as she pulled you into a familiar embrace, “Oh, Y/N! Look at you! You’re all grown up now!”

She pulls away as her hands rest over your shoulders as she takes a moment to beam at your face, taking in every detail she had missed over the years, “My, aren’t you adorable too! I’ve missed you all so much,” she laughed cheerfully as she then went over to greet your parents in the same fashion. 

“I missed you too, auntie,” you breathed out a content chuckle as you enter her home, admiring how it still looked the same way you remembered it, just a bit more modernized.

After settling down in the guest rooms, your family sat with your aunt to eat a dinner she had prepared for you all, even going as far as making some of your childhood favorites. Each bite sent shivers down your spine as your eyes rolled back with nostalgia rushing over you, reminiscing all the times you spent as a child eating each of these dishes at the very table you were sitting at.

“Wow, this is all so good,” you mumble after taking a huge bite of meat, letting out a pleasured hum as you chew.

“Y/N, honey, please don’t talk with your mouth full,” your father scolds, shooting an apologetic and embarrassed look to his sister.

Your aunt let out a belly laugh as she waves you dad off, “Nonsense! Let them enjoy their food. I am just glad you have you guys back.”

Your mother smiles at her comment, nodding her head in agreement, “Us too, it’s good to be back, even for a bit. Thank you for having us.”

“Oh, of course. How could I ever say no to my brother?” smiles your aunt, before turning to you, “Is there anything special you wanted to do while you were here? Do you have anything planned?”

You shake your head, “No, not really. Just kinda wanted to spend time with family for the most part.”

“Oh, what about Minho? I know you two were close as kids. Are you going to see him? He still lives here.”

Your heart stops for a moment as your brain recalls your old best friend, a name that hadn’t crossed your mind in years as fragments of your memories began to resurface, ones that you didn’t even know you have. “Wow, I forgot about him, honestly.”

Your mom gives you a comforting smile, noticing a slight sadness in your eyes, “Well, I think it wouldn’t be a bad idea to catch up with him, no? Aren’t you curious to know what he has been up to all these years?”

You nod, feeling uneasy at the thought of coming face to face with your former friend after the stunt your younger self pulled on him, “Ah, maybe. We’ll see.”

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You had spent the last few days catching up with your cousins, letting them take you out wherever they thought you had to see and show you what you’ve been missing. Unfortunately for you, that meant you were dragged off to a night of drinking and while you had fun with lots of laughs, you were beginning to regret all the alcohol you had ingested the night before as you woke up with a pounding headache. 

Since the day your aunt mentioned Minho over dinner, you couldn’t help but wonder what he had been up to nowadays, what he looked like, if he had changed much, your heart yearning for the boy you once loved as a child. While you could’ve easily asked any of your family members where to find him, you were also dreading having to face after so long. What if he was still mad at you? What if he was disappointed in who you’ve become? What if he had become an insufferable asshole over the years? 

The insurmountable what-if’s were too much for you to bear, choosing it was best to avoid the subject much as you both have all these years. Yet, you couldn’t ignore the pang in your heart as you looked through your old memories of him, part of you wishing to relive that childlike innocence you lost when you moved away.

That’s when you remembered the old pond Minho and you once frequented as children and thought maybe this was the respite you needed for not only your hurt soul, but your hangover too. Maybe you needed the peace and tranquility of mother nature today.

You felt your heart swell with anxiety as you approached the start of the trail you had become so acquainted with, noticing the same trees decorating the entrance, the only difference was their thickened trunks and roots that had overgrown onto the poorly maintained path. 

You begin to make the trek into the forest, enjoying the gentle zephyr that kisses your skin, inviting you back into your old safe haven as if it recognizes you. The familiar buzzing of mosquitoes greets your ears, along with the songs of birds filling the rest of the space.

A gentle smile melts onto your face as you arrive at the same pond that somehow remains unchanged over the years, just like how you remembered it all those years ago. It was as if you were going back in time as you took in your surroundings, your mind replaying memories of the days you and Minho spent here as children, recalling the first time he had forced you out here and how glad you were that he did.

There are still tadpoles swimming in the water, your smile widening as you realize the frogs are still laying eggs here, even after all these years. You feel at home again seeing how this was like your own little time capsule, a feeling of safety and comfort taking over you, one you hadn’t felt in years. You don’t know how much had passed, but the sound of crunching leaves and twigs startled you from your daze, visibly jumping in place as you turned to see the source of the sound.

Behind you was a man about your age standing there, surprise and confusion painting his face, scanning you from head to toe while analyzing your features. Your face mirrors the same expression he wore as you took him in, your eyes widening as you recognize the man standing before you as none other than your childhood best friend, Minho. 

Somehow, he still looks like the boy you once knew, the only difference being that he grew into his feature with a more matured air around him, his eyes tired from god knows what.

“Y/N…?” he spoke with disbelief, not entirely believing the sight before his eyes.

“Minho?”

For a moment, both of you could only stare at each other, unsure how to react or what to say in the moment, as it felt like you both had just seen a ghost appear in front of you. Your mouth dries as you search for the right words, resisting the overwhelming urge to just jump into his arms and cry out a mess of an apology between tears.

“You’re… here? You’re back?” he questions with a gleam of hope in his eyes, all the memories of his youth flooding back in as his heart swelled with joy, the bitter resentment he had held for so long disappearing for a moment.

“Just for a bit,” you whisper nervously, “I’m just visiting with family.”

The soft smile on Minho’s face began to drop as disappointment colored his face, the hurt he felt all those years ago as a child bubbling back up in his tummy, leaving a bitter taste in his mouth while feeling foolish to think you had moved back home. 

“I… Y/N, why didn’t you tell me you were leaving?”

You felt your heart contort from guilt and agony as you watched Minho’s smile dissipate, his eyes now shining as they watered while recalling the painful memory of the day you left.

“Minho, I’m sorry, I really am. I tried to apologize to you after, but you never wanted to talk after.”

“I waited for you that day. I waited for you to come here, but you never showed up. I went all the way to your house and saw it was empty. My mom had to tell me,” you were wishing the world would swallow you whole as tears streamed down your face, “Y/N, did you not want to say goodbye? Did you not even miss me?”

“Of course I missed you, Minho. I wanted to stay here with you, but telling you I was moving was scary and I didn’t know how.”

His eyebrows furrow at your words, his lips trembling as he tried to hold back a cry as he croaked out with a mixture of sadness and anger, “You left me, Y/N. It wasn’t fair, you don’t know how much I cried for you. Did you even care about how I felt?”

“Minho, I know what I did hurt you and I regret it so much, you meant so much to me, but I was just a kid. I didn’t know any better.”

Minho focuses his gaze to the ground as tear drops roll off his face, the fabric of his shirt darkening as they make their landing, shaking his head side to side, he whispers, “You know, I was a kid too.”

With that, he looks at your face with a hurt expression one last time, turning his back towards you as he walks away, not failing to leave you with a gut-wrenching thought, “Maybe you shouldn’t have come back.”

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✦ You surprise them with terms of endearment in their language

(Or, pretending that Teyvat uses certain languages based on the regions.) 

Pierro, Capitano, Dottore, Scaramouche, Pantalone, Childe 

✧ You don’t remember what prompted you to emit this word specifically, however, its occurrence was as natural as the auroras in the Snezhayan sky. During a typical day, when you were casually conversing with Pierro, you just replied with:

“Of course, just be careful, mel.” (honey)

It was out before you could register it, and you hoped he didn’t catch on. But it's known that nothing passes by the Jester unnoticed. Pierro’s gaze was uncharacteristically stunned, yet it softened the moment he turned to you. 

“It’s been… centuries since you called me that.” 

You averted your gaze away in shame, muttering a small apology. But the Director stepped closer to you, his gloved fingers brushing underneath your chin to look you tenderly in the eyes. 

“No, no. I do not seek an apology. You often called me melimelum (honey apple) during our days of guilelessness. Go on. Utter these words for me once more. I must know whether you remember them as much as I do.” 

Meeting his gaze, you stammered upon your words but managed to convey “mi mel” (my honey) for him again despite your coy disposition. The Jester smiled as if an eon-long frost had been melted off his heart. Thus, he leaned closer to relish your lips in his, whispering.  

“That’s more like it, corculum (sweetheart). These words are always sweeter when uttered by your lips.” 

✧ It is no one's surprise that you and Capitano participate in convivial challenges. Who else would match the harbinger’s fierce ambition for competition if it weren't for you, his partner? From duels, training, and games, to even… endearing nicknames. Yes, just loudly calling each other cute nicknames until the other gives up, in the privacy of your own home. 

“You may be the strongest man in Tevyat, Capitano, but!” - you loudly proclaimed “I can still defeat you in a battle of wits.” 

“Your words bring forth a challenge that I seek, my beloved. If you dare to challenge me, know that I will not back down.” 

“Hmph!” - you crossed your arms, a triumphant smile already gracing your features. “My dear, sweet Captain. Don’t be so sure of yourself. It’s clear that I love you more.” 

“Absurd,” - Capitano clenched his fists, his resolve is unshaken. “My love for you brings mountains to dust and the seas to dry. It is clear that I love you more.” 

“Tsk, tsk. I can still express my love in a far wider range, geliebter (loved one).” - There it was. Your special attack as you spoke confidently back. “ You better not underestimate me.” 

The Captain froze, his stance now rigid. Even through his pitch-black helmet, you could see you seized him off-guard. A word he has not heard in centuries, even more so, you put in the effort to pronounce it correctly. The Harbinger stepped closer, his sharp fingers gently cupping your cheeks.

“My dear, cherished, loved engelchen (little angel). Where did you learn that from? Such sweet words will not be tolerated. I shall memorize the entire dictionary to out-win you in this battle of precious monikers.” 

“Oh yeah? We’ll see, herzblatt (sweetheart), because I did my research! So I win!” - you mumbled proudly, even when Capitano kept squishing your face by squeezing your cheeks lovingly. 

Your little ‘warfare’ was left at that, and you didn’t think much of it afterward. A successful conquest; or so you credulously thought. Little did you expect, that in a couple of days, Capitano would burst into the room, a thick book in his hand labeled ‘Dictionary & Encyclopedia of Teyvat's Ancient Languages’.

“My dear, you won’t believe this! I have found a compelling addition to what I must call you, notlazohtlé." (my precious thing)

“U-um, Capitano. You didn't actually spend days trying to memorize a whole… dictionary, did you?”

“Nonsense. A warrior never backs down from a challenge. Especially one bestowed upon him by his yōltzin.” (lover)

✧ When Il Dottore heard you speak, he had to ensure the grip on his book was firm. He swore he almost dropped it but made sure to conceal it, as his back was facing you while he stood in front of bookshelves. 

“What did you just say?”

“Habibi” - you retorted simply. “Or, do you prefer azizam?” (my dear)

There was a prolonged silence coming from the Doctor. The sound of this native tongue brought a conflicting range of abrupt disgust and wistful familiarity. Yet Dottore clenched his jaw; there wasn’t an ounce of humor in his voice, and he would much rather go on pretending he hadn’t heard you say those words. 

"What are those harebrained names you are calling me? Has your time in Sumeru made you so asinine?"

You were not surprised he reacted this way. Nonetheless, It was futile to hide your solemn disappointment, so you sighed - "Never mind..." 

The book he had been flicking through was gradually set aside. Although you couldn’t read his expression, he remained eerily still. 

"Say it again." 

"Hm?" 

"I said,” - Il Dottore suddenly turned, stepping closer to firmly set his hands on the table, looming over you. “Say it again." 

Oh no, you thought. “I said habibi. Like people in the Sumeru desert region often say… But I thought you’d loathe it so maybe aziz-” 

Your words were cut off, as the Harbinger cupped your jawline and made sure to silence your doubts with his own lips. The sudden kiss was as sweet and warm as honey, and as ardent and fiery as the blazing deserts of Sumeru. 

“I was not being serious.” - He explained after leaning away, even if his scoff came out stilted. He didn’t mean to be rude, instead, he was impressed you went your way to learn these expressions. His hold on your jaw abates in an instance “Call me whatever you want.

You blink - “Well, you studied like… twenty languages since you were a student. So I wanted to gauge your reaction. What about ‘my heart’? was it kalbi, or…?” 

“...Ya balsam qalbi (O balm of my heart), you just called me a dog.”

The Doctor couldn’t help but laugh at your antic. Your sweet attempts at endearment were beyond him, especially when you fumbled on pronunciation. Thus, he settled with teasing you, locking his lips back with yours. You could feel his love wash over you like the gentle breeze blowing across the sand; carrying away any lingering worries and leaving you with the joy of being with him.

✧ Scaramouche abhors seeing couples being all mushy and sweet in public. Lovers giggling when embracing under the shade? Ugh. Calling each other cute nicknames as they walk? Disgusting. Stealing discreet kisses while no one is looking? Nauseating! 

His reaction is nothing new for you, as he frequently crossed his arms in annoyance. Particularly after a nearby married couple passed by the two of you, one of them saying “Anata, don't forget to buy some sugar and flour on our way home.” - Just people going on with their lives. What you didn't expect was how the Puppeteer would latch to your arm and accuse you:

“Why are you not calling me that!?” 

You blinked in bewilderment - “...what?” 

Scaramouche huffed, his expression sour - “You know what! Dropping the semi-formalities and using Anata (dear). Don't make me repeat myself.” 

“But that's how married couples refer to each other.”

“So?” 

Silence. The two of you awkwardly stood still, frozen. And then it clicked. “I can’t believe my ears… The 6th of The Fatui Harbinger,” 

“Wait, I take it back –” 

“Is asking me,” 

“Don’t. Don’t you da–” 

“To use anata, like a precious spouse would do to their loved one! Aaa!” - you gushed and beamed, your tone countering Scaramouche’s flustered groans, while he tugged at his hat to conceal his furrowed eyebrows. “Should I welcome you home with a cute pink apron, telling you that dinner and a bath are ready, too? Or maybe, offer you something else… ” 

“You’re insufferable. I regret even bringing this up now.” 

“Fine, Fine. I'll stop." - you sighed after a hearty chuckle. “Sometimes, rigid formalities can appear as an insult too, you know. After all, what sort of sweetheart would I be if I didn’t consider your troubles."

You mused innocently at the mental image of using terms of endearment like a married couple. However, your imagination was interrupted as the Harbinger took it upon himself to grab your waist, pulling you flush against him.

"Did I tell you to stop? If we're going to pretend to be a cute, married couple - then do so properly. Besides, what was that part about offering something else when greeting me back home?” 

✧ When you prepare little surprises for your beloved Pantalone, you often come up to him with contagious excitement, eager to show what nick-nacks and artifacts you brought along. This time, you recently returned from an expedition in Liyue, and as always your affluent partner greeted you with honeyed enthusiasm, embracing you tightly as you spoke of your adventures.

“Pantalone, Pantalone!” - You exclaimed gleefully “I learned something new while I was staying in Liyue Harbour!” 

“Oh? And do tell, sweetheart, what is it that caught your curiosity this time?” - Pantalone spoke elegantly, helping you undress from your adventuring garbs. 

“I was familiarizing myself with certain literary texts and it led me down a rabbit hole of traditional phrases common in Liyue… And I figured out how to call you precious! Bǎobǎo!” (baby) 

Pantalone’s eyes shot wide open with renowned zeal. He grinned and clasped his hands, “Oh, my treasure! How adorable of you! And did you go all the way out just to learn this for me? Let me hear you say it again.”

“Bǎobǎo! It suits you! Or maybe you prefer xīn'gān?” (heart and soul)

Pantalone was ecstatic, his smile further widening - “My, my, you certainly worked on your pronunciation. Your stay in Liyue paid off then, because dear, you are making me swoon with your adorable surprises. Pray tell, what other phrases did you learn?” 

“Well, I was told that lǎogōng (hubby) is good.”

“Mhm, yes, yes.” - Pantalone nodded.

“Also huài bāo,” (naughty)

“O-oh?”

“And wǒ yào nǐ,” (I want you)

“O-.... oh,”

“And also shǐjìn yīdiǎn (go harder), but I was told this one is a little bit intense.”

The Regrator became motionless. You gazed at him with such pure naïveté, so oblivious that your charming perception didn't grasp the weight of these foreign words. He placed his hands on your shoulders firmly and inquired seriously:  

“My sweetheart. Who, exactly, taught you all this?”

“Well, so. There was this lady who had a small perfumery shop by Chihu Rock. I think her name was Ying'er.” - you pondered but smiled “She was a nice lady, she taught me all these phrases, and said they would work like a charm!”

Pantalone had to exert all his mental strength to avoid fainting or exploding. He is unsure of what exactly, but one more word from you and he'd drop to his knees with a ring for you. Rather than translating your earlier words, the Harbinger lets out a shaky sigh and focuses on controlling his hitched breathing.

“Oh, Shǎguā (silly). If you were unsure of the words' meanings, you could have just asked me and I would have demonstrated. Personally.”

✧ It was another day at Tartaglia’s family home in Snezhnaya. You visit him often and his family has long since welcomed you as part of their household. Especially the siblings, as Teucer and Tonia always welcome you with tight embraces whenever you arrive. 

When you found your beloved Childe in the kitchen, he innately greeted you with a kiss on the cheek, asking: “You’re right on time, sweetpea. We’re planning on making homemade meat dumplings. Maybe some borscht as a side dish too. Is that okay with you?” 

To which you simply nodded, already moving to help - “Of course, milyy (sweet). Do you need me to start with the bullion?” 

The Harbinger stopped. He never heard you use native terms, but when he registered your words, his head quickly snapped toward you in astonishment.

“Do my ears deceive me?! Did you just call me…!” 

Aha, so you got him. You tried to hide your giddiness, a faint grin threatening to appear - “Well, I just tried to use something new. You love nicknames, right? So perhaps…” 

“Say it again!” - The man practically leaped at you, his eyes now glowing with elation as he hyped you up to reveal your cards. 

“Okay, okay big guy, just take it easy. I just said milyy (sweet). Maybe you’d like it if I said… lyubimyy (darling)?”

Tartaglia gasps as your sweet words hit his ears, but then a wide grin spreads across his face. “Oh, is this a challenge? If so, fight me! I will shower you with more love for each sweet word coming out of your mouth. But I warn you, you'll have to use them a lot more often from now on.” 

He kisses your cheeks again, this time with even more passion and fervor while he cupped your cheeks. His lips felt like waves crashing against the shore, and each one left an invisible imprint of love and adoration on your soul. As you chuckle at his affectionate antics, small hushed voices interrupt you two. 

Teucer and his sister Tonia were peeking behind the kitchen door, giggling as they eavesdropped on you two. However, when Tartaglia caught their gazes, the rascals scurried away giggling.

“Hey! Quite sneaking in! Did your parents not teach you to give adults some privacy?” 

Latin: melimelum (honey-apple), mel (honey), corculum (sweetheart) German: geliebter (Loved one), herzblatt (sweetheart), engelchen (little angel) Nahuatl (Aztec): notlazohtlé (my darling/precious thing), yōltzin (lover) Persian: azizam (my dear) Arabic: habibi (my dear), Ya balsam qalbi (O balm of my heart), qalbi (my heart), kalbi (my dog, lmao)  Japanese: Anata (informal you, dear for couples)  Mandarin: Bǎobǎo (baby), lǎogōng (hubby), huài bāo (naughty), wǒ yào nǐ,” (I want you), shǐjìn yīdiǎn (go harder), Shǎguā (silly melon) Russian: milyy (sweet), lyubimyy (darling)

*While I speak Arabic, and Russian and know a little bit of Japanese; If you have some additional info on the linguistic part, or speculation or spot some inaccuracies - please, please, please 🙏 kindly share them with me! I am open to fixing any mistakes. Or if you just have headcanons and love projecting certain languages onto these characters like I do - share them with me! 

Thank you 

this made me feel 😫🦋✨

Let's all appreciate this man right here <3

Our night together (y.jh x reader)

"The sea seems like it's longing for something.." you quiver, the cold breeze meddling with your skin as your eyes gaze upon the weeping sea. "It's a very lovely sight." You added. Jeonghan fumbles over the blanket laid on the grass, trying to find a comfortable position before deciding to sit up and lay his head on your shoulder.

"Y/n, it's getting a little bit too late. Let's go home." He mumbles, but you didn't seem to hear his remark. He watches as you stare deeply into the sea like you're trying to find something that'll satisfy your visual perception.

Not until he snaps you back to reality, by just laying his head down on your lap, leaving you startled and flustered. Chuckling, you caress his dark locks and sung a short lullaby. He hums the melody with you contentedly, his soft angelic voice slowly drifting off to a deep sleep.

"Sleep well, my dear." you whisper, sitting back on the tree behind you. With one last look at the sea, you, as well, have dozed off.