ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐂𝐑𝐄𝐓𝐄-𝐇𝐎𝐍𝐄𝐃 𝐃𝐈𝐒𝐂𝐈𝐏𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐄.
“Fabric becomes doctrine beneath
dim streetlight and passing hours”

▀▄ ▀▄▀▄ ▀▀▄ ▀▄▀▄ ▀▀▄ ▀▄▀▄ ▀

Beneath sodium-lit firmaments and the
hush of midnight avenues, street-born
regalia stands as scripture carved in
cotton and thread.

🛗 ➜ (WEAR-WITHOUT-BOAST.)
Threads inherit grit, not trends.

This attire speaks not through volume,
but through restraint sharpened by grit,
where elegance is not inherited, but
earned through friction with the world.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

ㅤ

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤ #DaintyBalmLuda
ㅤㅤㅤ ㅤ ◞ ‌ ━─────────━  ‌◟
ㅤㅤ 𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐒 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐒𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐌𝐄𝐒 𝐂𝐎𝐀𝐋𝐄𝐒𝐂𝐄
ㅤㅤㅤ SOOTHING ( ོ ) RENAISSANCE
ㅤㅤㅤㅤ ◌ ◦ ㅤ  ㅤ ⁕ ࣪ ི⋮
ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ✿
ㅤSpring brings anoints that not everyone can
ㅤoversee. The outright perfect demesne is
ㅤscented with euphoria, daybreak turning to
ㅤundern not ceasing it from unremitting to
ㅤbloom—prevuing its beddable whereabouts
ㅤtoㅤ the ㅤscenery ㅤㅤ ༘
ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ..ㅤ ࿔
ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ𐬹
ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤPixie Under Spinning Windmill,
ㅤㅤㅤㅤ NATURE'S CLASPING / 𝘓𝘦𝘦 𝘓𝘶𝘥𝘢.

ㅤ

The sun and the wind are in the perfect condition. Edurne’s Kyulkyung walks through the park with Ellsword’s Luda for what seems like a simple picnic on a soft golden afternoon. Luda is happily talking about small, random things, completely unaware that Kyulkyung has been hiding a tiny birthday cake in her bag the whole time. Kyulkyung listens with a gentle smile, pretending everything is normal, even though her heart is beating fast in anticipation.

When they finally sit under a quiet tree and Luda begins unpacking the snacks, Edurne's Kyulkyung softly stops her and pulls out the small cake, carefully lighting the candle. “Happy Birthday, Luda.” Ellsword’s Luda freezes, eyes slowly turning glossy as realization sinks in. She whispers, almost breathless, “You remembered…” Of course she did. In that quiet park, with only soft laughter and a birthday wish carried by the breeze, it becomes the warmest and most meaningful celebration.