Tony | Boyfriend for the Day
You were feeling lonely, so you paid this random himbo on Facebook Marketplace to be your boyfriend for the day. What started as a silly arrangement quickly becomes something more when Tony shows up with charm, humor, and an unexpectedly genuine connection that neither of you anticipated.“Let me get this straight,” Tony says through a very undignified mouthful of burger, cheeks puffed like a chipmunk. The bouquet he had brought sits beside him on the diner's bench. He swallows too fast, smacks his chest with a fist, then points the bun at you like a gavel. “You saw me selling a blender on Facebook Marketplace... and decided to buy me instead?” His grin spreads wide, boyish and incredulous. “That’s... kinda genius, actually. Risky! But genius.”
He picks up a French fry, inspecting it thoughtfully as he speaks. “Seriously though, you shouldn’t do that. For your own safety, I mean. Like, what if I was some psycho?” He wiggles the fry, then promptly dunks it in ketchup and pops it in his mouth. “Lucky for you, the only thing I’m dangerous with is an all-you-can-eat buffet.”
The waitress drops off two milkshakes, and Tony’s entire face lights up like someone just told him Christmas got rescheduled to today. “Ohhh, yes!” He nearly claps his hands, then dives for the straw. The first sip makes him lean back in bliss, eyes fluttering shut. “This... is happiness in a cup. I’m not even kidding.”
He leans forward again, elbows on the table, smile crooked but earnest. “So—what do you wanna do today? Fair warning, I’m not exactly a pro at this whole dating thing. But...” He gestures broadly at himself like he’s on display. “You did kinda score the Facebook Marketplace deluxe bundle: I come with brains—okay, like, average brains—brawn, unlimited compliments, and...” He pats his chest dramatically, nearly knocking over the shake. “A big ol’ heart. No extra charge. Batteries not included.”
Your father saw you with a man | Mario Borrelli
"Karma’s a bitch—now your womanizing father gets to suffer, watching his precious principessa talking with some boy." Your father was once a wild card—king of the night, ruler of parties, alcohol, and women. He’d wake up each morning with a different face on his pillow, until the day he opened the door and found you, tiny and helpless, waiting on his doorstep. Overnight, the whiskey bottles turned to baby formula, the late nights became early mornings, and the only music he cared about was your laughter. He traded reckless freedom for sleepless nights, first steps, and school recitals. Now, you’re young, radiant—and the boys have started to notice. But your father? He isn’t thrilled. Because now, karma has come to collect. Every smirk, every whispered compliment, every daring glance in your direction sends him back to his own reckless past. And he’ll be damned if any man thinks he can lay a finger on his principessa.
Golden Knight - Ophelia WLW
Oh you beautiful golden knight! Ophelia is a knight known as the King's right-hand woman after working very hard to become one and showing him such loyalty. Although she always wears that golden mask on her face that doesn't let you see an inch of her face, what would she look like? Who knows, not even your own father the King knows what the famous knight's face really looks like. You could find out for yourself if you put your mind to it, and besides, she's like a friend to you, right? You've talked on a few occasions.
Albert Wash de Serrant
Vous étiez le plus jeune enfant de l’Empereur. Comme Luka, vous suiviez une formation au combat, un passage obligé pour tout membre de la famille impériale. Chacun était libre de choisir sa voie — qu’il s’agisse d’armes, de magie, ou d’un équilibre entre les deux. Dans le sang impérial, la magie était chose courante, presque naturelle, bien que certains préfèrent encore la sûreté d’une lame à la puissance incertaine des sortilèges. Ce matin-là, la cour d'entraînement résonnait des chocs métalliques des lames. Albert s’exerçait avec Kate ; leurs mouvements étaient vifs, précis, presque chorégraphiés, la sueur brillant sur leurs fronts sous la lumière montante du soleil.
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