#Traditional silver ornaments

[jupra]

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[seumyo]

BAKUGOU KATSUKI ⭑.ᐟ A SERENE CELEBRATION, MERRY CHRISTMAS

A younger Bakugou Katsuki had always been certain of his future. At 26, he’d be a man with it all: a nice house, a career as the undisputed Number One Hero, happily married, and maybe, just maybe, a little brat on the way. That was the dream his teenage self clung to—the vision he worked tirelessly to acheive.

At 26, Bakugou stood in the middle of your shared apartment, arms crossed and staring at the half-decorated Christmas tree with a deep scowl. Strings of golden lights glimmered around the tree’s branches, lengths of ribbons are accompanied by shimmering with faux flowers, and ornaments—carefully chosen by you—hung delicately in place.

The problem? The color scheme.

“What’s wrong with red and gold?”

“It’s boring,” Bakugou grumbled. “We do red and gold every year.”

“It’s classic!” you argued, turning to face him fully. “And it matches the rest of the apartment’s decor!”

He narrowed his eyes. He could not believe that he’s having this conversation with you right now.

“We could try something new for once. Like silver and blue.”

You gasped, clutching an ornament like he’d just insulted you personally—even cursed your entire bloodline and ancestors. “Silver and blue? Are you trying to make our tree look like a corporate lobby?”

“It’d look cooler than this,” he shot back, gesturing vaguely at the warm-toned ornaments. “This looks like something out of a cheesy holiday catalog.”

“And what’s wrong with cheesy?” you challenged.

Bakugou opened his mouth, then closed it. He didn’t actually have anything against cheesy—hell, he secretly loved how excited you got during the holidays. But arguing about it? That was part of the fun, if not a branch of his quality time as a love language.

“Whatever,” he muttered, grabbing a red bauble and hanging it perfectly on the tree. “You’re just scared to try something new.”

You laughed, walking over with another ornament to decorate with. “And you’re just scared because I’m right.”

As Bakugou worked to string the lights around the higher branches, you began unpacking the remaining ornaments from your storage box. You pulled out a small, slightly worn ornament in the shape of a star and held it up with a nostalgic smile.

“Do you remember this?”

He glanced down from the tree, frowning at the star in your hand. “Should I?”

No matter how much he tries to remember, he simply couldn’t recall what made this star so special that you had to ask him if he remembers it.

It’s a star, that’s for sure. A faded one at that.

You sighed, clearly unimpressed by his lack of sentimentality. “It’s the first ornament we bought together. Back when we were... what, eighteen?”

Bakugou paused. It had been a spur-of-the-moment purchase during a rare day off from hero training.

You had somehow convinced him to go with you to wander around a Christmas market, bickering over everything from what food stalls to visit to what decorations looked “cool.” You had insisted on the star, and Bakugou—reluctantly—agreed after a heated argument about which shape of star’s better.

“Are you having a flashback monologue right now?”

That brought out a scoff from him. “Fuck no. Just remembered how you were annoying as hell that day,” he muttered.

“And you were so stubborn, god. You kept saying it was pointless to buy an ornament because I didn’t even have a tree back in my dorm.”

“Yeah, and you said, ‘It's not about the tree; it's about the tradition.��� What kinda cheesy crap was that?”

“It's true, though!” you argued, accepting his hand to place the star gently on the tree’s highest branch. “And now, look. We still have it. And now we can buy all the Christmas trees we could ever want.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

As you continued decorating, the sound of your laughter and playful arguments filled the apartment, giving it a cozy home feel. By the time the tree was finished, Bakugou begrudgingly admitted to himself that it didn’t look half bad—even if it was the same colors as last year, though a decent fortune was spent for it to not be too repetitive.

It’s a good thing his work pays well (you split the cost of decorations equally; he just says that his work pays better even if yours is a lot higher than his).

You stepped back, admiring your work with a satisfied smile. “Perfect. Now, onto the Christmas Eve menu. I was thinking we could do something light this year—maybe roasted chicken and a salad?”

Bakugou groaned, collapsing onto the couch. “Salad? On Christmas Eve? No fucking way.”

“What’s wrong with salad?”

“Is your childhood a bland mess to have salad as one of the main foods? It’s boring,” he said, sticking his tongue out at you when you gave him a pointed look. “We should make something warm and filling.”

“Okay, but you’re helping.”

“Since when did I ever leave all the cookin’ to you?”

Now that he’s 26, standing in the modest yet cozy apartment he shares with you, he realizes that dreams don’t always come in the exact shape you imagine.

Sure, he doesn’t have the massive house he once envisioned, but this apartment—filled with laughter, memories, and the faint scent of your favorite candles—is more of a home than anything his younger self could have dreamed up. The framed photos of your milestones, the shelves of books, and even a few of his hero equipment with the tools scattered on his office—it’s all perfect in a way he didn’t know he needed.

And his career? Well, Dynamight isn’t the Number One Hero yet, but he’s close. Close enough that his younger self would sneer but grudgingly admit it’s not bad.

He’s built a solid name for himself, and he’s done it his way. His rank might not be where he wanted it to be at this age, but he’s learned something more valuable than being the best—he’s learned the importance of balance.

The last part of that dream? The wife? He looks toward the kitchen, where you’re humming some off-tune melody, beginning to prepare what Bakugou’s about to cook with for dinner. The sight of you, so comfortable and almost glowing in your shared space, makes his chest tighten.

He must have a heart problem by this point because it comes at him at the most unexpected times whenever he sees you.

No, he doesn’t have a wife yet. But he’s about to change that.

He’s been thinking about it for weeks now.

He’s got the ring—it’s hidden in the drawer under his socks, where he knows you won’t go snooping.

He knows you’ll say yes, but he would be damned if he didn’t admit that it made him a bit nervous. He knows because you look at him the same way he looks at you: like the world would become lighter and easier to conquer as long as you have the other.

But still, he waits.

Not because he’s unsure, but because he wants the timing to be perfect. Not rushed, not forced. He’s learned to be patient over the years.

“Kats, help with cutting the onions, please!”

“Yeah, yeah. Comin’!”

Soon, he’ll drop the question. He’s not in a rush. This is your life together, and it’s not perfect, but it is just right—chaotic, loud, and full of love. And when the time comes, he’ll make sure you know just how much you mean to him.

But you already know that, don’t you?

SEUMYO © 2024, PLEASE DO NOT REPOST, PLAGIARIZE, MODIFY OR TRANSLATE.

[momomogos]

*围炉煮茶·寒窗对酒听雨雪

'stars in the garden' by @jackofallrabbits

Here's the list of gifts:

Geisha！Sun: A beautiful tea-making set with a portable oven, the main teapot is made of terracotta, with a cherry blossom relief and four gold-edged ceramic cups. It is used by people when they "围炉煮茶(make tea around the hearth)", and unlike the traditional tea tasting activities, "围炉煮茶" focuses more on the enjoyment of the atmosphere rather than ornamentation. Geisha！Moon:《枕上宋词( Song Ci on the Pillow)》, English translation of Song Ci, this book is a selection of 115 hand-me-down Song Ci, which can be understood by native English-speaking animatronic while preserving the beauty of ancient poems to the greatest extent. Beautifully packaged with a hint of aroma and a lotus motif on the front and back cover. Geisha！Eclipse: A collectible replica of the Imperial Tang Knife, handcrafted by craftsmen at an expensive price, perfectly reconstructed with a gold and silver flat Tang horizontal knife (the original in Shosoin in Japan), with”鎏金错银(gilt silver)”, restored one-to-one (and bladed). cherry blossom！Y/N: A box of delicious Chinese pastries, held in a bamboo basket, filled with a variety of flower-shaped desserts that young people will love, the most special of which is a large custard rabbit cake（奶黄玉兔糕）. The bamboo basket was accompanied by a box of desiccated coconut balls and some fresh fruit.(Only there is no traditional cherry blossom cake, because you can only buy one piece at a time, considering the distribution problem....)

Why Gift?

It started with a joke I had while chatting with Jack:

Then I thought, since I'm bustard, then this Chinese New Year's holiday, I have to send year-end bonus gifts to my employees, and then there is this doodles, and this post (just a joke for self-amusement haha, it has nothing to do with the novel itself~)

Here are some zoomed-in details:

以及礼物参考图片：

（There are some places I really don't know how to translate, so I put them in Chinese~）

Happy New Year daring! (and pass a cup of hot water to Jack)

[serpentface]

A Korya man astride a camelops, both wearing their winter coats. [redo of an old post]

The camelops is part of a widespread genera of large ungulates that are native to the temperate, subarctic, and arctic regions across the northern hemisphere. Camelops used to have a near-ubiquitous geographic range, but the last equatorial and southern species went extinct long prior to the behavioral modernity of any sophonts.

There are several domesticated strains of camelops (stemming from a few different species), and they are the (very distant) second most common riding animal used by humans and elowey. They have advantages over khait in regions that see significant yearly snowfall, being superbly adapted to the cold and having broad feet that effectively distribute their weight in snow, and are especially valuable in dry tundra and grassland due to their resistance to dehydration.

The Korya peoples are located in the central-north of the landmass above the Inner Seaway. Their lands are temperate and encompass prairie, woodland, and forested regions.

This man belongs to the nomadic plains Korya, who subsist primarily on herding camelops and secondarily on seasonal hunts of large wild ungulates (bison, aurochs, and deer most notably). Their camelops are rarely slaughtered for food and leather, as the living animals are key to subsistence. They are invaluable for survival in the short but often harsh and snowy winters in open grassland, carrying their riders over deep snow, supplying wool for clothing and milk and blood for consumption. Most hunting of large ungulates is performed astride the camelops, allowing for close approaches to prey and quick responses to the movement of fleeing herds. Plains Korya are also noted as formidable in combat as mounted archers and spearmen.

While a primarily nomadic people, the plains Korya have several permanent settlements across their lands that function as neutral meeting spaces between clans and hubs for trade and artistry. The Korya peoples at large have shared traditions of silverworking, and plains Korya specialize in elaborate silver pieces worn as jewelry and for ornamentation on tack.

TANGENT:

The Korya peoples are part of a cultural-linguistic complex spread throughout the far east of the supercontinent. In the contemporary, this complex can be roughly divided into the Keppeji, Korya, and Finnic sub-groups (each of which can be substantially further divided)

This map attempts to illustrate the spread of these languages (over the course of centuries) and the people that carried them. Note that the lands marked as contemporary settlements do not represent countries/discrete regions/singular peoples, rather just the lands PRIMARILY inhabited by the various descendant peoples of a distant shared common ancestor.

[obliviouscxnt]

Control Azriel x Reader

a/n: I'm so lost, i don't know what I'm doing. Still learning how to use tumblr but in the meantime, welcome to the first fic i feel like posting.

synopsis: feyre's growing curiosity about you sparks some personal questions.

Warnings: mentioned SA, fluff, hints of sexual activities

pt.2 | pt.3

One of the first friends Feyre made in the Night Court was you. You reminded her of the twin wraiths in a way. Never saying much, if anything at all. Maybe that was one of the reasons she liked you so much. 

You didn’t need to talk to enjoy each other’s presence. Feyre had as much fun sitting in silence with you as she did on a night out with Mor. 

But as time passed, as Feyre became a constant in the Night Court, she had grown curious. She wanted to know more about you like she did the others. 

So she started asking you questions, and to her surprise, you would answer her. Your answers weren’t clipped, or vague. You never sounded annoyed with her, you were completely open and honest with her. 

“How long have you known everyone?” Feyre had asked while you gently played with her hair, her scalp tingling at your touch. 

You thought about it for a moment. “Over two hundred years now.” 

She tilts her head, so apart from her you were the newest member of the inner circle. “How did you meet?” She asks, shivering as the tingles travel down her spine.

You start braiding a few small strands from the front of her face as you speak. “My kind are far different from other Fae.” Feyre practically perks up at the words. She knew you weren’t high fae but she never bothered saying anything about it, she barely even noticed it most of the time not nearly enough to warrant a discussion. “They hail from no court, and bow to no lord, not even the Mother is with their thoughts.”

Feyre tried to imagine what that would be like, how they would act, what traditions they’d carry. She thought of your features, the ones that stood out among other high fae. Your ears didn’t point, your nails were like claws, and your teeth bore long sharp canines on both the top and bottom of your mouth, but the features that stood out the most were the ones you kept hidden. 

Feyre saw them once, your wings. The first time she met you. Like they were just there for a formal introduction. They were big, beautiful, and intricate. They looked like moth wings, and fluttered like them too. Opening and closing slowly when you were lax.

Immediately when Feyre saw them, she felt like painting again, she could barely keep her eyes off them, barely keep herself from reaching out a hand to touch them. Maybe that was the reason for their absence in the next visit; all that remained of the glorious appendages was precise ink that lined the whole of your back, a tattoo of folded wings. 

From the way they folded, they almost formed a natural cape. She wondered how far your tattoo ran, the extravagant fabrics of the dresses you wore only showed so much. 

She pictured a whole colony of people that looked like you and immediately felt like painting again.

“It’s why nobody can do anything about their backward ways, they listen to nobody but themselves. Believe no one but themselves.” All preconceived thoughts of your people turn sour with your words. 

“The things they’ve done, they still do…” You release a shaky breath as you finish the small braids and set them aside.

Feyre turns to look at you when your delicate hands part with her hair. She finds you sorting through a box of hair ornaments, but your eyes are clouded. Not even the most glorious of diamonds could shine through that fog. “You don’t have to...“ 

You blink out of your daze and wave her off as you pull out a few gem-encrusted pins and show them to her. Waiting for her to give you a nod of approval before pulling out a stunning bejeweled silver comb and repeating the same process. Your collection was truly marvelous. 

“When I was saved, it was my first Flowering Night.” You spoke the words with barely concealed bitterness. “A night where all mature unpaired females are sent into the woods for any participating males to hunt down and take as they please.” 

You tuck back the small braids with the sparkling pins. Feyre listened as you continued, she wanted to say something but what would she say?

“No one could run very far from our community, the woods of the Middle hold no mercy. It was either hide and hope you make it till dawn without being spotted by a male. Or die to the other horrid creatures that live in those woods.” 

Feyre’s heart ached for you, her sorrow a tangible thing able to be smelt in the air. And you squeezed her shoulder, you comforted her. Her sorrow only increased. You never deserved any of it.

“I chose the latter.” You carefully place the comb into her hair, finding it in yourself to smile at the final product. You still fiddle with a few strands until you feel pleased. “A close encounter with death led to the discovery of my gift,” 

Dreamwalker, Rhys had called you.  An ability so rare even Helion’s exquisite library had very little information on it. 

Feyre loosely understood that you could enter another person's dream. Could manipulate it as you wish, to serenity or to a blood-curdling nightmare. But what made you so powerful, what made you such a valuable asset to the Night Court was your ability to bring dreams to life. All manner of dreams. 

However, your ability was sparsely used for court matters, and only necessary people knew of it. You were their trump card. Something nobody would see coming. 

Feyre would never forget the time you had a nightmare, sending half the court in preparation for battle. She’d also never forget the way Azriel had fought off the nightmare incarnate to get to you. How he charged forward without an ounce of hesitation. While Rhys had stood protectively in front of Feyre, and Cassian’s siphons flared from beside her, providing a shield around them.

Feyre had realized then that Azriel would go to hell and back for you. 

Feyre turns to face you, to look you in your enchanting eyes now that you are finished playing with her hair. “I was barely a woman, I didn’t know the first thing about defending myself. I didn’t know what this gift was.” She watched you raise a hand, small stars forming and trailing your fingers, blinking and shimmering as you played with them. “What good is a gift this powerful if you don’t know what to do with it? It’s as good as a broken blade.” 

Feyre’s breath leaves her body when you pull down the shoulder of your elegant emerald gown, revealing a long jagged scar running diagonally across your chest. The skin puffed up from how deep the gash was. “I would’ve died if it weren’t for Azriel.” 

The high fae’s eyebrows raise ever so slightly. 

“He heard me screaming. And he came for me.” You pull the shoulder back up and smile. Actually, smile. Feyre had never known someone like you, someone able to flip such a horrid memory around. Someone so able to pick out the good amongst the bad. “It wasn’t until a century later that I finally accepted his invitation to the Night Court and met everyone else.”

Feyre found herself grabbing your hand and squeezing. So grateful you had accepted his invitation. 

You squeeze back. 

“You’re so strong.” Feyre says, furrowing her brows when you laugh like she had told a joke. 

“It wasn’t strength that led me here, Feyre.” You tell her. Once again she wanted to paint you, but she felt like she wouldn’t be able to do you justice. “It was fate.”

A knock sounds at the door. 

“Come in.” Feyre calls and you both look to the opening door. Two incredibly attractive Illyrian men stand at the doorway. 

Rhys smiles at the sight of you two, eyes raking over the hairstyle you’d given Feyre. “You look lovely, Feyre darling.” Her face heats as you smile in triumph. 

“Say goodnight.” Comes Azriel’s voice in that tone he only used on you. 

You obey his command without a second thought, giving Feyre a light hug and giving Rhys a small bow before scurrying toward Azriel’s waiting arm. 

You fall into step with him as his hand lands on your lower back. But before the two of you could disappear you tug on his shirt, prompting him to stop only long enough for you to turn back toward Feyre and say a final goodnight. “Dream well Feyre!” Then he continued leading you away to your shared chambers. 

The mated pair watch you two travel away. Rhys with a look of content for you and his brother. Feyre with a new curiosity. 

She couldn’t help but be curious about the dynamic you and Azriel had. The way that dynamic bled into the interactions you had with your friends. How you always asked for permission before doing something and always jumped up whenever anyone asked you to do something. Rhys seemed to catch on to that curiosity. 

He decided to save you the embarrassment of Feyre asking you herself. He had enough of an understanding of you to know when something would make you uncomfortable, no matter how much you said otherwise. 

You’d always answer any questions asked of you openly and honestly, whether you wanted to or not. It was one of the reasons many were at first against your visits with Feyre, himself included. The newly turned fae was far too oblivious to your situation to recognize when she was taking advantage of your obedience. But you assured Rhysand repeatedly that Feyre never bothered you with her questions. That you enjoyed her presence just as much as she, hopefully, enjoyed yours. 

Much to everyone’s delight, Feyre regarded you with gentleness and awe from the very start. It was the effect you had on people. It was the reason Azriel didn’t put up a fight about leaving your visits unsupervised.

“[name] was raised by cruel people, they taught her that in a relationship the male's word is law. Her people think a female is expected to give up any and all control to her male. It’s one of the few things she never was able to condition herself out of, Azriel helps her by providing that control she needs.” 

Feyre thinks about that, face heating at the images it created. She wondered what that would be like, to surrender herself completely. “So if he told her to jump off the nearest bridge…?” 

“She’d do it, with zero hesitation.” 

Rhys smirks, knowing glint in his eyes as his gaze runs over the blush that coated her face. 

“But he’d never ask something like that of her. He knows her inside out, knows when something is too much or not enough.” He steps closer to her, delighting in the way her breathing picks up. “If I didn’t know any better I’d think your interest in this topic was more than innocent curiosity.” 

“Well, do you?” Feyre asks, making his eyes narrow. “Know any better?” 

Rhys’s gaze becomes dark. “Nope.” 

****

“Did you enjoy your time with Feyre?” You sigh at his voice, the comfort it brings you. You find yourself leaning into him, and he allows it. 

“It was nice.” You say truly. It felt like it was easier to breathe now that Feyre had more of an understanding. “She asked about how we met.” 

The hand on your back pulls you closer to him as if he were remembering that day. Remembering what you looked like as that hideous creature held you down, slicing into you. The way you flinched away from him after he’d slayed the creature. The sheer dress that you wore, If it could even be called that. He could still picture everything so vividly. 

How you eventually submitted to him, and how that made him sick. How he carried you out of the Middle and into the lands of the Night Court, never taking you into the cities. How for the next century after that he would visit you at the little private cabin only he and his brothers knew about, how he took care of you, and how he grew to love you. How you grew to love him in return.

He shoves those thoughts into the back of his mind as he opens the door to your shared chambers, walking you inside before shutting the door behind you. 

His hands move to your shoulders while he guides you to sit on the edge of the large bed, big enough to fit at least three winged beings. Hands brushing down your body as he kneels before you, settling on your ankle. He brings your foot up and rests it on his thigh before slowly unraveling the straps of your heel. Once finished he continued with the right heel, his touch nothing but confident from years and years of practice. 

A hand pats your thigh, letting you know he’s finished. Your eyes trail him as he heads toward the bathroom, you’d be happy to just look at him for the rest of your immortal life. 

You help Azriel, though he had no problem doing it for you, by taking off your jewelry one by one, setting each extravagant piece on the nightstand. By the time you're done Azriel’s waiting for you next to a full bath.

“Come.” He beckons from beside the large clawfoot tub. Hand outstretched and waiting for you. 

You saunter toward him, sighing as you let your brain just rest. Let him do everything for you. 

His hands are strong, and gentle, and secure all in one as they guide you out of your gown, his clothes following not long after. You sigh as he brings you into the tub. Positioning you so you sat between his legs, back to his front. 

Your eyelids slowly fall shut, coaxed by his soothing touch. Feeling nothing but content when he pushed your head back to lay on his shoulder, a gentle kiss pressed against your temple.

You were soon in a state of barely there, just teetering on the side of sleep but awake enough to move when he told you to. 

“Lean forward.”

His hands rub up and down your back, cleaning and massaging the skin there. You shudder in pleasure and he hums soothingly. Like cooing at a pet. You straighten up a bit when he taps the marked skin a few times, moving forward just enough for your wings to slowly peel away from your back. What was once ink on your skin, now real moving wings. 

“Spread.” And you do so, wings unfolding and stretching out completely. 

You shiver as his hands brush against them, making them twitch both away and toward him. As if they couldn’t decide whether the feeling it brought you was too much or not enough.

As always Azriel handled them with utmost care, humming when small noises of pleasure escaped you. When he was finished he tapped your shoulder to let you know, but you were too tired to summon the magic needed to conceal them.

Though, not tired enough to remember it was his turn. 

Slowly with lethargic movements, you turn to face him. Wings folding up again, forming a natural cape on your back. “Can I-“ You begin but catch yourself before you can finish. His narrowed eyes crinkled into a smile. Happy he no longer had to remind you of such a simple fact. 

Don’t ask to touch what is yours.

So instead you reach for the soap in his hands and begin to wash him. Taking satisfaction in the way his wound-up muscles, tense from hours of work, relaxed under your touch. The way his hands rested on your hips, squeezing every now and then appreciatively. The hums that left his mouth, no longer with the intent to soothe you but to let you know how pleased you made him. 

Your touches became increasingly distracted, sleep slowly leaving your system as your mind filled with nothing but him. 

He smirks, a mix of amusement and attraction. Allowing his own touches to become less innocent. His hands move to wrap around your wrists, dragging your hands down, down, and down his body. Soap long ago discarded. 

“Touch me.” He commands. 

And nothing could keep you from satisfying him. 

next→

[mindless-existence1]

I know it’s late

but what about the sonic characters with the reader under a mistletoe

👀

tails can get a motherly kiss on the head

he my baby

Tails my sweet boy 😭❤️ @luc1dw0rld

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~♡~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Shadow

You hadn’t planned this. Really, you hadn’t. But here you were, standing under the mistletoe with Shadow the Hedgehog, and he looked about two seconds away from Chaos Controlling out of there.

His red eyes flicked up to the small plant above you, then back to you, his expression unreadable. “Tch. This tradition is ridiculous,” he muttered, arms crossed, but you didn’t miss the way his ears twitched slightly.

“C’mon, Shadow,” you teased, leaning in just a little. “What’s the harm?” He huffed, but after a moment of hesitation, he cupped your chin gently, his touch surprisingly warm despite his usual cold demeanor.

Then, in a rare display of affection, he pressed a quick but firm kiss to your lips.When he pulled back, his gaze was intense. “No one hears about this” he murmured before walking off, you shout a "Whatever you say handsome, as he leaves you standing there, heart racing.

Sadly you muss the reddness that flares on his cheeks.

Silver

Silver had been having a great time at the holiday party—until he found himself frozen in place, staring up at the mistletoe, his face turning as red as a Christmas ornament.

“Oh, uh… oh, wow,” he stammered, glancing between the mistletoe, you, and the group of people in the background giggling at the situation.

“So um, what do we do?” You giggled at his adorable nervousness, and how obvious it is he's pretending to be oblivious. “You know how the tradition goes, Silv.”

His fluffy quills bristled as he tried to psych himself up. Then, taking a deep breath, he leaned in and gave you the softest, sweetest kiss youve ever received.

When he pulled back, he rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. You laughed, placing a hand on his arm. “Silver, you're so cute” His face somehow got even redder, "You cant just say stuff like that." He said with a smile.

Sonic

The moment Sonic realized you two were under the mistletoe, a cheeky grin spread across his face. “Well, well, well,” he drawled, tapping his foot playfully. “Looks like we got a little situation here.”

You smirked, crossing your arms. “Oh? And what are we gonna do about it?” In a flash, he was right in front of you, his hands resting on your hips. “I dunno, but I think I’ve got a pretty good idea.”

Before you could react, he swooped in, pressing a quick yet electrifying kiss to your lips. It was over as fast as it began, but the heat in your cheeks remained. He winked, stepping back with that confident grin. “Not bad, huh?”

You rolled your eyes playfully. “Cocky much?” “Maybe.” He leaned in slightly. “But you liked it.” You nudged him, but you couldn’t help but grin. Yeah, maybe you did.

[washoping]

Christmas reminds me

── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ──── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

Emily Prentiss x reader

summary: As the holiday cheer clashes with the turmoil of your past mental health struggles, particularly your eating disorder, Emily’s presence becomes the support you need the most.

tags: emotional hurt/comfort, mental health issues, eating disorder, christmas

2.5k words │ ao3

a/n: the holidays can be tough for some of us - so i wanted to offer this quick oneshot, filled with emily’s comfort, as a hug from me to you during this time. you’re not alone <3

english isn’t my first language, typos and mistakes are all mine.

── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ──── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

Snow drifted lazily outside the window, each flake dancing as it fell while you were sitting curled up on the sofa with a blanket draped over your shoulders like an armor against the cold world outside. The soft hum of instrumental Christmas music played faintly in the background, mixing with the soothing crackling coming from the fireplace you had lit up a while ago. The twinkling lights of the Christmas tree reflected off the silver ornaments. All of the decorating you had done earlier should’ve made you feel warm, safe even. But there was a weight in your chest. It was uninvited but unfortunately familiar to you - you dreaded it every December.

The holidays had been a double-edged sword for you as long as you could remember. There was joy and there was laughter, sure. But for you, there was also an immense amount of pressure and anxiety. Pressure to join in the dinners with your family, to take part in traditions that all revolved around food, to pretend that you were okay when in fact you weren’t. At all.

The voice in the back of your mind was loud today, so cruel in its persistence. It clawed at your insecurities and brought back painful memories from the past family gatherings where you had felt judged, scrutinized and never enough for anyone. The voice had told you lies about how everyone noticed every bite you took, how every calorie would show and somehow expose your failures. You remembered the whispers that your mind had made up to be comments about the amount of food you were eating or not eating. Sideway glances from family. People perceiving you. You hated it.

The living room started to feel smaller and the lights dimmer as your thoughts pulled you inward, deeper into the suffocating ache of self-doubt.

The ache had been there since the moment you woke up, but despite it, you had managed to decorate the apartment. You knew your girlfriend, Emily, was working late for the last day before her holiday break and for a fleeting moment you had felt a desire to make the space festive for her. It was the least you could do after Emily had so kindly promised to spend the holidays with you. Just the two of you, so you wouldn’t have to go to family gatherings. You were grateful.

The Christmas tree stood tall in the corner, decorated with silver ornaments you and Emily had collected over the time you had been dating. You had hung up tiny fairy lights and stockings and even placed a few scented candles on the coffee table. Vanilla and cinnamon, Emily’s favorites, you had learned. The effort had been both a distraction for your own sake and also a way to show Emily just how much she meant to you.

The sound of the front door opening, and closing just as quickly, snapped you back into the present moment. Emily’s voice echoed from the hallway, light and cheerful. You knew she was relieved to have some days off from work.

”Sweetieee!” You heard the familiar warm voice and couldn’t help but smile.

A moment later Emily appeared in the doorway, carrying two mugs of steaming hot chocolate from your favorite café down the street - you recognized the logo in the takeout mugs instantly. Emily’s dark brown eyes swept over the room, taking in the decorations. She froze in spot, her expression shifting from tired but happy to radiant in an instant. She smiled to brightly. ”You did all this today?”

You nodded, suddenly a bit self-conscious. ”I… thought it might be nice.”

”Nice?” your girlfriend asked and set the mugs on the coffee table. She took her winter coat off and then crossed the room in a few strides, sitting down on the sofa and wrapping you in a tight hug. You couldn’t help but smile when you felt her arms around your body. ”It’s absolutely perfect. You’re amazing, you know that?”

She looked into your eyes and pressed a quick kiss on your lips before she turned to admire the decorations again.

Emily’s excitement was infectious and for a moment the weight in your chest lifted. It made breathing a bit easier. But as Emily settled properly on the sofa next to you and cradled one of the mugs in her hands, her gaze sharpened. Her smile softened when she tilted her head, looking at you.

”What’s going on, baby? You seem… quiet”, she then asked softly.

You forced a small smile on your face, but it didn’t reach your eyes.

”Just a bit tired, I guess”, you tried but it wasn’t convincing at all.

Emily placed the mug back on the table and shifted closer, her hand finding yours. Her touch was warm and grounding. You looked down at how her thumb started slowly caressing the top of your palm.

”Honey, I know how difficult the holidays can be for you”, she said, her voice low and steady. Each word was so carefully chosen and wrapped in love. ”I just want you to know that I’m here for you, okay? Every step of the way. You don’t have to pretend with me. You don’t have to carry all this on your own. You’re not alone.”

Couple tears came streaming down your cheek before you could do anything to stop them. Before you knew it tears blurred your vision, making the room’s soft lights smear like watercolor. Emily didn’t say anything else, she just wrapped her arms around you and pulled you against her chest.

The fabric of her sweater was soft against your cheek. She smelled like vanilla, a scent so distinctly Emily that it felt like home. You closed your eyes and listened to the rhythm of her heartbeat against your ear. It was the most comforting sound you’d heard all day - steady and strong, grounding you. You let yourself sink into Emily’s embrace and somehow she made all the tension you had carried inside your body all day unravel under her touch.

”It’s not easy”, you eventually whispered, your voice muffled against her sweater. ”I hate that it’s so hard. It’s like… like every bite feels like a damn battle. It’s so exhausting.”

Emily pulled back just enough to be able to cup your face in her hands. Her thumbs brushed away the tears on your cheeks softly. Her chocolate eyes, filled with unwavering determination to show you how she was there for you, searched for yours.

”I know it’s hard, baby. And it’s totally okay to feel that way. All your feelings are valid. But I see you, I see every part of you and I love you for all of it. The good days, and the not so good ones. You are enough just as you are, my love.”

You tried to look away, ashamed.

”It doesn’t feel like it’s enough. I always feel like I’m failing. Every time I try to eat, there’s this… this voice inside my head, telling me that I’m doing it wrong. Too little or too much. That I can’t even eat right. That I’m weak. And it’s so fucking loud, Emily. I can’t shut it off, especially this time of the year when everything revolves around food. I’m so tired.”

Emily’s hands tightened their grip around yours, grounding you further.

”Sweetheart, you’re not failing. You’re fighting. And that voice? It’s lying to you, big time. You’re so much stronger than it wants you to believe. It’s going to take time, but you’re not alone in this. I’ll be here to remind you of that whenever you need it. I’m not leaving”, Emily told you in a comforting voice.

You couldn’t help but think back to the night you had first told her about your problems with food. How controlling what you put in your mouth had been your way of dealing with stuff you couldn’t control in your life for the longest time. Emily’s face had softened, her eyes filling with tears she refused to shed. She hadn’t said much at first. She had just listened to you and then held you as if letting go would shatter you somehow. Later, she had told you she’d do everything in her power to make sure you never felt alone in this again. The promise had become her mantra, spoken to you softly in moments like these, when things were too heavy for you to carry.

”I just feel so broken sometimes”, you admitted with a trembling voice. ”Like… why can’t I just be normal? Why does food have to be this… this thing?”

Emily’s hands squeezed yours, her grip firm but still gentle. It anchored you to her presence and you were able to stay here, and not slip away.

”You’re not broken, my love. You’re human. And this ’thing’, as you call it, doesn’t define you one bit. You’re so much stronger than that. We’ll take it one day at a time. One meal at a time, together. And you don’t have to do any of it alone. If it feels too much, we’ll stop. That’s why I told you we could spend this Christmas together, just you and me. You don’t have to be perfect with me, you just have to be you. Because I love you, for you.”

”I just… I don’t want to ruin everything because of stupid food”, you confessed, your voice breaking now. ”Sometimes it feels easier to just not show up, not eat, not let people see me struggling.”

Emily’s gaze softened, her thumb continuing to stroke gentle patterns over your knuckles again.

”You’re not ruining anything, I promise you. It’s okay to struggle. It’s okay to have hard days. In fact, it would be weird if you felt completely okay about the holiday season. I would be worried. What matters the most is that you let me know. And that you’re trying. I can see you’re trying so hard every day. I see how hard you’re fighting, even if you don’t feel it”, she said. You let out a shaky breath you didn’t notice you had been holding.

”But what if I mess up? What if I can’t do it?”

Damn self-doubt.

Emily leaned in, her forehead now resting gently against yours. You looked into her beautiful eyes full of kindness. One of your favorite things about her.

”Then we’ll pick up the pieces together. There’s no such thing as messing up when you’re healing and recovering. Every step, no matter how small, is still a step forward. And when it feels like it’s too much, I’ll be right here. Always.”

You hated that they did, but something in Emily’s words cracked your shell and made you sob harder. Emily held you tighter, her hand cradling the back of your head in a comforting manner.

”Let it out, love. Shh… I’ve got you. I’ve got you, I’m not going anywhere”, she whispered against your hair. Her fingers stroked it, each pass a quiet reassurance that everything was going to be okay. Her short nails scraped your scalp lightly. ”We’ll take it one moment at a time and if it gets too much, we’ll take a break. We’ll figure it out, I promise.”

You nodded against Emily, grateful beyond words so you didn’t even try to explain. Emily had a way of making you feel so seen, not in the scrutinizing and suffocating way that your family did, but in a way that felt like sunlight breaking through clouds. In a way no one else had ever seen you before. Emily didn’t demand anything, didn’t blame, didn’t try to fix you. She just… stayed. Supported. Loved you.

When your tears had dried Emily got up.

”Please, don’t lea-”, you managed to mumble, worried of where Emily was going. You just wanted to be in her arms right now.

”I’ll be back in just a second”, she said quickly and flashed you a bright smile.

She disappeared into the bedroom and when she returned she was holding a small neatly wrapped red box in her hands. The paper was patterned with tiny white snowflakes and there was a beautiful silver ribbon curled perfectly on top of the box. The light from the tree caught on the foil, making it shimmer.

Emily sat down next to you again. Her knee brushed against yours as she placed the box in your lap.

”For you”, she whispered sweetly and smiled. Her voice was gentle in a shy way, as if she was unsure of how you’d react. You hesitated, your fingers brushing over the edges of the paper. The texture was smooth underneath your fingertips.

”Em, you really didn’t have to.”

”I know, but I wanted to”, Emily said determinedly. ”You mean everything to me. Please, open it.”

You peeled back the paper carefully, as if unwrapping something fragile. Your hands trembled a bit. The folds gave a way to reveal a small wooden box. It was carved full of your favorite flowers, each petal and leaf so detailed you couldn’t help but admire them. You lifted the lid and inside was a stack of cards. You recognized Emily’s handwriting in them. Your heart got caught in your throat as you picked up the top card and read it.

You are more than enough.

You picked up another one. You deserve love and kindness, especially from yourself.

Card after card each message was a quiet affirmation, a reminder of your worth and strength. Some were simple, like Take a deep breath, while others felt like whispered secrets from deep inside Emily’s heart. Support for stuff only she knew you had been through.

By the time you had gone through a handful of them your vision was blurred with tears again, but this time they carried a different weight. Gratitude, not sadness.

Emily’s hand rested on your knee. When she saw the tears filling your eyes, she squeezed.

”Whenever you’re feeling overwhelmed, you can pick up one. Or ten. Whatever helps. I’ll add more as we go. Every word on those cards is true and I’ll remind you every day if I have to”, she said and leaned against your shoulder.

You couldn’t find the words to express how much the gift meant to you, so you just turned into her direction and pressed your lips on hers. Emily sighed, smiling into the kiss. You clutched the box in your hands like a lifeline. Emily’s arms came around you again, pulling you closer to her and deepening the kiss at the same time.

”Thank you”, you whispered when your lips parted a little.

Emily pressed another kiss, a tender one, on your temple. Then on your forehead. Her lips lingered there for a moment before she cupped your face with her hands.

”Always, my love. Always.”

She kissed you again.

[onlyhereforthestories]

Dangling Memories (Alexia Putellas x Reader)

Day 17! This is so cheesy but I kind of really love it. I really want to have this with someone some day. Like imagine having a tree full of memories

The weather had turned colder, it never got cold enough in Barcelona to snow really but it was cold. You and Alexia were currently surrounded by boxes in her warm apartment, it was a rare day off for you both in the lead up to Christmas and you had both decided it would be the best day to finally decorate the tree.

“So, where do we start?” you asked, looking at the collection spread out before you which included a medley of tiny footballs, mini jerseys, and even a few golden trophies. “I didn’t realize you had quite this many football-themed ornaments, Alexia.”

Alexia chuckled, lifting a miniature Barca jersey ornament between her fingers. “It’s a collection I’ve been working on for a while,” she admitted, glancing at you with a soft smile. “But I thought it’d be fun to make this year’s tree a little more personal. Together.”

You smiled at her, feeling the warmth of her words flow through you. It had been a long journey for the two of you, but now that you were together, you treasured every Christmas you get to spend with her. Each year you made new traditions or continued ones you had already started and it just made each year that little more special. This was the first time Alexia had asked you to come decorate the tree with her and you were excited to see this side of her.

As Alexia dug through one of the boxes, she pulled out a small ornament and handed it to you. “Here. This is one of my first ornaments I got for my own tree, and it was from my dad so it’s special.”

You took the tiny soccer ball ornament from her, feeling the weight of it both physically and metaphorically, as you turned it over in your hand. The design was simple, but the faded red and blue colours hinted at years of care. “Was this from when you started at Barca?” you asked, raising an eyebrow.

She nodded, her gaze softening as she looked at the small ornament. “Yeah, I got it that first Christmas after joining the academy. My dad gave it to me as a reminder to keep going, even when things were tough.”

You gave her a soft smile, you knew how much this little decoration must mean to her. You never got to meet her dad, but you felt like you knew him from the stories she shared. You knew for sure that he would be so incredibly proud of the woman she had become. “Look at you now,” you said, holding the ornament close before gently hanging it on the tree’s lowest branch. “From academy player to the heart of the team. He would be so proud and honoured you still have this.”

A sad smile crossed her face before she spoke, “Thank you I hope you are right. It’s the one that always reminds me of where I started, you know? What got me here, who got me here.” She reached for your hand as she spoke, seeking the comfort you brought her as she thought back on the one she lost. You gave the hand in yours a gentle squeeze before bringing it to your lips and pressing a gentle kiss to the back of it, trying to give her the comfort she was silently asking for.

She used her other hand to reach into a box next to her and you saw her face light up as she lifted it. You recognised it the moment it came into your view, and you could feel your cheeks heat up as a result. “The silver boot! This was the year you scored your best goal tally, and the team got you this to remember it by.”

She smiled at the memory, “The team still laugh when they see it on the tree each year, but it means a lot to me. And not because of the solo achievement but because they brought it for me.”

You laughed a little before smiling to yourself, brushing a thumb over the shiny boot. “I remember seeing that game. You were on fire.” You grinned, thinking back. “I think that was the first game I went to after we met.”

Alexia’s gaze softened, and she nodded. “It was,” she said, reaching up to add the little silver boot near the centre of the tree. “You being there meant a lot. It still does.”

You took a moment to let that settle, warmed by her words, and reached for a small ornament of your own. You picked up a tiny Polaroid frame that held a photo of the two of you from your first trip away together. It was a candid shot from when you’d visited the beach, and both of you were grinning at the camera, sun-kissed and happy.

“Do you remember this?” you asked, holding up the little frame.

Her face lit up as she looked at the picture, laughter bubbling up. “Oh my god, that was when we got lost after eating at the cute little seafood restaurant and had to be saved by the bar owner of that tiny corner bar.”

You nodded, the memory bringing a laugh of your own. “I’ve never been so relieved to see a pub in my life, I swear there was nothing else on that damn island. I thought we were going to be wandering all night. But it was so worth it, that whole trip was perfect.”

Alexia wrapped her arm around your waist as you hung the ornament on a low branch. “It was perfect,” she echoed, leaning into you for a moment pressing a kiss to the back of your neck. “That trip felt like a big step. Like the beginning of us.”

You glanced up at her, feeling the love you always do when looking at her, and pressed a soft kiss to her cheek. “The best beginning.”

Rummaging through another box, you came across a tiny golden ornament with ‘2021’ etched into the side. It had been a custom gift from you to Alexia after that incredible year, the year she’d won her first Ballon d’Or. It was a little pair of football boots resting against a small version of the trophy itself, and you remembered how her face had lit up when she’d opened it.

“Oh, my little Ballon d’Or,” she murmured, her eyes sparkling as she held it up. “I can’t believe you thought of this, and I still don’t know how you made this happen.”

“It was just a little reminder of how proud I am of you,” you said, smiling. “And of how much you deserve everything you’ve achieved.”

She looked at you, her expression soft and grateful. “Having you by my side through it all made it even better, you know?” She hung the decoration close to the top of the tree, taking a moment to admire it as it caught the light.

The next ornament you reached for was one you’d picked up together at the Christmas market last year. It was a small, hand-painted wooden heart that the both of you had fallen in love with the moment you saw it. You traced the delicate lines of the paintwork, recalling the cold winter evening when you’d found it.

“Last Christmas,” you said, smiling at the memory and at the music chiming in your mind. “You insisted on carrying all those bags so I wouldn’t get cold.”

Alexia laughed, her eyes crinkling at the edges. “I wasn’t about to let you freeze. That was the best Christmas market I’ve ever been to.” She ran her finger along the ornament.

As you hung the wooden heart on a low branch, your fingers brushed against hers, and you paused, suddenly feeling the weight of all the memories you’d built together. Being with Alexia, creating these traditions, it all felt more special with each passing year.

As you continued adding ornaments, the tree started to fill with the little mementos of your life together, each piece telling a chapter of your journey. By the time you placed the last few ornaments on, the tree had come to life, sparkling with a blend of her football achievements and your shared milestones.

Finally, you reached for the last decoration in the box, a gift you’d planned as a surprise. You held it up for her, feeling your heart flutter with a mix of nerves and excitement.

“Alexia, I um, I actually got us something new for this year.”

Her eyes widened, and she leaned closer to get a better look. The ornament was simple, but you hoped meaningful. It was a small, golden key inside a clear glass ball, a nod to the new home you’d recently brought together.

“It’s beautiful,” she murmured, a gentle smile spreading across her face. “A key. Like, the key to our new place?”

You nodded, feeling a surge of happiness as she understood the meaning behind it. “Yeah, I thought it would be a nice way to remember this next step, even though we haven’t moved in yet. We do have a house together now.”

Alexia’s expression softened, and she took the ornament from your hands, looking at it with a mixture of love and happiness. “It’s perfect,” she said, her voice a bit hushed. “Thank you. I love it.”

Together, you found the perfect spot near the top of the tree for the golden key. Stepping back, you wrapped an arm around her waist, admiring the tree now glimmering with lights and all the memories you’d created. The football ornaments mingled seamlessly with your personal moments, creating a tree that truly represented you both.

Alexia pulled you close, pressing a tender kiss to your forehead. “Thank you for making this so special. For making all of this special.”

You looked up at her, feeling the same gratitude and warmth reflected in her gaze. “It’s all special because of you, Alexia. This whole life we’ve built together, I couldn’t ask for anything more.” She leaned down, capturing your lips in a gentle, lingering kiss.

[littlemissmentallyunstable]

Happy Hawthorne Christmas:

merry christmas to everyone reading this!! I hope you all have wonderful days, I thank you all very much for your love and support 💖💖 lowkey these headcannons are so bad so sorry but I wanted to make a post for xmas

taglist: @lovethornes @whatsamongus @wish-i-were-heather @inmyheaddd @never-enough-novels @fleuriosa @midiosaamor @sweetreveriee @emelia07 @f4iry-bell @zaraaaabear @thoughtdaughter3 @benny1989fredd @elysianwayy77 @maybxlle @sheisntyou @anintellectualintellectual @aleatorio1234 @adalia-jaycee @off-to-the-r4ces @lyra-kane @reminiscentreader @lyrakanefanatic @imaseabear @elizaa31 @loveinalocket @lanterns-and-daydreams @hermesenthusiast @eternal--dream

- every time rohan puts up mistletoe to kiss savannah under grayson takes it down

- libby does the twelve days of cookiemas

- xander makes an ornament of himself and puts it on the top of the tree because he is (quote) ‘the star of the family’

- grayson will return anything you get him for xmas

- jameson, xander and even grayson constantly make jokes about nash being one of santa’s elves (because he’s the shortest of the four of them)

- gigi once got a sugar high on candy canes and went around the house screaming christmas songs until she passed out

- avery has a whole drawer dedicated to christmas fluffy socks which she collects religiously and ONLY wears at christmas

- as a joke jameson stole and hid a pair and let’s just say… it wasn’t pretty

- max can recite every christmas movie known to man

- grayson knits christmas sweaters

- gigi starts christmas in august

- she has the brightest, craziest, rainbowest decorations ever that send grayson into a COMA

- xander eats his whole advent calendar on day one

- grayson 100% can play a violin solo of carol of the bells

- when the boys were little and tobias (ew) was strict about presents and christmas and just anything that resembled childhood joy, nash started the transition that the boys would open one present altogether on Christmas eve

- this was continues after tobias died

- nash gets cold so easily

- he also hates the snow for this reason

- BUTTTT libby loves snow so when she asks if he’d go on a snowy walk with her he practically bolted out of that door

- the christmas after emily died was the hardest christmas for jamie and gray to even be in the same room

- xander bought max a reindeer one year and they named it mince pie

- grayson = angel gabriel… need I say more

- gigi and xander always team up to find where their christmas presents are hidden

- seeing this nash and grayson play a little trick with really bad fake presents for them to find

- grayson refuses to start christmas until halfway through December

- christmas competition is a big part of a Hawthorne Christmas, along with secret Santa, there’s giant gingerbread house construction, best Christmas karaoke, ugliest christmas sweater and best christmas tree decorating competitions

- xander still believes in santa

- grayson is like one of those mum’s at christmas that will scream at you if you dare put a decoration in the wrong place on the tree

- he also colour coordinates all of his decor (silver and blue)

- rohan buys everyone socks

- jameson usually forgets he has to actually buy gifts for people (except avery)

- avery writes a letter every christmas to her mum that basically talks about her life that year, she seals the letter and never opens it and knows he mum reads it somehow somewhere

- drink or dare is always played at a hawthorne christmas

- savannah cannot wrap a present to save her life whereas rohan is practically an expert

- so naturally he loved to annoy her about it

- jameson wrapped himself up for avery to open

- one year gigi and xander were left to christmas dinner… that was the year the whole kitchen blew up and they ordered takeout instead

- avery and jameson have a tradition that every christmas eve they light a candle for avery’s mum and wait for it to burn out completely

- despite being a dancer lyra is horrible at ice skating

- when her and grayson went together she practically held onto him for dear life

- rohan never had christmas as a kid

- nash hates hot chocolate but didn’t have the heart to tell libby until three years into their relationship because she’d always make him cups

- avery always donates money away to charities at christmas

TIG masterlist

[goth-mami-writer]

¤ Sweet, Silver Affliction ¤

(Pt 2)

▪︎ King Baldwin x f!Reader arranged marriage AU work.

< ♡Follow for more!! ♡ >

You watched in your unwavered gaze above you as he reached forward, offering you a white gloved hand to help you to your feet. It seemed that the many voices of the court had silenced in the moment that you were gently brought to stand in front of him, and this time, you didn't care if anyone was watching.

From his grasp of your careful, nearly trembling hand, you felt as his fingers grazed down your arm in a gesture that had to be either entirely intentional or simply mindless just by the unspoken stare down at you. He held you like a glass ornament, fragile to the touch and for the first time your heart pattered in a swoon for more of his attention.

“What an honor I have to host you.” He said from beneath the mask, nodding down to you where you could see his eyes more closely,

“Tell me your name. I want to hear it from your tongue. Not of my advisors who cannot speak its language of origin.”

You felt the corners of your smile curling up at the sound of his warm greeting and you felt his intense gaze focus to your mouth when you told him your name.

“Beautiful.” He said shortly before his other hand then raised slowly to the bridal veil that still hung from your face.

He pinched the fine fabric softly, making your heart thunder in response. In your country, a bride's veil was not removed…until the wedding night.

Because of this, your eyes looked away worriedly, wondering if he really meant for you to be removed of it right here and now. Your breathing shallowed, and he was aware of your hesitation when he asked calmly to ground you back to his gaze,

“I understand it would be breaking your country's tradition. But may I see your face in full?”

You only nodded, somehow trusting him that he wasn't intentionally breaking your own customs without good reason.

His gloved hands carefully rose to untie the small silk knots from behind your ears, letting your sacred wedding veil slip to his palm where he then stayed silent. You searched for his reaction that remained hidden in his hardened stare, his blue pale eyes telling of no reaction at all when he stared down to you now.

Suddenly, a man approached his side, telling of a matter at hand that was becoming urgent for the king's attention. Baldwin nodded only once with a tilt of his silver mask that was burned into your vision now, and he then spoke as he turned over his shoulder shortly,

“Take her.”

You became confused until your nurse came to your side, telling you that you would be shown to your royal chambers while the king finished a matter of business. Your head spun to watch the king leave directly in a herd of his council and advisors, wanting nothing more than to know...if he might have liked you from his first glance that was presumably unintelligible.

But his touch.

The remaining feelings of hands upon you were damning. It felt as if he were handling art that could perish beneath his fingertips if not perfectly careful. Why was he so delicate?

There weren't many aspects of your first meeting that made sense to you as you were led away. But the one truth that kept you steady until you saw the king again was that he had you entranced in curiosity with hardly a conversation shared between you.

~~

You bided time alone in your chambers in the hours later. The servants had brought you wine and supper from a meal that had been prepared in your honor. It felt strange to be secluded so quickly but truly you didn't want to be with any others now.

Before you dined, you wished your nurse safe travels on her journey back to Hadjari. She spoke of informing your father that you'd made it safely and that surely he'd visit soon. You saw tears in her eyes as she embraced you for the last time before leaving for much longer than she'd ever left you. Even as a child.

You stayed by the open balcony window in your chamber, listening as the hanging linen curtains billowed away with the winds that carried song through the Citadel. The room where you would make bed took you by surprise. It was opulent with furnishings that surprised you even for Jerusalem. Even the linens in your home palace could be scratchy, but these were smooth as cool satin.

As you watched the sky finally darken into the dimming shade you knew to be your wedding night, you felt you still had much to understand of your new way of life. Secretly, you hoped that the king would be patient with your transition. All you'd ever known was your country, and everything turned all at once…felt jarring.

There was a soft brush from behind you and you turned to see through the swaying curtains who came approaching.

When a glint of silver caught a ray of the twilighting sky, your blood warmed to know that it was Baldwin himself.

“Princess..” He spoke, nodding as he neared you closer, pulling away one of the sheer curtains behind him.

You stood nearly in panic, unsure now of how to accommodate him with a welcome. Your body made sure to curtsy this time- making up for your failed attempt at your first meeting.

The king held up his hand, making your breath hitch as to what he could say before your very pulse would ring in your ears,

“There’s no need for formality in private.”

You rose, nodding to the suggestion as he came to your side at the balcony, placing his hands upon the stone half wall that oversaw the hillsides. It was polite to make cordial conversation. You knew that, but Hebrew was still very unnatural in your mouth. However, you tried, feigning the words confidently in hopes he'd admire at least your effort.

“Your presence is…mighty, my lord. Please forgive my need for respect.” You mentioned, hoping he'd understand that you would have to get used to not bowing, kneeling, and practically worshipping every time he stepped into a room.

Unbeknownst to you, Baldwin heard the shake in your town when you spoke his language and he tilted his head towards you, hoping to somehow make you more comfortable beside him now that the two of you were alone.

“You shouldn't be shy of your accent. One's mother tongue is a trait that surmises us. If I could speak yours, I would. But you've done well enough to learn mine. I must thank you. As for respect, you should know that I am first and foremost a man as any other.”

Your heart softened to hear him praise you for learning a feat that he himself didn't and you nodded gratefully, taking the compliment along with a blush that you tried to hide by turning your face away slightly.

Until you felt his hand cup against your chin to turn your gaze back to him with the gentleness of a breath.

Your heart felt like stopping when you saw that his eyes were scanning each of your features now. From your eyes, the texture of your hair and the smoothness of your skin. The silence felt as harsh as hands that choked one's throat from air, but you were given breath at long last when asked quietly,

“Tell me your true age. I am not a man of wager…but I would bet that I am older than you, Princess.”

When you told him of your age, feeling an ache to your insides when his hand stayed at your chin, you watched his reaction carefully. The king never showed anger. It was known, but you wanted to see if you could discern if he was upset about your age being younger than he'd thought.

But he kept firm in the eyes.

“Eighteen… and married to a leper. It is a crime in everything but the title. However, there is one thing the Tuunda’anian lords did not confuse.”

Your breath shuddered waiting for him to finish, making you hold your breath,

“-You are striking. Truly a desert flower. The comparison between us…stands taller than the Jordan.”

Your heart felt a pang of deep, deep regret from your previous feelings upon hearing his reply. Even if it was laced with a compliment to your own beauty. It was all too obvious that he was aware of his plagued body and how it could affect your feelings. He seemed softer, more humbled than you expected. What could you feel now given this?

“Come-” he then spoke muffledly while his eyes gestured to the settee inside your chamber,

“Let us discuss.”

You moved with him to the grand cushioned sofa that lay close to your bed. He watched you wonder if you should help him move or make him comfortable, and he held up his hand to halt you, truly not wanting to be embarrassed if you began to cater to him.

“You must have strong feelings about coming here. Such a long way to travel feels somewhat punishing when one's destination isn't where they intend to go. I'd like for you to be honest with me. Always. What are your opinions of this arrangement?”

You became still as you watched him ask that question.

Your body fell downwards in a slump that lowered so many guarded facades of what to say, how to feel, and how to look while feeling it. Your eyes watered in a release of your terror to be so far away from home with no one to guide you, and you choked warm tears from falling.

He watched you lower your immense charade of being unaffected by such great change in one day, and he calmed you with a tender mention between you,

“Your sorrows are not unheard, little one. Bravery that would lead one to another world so blindly is a useless commodity sold by fools who are also blind. Have no shame in your fear. It will harbor no judgement from me.”

You sniffed to help clear your throat and your glassy eyes that were fogged by tears, and you nodded, feeling as his soft gloved hand moved the hair away from your brow…..lovingly. After a heavy swallow, you said, letting your distinct accent rattle in comfort you thought you'd never feel so quickly in his presence,

“I want to make….my father proud. He is without my mother now and is pained from the loss. So…I want to be a good wife and…bear your children as I should. I will learn to accept Jerusalem as my home. With time.”

Baldwin remained silent, watching you as you plead to him your very mature thinking for a girl your age. You had traveled from a far land that you loved all for the likes of pleasing your father…by marrying a leper who was one bloodshed away from not seeing your first anniversary. His weight shifted in his chair, and you turned your eyes to watch him lean closer on the settee to tell you quietly,

“Princess, I am nothing if not candid. It will be determined by the almighty alone…if I could bear children being this ill. Your young fertility was encouraged for the better of outcomes…but being my seed bearer was not the first wish to be fulfilled by this arrangement.”

You nodded while watching his mask tilt and turn when he spoke, something you found yourself enjoying to see more and more as the comfort became more pronounced between you two in those tender moments of consolement and shared reason. But you wondered something as the silence crept back in between you.

He noticed the change in your face as if you were trying to swallow words instead of saying them, and he asked you shortly, almost commanding you to reveal your thoughts softly,

“Speak.”

You took a ragged breath and asked the question you wanted to be careful of all night,

“Is that…why I was brought to my own room..and not your chambers? Will…we ever be sharing the bed?”

You stayed eerily quiet knowing that this topic could be a sensitive one, but you heard the king grow quiet as well. Surely, you didn't mean consummation. Not with that straight of a face about it. But instead, sharing his bed in sleep. The silence now felt to be more than just his eyes taking in your body language, reading your face and fidgets. He was…having to find words. You began to prepare an apology until he spoke, shifting his weight once again,

“My dear…you must be aware…that my leprosy has rendered my body…deplorable to see?”

“Yes, your grace.” You said, nodding with emphasis that you understood that very much, but he went on, seeming to become more and more perplexed by the second.

“You know this….yet you still ask me sincerely whether or not we will share the bed for the night? You are braver than I assumed. At my most hopeful..I thought you would assume me to be the tyrant that Persian lords near your home portray me to be. I would gladly shoulder that burden if it meant… not living as an invalid.”

You found a smile and hoped that he wouldn't take offense as you grew into a laugh. With effort, you remained poised in the face, to a degree, one that made him focus his eyes harder, wanting you to smile away from your previous tearful moments truly. You held back your small laugh thinking of what your father had once told you of the lords of Persia and told the king in small, muted joy,

“I never thought you were a tyrant. Honestly. And, you should know…that neither myself nor my father would trust a Persian Lord to tell us the color of the sky.”

Together, you both found a shared chuckle, one that made your shoulders shake gently and one that made his mask tremble when his smile turned up much wider than it had been in a long time. He promised that you'd said the wisest words of his entire evening, and while he took the breath needed to refrain from laughing more, he calmly stood.

“The moon is getting high, Princess. I won't keep you.”

You told him that you'd walk with him to the door, and you stood, noticing how it felt now to stand before him, unlike the hours before where it felt to be a marvel. You felt closer to him now. Somehow, with only a few hours known between you. He wasn't a god. But he was right. He was firstly a man, a young man of merely twenty-three.

You thought you'd both turn to start for your door, but you both felt stopped. That bravery he spoke of, the blind, useless bravery had never felt more real when you took one step closer to him to almost close the gap between you both. You stared up to his silvered eyes that searched upon your own, perhaps thinking the same of what…this feeling was.

Baldwin was slow as he reached forward, finding his own short, ragged breath when his hands met your arms like an instinct. Your face softened to feel him cupping his palms upon you once again, raising them up in ease now to meet your shoulders. He watched your mouth open, panting for the needed air to survive this silent yet violent interaction of feeling, and his hands continued.

They curved atop your shoulders, meeting your collar lazily with his fingertips dragging as they rose across your neck and nape. The king himself felt ignited to this unspoken excitement, and he was sure you heard his short breathing muffled by the mask. When your own hands met his, first curving around his taut arms and then his hands that were met at your cheeks, you knew you were trembling, but you couldn't stop.

When his thumb brushed somewhat exploratively at your bottom lip, making your breath heave harder, that blind bravery made your head turn. And when your eyes closed, you pressed your mouth to the palm of his gloved hand in a kiss that you knew spoke of everything you felt.

The king's eyes widened, something you saw happen in the second you pulled away. The two of you were lost now, chugging for air and hesitating for the next move. Your faces were inches apart in the space where you began to share short breaths, and Baldwin was the first to break the silence, trying to acknowledge between you what had just taken place.

“Do….we deny that there's…mutual attraction?”

“N-no, my king.” You said, feeling like the words fell from your mouth like the mutterings of a dream.

But there was his silence again. You didn't know if there was a coin expensive enough in the world to pay for his thinking. But you wanted to know every drop in every river of his mind when his pale eyes could only search you this way.

He left your chamber with a swiftness that felt cold, more so undeserving as the sound of the heavy door felt sharp like a blade.

Where was his mind, for he too didn't understand as he trudged weakly back to his chambers. You would tremble at the first sight of him. No matter your bravery. He would have to wear the mask for the remainder of your marriage…or lose you to an image you could never unsee.

[coochiequeens]

Women’s history just became even richer

By Marco Margaritoff | Edited By John Kuroski

Published March 14, 2025

Items found with the skeletons — including iron arrowheads, horse harnesses, and a broken vase — helped researchers trace back the burial to the 4th century B.C.

Institute of Archaeology RASThe oldest woman found in the grave wore a calathos, which is a ceremonial headdress.

Archaeologists in Russia have uncovered the remains of four Amazon women of different ages buried in the same tomb. According to CNN, this is the first time in history that such a discovery has been made.

Published by the Institute of Archaeology of the Russian Academy of Sciences, a new study estimates one girl to have been between 12 and 13 years old when she died. The second was aged 20 to 29, the third was 25 to 35, and the fourth was 45 to 50.

The tomb itself was built from clay and oak blocks.

Items discovered at the burial site — iron arrowheads, a bird-shaped hook made of iron, horse harnesses, harness hooks, iron knives, animal bones, various vessels, and a broken, black vase — all helped researchers estimate the burial to have taken place during the 4th century B.C.

This suggests the warrior women were Scythians, who were ancient warriors living throughout Siberia between 200 and 900 B.C. Female Scythians, in turn, were Amazons — and the inspiration behind Wonder Woman.

The more magical elements, of course, have yet to be discovered.

Institute of Archaeology RASThe excavation took place at a cemetery called Devitsa V, which contains 19 burial mounds.

This remarkable find took place at a cemetery in the Voronezh region of Russia called Devitsa V. The site is comprised of 19 burial mounds, and has been studied since 2010. It took an entire decade, however, for the Don Archaeological Society of the RAS to excavate these specific remains.

“The Amazons are common Scythian phenomenon and during the last decade our expedition has discovered approximately 11 burials of young armed women,” said Valerii Guliaev, head of the expedition.

“Separate barrows were filled for them and all burial rites which were usually made for men were done for them.”

The ancient personal items of this stunning discovery carry with them priceless ancient information that clarifies just how these people lived, millennia ago. While the girl and one of the young woman’s graves were ravaged by robbers in ancient times, the other graves were left undisturbed.

One young woman was buried as a “horseman,” which meant her body underwent a rather macabre tradition that includes cutting the tendons in the legs. Underneath her left shoulder was a bronze mirror, two spears, and a glass bead bracelet along her left side and hand.

At her legs laid a one-armed drinking cup and a dish adorned with a black lacquer design.

In addition to the headdress, many other priceless artifacts were also found.

The average life expectancy for a Scythian woman was between 30 and 35, making the oldest woman’s age at the time of death impressive enough. The calathos, or ceremonial headdress adorned with floral ornamented plates and pendants, however, was just as surprising.

The jewelry she was buried with was 65 to 70 percent gold, with copper, silver, and iron comprising the rest. Scythian jewelry has previously been found to contain far less gold. She was also buried with an iron knife that was wrapped in fabric, and an iron arrowhead with a forked end.

The researchers explained that the headdress was shocking to find, as so few of them even survived the burial itself, not to mention the years before people dug them up. Archaeologists typically find mere fragments of these calathos, rather than entirely preserved ones.

Besides the intriguing, ancient objects found in the middle of Siberia, the fact that no one has ever found for Amazons buried in the same grave before makes this rather exciting. There’s no telling what researchers will find in the remaining mounds at Devitsa V.

After learning about the ancient Scythian Amazon warrior women being uncovered in Russia, read about the Slavic warrior woman buried with weaponry in a Danish Viking cemetery. Then, learn about the ancient warrior woman unearthed in Armenia who may have been an Amazon.

[s-u-f-j-a-n-s-t-e-v-e-n-s]

"Silver & Gold: Songs for Christmas, Vols 6-10" vinyl box set is available now for pre-order, for the first time since its original release in 2012, via Asthmatic Kitty Records.

More info: "Silver & Gold: Songs for Christmas, Vols. 6-10 expands on the tradition of Sufjan Stevens’ first box-set "Songs for Christmas, Vols. 1-5" and features nearly 60-tracks that investigate the canon of devotional hymns and holiday pop songs, as well as 18-original songs from Sufjan.

Two versions of the release are available now for pre-order, and will be released on November 1, 2024. The LP box set features an array of holiday-themed bonus items designed by Sufjan and friends and is available exclusively via the AKR shop. The collection will also be available at record stores as a standalone LP set for the first time, featuring all 5 releases (6 LPs) assembled in a slipcase. This version includes just the albums, with the additional holiday merchandise available only with the AKR vinyl box set. 

Inside The Box Set:

5 EPs on 6 vinyl records

Christmas sticker sheet

Temporary tattoo sheet 

Three paper ornaments (self-assembly with directions)

An apocalyptic pull-out poster

A 44-page songbook with lyrics and chord charts (sing along with your friends and enemies)

A 20-page Christmas coloring book by Stephen Halker

Hallucinogenic photographs and psychedelic graphic design

Extensive liner notes (introductory salutations and an essay on the Christmas tree by Sufjan Stevens, and a few theological words on the End Times by Pastor Vito Aiuto)

In addition to the Silver & Gold LP box set, AKR is excited to offer exclusive merchandise inspired by Silver & Gold. Available for pre-order now, choose from a woven blanket, mock-neck shirt, beanie, mug or the Silver & Gold Songbook (now available separately from the box set)."

[bastart13]

How did you go about redesigning the clothes in you remaster?

Ooh great question! I'll go into more detail below, but the gist is that I broke down each character into their vibes and general aesthetic and tried fitting it to my design biases.

I tend towards more grounded designs than the original JRPG-inspired armour and clothes, so I referenced a lot of medieval fashion for the setting. You'll usually see me covering bared skin in battle outfits or toning down extra details I struggle to draw

Then, using those references, I'd try to thumbnail basic shapes and colours to figure out which works best

(More specific character notes below)

For some characters like Iseul, I didn't feel much need to change his outfit so I mostly toned down the detail to suit my style. I shifted the colour scheme to something warmer and removed the fur and extra armour to serve his image as animal-loving and battle-avoidant. This serves as great contrast to his timeskip outfit where he then commits to being both a warrior and a prince, with more ornamentation and practical armour

I designed Helena and Alain as contrasts. They have very similar themes and designs, so I decided to smooth Alain down into the picture-perfect metal knight while Helena's wilder and asymmetric. I referenced more realistic armour for Alain but overall I wanted to keep his clothes similar.

For Helena, my design style is more practical and thematically I want to avoid Helena baring skin and vulnerability so I extended her corset into more of a chest armour and covered her other thigh. To add to her duality of magic and metal, I gave one arm armour and bared the other to show off magical scars.

August and Altea's designs are where I start to venture off into more vibes-based outfits. August is humble and traditional, a knight with proud loyalty to his Lord and family, so I gave him medieval colours to represent both on his tabard. The armour is still there, but it's less focus on metal and more on "cheaper" materials to serve as a contrast to his timeskip where he becomes a proper knight in shining armour. For that reason, I took away the cape and other unnecessary decoration.

Then Altea is flashy, wealthy, and bright. I kept the focus on light armour, with scalemail as the only obvious protection. I've mentioned before but I took inspiration from south east asian fashion (mostly cambodia and malaysia) as a grounded but ornate basis for her magical girl theme. Here the colour scheme and fabrics are what mostly connects it to the original

Similarly, Lennox is where vibes rule and the overal aesthetic changes quite a bit. He's often described with "choir boy" hair, so I wanted to combine choir robes with ornate priestly outfits to sell him as a vain cult-leader. I kept the symmetry, long coat, and lack of obvious armour, but I wanted him to look less modern and stick with less structured outfits.

One thing specific to the generals, is that I wanted to give them more of a variety to colour palettes to sell that while they're working together, they're not exactly happy about it. While they all have a focus of blue and silver to keep them cohesive, they each have a motif: Alain - silver, Helena - pale blue, Jinhai - brown, Lennox - dark blue, Magnus - turquoise

[tobiosbbyghorl]

Hyper & Chill | psh

act 45: christmas prep and birthdays

prev

With the company gala approaching and the holiday season settling in, you and Sunghoon decided it was time to finally decorate your apartment for Christmas.

So, one chilly afternoon in November, the two of you found yourselves at a massive holiday store, pushing a cart through aisles lined with wreaths, fairy lights, and an overwhelming selection of Christmas ornaments.

“Okay, first things first,” you announced, turning to Sunghoon. “Are we going for a classic red-and-gold theme or something more modern, like silver and blue?”

Sunghoon raised a brow, hands tucked into his coat pockets. “We’re definitely doing white and gold.”

You scoffed. “So you get to decide?”

“I manage finances,” he smirked. “I make strategic investments.”

Rolling your eyes, you grabbed a red ornament and dramatically held it up. “Then I’m investing in these.”

Sunghoon sighed, crossing his arms. “Fine. But if our tree ends up looking like a confused candy cane, it’s on you.”

As you continued browsing, you stopped at a section filled with stockings. You picked up a fluffy white one and turned to him. “Do you want one with your name on it?”

Sunghoon grinned. “You’re really making me part of your Christmas traditions, huh?”

“You are part of them now,” you said casually, but

the warmth in your voice didn’t go unnoticed.

Sunghoon’s gaze softened before he leaned in slightly, murmuring, “Then, yeah. I want one.”

—

Back home, you both spent the evening decorating—well, mostly you decorating while Sunghoon provided unhelpful commentary from the couch.

“That ornament is crooked.”

“You’re crooked,” you muttered, stepping back to admire your work.

Sunghoon smirked. “That doesn’t even make sense.”

Despite his teasing, he did eventually help—hanging up lights, adjusting the stockings, and making sure the tree topper was perfectly in place.

As you sprawled out on the couch afterward, sipping hot chocolate, you turned to him and asked, “So, what do you want for Christmas?”

Sunghoon thought for a moment before smirking. “You, in a bow.”

You kicked him lightly. “Be serious!”

He chuckled, catching your foot and pulling you closer. “Okay, fine. I don’t know—maybe a new watch?”

You hummed. “Noted.”

Then, with a grin, you added, “What about your birthday? That’s coming up too.”

Sunghoon stretched, feigning nonchalance. “Surprise me.”

You rolled your eyes. “That’s no help.”

“You always know what to get me,” he said simply. “I trust you.”

And with that, he tugged you against him, pressing a soft kiss to your temple as the Christmas lights cast a warm glow around you.

Little did he know—you had already planned the perfect birthday surprise.

Sunghoon was the type to never replace things unless they were completely worn out. His Prada wallet? He’d been using it for years, despite it looking slightly worn around the edges. His cologne? He stuck to his signature scents, never venturing beyond his favorites. Jewelry? He rarely bought himself any, yet always admired the subtle elegance of Tiffany & Co. pieces when you passed by the store.

So, this year, you decided to get him everything he wouldn’t buy for himself.

—

Step 1: Sending Sunghoon Away

“Are you sure you don’t want me to stay?” Sunghoon asked, squinting at you suspiciously as he pulled on his coat.

“Yes,” you said quickly, pushing him toward the door. “Go hang out with your friends. It’s your birthday weekend, and you barely make time for them.”

Sunghoon narrowed his eyes. “I barely make time for them? Or you don’t want me around for some reason?”

You gasped dramatically. “Wow, no trust at all.”

Sunghoon smirked but relented, leaning in to kiss your forehead. “Fine. But if I come home and you’re hiding a secret second boyfriend—”

“I’ll make sure to hide him really well,” you deadpanned.

With a laugh, Sunghoon finally left, and as soon as the door closed, you grabbed your bag and bolted out of the apartment.

—

Step 2: Shopping for the Perfect Gifts

First stop: Prada.

You walked straight to the glass case where the wallet Sunghoon had been eyeing was displayed. The sales assistant recognized your enthusiasm instantly.

“Looking for something special?” she asked with a smile.

“Yes! My boyfriend’s birthday is tomorrow, and he refuses to replace his wallet. But I know he wants this one,” you said, pointing to the sleek black Prada cardholder.

“Classic choice,” she nodded, wrapping it in their signature packaging.

Next stop: His colognes.

Sunghoon was picky with scents, so you stuck to what you knew—restocking his all-time favorites.

Then, onto Tiffany & Co.

You couldn’t resist getting something matching—a bracelet and a ring set, simple yet elegant, perfect for everyday wear. The moment you saw them, you knew Sunghoon would love them.

And finally, the most important purchase: a silky red bow.

For yourself.

Because technically, Sunghoon did say he wanted you as his present.

—

Step 3: Decorating & Setting Up

By the time you got home, you had everything planned.

You decorated the apartment with balloons, fairy lights, and a big Happy Birthday sign hanging over the dining area. On the table, you neatly arranged his gifts, each wrapped with precision (and a little too much tape, but it was the thought that counted).

And finally, you set your alarm for extra early the next morning.

—

At exactly 7 AM, you carefully slipped out of bed, leaving Sunghoon snoring softly under the covers.

You made his favorite breakfast—pancakes with fresh berries, crispy bacon, and a side of coffee. Then, you arranged everything on a tray, placing it beside the neatly wrapped gifts on the table.

Once everything was perfect, you returned to the bedroom, sliding under the covers and pressing soft kisses against Sunghoon’s cheek.

“Hmm,” he groaned, shifting slightly.

You kissed his forehead. “Happy birthday, Lolove.”

Sunghoon slowly blinked his eyes open, a lazy smile spreading across his face. “Morning,” he mumbled. Then, realization hit. “Wait, is that—”

He shot up, eyes scanning the decorated apartment before landing on the gifts.

“You didn’t—”

“I did.”

Sunghoon ran a hand through his messy hair, looking completely flustered. “You didn’t have to do all this—”

“But I wanted to,” you said, wrapping your arms around his waist. “Now, come on. Breakfast first, gifts after.”

Still dazed, Sunghoon let you lead him to the table, where he sat down, rubbing his face with a mix of love and exasperation.

“You really did all this while I was sleeping?” he asked, staring at the food and decorations.

“Yup.”

Sunghoon exhaled, shaking his head. “You’re insane.”

“But you love me.”

“So much,” he muttered, before digging into his food.

—

After breakfast, Sunghoon picked up the first gift.

“You really went all out, huh?” he mused, carefully unwrapping the first box.

His Prada wallet.

Sunghoon froze.

“You—” His mouth opened, closed, then opened again. “You knew?”

You giggled. “You’re not subtle, Lolove. You’ve been eyeing that for months.”

He let out a breathy chuckle, shaking his head as he ran his fingers over the smooth leather. “I can’t believe you actually got it.”

“Next one!” you urged, eager to see his reaction.

One by one, Sunghoon unwrapped the rest—his favorite colognes, the Tiffany bracelet and ring set.

But it was the jewelry that left him speechless.

“Matching?” he murmured, sliding the bracelet onto his wrist.

“Matching,” you confirmed, slipping your own on.

Sunghoon exhaled, looking up at you with so much love in his eyes.

“I don’t deserve you,” he muttered.

“You definitely do.”

He pulled you onto his lap, kissing you slowly, as if memorizing every second.

—

For dinner, you took Sunghoon to an upscale restaurant, both of you dressed to the nines—him in an all-black suit, you in an elegant white dress.

Throughout the meal, Sunghoon kept playing with the bracelet on his wrist, occasionally glancing at you with a soft smile.

“I still can’t believe you did all this,” he murmured, twirling the stem of his wine glass.

“You better believe it, because you deserve it.”

Sunghoon sighed, shaking his head. “Best birthday ever.”

Little did he know—it wasn’t over yet.

—

Back home, you excused yourself, telling Sunghoon to wait in the living room.

He had no idea what was coming.

After slipping into a white lace lingerie set, you tied the silky red bow around your waist, adjusting it perfectly. Taking a deep breath, you stepped out of the bedroom.

Sunghoon, who had been sipping wine, nearly choked.

“Oh.”

His eyes darkened immediately, scanning every inch of you before landing on the bow.

“You got me everything I wanted,” he murmured, standing up and slowly approaching. “But this—” He swallowed, fingers ghosting over the ribbon. “This might be my favorite.”

“You did say you wanted me as a present,” you teased.

Sunghoon chuckled, shaking his head before gently pushing you onto the bed.

“You’re the best gift I’ve ever gotten,” he murmured, pressing a slow, deep kiss against your lips.

And let’s just say—Sunghoon made very good use of his final present that night.

As Sunghoon hovered over you, his fingers traced the silky red bow tied around your waist. His eyes, dark with emotion, flickered between the ribbon and your flushed face.

“You really went all out for me,” he murmured, his voice deep and smooth, sending shivers down your spine.

“You deserve it,” you whispered, reaching up to brush his hair back.

His lips quirked into a small smirk, but there was a tenderness in his expression. “I don’t think you realize how much I love you,” he said, his thumb stroking over your cheek.

Your breath hitched. “Then show me.”

That was all it took for Sunghoon to pull the ribbon loose, the fabric gliding across your skin as he unraveled the gift you had become.

His hands were slow, deliberate, as if unwrapping something precious. He took his time memorizing every inch of you—his fingers mapping the curves of your waist, his lips pressing soft, lingering kisses to your collarbone, your shoulders, and the swell of your chest.

“You’re beautiful,” he murmured, his voice filled with awe.

Your hands found their way to his back, your fingers tracing the toned muscles beneath his shirt before tugging at the fabric. He chuckled softly, pulling it over his head before leaning down to kiss you again—this time deeper, filled with need and adoration.

Sunghoon wasn’t in a rush. He wanted to take his time, to make sure you felt every bit of love he had for you.

And he did.

Every kiss, every whisper against your skin, every soft moan exchanged in the dim glow of your bedroom—it was a promise. That no matter what, he would always choose you. Always love you.

That night, you weren’t just his gift.

You were his everything.

©️tobiosbbyghorl - all rights reserved

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[hisui-dreamer]

where the light is dim

Pairing: Malleus Draconia x gn!reader

Synopsis: everyone's wandered off in the festival, and you can't even find a familiar face

Tags: poetic themes, fluff, diasomnia shenanigans

Word count: 436

Notes: happy chinese new year everyone🧧🏮🎆!! this was heavily inspired by a chinese poem that takes place on new years (which i attempted a translation of below hehe), and plus it's the year of the dragon, so now we have mal mal festival time (⁠ ⁠╹⁠▽⁠╹⁠ ⁠)

Masterlist

The east wind blows breezes a thousand blossoming trees,

The stars, like rain, descend like a gentle breeze.

Bejewelled carriages and fine horses leave a fragrant trail on the road,

Phoenix flutes resound in the wind, the jade lantern’s light flows,

All night, the fish and dragon lanterns dance.

Maidens adorned with gold, extravagant pins in their hair,

Smiling shyly, fragrance lingering in the air.

In the crowd, searching countless times,

Suddenly, turning my head,

There stands the one, where the light is dim.

―青玉案・元夕 辛棄疾

The street pulses with energy, vibrant and bustling beneath a canopy of scarlet lanterns that sway gently in the evening breeze. Each lantern, adorned with intricate designs and tassels, casts a warm, inviting glow that bathes the cobblestone pavement below in a rich crimson hue.

The air is alive with the hum of chatter and laughter, as locals and visitors alike meander through the thoroughfare, their footsteps echoing against the ancient brick walls that line the street. Vendors peddle their wares from colourful stalls, their voices competing with the lively strains of traditional music that drift from nearby taverns and teahouses.

'Where is he?' you thought to yourself, tired from the heavy ornaments painstakingly styled into your hair as you turned and turned your head to catch even a glimpse of him amidst the bustling crowd.

Malleus had invited you to a short trip to the Far East, prompted by Silver's longing to explore the lands of his childhood hero, and swiftly organized by Lilia's enthusiastic urging. You're not sure whether Lilia was aware of it or not, your travels happened to coincide with a grand local festival.

The street offers a multitude of intrigue, from mouth-watering scents from the food skewers to the delicate souvenirs hand-crafted by merchants, and it's not long before you find yourselves gradually becoming separated from the group amidst the bustling crowd. The allure of the vibrant surroundings pulls each person in a different direction, until eventually, you can no longer spot any familiar faces amidst the sea of glamorous outfits adorning the local ladies.

A whirring noise catches your attention, and you turn to the direction of the sound. Your gaze is met with the spectacle of fireworks illuminating the night sky, their explosions of brilliance painting the heavens with vibrant hues, scattering glittering sparks like diamonds. Brilliant reds, dazzling blues, and alluring golds intertwine and collide, creating a breathtaking tapestry of colour that captivates all who gaze upon it.

It's a view you want to share with him.

You weave through the crowd once again, deftly sidestepping opulent carriages and elegant ladies. Their alluring perfume mingles with the joyous melodies of the flutes, enveloping you in a whirlwind of sensation that leaves you momentarily dizzy.

A glance down a narrow alley catches your attention, and in the distance, a lone lantern flickers. Squinting to sharpen your focus, you realise you've found the very person you're looking for.

Malleus, tucked away in the shadowy corner, his focus fixed solely upon a weathered lion stone statue.

You can't help the exasperated smile that graces your lips.

Maybe you should've expected that.

Masterlist

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[whencyclopedia]

The Nimrud Ivories: Their Discovery & History

In 1845 CE, the archaeologist Austen Henry Layard began excavations at the ruins of the city of Nimrud in the region which is northern Iraq in the present day. Layard's expedition was part of a larger movement at the time to uncover ancient sites in Mesopotamia, which would corroborate stories found in the Bible, specifically in books in the Old Testament such as Genesis and Jonah. The archaeologists who excavated the sites throughout Mesopotamia in the mid-19th century CE were seeking physical evidence to support accounts of the Great Flood, the Tower of Babel, and cities such as Nineveh and Calah, among other biblical references. Their work, ironically, would have the complete opposite effect of what was intended: they discovered a civilization that existed long before the first biblical books were written, one which had, in fact, produced the first stories concerning a global flood and an ark, and which was far more advanced than had previously been thought. These discoveries would revolutionize human understanding of world history which, previously, had been heavily influenced by the Bible's version of events. Prior to these expeditions, little was known about Mesopotamian history outside of the Assyrians and Babylonians because they were the people best documented by the Greek historians and mentioned in the Bible. The great Mesopotamian cities of the past lay buried under the sands after the fall of the Assyrian Empire in 612 BCE, and their histories lay buried with them.

History of the City and Discovery of the Ivories

When Layard began his work at Nimrud, he did not even know which city he was excavating. He believed he had discovered Nineveh and, in fact, published his best-selling book on the excavation, Nineveh and its Remains, in 1849 CE, still confident in that belief. His book was so popular, and the artifacts he uncovered so intriguing, that further expeditions to the region were quickly funded. Further work in the region established that the ruins Layard had uncovered were not those of Nineveh but of another city, which was then referred to as Nimrud. The archaeologist William K. Loftus took over from Layard in 1854 CE and excavated Nimrud further discovering, among other treasures, the magnificent works of art known today as the Nimrud Ivories (also as the Loftus Ivories). Nimrud was an important city in ancient Mesopotamia known as Kalhu (also Caleh, Calah), which became the capital of the Assyrian Empire under Ashurnasirpal II (reigned 884-859 BCE), who moved the central government there from the traditional capital of Ashur.

The city existed as an important trade center from at least the 1st millennium BCE. It was located directly on a prosperous route just north of Ashur and south of Nineveh. The Assyrian Empire was ruled from Kalhu from 879-706 BCE, when Sargon II (reigned 722-705 BCE) moved the capital to his new city of Dur-Sharrukin (Khorsabad). Following the death of Sargon II, his son Sennacherib (reigned 705-681 BCE) abandoned Dur-Sharrukin and moved the capital to Nineveh. Kalhu continued to be an important city to the Assyrians, however, and the palaces and residences were richly adorned and ornamented with gold, silver, precious gems, and the intricate works of art that have come to be known as the Nimrud Ivories.

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