#with each holiday like this I have even less of a desire to see the next one
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chin-up-and-drown-slower · 2 years ago
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Another holiday by myself, because nobody around me takes the pandemic seriously. And my family has proven time and time again that they can't be trusted to stay home when they're sick -- and lie by omission about being sick to begin with.
Merry Christmas to me.
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am-i-the-asshole-official · 9 months ago
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WIBTA for asking my SO to do something that they have trauma around?
I don't know when this will be posted but as of writing we are about 2 weeks post valentines day. Ages and genders irrelevant, we're in our 20s and queer.
So I have not been with Jordan long, but we knew each out for a few months as friends before we got together, and have been close pretty much all of the time we've known each other. This is to say, I know them pretty well despite us not actually having been dating that long.
Because we were already friends I knew going into the relationship, without Jordan specifically saying anything, that they had plans on Valentines day. They got tickets to a concert I wasn't interested in a decent amount of time before we got together.
Obviously, not an issue in the slightest, and neither of us brought up anything regarding Valentines day. It was a week day, so I was working all day, and then the time of the concert meant there was no possibility of meeting up after, just not meant to be this year. I thought we were in the same boat just silently agreeing that the timing wasn't right but that it wasn't a big enough deal to even be worth bringing up, especially in such a new relationship.
Some backstory on me: I'm a hopeless romantic and have a kind of cute aesthetic? I like dressing in bright colours, and some of my favourite outfits have prints of hearts, flowers, and cherries. Needless to say I really enjoy the aesthetic of Valentines day, and I've always kind of fantasised about being able to spend it with someone I have romantic feelings for. I've only had two romantic relationships before this and the first one only lasted 6 months and didn't make it to Valentines day, and in the second we both contracted the same bug and were horribly sick throughout February.
Obviously I don't think you should only do things for your SO on Valentines day, but I think it would be fun to have the chance to really get into it! In the past I've organised Valentines day events with my other single friends where we dress in pink and have heart shaped foods etc and those have been great, but haven't quite satisfied my desire to have a Romantic Valentines.
So, despite the fact that my SO was busy, I wanted to do a little something. I do digital art, so when I got home from work I drew a pun Valentines card featuring Jordan's favourite character. It took a few hours and I was pretty proud of how it came out. I knew they were at the concert still, but I texted it to them, so they could see it after.
They responded that night and their first message was just "oh." I've known Jordan long enough that i read the tone to be "oh, now I to have a conversation I didn't want to have." They went on to explain that they associate Valentines day with some past trauma. I won't give any details here, but the tone of the conversation was that they don't celebrate Valentines day because of their trauma, and this seemed like a very final stance.
Now. I don't think I'm TA for drawing the art and sending it, this had never been brought up before, so I didn't know I was crossing a boundary.
I do think Jordan is slightly TA for not saying anything about my art that I worked hard on, but only slightly bc I assume the trauma response just kind of took over.
But my question is, WIBTA if I asked my SO to celebrate Valentines day with me in future even though it's something they have trauma around?
I'm not planning to force them or anything and it doesn't even have to be in the next few years, but thinking long term it feels really gloomy to me to have to miss out on Valentines forever when my SO could be making new memories with me so that mentions of the holiday are less painful.
I don't expect them to just "get over" it magically or anything but I want to ask if it's something they'd possibly want to work up to? I swear I'm not trying to be dismissive their response is fully valid and I don't want to imply my silly fantasies are more important than their traumatic reality I just want to know if this would be an asshole move or not.
What are these acronyms?
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esmedelacroix · 1 year ago
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26 days til' Christmas
militaryhusband!könig surprises you and comes home on christmas eve ⋆꙳•̩̩͙❅̩̩͙‧͙ ‧͙̩̩͙❆ ͙͛ ˚₊⋆
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You were spending your first Christmas without König. You didn't mind König being away for the other holidays; he was doing what he had to and doing his country a service. But, Christmas was important to you. He wasn't going to receive the gift you got him on time which made you even more upset.
You sat in front of your fireplace keeping yourself warm and looking up at the stockings you made for König and yourself. You wanted nothing more from König than for him to just be here. You knew it wasn't possible, so you didn't get your hopes up.
In order to stop your sadness from consuming you, you put on some music to slow dance to; you danced like he was here with you. You closed your eyes and allowed the tunes to carry you through the room gracefully. Just then you bumped into a rough object, but there was nothing quite this big in your living room. You opened your eyes and turned around and saw your man there in that mask he always wore. For a split second, you thought you missed him so much that you were hallucinating him, you pinched yourself to see if you were dreaming but you felt the piercing pain.
You squealed and jumped up to hug him. König felt you wrap your legs around his waist and nuzzle your head in the crook of his neck. König sat on the couch and let you straddle him. He took his mask off so that you could see his face. You cupped his cheeks with soft hands contrasting his rough stubble. Tears of joy filled your eyes as you kissed him for the first time in a month. "You miss me, mein Liebchen[my darling]?" he asked, hiding you as close as he could.
"More than words," you whispered softly as you ran your hands through his short hair. He closed his eyes leaning into your touch.
"I take it things haven't been going well out there?" you asked as your fingers traced over new scars and wounds that you had never seen before. You kissed each of them until there was not one single part of his face that hadn't been graced by your soft lips.
He nodded in response to your question. His breathing was quite frantic when he had taken his mask off. He knew he didn't have to be ashamed of his scars around you, but he just couldn't help it. In his eyes, he looked like a beast, far too ugly and battered to be with you. Every time he came back you made him feel loved, you made him feel wanted, desired, beautiful.
"Come, my love, let's get you changed," you hummed, taking his hand and leading him into your shared room. There was nothing you loved more than babying your big boy once he came home. The reality of war was so hard on him, that he needed to be treated delicately by someone.
He took his shirt off and you saw a view scary enough to make a grown man cry. "Oh König, what did they do to my handsome husband?" you whimper seeing all his fresh wounds. You wrapped your arms around him.
"Mein Schatz, it's alright really, they don't hurt anymore," he reassured, rubbing circles into your back slowly.
"Whatever you say, I'm still going to treat them tomorrow," you started as you buried your face into the crook of his neck.
"Thanks for being here, you know how special Christmas is for me," you continued.
"I love you, I want nothing but your happiness," König said, urging you to lay down in bed with him.
"I hope you're ready to open the gifts I got you there amazing this year, but honestly the only gift I need," you cooed as you snuggled into his bare chest. Your bed felt a little less cold with König there. His large hands were caressing your back gently, his lips kissing your forehead continuously. That night the two of you slept like babies together, innocent, not yet informed of the impurities of the world.
Then the next morning after you treated König, the two of you danced and laughed so much you forgot about the unopened gifts under the tree and embraced the gift of love for each other in your hearts.
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silantryoo · 1 year ago
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BONUS [ LIKEALOOK ] — you owe me
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minjeong's dorm, 12:12 am.
WARNINGS ; blood, mild violence, physical violence, god complex, slut shaming, victim blaming, victim complex (3.6k)
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minjeong wasn't mediocre.
as soon as she could form thoughts, minjeong knew that she was worth something more.
yangsan was charming, in a sense. it was littered with people who knew each other, who would attend the same recitals, and talk about the same problems. soon enough, minjeong found herself walking by the same couple of faces daily, waving at the same people and thanking the same adults.
it was monotonous, and there was nothing more annoying than boredom.
minjeong had always wished that her parents had worked harder like she did. she wished that they would've put more effort into pleasing her, even if they would bend their backs to get her whatever she desired.
it wasn't so she could get rewarded for her efforts. it was because she deserved it. it was because she had always done everything right, because she was right.
she was kim minjeong. she needed the best in order to continue to be the best.
soon, she had outgrown yangsan.
minjeong had begged her parents to go to high school in seoul, despite living across the country. her brother, kim minseo, decided to stay behind, not wanting to restart the life he had built, to stay with his girlfriend.
at least, that was what minjeong had said to the girls.
she refused to show the truth, the hardships and tears that her parents went through as a young kim minjeong threatened to run away if she didn't get what she wanted. she refused to relive the berating of her younger brother as he tried to convince her that their parents would nearly go bankrupt if she kept asking for something beyond their reach, or how he decided to stay in yangsan to lessen the burden of taking care of funds (and how he dropped out to work a crappy job to help with the situation).
kim minjeong didn't care, because she always got what she deserved.
being in the capital of south korea was her right. being in one of the SKYS, being with the girl was her right.
kim minjeong would never settle for less.
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y/n could hear the door rattling, the hinges shaking at every pound of yuri's fist.
her stomach churned, the thought of seeing her now ex-friend nearly making her sick. she had tagged along despite the gnawing in the back of her head, telling her that seeing minjeong was essentially a death sentence.
in her head, y/n assumed that everything would be fine. she assumed that it would hurt less than jimin, less than wonyoung.
she was wrong.
"unnie..." she clenched her eyes tightly, tugging on the back of yuri's sweater. "i changed my mind."
minjeong broke her, in a way.
it lingered like cheap, store-bought alcohol. it was a deep, unsettling feeling like her chest had been weighed down by something and she wasn't sure what. y/n didn't know what to think except why. why had minjeong - someone she loved so deeply - betrayed her like this?
kim minjeong was her best friend, her sister.
(and despite everything, she didn't want yuri to knock minjeong's tooth out.)
"minju-unnie, do something." y/n looked over to the older kim, face void of emotion. "jiwonnie?" she turned to the younger, finding her expression the exact same.
y/n couldn't help but sigh.
she had always wanted someone in her corner, especially growing up as an only child. y/n wanted someone who she loved unconditionally, and who loved her the same. sure, she had amazing parents, but she had always yearned for the connection that everyone seemed to have.
she could live without romantic love, like the winter could live without snow. but it was different when it came to friendship - to family.
everyone had someone they could call their family. wonyoung had hyunseo, her younger half-sister whom the older jang swore she would protect. yuri had minju (and jiwon by default) who, even though they weren't blood-related, had always spent her holidays with the kims. even jimin had aeri, the two more akin to sisters than friends up until recently.
y/n had minjeong. at least she thought she did.
the door creaked open, letting the warm air blow through the small crevice. minjeong popped her head out, glaring at yuri as her eyes adjusted to the corridor light.
y/n missed when minjeong's presence felt like family.
minjeong opened her mouth to speak, but as she glanced over at y/n, everything seemed to stop.
"y/n?"
jo yuri wasn't strong, not physically. but what minjeong lacked in bite, yuri compensated by tenfold.
she rammed the door wide open, using her entire body weight to send minjeong stumbling back, landing on her rear. yuri fell along with her, nearly landing beside her if it weren't for y/n suddenly holding her steady.
"that hurt like hell." yuri whined, ignoring minju rolling her eyes. the kim would have to scold her later.
"you could've just pushed the door open." jiwon scratched her cheek as the older girl rubbed her shoulder.
y/n looked at minjeong, watching as she looked between all of them. the older girl looked frightened, and it broke her heart to know that she was the cause of it.
"i didn't think about that."
she wondered if minjeong felt the same.
"y/n," the kim's eyes met hers. "she hurt me."
y/n could feel the pain bubbling in her chest. it hurt to see minjeong like this, and it hurt even more that she didn't want to help.
kim minjeong was a stranger.
"i'll do it again!" yuri tried to lunge forward, being held back by y/n as minjeong stood up.
the two were equally versed but y/n was afraid that yuri would end up biting a chunk out of minjeong given the circumstances.
y/n looked at her, hoping that her minjeong - the one she would talk to during her lowest points and the one who she ran to whenever anything happened - was still there.
she wasn't.
(or maybe, she never existed.)
"let's just go, unnie." y/n gripped yuri's shoulder lightly. the sinking in her chest was starting to get too overwhelming.
yuri didn't care, at least not right now. not when y/n seemed more torn up over minjeong than wonyoung (and it took minju convincing her for ten minutes straight to not jump the volleyball player).
minju stared at y/n, watching as tears started to form in her eyes. gently, she rested her hand on yuri's other shoulder, motioning to y/n. she could feel yuri relax.
hurting minjeong would hurt y/n more (for now. but if yuri ever got a chance...)
she turned to y/n, smiling softly. wordlessly, yuri nodded, and y/n finally felt the connection she had so desperately longed for.
y/n knew she would survive.
the girls turned to leave, and minjeong could see that her last chance was nearly out of her grasp. she couldn't let y/n go, not now, not ever.
minjeong whined like a toddler whose toy got taken away. "you're gonna leave me here?"
y/n stopped, looking down as guilt and anger began to wrack her body. jiwon looked at the older girl, furrowing her eyebrows in confusion.
"unnie?"
"i didn't want to do it!" minjeong tried to reason, grasping at anything that would make y/n stay. "you have to believe me!"
yuri inhaled, fighting all the thoughts and urges to rip a clump of hair out of minjeong's (unfortunately) unscathed scalp. she'd find another time to jump the girl, hopefully soon.
y/n turned around, her cheeks wet from the stream of tears cascading down her face. "it didn't look like that."
"y/n." minju faced the girl, shaking her head. "don't talk to her."
"shut up, minju." minjeong snarled. this was her chance. she just needed y/n to listen. "i did it out of love. i knew if you saw how jimin would just fuck any girl then-"
y/n scoffed.
"what is it?" losing someone never got easier, but losing family seemed to hurt the worst. "did she make you fuck her? or did you do it to 'show' me?"
minjeong looked down, void of guilt as she tried to find any excuse to justify her actions. she knew she was in the right, especially since she did everything for y/n, for love.
love conquers all, even logic.
"tell me the truth." y/n could feel her voice starting to break. she could feel herself getting weighed down by the confusion. she could feel herself getting ripped to shreds. "tell me why."
minjeong couldn't help but love the way y/n looked in the dark. she loved how her cheeks flushed, and the way her voice cracked as she begged for her.
she wanted - needed - y/n, every teardrop, and every whine.
"i knew it." y/n ignored jiwon's attempts to get her out of the room, letting her emotions take the better of her. "i trusted you, minjeong. i trusted you with my life. i would've never done this to you... ever."
y/n prayed it was a lie. this couldn't be her minjeong, her best friend who she trusted fully with her life. she prayed that it was some sick joke, like all of this was a prank and a television crew would come out, shoving a camera in her face.
but it was too real. the pain felt too real.
"i don't understand." y/n let a sob slip out, and minjeong couldn't help but note the pain that was caused by her, for her. "i thought you were my best frien-"
y/n loved her. she had to.
"i love you." minjeong stood up, walking closer to y/n. "i loved you since the day i met you, since the day i knew that you were mine."
y/n looked at minjeong.
she could smell the cup noodles that lay empty on minjeong's desk. she could hear the soft hum of her laptop, churning the heat out of its system. she could feel the warm air basking around her, like a soft blanket.
but all y/n could feel was shock.
"...what?"
minjeong needed y/n. she needed to be y/n's everything - her pain, her sorrows, her love, her lust. she needed the pretty girl that you find on screen to be hers and only hers.
y/n was her reward, her trophy for being an outstanding person and and even better lover.
it was written in stone.
"i know you love me back, y/n." minjeong had never been more hopeful in her life. she knew that everything at this moment was because of everything she did right. "this hurts you because you love me back, right? because you and i are meant to be. i'm yours and you're mine."
y/n could feel her ears ringing.
"what the fuck..." yuri covered her mouth, looking at the kims, whose eyes were wide open.
"i've always treated you right. i've always done everything right." she did all the research, all the tips and tricks. she did it all for y/n. "i never said no to you, i let you be happy, i let you do whatever you want. i did everything right, right?"
y/n couldn't breathe.
she felt disgusted, almost violated. she had trusted minjeong with her life, and the entire time, the older girl had ulterior motives.
(and deep down, y/n knew that she was the reason why she had ended up with jimin in the first place.)
minjeong kept her gaze locked on the younger girl. she could feel her heart beating out of her chest.
y/n wanted to see her, despite having her heart broken by her. she chose to be near minjeong. it meant something. it had to.
"i'm sorry."
minjeong furrowed her eyebrows.
"i don't love you, minjeong."
minjeong had never been denied anything. she had gotten into all the SKYS, gotten all the scholarships, and gotten all the love from her parents.
it wasn't supposed to be like this.
"what?"
"i've never seen you that way, minjeong." minjeong shook her head furiously, refusing to believe the words coming out of y/n's mouth. "you were always just my friend, maybe a sister at most."
this wasn't right. this wasn't how it was supposed to play out.
"but i did everything you wanted!" she had sacrificed her time, her money. "i even let you fuck whoever you want!"
"she was never yours, minjeong." minju glared at minjeong.
"shut the hell up!" minjeong gritted her teeth. minju had no right to take away what was hers. "you're acting like your girlfriend doesn't fuck bitches on the side."
yuri's eyes widened, trailing over to minju. to her left, jiwon was expressionless.
"what?" chaewon had always hidden her phone until recently. even at the party, it looked like the older girl was actively avoiding someone. "chaewon wouldn't."
she trusted chaewon. minjeong had to be lying.
"ask jimin." minju could feel the air being sucked out of her lungs. "she has videos of everything chaewon does for her."
minju hated crying.
she hated getting her makeup ruined. she hated the way streaks would carve away parts of her foundation, and how her eyes would sting as her mascara mixed with her tears. she hated how weak and vulnerable she felt, like her mask had been stripped away and she was back to being that ten year old holding her sister as they both sobbed at the thought of their family being ripped apart.
minju never cried.
she never cried at her graduation, or her eighteenth birthday. she didn't cry when her grandma died. she didn't even cry when chaewon and her broke up.
but she cried when she found out her parents divorced.
"unnie?"
jiwon hadn't seen her sister cry in years.
"you fucking bitch!" y/n quickly grabbed yuri's waist, pulling her back as she tried to jump at minjeong. making one of them cry was pushing it, but two was too much.
minju couldn't stop the tears anymore. no matter how hard she tried to hold it back, all she could think of was chaewon, of how much she loved her and how much it hurt.
minju wiped her tears quickly, but nothing helped as she stared at her younger sister.
"ji" she was supposed to be stronger for her. "i'm sorry."
jiwon was at her limit.
she could forgive minjeong for leaving her at the party. in fact, she already did. jiwon forgave her, despite the fear she had when yujin and gaeul had left her and an extremely drunk rei alone. she could forgive minjeong for how she never checked up on her after, and how she pretended that jiwon didn't exist outside of the group.
she couldn't forgive this.
"it's not my fault chaewon's a whore." minjeong loved the rush of seeing someone so hurt. "minju's always liked girls she could never ge-"
jiwon was always the stronger kim.
a loud thud echoed through the room, and jiwon could feel her knuckle make contact with minjeong's cheekbone. the force of all the pent up anger (which honestly felt good to release) sent minjeong stumbling back, craddling her cheek.
yuri looked at the younger kim in shock.
"i... i didn't mean to!" jiwon panicked, looking at minjeong's now bleeding face. "i got angry. she, she left me by myself at that party. she made y/n-unnie upset. she's always looked down on me and yuri-unnie. unnie, she made you cry. i swear it was just by accident, i just-"
minju smiled, patting her younger sister's shoulder.
"jiwon. i love you, yeah?" jiwon took a deep breath, smiling awkwardly. "just calm down, okay?"
"okay." she nodded, looking at her now bruised hand. "are you gonna tell mom?"
"no, ji." minju shook her head. "i won't."
jiwon couldn't help but sigh in relief. "okay."
"y/n," minjeong whined again. the pain in her cheek was starting to spread across her face, and the cut was starting to bleed. "she hit me. aren't you gonna help me?"
"you can do it yourself." y/n sighed, not wanting to stay any longer.
she didn't know why she felt more worried about jiwon's hand than the cut on minjeong's cheek. all y/n knew was that she was tired of everything.
she just needed a break.
"that's not fair." minjeong didn't understand why y/n couldn't see it. "it's what i deserve after i treated you right."
"i didn't need you to treat me right." y/n didn't know how else to explain it. "i needed you to treat me like a friend."
"but i love you." minjeong loved the way y/n needed her. "i don't wanna be just your friend. it's not fair."
the world had always been filled with only yes's for minjeong, sakura being a fluke.
she didn't understand why it happened again.
"i don't owe you anything, minjeong."
minjeong frowned. "but you owe wonyoung something?"
maybe jimin was right. maybe the only person standing in the way of her and y/n was wonyoung. it was the girl who had everything, despite being nothing.
minjeong hated jang wonyoung.
"wonyoung has nothing to do with this." y/n said truthfully.
"you love her, don't you?" minjeong always lost to the bad guys. "even after she treated you like shit."
"wonyoung never treated me like shit." y/n countered. the argued at times, like couples always do, but wonyoung had always treated her like royalty. "we disagreed at times but-"
"but i never disagreed with you!" minjeong could feel the cut on her cheek move as she scrunched her face. "i said everything you wanted to hear!"
y/n wanted a lot of things.
"but it was never what i needed."
"you don't know what you need." minjeong reasoned, her cheek now swelling against her hand. "i'm what you need."
"jiwon," yuri looked at the younger kim, fresh cuts on her knuckle. "punch her again."
minju rolled her eyes, shaking her head as jiwon looked at her for permission. "don't."
"let's just go." y/n sighed. the longer they stayed, the more likely jiwon and yuri were gonna get arrested. "jiwon's gonna need to ice her hand."
jiwon looked at her hand and shrugged.
"it's okay! i feel great!" the younger kim smiled, flexing her hand. "i feel like i can jump from the roof right now, like superman."
"i would pay money to see that."
minju sighed. she was happy that yena didn't come, otherwise she was sure to egg yuri on and jiwon would most likely jump off the second-floor balcony.
"oh." a slurred voice entered the room as the smell of weed wafted from behind the girls. "hi?"
they turned around, coming face to face with someone unfamiliar.
her hair was bleached blonde, her body draped in expensive clothing. all of them could tell from her eyes that she was going to have no recollection of their meeting.
y/n had never seen someone so high out of their mind.
"sorry," minju bowed slightly. "we were just leaving."
they looked at each other, walking out quietly before the girl grabbed y/n's arm gently.
"wait." she squinted, y/n taking note of how bloodshot the girl's eyes were. "you're the girlfriend."
y/n looked around. "me and jimin aren't together anymore."
"jimin?" the girl didn't know jimin had a girlfriend. "i was talking about vicky?"
y/n didn't know of a vicky on campus. of course, she didn't know the majority of the people but she assumed that she would've at least heard of her.
sensing her confusion, the girl continued to speak.
"victory?" she let go of y/n's arm as the taller girl looked at her friends who all shrugged. "like vicky jang?"
"wonyoung?" y/n tilted her head.
wonyoung had never been given a title before, and a sense of pride seemed to burst through her chest and into her veins. they had talked about it frequently during first year, and how wonyoung wished she had a title like yoo 'the ace' jimin or hirai 'the machine' momo.
it had a nice ring to it. wonyoung 'vicky (victory)' jang.
the girl tapped her cheek, a blush spreading across her face. "you're saying she's single?"
y/n's face darkened at the thought of girls liking wonyoung. her stomach churned as she realized that wonyoung probably liked said girls back.
she shook her head. now wasn't the time to get jealous over someone that wasn't hers.
"it was nice to finally meet you." y/n said stiffly, frowning as she pushed the girls out. she ignored yuri's teasing stares and tried her best to disregard minjeong pleading her to stay.
the room fell quiet as y/n closed the door behind her.
"unnie? were those your friends?" slowly, the girl turned to minjeong. she gasped, nearly choking as her eyes adjusted to the sight of her face.
"what the hell happened to you?"
minjeong rolled her eyes, searching for something to stop the bleeding.
"do you need ice or something?" the girl asked.
"can you fuck off, yizhuo?"
"whatever." minjeong was in one of her moods again (and not the fun ones).
she placed herself in bed as minjeong rummaged for vaseline. if minjeong was gonna act snarky, then yizhuo could find a different way to entertain herself.
she was glad jimin stayed up so late.
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aspd-culture · 3 months ago
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sometimes i feel like how i am just makes more sense. how do you think the world would be different if everyone "had aspd" (but in this world, it would just be being normal)?
Hmmmm.... Damn I'm really unmasked right now so this is probably the most honest answer I could give you (based on my opinion of course, none of this is fact and for all intents and purposes this answer is entertainment value only not educational bc who knows if I'll agree with myself once we find wherever that mask is hiding).
First and foremost, society is kind of gone in this case. Or reverted, I guess. That's a major point with ASPD is that we didn't develop the way everyone else did to be a part of society, desire to be around people, fear people disliking us (because in the wild that could mean dy*ng), etc. We still have the understanding of the need to congregate and therefore would likely still have settlements nearby, but I'm guessing everything would be a lot more spread out. I'm sure there are plenty of pwASPD who don't feel this way, but all the pwASPD I know personally hate the concept of neighbors that can perceive them while standing in their own yard or worse their own house. So firstly I think that houses would likely be further away, and that things like trailer parks and apartments would be significantly less common.
I also think that laws surrounding where you can build a house and the safety stuff involved like permits would be more lax - leaning towards a "if you didn't do it right, you'll be the one to have to deal with it" mentality, and in that I think more people would be housed but probably significantly less safely. I don't think this would extend to things like basic building stability and electricity and such, because that would cause issues for more than just the idiot who didn't do their research, but for things like lead paint, proper insulation, and such like that.
In general, probably a lot of things would lean that way - with more overall protections for people because we A.) don't like to hear people complain and will sooner do the right thing to shut them up than continue to allow their whining in a lot of cases and B.) we understand that the entire purpose of humans living near each other is to help and C.) in a world where ASPD was the norm we know that if I (general I) don't help you (general you) when you need it, there will be no empathy or anything making them feel bad if you don't help when *I* need it. Everyone takes what they need and gives what they need and I doubt people would bother to abuse the system because we are smart enough to know that gaming the system is actually screwing all of us over bc now when people need help that isn't there, they will have no qualms about coming to the house of the person who stole all the resources for themself and asking what that person intends to do to fix the problem they made.
See, a lot of the reason that pwASPD who manage to go on to be your high-profile wealthy CEOs do that is because it's easier for them than a prosocial. Stepping on people to get to the top, knowing that those people will likely barely see it as you doing something wrong. They feel for you and they understand you were taught greed and all that, so they're easy to manipulate. Give them a bonus check that doesn't even bother a percentage of your profits every year around the holidays and you're considered a great boss doing better than most. Let them call out every once in a while and only give them a little heat about it and they'll worship you because it's better than most of what's out there.
But other pwASPD see through that, so I don't think hyper-selfish people with ASPD would manage to thrive in this type of "society" the way they do with a majority prosocial one.
I think that we'd also help to establish better things for people with ASPD - more stuff like wreck rooms and such - that allow for the easing of those symptoms without breaking your sh*t or hurting anyone, while also getting rid of laws that are, well, stupid in our eyes and help decrease the annoyance that causes our symptoms to flare in the first place. You're stealing baby formula? Go at it. I don't care. If we notice because you're stealing a bunch of shit then you did a shit job of stealing and then there's probably consequences. Maybe. If the dude on shift feels like dealing with it.
I think only the big things would continue being illegal by any degree, and I think the system would probably be much more collective rather than things like managers, politicians, etc. We're not a fan of people telling us what to do more often than not, so I think all of us having a turn would be the way it would work. I think most everything would go to majority vote.
I honestly wonder if money would even survive in a world entirely set up by pwASPD or if we'd just make all the transactions by association like the old barter system. People say that the reason we can't go back to that in today's world is because we wouldn't be able to decide what services were worth what other services but that kind of removes the point of the barter system in the first place. It's not about the services having a "value" it's literally just about "I need this and you have it, you need that and I have it, let's trade". This is already how we view our relationships - not caring if the give and take is equal as long as we both are walking away cool with it - so it makes sense we'd extend that to a general rule.
In a weird way I just feel like we'd be less connected but more collaborative. No I don't want to have small talk but I do have bread I'm willing to give to someone who can get me antibiotics. And no one would take offense to that because *none* of us want to do the small talk.
Plenty of pwASPD do enjoy friendships and relationships and so I think in those cases, you'd see people who want that finding that and people who don't just not participating.
I don't think everything would change, because to a degree there is some ASPD influence in how things work atm, but it's a prosocial lens on it even for the things that have that influence.
There is also the solid possibility that it could just be anarchy tho :/ It depends because honestly all of this is coming from the place of "us all developing ASPD knowing what the world is like now and what isn't working" but if it wasn't like that who really knows what would happen. (apparently my use of emoji means that sentence has to be in bold on this font)
I refuse to re-read and edit this rn and I won't want to do it later so RIP if this is a mess of a post to read or contradicts itself, etc. But I promise I do care about this blog and the content on it/gen - the reason why I'm being selective about which asks I'm willing to do while in this state - I'm just impaired by the low mood stabilizer levels so I'm honestly worse than just unmasked rn. Like me normally without a mask and without any mood stabilizer at all is more composed and gives more of an f then I do rn but god guys Lamictal withdrawal will kick your *ss. Idk why I'm explaining this like I would to a group of prosocials tho XD I more often get questions on this blog about why I *don't* act like this.
Plain text below the cut:
Hmmmm.... Damn I'm really unmasked right now so this is probably the most honest answer I could give you (based on my opinion of course, none of this is fact and for all intents and purposes this answer is entertainment value only not educational bc who knows if I'll agree with myself once we find wherever that mask is hiding).
First and foremost, society is kind of gone in this case. Or reverted, I guess. That's a major point with ASPD is that we didn't develop the way everyone else did to be a part of society, desire to be around people, fear people disliking us (because in the wild that could mean dy*ng), etc. We still have the understanding of the need to congregate and therefore would likely still have settlements nearby, but I'm guessing everything would be a lot more spread out. I'm sure there are plenty of pwASPD who don't feel this way, but all the pwASPD I know personally hate the concept of neighbors that can perceive them while standing in their own yard or worse their own house. So firstly I think that houses would likely be further away, and that things like trailer parks and apartments would be significantly less common.
I also think that laws surrounding where you can build a house and the safety stuff involved like permits would be more lax - leaning towards a "if you didn't do it right, you'll be the one to have to deal with it" mentality, and in that I think more people would be housed but probably significantly less safely. I don't think this would extend to things like basic building stability and electricity and such, because that would cause issues for more than just the idiot who didn't do their research, but for things like lead paint, proper insulation, and such like that.
In general, probably a lot of things would lean that way - with more overall protections for people because we A.) don't like to hear people complain and will sooner do the right thing to shut them up than continue to allow their whining in a lot of cases and B.) we understand that the entire purpose of humans living near each other is to help and C.) in a world where ASPD was the norm we know that if I (general I) don't help you (general you) when you need it, there will be no empathy or anything making them feel bad if you don't help when *I* need it. Everyone takes what they need and gives what they need and I doubt people would bother to abuse the system because we are smart enough to know that gaming the system is actually screwing all of us over bc now when people need help that isn't there, they will have no qualms about coming to the house of the person who stole all the resources for themself and asking what that person intends to do to fix the problem they made.
See, a lot of the reason that pwASPD who manage to go on to be your high-profile wealthy CEOs do that is because it's easier for them than a prosocial. Stepping on people to get to the top, knowing that those people will likely barely see it as you doing something wrong. They feel for you and they understand you were taught greed and all that, so they're easy to manipulate. Give them a bonus check that doesn't even bother a percentage of your profits every year around the holidays and you're considered a great boss doing better than most. Let them call out every once in a while and only give them a little heat about it and they'll worship you because it's better than most of what's out there.
But other pwASPD see through that, so I don't think hyper-selfish people with ASPD would manage to thrive in this type of "society" the way they do with a majority prosocial one.
I think that we'd also help to establish better things for people with ASPD - more stuff like wreck rooms and such - that allow for the easing of those symptoms without breaking your sh*t or hurting anyone, while also getting rid of laws that are, well, stupid in our eyes and help decrease the annoyance that causes our symptoms to flare in the first place. You're stealing baby formula? Go at it. I don't care. If we notice because you're stealing a bunch of shit then you did a shit job of stealing and then there's probably consequences. Maybe. If the dude on shift feels like dealing with it.
I think only the big things would continue being illegal by any degree, and I think the system would probably be much more collective rather than things like managers, politicians, etc. We're not a fan of people telling us what to do more often than not, so I think all of us having a turn would be the way it would work. I think most everything would go to majority vote.
I honestly wonder if money would even survive in a world entirely set up by pwASPD or if we'd just make all the transactions by association like the old barter system. People say that the reason we can't go back to that in today's world is because we wouldn't be able to decide what services were worth what other services but that kind of removes the point of the barter system in the first place. It's not about the services having a "value" it's literally just about "I need this and you have it, you need that and I have it, let's trade". This is already how we view our relationships - not caring if the give and take is equal as long as we both are walking away cool with it - so it makes sense we'd extend that to a general rule.
In a weird way I just feel like we'd be less connected but more collaborative. No I don't want to have small talk but I do have bread I'm willing to give to someone who can get me antibiotics. And no one would take offense to that because *none* of us want to do the small talk.
Plenty of pwASPD do enjoy friendships and relationships and so I think in those cases, you'd see people who want that finding that and people who don't just not participating.
I don't think everything would change, because to a degree there is some ASPD influence in how things work atm, but it's a prosocial lens on it even for the things that have that influence.
There is also the solid possibility that it could just be anarchy tho :/ It depends because honestly all of this is coming from the place of "us all developing ASPD knowing what the world is like now and what isn't working" but if it wasn't like that who really knows what would happen.
I refuse to re-read and edit this rn and I won't want to do it later so RIP if this is a mess of a post to read or contradicts itself, etc. But I promise I do care about this blog and the content on it/gen - the reason why I'm being selective about which asks I'm willing to do while in this state - I'm just impaired by the low mood stabilizer levels so I'm honestly worse than just unmasked rn. Like me normally without a mask and without any mood stabilizer at all is more composed and gives more of an f then I do rn but god guys Lamictal withdrawal will kick your *ss. Idk why I'm explaining this like I would to a group of prosocials tho XD I more often get questions on this blog about why I *don't* act like this.
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smutbutoutofnowhere · 1 year ago
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WILLIAM BIRKIN HEADCANONS
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NSFW
he’s very intimate with you while sex he loves you so much like every single thing about you turns him on
he looks very soft but he’s actually very kinky inside and will show this side the more comfortable he feels around you
i feel like he enjoys sex a lot A LOT like it becomes very often
like i said in the beginning everything about you is a turn on to him like how you look when you wake up in the morning with your tank top and underwear or wearing an apron with your hair tied up showing your beautiful neck while cooking for him even when you’re wearing your glasses while you work tugging your hair behind your ear
he enjoys fucking you anywhere in the house in the kitchen on the counter or table, in the bathroom in front of the mirror, in the living room while you’re trying to watch tv etc
my man gets horny easily basically
gets you lingerie every time he goes out like while passing by the store seeing something and imagining you in it and literally drooling about the idea ending up getting too many stuff because he wants to see how you would look on each one before ripping them off you
a very big panty thief
if you’re away to visit your family or for work he would use your underwear to masturbate and gets them dirty with cum so when you come back you might face the issue of having less clean panties and wash a bunch because he sometimes forgets to clean them afterwards
expect to get your ass squeezed a lot like you guys are out on a walk with some tight shorts or while you’re making breakfast or dessert also hugs from behind is often too but doesn’t stay long before he gets hard and humps you
also he watches porn when you’re not around like again away for something like imagining blindfolding you and using toys on you while your hands are tied up or maybe spanking you until your ass is all red or dressing you up in kinky costumes such as nurse gets very into the role lmfao
has breeding kink and the idea of you carrying his child with your round belly and swollen breasts is sending him to the clouds if you do get pregnant get ready for some overstimulation (eating you out especially) and if you do start lactating he’s gonna suck them tiddies and squeeze them
on holidays get ready for sex like maybe two times a day around the house fully naked or if in a hotel maybe in the spa (if you guys are alone) he also likes risky sex probably because his dick wont stay still or at the beach in the sea making out away from people
also dont worry about any scars or etc on your body like i said before he worships your body as if you’re a god/goddess literally everything about you from head to toes is beautiful to him
if you’re younger than him he likes the college student teacher kinda shit or like your inexperience turns him on
he is insecure about himself actually because if you’re young there are many attractive people with better looking bodies but as soon as you reassure him that you love him as much as he does and giving kisses from his little belly to his happy trail to his aching dick (giving him a few kisses on there too especially on his pre leaking tip) he’s in heaven
that reminds me that he LOVES blowjobs like giving him head while he’s doing something on the computer or checking documents sucking his length and balls he swears he can see the stars he looks down with a sweaty face and pulls his shirt up to get a better view he smiles uncontrollably and holds your cheek then slowly tugs your hair and moves your head the way he desires and bucks his hips deeper into your throat while he shakes with his orgasm and seeing you swallow and swipe that one drop drooling from corner of your mouth with your finger and sucking it in is just incredible
lastly lazy morning sex is his thing before work he wakes up horny and then rubs himself to your back and wakes you up eventually before fucking you sleepy and hitting that one gold spot in you to give you amazing orgasm
also his dick is like average (don’t be fooled he can use it very good and fuck you dumb) and have blonde pubes shaves them but eventually forgets sometimes because of his work
i wrote this like it was my duty lmfao anyways thats all folks
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strawburry01 · 9 months ago
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That's Not Me
Summary: Reader and Angus listen to your record collection and bond over music and parent problems (it's not very deep)
word count: 2k
Authors Note: this is actually the first stuff I've ever put on tumblr and I've currently been working on this as I'm insanely doped up on wisdom teeth painkillers so sorry if it reads weird. I'm trying to start writing more in general n shit so you have any weirdly niche or specific scenarios or desires pls just shout em out (i see you, you're valid). ALSO: Walk with me here, you're telling me Angus Tully wouldn't be a big fan of the Beach Boys? I know this sad ass mfer would eat Pet Sounds up. It's a short album, do yourself a favor n listen to it (or at least check out the songs I took the blrubs from for this) cause it's some GOOD STUFF. That's all.
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You stood over the lone dresser in your room. Your prized possession of a small record player balanced precariously on top of it with your stack of records spread out across the rest of the top. You’d been collecting records even since your first year at St. Mary’s, despite the rules against it that the sisters there tried to enforce at every opportunity.
But they had left you here, alone, at Barton so it’s not like they could complain about it now. Nobody was even here besides you, that odd Professor Hunham, the sweet chef Mary, and that Angus Tully boy. It had been a few days since the rest of the boys had been picked up in a helicopter, leaving the four of you to the echoing halls of the empty school. 
You plucked the new Fleetwood Mac album out of your pile and slipped it onto the turntable before placing the needle gently down onto the black vinyl. Stevie Nick’s smooth vocals began to tinny out of the small record as you tapped your foot to the song as you continued to rifle through your stack of records. 
Your parents had left you to stay at St. Mary’s for break as they were stuck on some business venture in Germany. A pro of these trips, they funded your buying habits in exchange for your passive agreement when it came to these sorts of holidays. You missed the days when you were so young they had to just drag you along everywhere they went. You felt like a real family then. Now it just felt like you were a burden to them- another person for them to give their money to. 
“Where’d you get that?” a voice asked from the doorway, startling you out of your thoughts. You quickly swing to the doorway, still gripping the empty sleeve of Fleetwood Mac. Luckily, or perhaps unluckily, it was just the lanky figure of Angus, eyeing you with his arms folded. 
“Ever heard of knocking, ya’ prick?” you said, rolling your eyes as you turned back to the music.
“Where’d you get the record player?” he asked again, taking a step into the room. You shrug, keeping your focus on the records and not Angus deciding to invite himself in.
“I stole it from the confiscation closet at St. Mary’s”.
“Really?” he said in shock, almost impressed.
“No, of course I bought it you weirdo” you laughed. He looked much less impressed. “I bought the record player with my own money from working at the pool over the summer, but my parents have given me money for most of these records” you explain, gesturing to the stack. Angus took a spot right next to you, his air of cigarettes and old book pages wafting by you. He stands silently as he begins looking at each record. For him previously having taken every chance for a smart-ass comment at your expense, his silence was a welcome change. For a few minutes the two of you just stood, side by side, flipping over albums and making hums of approval.
“You have Pet Sounds!” Angus said, perking up, as he picked up The Beach Boys album. You can’t help but look over at him. The corners of his mouth are actually pricked up for once, like he’s actually happy.
“You like the Beach Boys?” you asked. He glances over in your direction with his big brown eyes with an incredulous eyebrow raised, in disbelief you would question such things. You can’t help but feel your stomach flip. Honestly how dare someone so annoying be graced with such eyes.
“Why wouldn’t I? They’re really good” he said as he turned back to the album, “d’ya think you can play it?” he asked as he handed it over. You take the album and slide the vinyl out as you place it onto the tabletop. Angus takes a seat at the foot of your bed, his hands shoved into his jacket pockets.
“Make yourself at home” you sarcastically said as you started the record, before leaning against the dresser, facing the bed. He laughs.
“Such a generous host” he quips as Wouldn’t it Be Nice starts playing from the album. The song seems to zone him out as he stares into the wall behind you, gently nodding along to the music. 
Wouldn't it be nice if we were older? Then we wouldn't have to wait so long
“What are you still doing up?” you ask, breaking him out of his trance. It was almost midnight, and Hunham would certainly kill you both if he caught wind of you two conspiring. 
“What are you still doing up?” Angus retorted, “it’s not very St. Mary’s of you to be up late listening to such devilish music” he mocked, waggling his fingers in the air for effect. You can’t help but laugh. He loved acting like your hijinks were an act against God ever since you’d been moved over for the break, all just because you went to St. Mary’s. 
“Oh please, the sisters have started praying for my ears because I listen to anything with a guitar,” you say as you swat at him. “They found my single Johnny Cash album and made me clean the dishes for a week to learn…something”. Angus snorted at that and shook his head as the next song faded in from the speakers.
“How have you not gotten kicked out yet?” he asked, “it seems like you just hate it there”. You half heartedly shrug and sit on the corner of the bed he isn’t occupying, your legs graze each other before he quickly moves it closer to his side. You’d be lying if you said your breath didn’t catch in your throat a little. It was a weird experience- being stuck in such close quarters with someone for about a week now. You had both started throwing crumpled up notes to each other during the mandatory class/detention time Hunham prescribed to you both. Most of the notes were just complaining about the situation, how cold it was, how bad Hunham smelled, how hungry you were, how much you wished you were both anywhere else. You drew Angus back a beautiful stick-figure masterpiece of the two of you laying on a beach, although he got pretty mad at how dramatically messy you’d made his hair.
 He would never admit it, but he kept it and used it as a bookmark. 
“I do hate it, but my parents have moved heaven ‘n hell to keep me there, so I’ve kind of just given up on getting out” you said as you looked down at your feet, swinging back and forth above the floor. He silently nodded, sitting with it for a moment before adding.
“My parents are just waiting for me to mess up so they can send me away” he said quietly, suddenly having a vulnerable air about him. He’d never brought this up before to you. Sure he was a bit of a prick, but he didn’t deserve to get sent off to another school just for being annoying sometimes. He balled his fist in an anxious tic on his knee, and before you can stop yourself, your hand is on top of his fist to try and calm him, or be there for him, or just show him he’s not alone, or maybe you did just secretly want to hold his hand, somewhere deep down.
“It’ll be okay” you respond back, softly. You both freeze at your hand resting on top of his. Everything goes silent except Brian Wilson’s voice coming from the record.
Being here with you feels so right, We could live forever tonight, Let's not think about tomorrow
He slowly unfurls his fist and gently begins to entwine his fingers with yours, his hands are warm, and vaguely shaky, like he’s ready for you to pull away at a moment's notice and act like this was all him imagining it. You wait a second before you gently lean your head onto his shoulder, the scent of cigarettes strong from his jacket, and you can hear him inhale sharply before realizing you’re not leaving. 
“You don’t have to pity me y’know. I’m an asshole to everyone, I get what I deserve”
“Shut up Angus”
“Okay” he said with a small laugh as he absentmindedly moved his thumb back and forth on your hand for a while before breaking the silence, “d’ya want to, uhm,-” he says before tripping on his words and going silent again. You can’t help but laugh at him getting stuck on his words, truly a first for him. You nudge your head so you’re looking up at him from his shoulder. He stares intently ahead, as if avoiding your eyes. 
“Want to what? Kiss? Do I really have you this nervous?” you tease him which draws a quick reaction from him. He glares down at you before his face softens and he looks away again. 
“So what if you did” he scoffs and suddenly stands, letting your hand go as he heads to the door. 
“Angus wait I’m sorry I didn’t mean it like that-” you say, starting to apologize and follow after him as you stand up. The record skips with an unfortunate scratch before continuing to play. You grab the cuff of his jacket before he can leave.
They say I got brains but they ain't doing me no good, I wish they could
“Angus wait-” you say as you try to pull him back. He turns and suddenly your face is in his hands and his lips are on yours. Before you can react he pulls back and lets you go, leaving him standing in front of you, waiting for your move. 
“I’m going now” he says before turning again to leave the room, acting as if he didn’t just kiss you. You slide by him and slam the door in front of him before he can actually leave. Your back props the door shut as you face him, holding out an accusatory finger.
“No- you’re not just going to kiss me and leave and act like you didn’t just do that” you say, feigning some sense of authority as you look up at him, your finger in his face. His lips twinge upwards again before he goes serious again.
“Should I not have?” he asks, “you were the one who put the idea in my head” he said with a smirk. You jab your accusatory finger closer to his face as you try not to knee him in the crotch right then and there. 
You open your mouth to reply, but before any noise can come out there’s a knock on the door.
“Miss? Everything alright in there?” Hunham asks from the other side of the door. While you stare at Angus in petrified horror for the next few minutes, he can’t help but look rather satisfied with himself. 
“Oh everything’s just fine professor, thanks for your concern!” you answer back, faking a cheerful tone as your eyes never leave Angus’s face, who is failing to conceal his laughing behind his hand, watching you struggle to maintain your cool.
“Mr. Tully doesn’t happen to be in there with you, is he? I noticed his room was empty,” Hunham adds through the door. You stare at Angus’s dumb smirk on his face, scrunched to the side of his face, with his stupid brown eyes looking down at you with a mix of attraction, humor, and misfortune. You grab his jacket collar and pull his face to your level, before swiftly kissing him with the fervor only someone knowing how much trouble they’ll be in for doing so could have. You quickly let go of his jacket and swiftly nudge him back before looking his speechless figure up and down and swinging open the door. 
You fake a large toothy smile for Hunham as you hold your hands in front of you, mustering up any energy you had left for the performance of a lifetime.
“Just showing him my record collection sir. I didn’t realize the Barton boys had such a passion for the music arts” you say, looking over at Angus from over your shoulder to see if he was going to be any help in this. He of course wasn’t and just stayed quiet as he brushed past you to the hallway with Hunham.
“A lovely collection” he murmured in the hallway as he finally made eye contact with you from behind Hunham who shakes his head and sighs.
“I wish you two wouldn’t be slamming doors at midnight, but the music arts is an exciting and important endeavor. Off to bed though, say your goodnights,” he said, as he elbowed Angus, certainly not letting the two of them alone again.
“Night” Angus tells you with his smirk, putting his hands back into his pockets. 
“Goodnight Angus, perhaps we can continue our conversation later tomorrow” you say, leaning against the doorframe with your own smirk looking back at him. Hunham tuts Angus back down the hall but not before he quickly winks at you, and you can only laugh at it all.
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realcube · 4 months ago
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˖°.𓆩♡𓆪 .°˖ CHARCTER GENERATOR for @naru-mi-gen
𓆩♡𓆪 part of my lovers level — 3k follower event
𓆩♡𓆪 chosen tropes: brother's best friend
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˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ YOUR CHARACTER IS...
KIYOOMI SAKUSA
tw// a bit suggestive at the end
since signing on with MSBY black jackals, sakusa hasn't been back in tokyo for ages, because the team's hometown is based in osaka. which is a shame as that means sakusa and your brother haven't hung out in ages. they used to be very close friends back when they both attended itchiyama institute, but they've not seen each other much since graduation.
although they both still talk on the phone and text frequently, so that is probably why you've opened the door on a random tuesday to see the one and only kiyoomi sakusa standing there, wearing black tshirt and loose sweats, with a wheely suitcase standing beside him.
meanwhile, you were in your loungewear, having not been expecting any vistors and presuming that the person at the door was a mailman or a delivery driver who you'd only have to interact with briefly. but no, it was your brother's wildly successful best friend , who you once had a massive crush on all throughout high school— and perhaps remnants of the crush still linger.
and these stifled feelings probably contributed to the raging embarrassment you were currently experiencing. despite the fact sakusa used to see you in your pyjamas all the time when he'd come over to your house for sleepovers with your brother, something about him seeing you while you were completely unprepared was morbidly shameful.
even though, unbeknowst to you, not much has changed in sakusa's eyes. you're still one of the most effortlessly beautiful women he's ever laid his eyes upon. a slight blush creeps onto his features, which goes unnoticed by you as you're too focused on trying to hide your figure.
"uhm, hi, aysha. where's your brother?" he asks with an averted gaze. and as soon as those words exit his mouth, he is immediately hit with waves of regret, as he didn't mean to sound so dismissive of your presense and he should've asked you how you were doing first. but he finds it hard to think straight with you around. it's probably a good thing that you're unable to come to his games in osaka; he'd never win a single one ever again with you watching him.
"him and his wife went on holiday, so i'm cat-sitting for them." as if on cue, the kitty you were watched pads through the open door and starts pawing at sakusa's shoes. you gasp and open your mouth to apolgise, about to pick up the cat until he does it himself. holding her in his arms and stroking her chin as she purrs happily.
"he told me about that, but i thought they came back today."
you nod, "yeah, they were supposed to be home by this morning but their flight got delayed, so they probably won't be back until later this evening."
he blinks, with a completely vacant expession, "oh."
"yeah." you mutter, heart pounding in your chest as you realise what that means, "would you like to wait here?"
"sure." he nods. truthfully he'd rather spend his time in his hotel, it might be less tense that way but deep down he had the desire to stay with you.
he carries the cat in and you close the door behind him, only to turn around and see he was still standing in the middle of the floor awkwardly, "sit down, c'mon! this is your home too, you know. remember all of the time you and him used to spend in this living room playing video games? we should've had you paying rent."
you joke while motion towards the couch. hiding his small smile behind his hair, he slowly takes a seat, until he notices that you don't join him and instead head towards the stairs, "where are you going?"
"to the guest bedroom. i'm just going to change quickly; i'll be right back."
"why?" he asks, and when you hear him say this, you finally turn around to look at him in his black eyes.
you chuckle awkwardly at his inquiry, "uhm, because i'm in my pyjamas."
"it's fine." he instantly replies, without missing a beat. your heart races at the way his eyes are glued to you, he's never look at you this way before — unless he has and you've just haven't noticed. "i think you look okay."
"just okay?" you tease.
sakusa gulps, not really picking up on the playfulness in your tone and assuming that you were actually peeved about being called okay-looking. so he explains, "no. i think you look pretty, but that might've been too forward to say." he's been critised for being to blunt several times in his lifetime, so he's learned how to be thoughtful about his word-choice (when he wants to be).
"oh, i was only joking but— that's sweet, thank you." you stammer, a violent heat rising to cheeks and drying your throat. you hated the effect his man had on you, so you hastily try to exit the conversation, but not without a little bit more teasing first; being flirtatious was — ironically — an effective coping mechanism for being flustered.
"i think i'll still head to my room and change." you say, as you start walking up the stairs, "i'll be back in five minutes. unless you want to come with?"
sakusa quirks an eyebrow, "i would. but who is going to watch the cat?" he asks, holding up the kitty still in his hands.
"good point." you nod, continuing to head up the stairs.
sakusa's eyes widen; he didn't really expect you to not give him a solution. so, he looks to the kitty in his hands and whispers, "sorry. we'll be quick." there is a ball laying on the coffee table, which he gives to the kitty as he places her on the ground and heads up the stairs after you.
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for @naru-mi-gen: firstly i'd like to say i LOVE your works on your main acc, you are sooo talented MWAH
also i've never really wrote brother's bsf trope before but this was so much fun!! the chemistry between you and omi is delicious 😩 also i left your brother as purposefully vague so you can choose a character or assume what you like hehe
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queenjunothegreat · 24 days ago
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Aaaaaand here we are at the end! Congrats to any and all USAmericans for making it through this bullshit holiday, and also congrats to everyone else for making it through what I hope was a less bullshit Thursday!
Jason was going to reply, but at that moment the door was flung open and Leo was standing in the doorway. “Is Jason up?” he demanded. “Festus said he was up.” Jason just sat up and beamed at him. “Hey, man.” Leo’s whole face lit up and he bounded across the room and Jason soon found himself with a whole armful of Leo. Unfortunately, before he could realize what was happening, Leo straightened and squished Jason’s cheeks between his palms, forcing Jason’s head to tilt this way and that. “Welcome back to the waking world, Supes. How you feeling?” “He’d probably be better if he wasn’t being forced to impersonate a fish,” Piper drawled.  “Yeah, yeah. Whatever,” Leo scoffed, rolling his eyes. Still he dropped his hands, which Jason was, admittedly, glad for. “So. How are you feeling? Any lingering desires to make love with a brick?” “I– No, I’m fine,” Jason said, but he honestly wasn’t really listening to what Leo said, too distracted by his new outfit. “Leo, what are you wearing?”
When Jason woke up, he didn’t really know where he was, only that his head hurt. Like, a lot. Then he blinked slowly a few times and all the pieces started falling together like tumbling dominoes. He remembered being at New Rome, showing Piper all the places he’d loved so much his whole life. The memories were still a little foggy, but each familiar sight had sent him on yet another rabbit trail of his own life, and he’d eagerly dragged his friend down each and every one of them. But then the fighting broke out, and everything went wrong. He definitely wasn’t still in New Rome which meant he was probably back on the Argo II. The infirmary, maybe? He hadn’t spent a lot of time there when Leo was building it, but he was lying in bed and this was definitely not the cabin Leo had designed for him, so that only really left one option.
He lolled his head to the side to see Piper sitting there, his hand grasped tight in her own, while she scowled death at the blanket. Apparently, that movement was enough to get her attention, though, because she whipped her head up and stared at him, eyes wide. “Jason? Are you okay?” she asked softly.
Jason opened his mouth to confirm that he was fine, but then he got a very fun idea. “Who’s Jason?”
Piper’s face went multiple shades paler and she gawked at him in horror. Jason bit the insides of his lips hard in a valiant effort to keep a straight face, but apparently something in his eyes gave him away because Piper’s jaw suddenly dropped in offense and she ripped her hands out of his. “You’re such a dick!” she shrieked. Then she reached forward and yanked the pillow right out from under Jason’s head before attempting to pummel him to death with it. “I can’t believe you’d do that!”
“Stop! Stop! I’m injured!” Jason laughed, half-heartedly shielding his face with his arms. “Stop it!”
Piper eventually calmed down, but not before flinging the pillow directly at his face. “I hate you,” she informed him matter-of-factly.
“You should have seen your face,” he grinned, completely unrepentant. Piper dove for the pillow again, but Jason snatched it to safety, not entirely convinced she wasn’t going to try to suffocate him, if she managed to get her hands on it again. When she sat back down and stuck her tongue out at him, he decided to sober the mood. “Are you okay?”
“I am,” she confirmed with a nod. “Festus helped me get you up here, and I’ve been giving you little bits of Nectar here and there.”
Jason flopped back and stared at the ceiling with a frown. “What even happened? Everything was going fine, and then it just wasn’t.”
Piper flicked her gaze to the side. “Tricky question, Superman.”
Jason felt his heart plummet. “Piper, where’s Leo?”
“He’s fine. Don’t work yourself into hysterics or you’ll give yourself another concussion,” she chided. “It’s just– It’s complicated.”
He waited for her to continue, but she just went back to scowling at the blanket in silence. “Can you uncomplicate it?” he asked, already dreading her answer.
She sucked her teeth for a moment before she began. “So, you know how Leo came up here with Octavian?”
“Yeah? What did–” Jason’s face screwed up in bafflement. “Octavian fired on Camp Jupiter? But why? That doesn’t make any sense.”
“Octavian wasn’t the one who fired.”
Jason furrowed his brow. If Octavian wasn’t the one who fired, that meant Leo was, and that somehow made even less sense. “I don’t understand.”
“No one does, really,” Piper sighed. “I didn’t see anything because Festus brought me straight here, but the others got up on the top deck to see Leo firing the ballistae. It was all a big mess, but it’s mostly sorted now, I guess.” 
Jason’s frown deepened. “Leo was actually firing at New Rome?”
“It wasn’t his fault,” Piper said defensively, and Jason couldn’t help but wonder if the “big mess” had anything to do with it. “He said he was, like, possessed, or something.”
Jason made a little contemplative noise in the back of his throat as he thought over what Piper had told him. He felt like he was still missing pieces, but he was pretty sure Piper wasn’t deliberately hiding anything from him. “Okay.”
Piper did a double take and squinted at him suspiciously. “Okay? That’s it?”
Jason just shrugged. “Look, I don’t know what’s going on, but Leo getting possessed honestly sounds more plausible than him doing it on purpose. Until we get more information, I’m going with that theory.”
Piper continued to stare at him, and Jason got the feeling that she’d been prepared for more of a fight to convince him of her cause. He once again couldn’t help but wonder what the ‘big mess’ was all about, and how it played into everything, but for now he just sat there and let himself be looked at with that suspicious stare. After a moment, she deflated. “I– Okay.”
Jason was going to reply, but at that moment the door was flung open and Leo was standing in the doorway. “Is Jason up?” he demanded. “Festus said he was up.”
Jason just sat up and beamed at him. “Hey, man.”
Leo’s whole face lit up and he bounded across the room and Jason soon found himself with a whole armful of Leo. Unfortunately, before he could realize what was happening, Leo straightened and squished Jason’s cheeks between his palms, forcing Jason’s head to tilt this way and that. “Welcome back to the waking world, Supes. How you feeling?”
“He’d probably be better if he wasn’t being forced to impersonate a fish,” Piper drawled. 
“Yeah, yeah. Whatever,” Leo scoffed, rolling his eyes. Still he dropped his hands, which Jason was, admittedly, glad for. “So. How are you feeling? Any lingering desires to make love with a brick?”
“I– No, I’m fine,” Jason said, but he honestly wasn’t really listening to what Leo said, too distracted by his new outfit. “Leo, what are you wearing?”
Leo looked… Well, he looked, quite frankly, ridiculous. He was stripped down to just his cargo shorts and his usual black tank-top with a pair of welding goggles acting like a headband, which was fine. Jason had seen him in that exact outfit more times than he could count. What was baffling was that he was covered in little doodled tattoos that said things like “Super-Sized McShizzle” and “All da ladiez luv Leo” and, of course “Hot Stuff,” and his hair was slicked back like the guys in that one movie Piper and Leo had made him watch where people sang about their car. Unfortunately, between his scrunched up nose and sparkling eyes and crooked teeth, he somehow managed to pull it off. Kind of. Jason liked it, at least.
“Are you wearing eyeliner?” Piper asked incredulously.
“It’s Sharpie, actually,” Leo corrected. “Toolbelt won’t give me real make-up but Hazel said it makes my eyes pop.”
Jason very much wanted to let him know that Hazel was absolutely right, and maybe request that maybe he could recreate the look more often or maybe see about getting some real make-up, but he decided that he probably wouldn’t survive the humiliation. “Why, exactly, are you wearing Sharpie eyeliner?”
“It’s a kinda long, really stupid story,” Leo dismissed. “I might be able to tell you guys about it later, but just know that I was hot enough to steal Narcissus’s groupies for a few minutes. I think one of them might still be Team Leo even now.”
“I– Okay,” Jason agreed. He already had a headache, and he got the feeling that if he thought about this too hard he might do actual damage. “All the ladies love Leo, which is, apparently, a good thing. Got it.”
Leo grinned at him, all teeth and mischief. “All in a day’s work.”
“Get out of here,” Piper ordered, rolling her eyes. “You look like a dork. I don’t want to look at you any more.”
Leo blew a raspberry at her. “Whatever. You don’t know what you’re missing.” Then he looked back at Jason and his smile was a lot warmer and less playful than it had been a moment before. “I do have to go, though. Ship won’t fix itself.”
“I get it,” Jason said with a nod. “See you around, Commander Toolbelt.”
Leo turned to the door, but he paused right before he walked out. “I’m, uh, really glad you’re alright, Jace,” he said, still facing the hallway before he fled out of sight.
Jason was flushed nearly maroon and he let out a long groan and buried his face in his hands. “Well, that happened.”
Piper snickered at him, and he looked up to see her grinning at him in a way he could only describe as taunting and mischievous, combined with playfully incredulous horror. “Do not tell me you were into that look.”
Jason hummed in thought. “Okay, I won’t tell you that.”
“You’re pathetic,” she informed him. “Literally the most embarrassing person on the planet. Like, I know they say that a haircut is the best way to test the strength of a crush, but come on.”
“I know what I like. Nothing wrong with that.”
“That’s supposed to be about having a type,” Piper chided. “You don’t have a type, you have an obsession. There’s a difference.”
Jason considered that for a moment as well before he grinned. “I think I can live with that.”
Piper laughed, the sound loud and bright and bouncing off the walls of the infirmary, and Jason was glad to laugh along with her. 
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dyns33 · 1 year ago
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Mistake
I need to finish my Shane's era before jumping into a new one or back into an old one.
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Judith didn't understand.
It was normal that Judith did not understand, since she was only six years old, and her parents had not explained everything to her.
The only thing she knew was that her mother had decided that she no longer wanted to live with her father, that she was filing for divorce, and that the little girl was going to have to live sometimes with one, sometimes with the other, but never again with both as before.
She hated her mother for that.
Y/N could have told her daughter the truth. She could have told her that after an argument, Shane had spent the night out, and when he finally came home, he told her that he had cheated on her.
The news was a shock. Like a slap in the face. Shane had never hit her, but that was as bad. Upset, hurt, furious, she did not want to listen to his excuses and explanations, yelling at him to leave, and immediately calling a lawyer.
It was what you had to do in these kinds of situations, everyone said it. Television, films, novels, experts. A man who cheated once would inevitably cheat again.
After eight years of marriage, Y/N never thought Shane would do this to her. She wondered if it was the first time, if he had hidden things from her, if he still loved her, if he had ever truly loved her…
She had loved him. She probably still loved him and that was why she suffered so much.
Y/N could have told Judith everything so that she would hate her less, and see that it was all her father's fault, but she couldn't. Shane had a lot of faults, but he was a great father, who adored his daughter, and who was adored by her.
“I want to be with daddy.”
"I know, darling. You'll see him next Sunday."
"No, I want to see him now. You're mean, I never want to see you again !"
“Honey, it’s complicated.”
It was complicated and hard. Even harder, because she didn't explain to anyone the reasons for her request for divorce. The other parents looked at her strangely in front of the school. People on the street or in the supermarket. Colleagues. The horrible woman who broke Sheriff Walsh's heart, the good Sheriff Walsh, who didn't deserve this.
Even her lawyer didn't have all the details. Far too involved in her desire for justice, but above all for money, she had advised Y/N to do everything possible to obtain sole custody of their daughter, and alimony. This would be easy with certain elements of bad behavior, including cheating.
Y/N didn’t want Shane’s money. She didn't want the house. She didn't want to take his daughter from him. No, she just didn't want to suffer anymore thinking about the moment he opened the door and told her what he had done.
Communication had never been her husband's strong point. He hadn't really appreciated her telling him to leave, but he had left anyway, and hadn't spoken to her since. She dropped Judith off at Rick and Lori's house, and she was going to pick her up there, without ever seeing him.
Messages were sent via their lawyers, nothing else.
It had been almost two months since the procedure had started when they found themselves before the judge. It could have been easy, quick, but Shane didn't like these things. He refused to sign the papers of a classic divorce. He seemed convinced that it was far too simple not to hide something.
"If you try to take my daughter to me, I swear you will regret it."
"Mr. Walsh, no threat." He ordered the judge to him.
"These are not threats. That she leaves, very well, but she will not take my daughter !"
"This is not what is planned." whispered Y/N without looking at him. "We will continue to have her for a week each, and there will be a schedule for the holidays …"
"This is not really what your lawyer said to mine. She made it clear that as a mother, it would be normal for you to get my daughter's guard. I have a better salary, the house is mine, I can take care of her ! "
"I never said …"
"You are often very busy with your work, Mr. Walsh." her lawyer said with a little sly smile.
"How dare you ?! I'm going to ask for exclusive custody, you will see ! Y/N, I won't let you take her !"
"If I wanted to take her from you, I only have to talk about your cheating ! You have to stop now, you have to …"
"What did you say, Madam Walsh ?" asked the judge to her.
Y/N suddenly felt very bad. She hadn't been sleeping for weeks. She was almost ate anymore. The few days she had with her daughter was hell. And now her future ex -husband was going to hate her forever, for a little sentence that she had not been able to hold back any longer.
"… No. No, nothing. I said nothing."
"You've been talking about cheating."
"No."
"It changes everything !" exclaimed her lawyer with triumph. "You have to add this element to the backrest !"
"No, I don't want that. No, no, no …"
Her last panic crisis dates back to high school. Even if it was quite distant, she remembered it well. It was difficult to completely forget this kind of crisis, when it seemed impossible each time to remember how to calm them.
At that moment, there was nothing more, her eyes filled with tears. The courtroom had disappeared, like the judge and the lawyers who were arguing. Maybe she was shaking but she was not sure. Her only certainty was that she couldn't breathe, despite all her efforts.
Then she felt something on her face, something warm, sweet. Reassuring. A voice called her, just as soft, patient.
"Look at me. Baby, look at me. Hush. Calm down. Breathe. Baby, Y/N, calm down."
Shane's hand caressed her cheek while he was repeating reassuring words again and again, asking her to breathe for him. He put his forehead on herswhile taking her hand, placing it on his chest, asking her to imitate him.
His big black eyes did not leave her for a second.
When her lungs finally agreed to work again, he kissed her quickly before returning to his seat. The judge decided that it was not possible to continue the session.
Y/N repeated to her lawyer that she absolutely did not want Shane's cheating to appear on the record. She sent an email to the judge telling him the same thing, asking him to let Shane see his daughter.
A response came the following week, after Judith suddenly changed her behavior, hugging her mother and asking if she wanted kisses to heal. Same thing for Lori or some parents, who had started to smile at her again and greet her like a normal human being.
When she opened the door, Y/N didn’t expect to see her husband. He still had his work clothes on, and he seemed embarrassed like the day he asked her out on their first date.
"… We can talk ?" he asked simply, rubbing his head.
"… Come in."
Nothing had changed in the house since he left. After all, it was his home as he had reminded her since the beginning of the proceedings, even if he agreed that she would stay there until they were officially divorced. But it was mostly because Y/N hadn’t been able to touch anything since that day.
She had been happy in this house, even if she couldn't sleep there anymore. Shane noticed the blanket on the couch.
“Is there a problem with the bed ?” he muttered.
“No, not with the bed.”
"Babe… Look, I know you asked the judge to disregard my infidelity. I… I know it was just your lawyer doing her job as a greedy bitch. I wanted to thank you."
"It's normal. I would never do that to you. I wouldn't take Judith from you."
“But you should !” he almost shouted, hitting the wall. "You should, after everything I've done ! I've been an asshole ! When I told Rick why we're getting divorced after all this time, he almost hit me. Lori hit me. They thought… I let everyone treat me like a victim, because I'm an asshole."
“Shane…”
"No, listen to me. Listen to me until the end this time. That night, I know we had an argument, even if I don't remember why…"
“We had to go to the lake.” she whispered.
"What ?"
"We had to go to the lake. It had been planned for months, Judith was delighted, and then you told me that it was not possible, because you had to work during the weekend."
This wasn't the first time Shane's schedule had disrupted their family's, and it had never been his fault. As a sheriff, he had obligations. Y/N knew it, she understood it.
But she had been disappointed. She had told him that she was disappointed, that their daughter would be disappointed, and Shane had reacted badly, tired from his long day and feeling attacked, criticized, for something that also disappointed him and for which he was not responsible.
"Shit, it's true… And I went to the bar. To that fucking bar. I drank again and again, too much, and the next day I woke up in a motel, with a girl… I had never seen her before, I don't even know her name. I don't even remember what we did, but it was obvious that I had made a huge mistake. So I went back to the house, and I did a second stupid thing."
"What ?"
"I told you everything. I could have said nothing, lived with it, and we would have been happily ever after, you would never have known. But I couldn't. So I told you, hoping you would understand that I didn't mean to do that, that I was really sorry, and that I would never do it again, but you kicked me out."
“Are you saying it’s my fault ?”
"No. I'm an asshole and I hurt you. I understand. I didn't want that, but I understand. It wasn't possible for me to lose you and lose Judith. I'm sorry, for everything."
Shane Walsh was many things, but he wasn't a liar. He had told her the truth about his cheating, and when he told her that he was sorry for this mistake that he didn't even remember having made after drinking liters of alcohol for a pointless argument, he was sincere. When he said he never intended to do anything like that again, he really meant it.
"I don't want to lose you, baby, I don't want…" he sobbed, reaching out to take her hands. "If you really want this divorce, okay. I'll sign, okay. But… If you agreed to give me a chance, just one small chance… I promise I'll never hurt you again. "
"… It's hard, Shane."
"Yes, I know."
"You don't know. You don't know, but I love you. We're going to need help, time, but… I don't want to lose you either."
He kissed her for what seemed like an eternity, only letting her go when he tried to do more and she gently pushed him away, telling him she wasn't ready yet.
Either way, he had to go. He had not finished his service. This surprised Y/N because his work was very important to him and he only came home when he was finished, or for an emergency. He told her this was an emergency, kissing her on the forehead before leaving.
Judith didn't really understand when these parents told her that they were no longer divorcing. Her father had explained to her that Mommy was hurt because he had done something horrible, that she was angry because he had no excuses, but that she had never wanted to make her suffer, so she had to be nice.
Now everything was better, and she still didn't understand anything, except that her parents weren't separating, and that they were going to continue living together, so she was very happy, jumping into their arms with a big smile.
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skylermadness · 10 months ago
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Cosmic Adoration (Ophion TF/PMC)
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(Original Date of Upload: February 14, 2024)
Hey look, I'm uploading something in the same day it gets uploaded on my other accounts. Woah.
Original Description:
Happy Valentine's Day! I've sort of become infrequent when it comes to holiday-themed TFs, but this was actually a story I've wanted to write out for a long time! Quite literally since I started writing it back in January of last year before getting burnt out and never finishing it... until now, anyway. Now I have it done and I can upload it publicly for all to see! I'm quite proud of how this turned out. I typically don't deal in PMC but I feel like that would have been the best route to take this story, and full MC would have tarnished what little themes I was trying to convey with this.  I don't think I have much commentary besides all of that though. I guess I could mention there was going to be a reality change segment in the furthest end of the post-TF, but with how I led that segment of the story along I couldn't really fit it in without it feeling needless and awkward.
   Valentine's Day.
   Initially the very concept of the holiday had eluded Hugo for a good chunk of his life. This had mainly been because he had trouble discerning the purpose of the holiday. Why did such a holiday need to exist to celebrate love? Especially when such a thing could be celebrated on any day of the year. To him, at least originally, it was just a way for stores to boost sales. The most he'd usually acknowledge is the price drops of confectionaries after and that was it. So as far as he cared the holiday was nigh-nonexistent…
   That pattern of thought lasted for about twenty-five years. Then he met… Jace…
   Dating had always been outside of Hugo’s range of social skills. He had originally thought himself as never really feeling the desire for it. He was content with being single, or at least he tried to tell himself that as to avoid confronting any weird feelings he might have. This thought pattern had quickly changed over the past ten months however, and it was all thanks to the introduction of his boyfriend into his life.
   It was… strange, really. Having first fallen in love all that time ago. Was it love at first sight, or was it gradual…? Hugo had originally just been sitting in a coffee shop waiting for his order before going to work, but had encountered Jace after they seemed to recognize him as someone whom he shared a few high school classes with so many years ago. He'd be lying if he said he knew what the guy was talking about, but the thought of being recognized so randomly was quite pleasant.
   Their encounters at that shop became frequent, almost weekly. Casual talks about life between the two, sharing their interests and enjoyments to one another. Admittedly Hugo had been the more reserved one of the two, but he always enjoyed listening to Jace talk about their own life. He loved hearing his voice, he loved hearing him speak so passionately about things, he loved… him…
   It was definitely a little awkward whispering those very words beneath a breath while in mid-conversation. And even more so when they decided to take things outside and less public so they could talk it out. That awkwardness had quickly faded though, their conversation shifting more into the hypotheticals of dating each other. It was silly and lifted Hugo's spirits up a bit after what he felt like was one big act of making a fool of himself.
   Then Jace said he would like to date.
   Hugo was surprised, stuttering and sweating and being filled with complete and utter confusion. Jace then gave him a small kiss on the cheek, the man's mustache ticking the skin and making Hugo feel even more flustered. 
   That was enough to settle everything though. They were officially getting together… but now Hugo had a new problem.
   It's been ten months of them dating now and he felt… inadequate? He always felt like his way of expressing love was lackluster in comparison to Jace's. Jace was the more expressive and outgoing one of the two, meanwhile Hugo always had trouble trying to properly express his own emotions in a way that didn't sound like he was forcing it out of himself. He just always had trouble trying to say things properly. Trying to determine what to say, what to do. Was he romantic enough? Was he receiving without giving back in a perfectly equal amount? Of course Jace had been left unaware of these concerns. Hugo had chosen not to tell these fears to them, which in truth might not be a good idea…
   He shook his head, then whispered to himself. "Why am I such a mess…"
   Realizing he had his head down in thought the whole time, Hugo raised it and looked forward. He was currently walking down the sidewalk of the city's shopping district. It was currently February 13th, the eve of Valentine's Day, and Hugo had decided that with the day of celebrating love fast approaching he should do something for it. It wouldn't necessarily be something grand, but he at least wanted to give his boyfriend something that would commemorate his own love for them.
   That's easier said than done though. Fortunately Hugo had a plan! He was on this particular street for a reason, to visit an antique's store and locate something of value there that would be enough to encapsulate his passion. Unfortunately, that was also easier said than done. He wasn't even sure he'd find something there, especially considering how… odd the wares seemed to be, at least just by a casual glance at the store's website.
   Still, it was an adequate starting point. His steps began to slow as his peripherals caught onto the deep brown wood of a building. Hugo turned, gazing into the windows and finding shelves lined with various peculiar objects. Too many to discern properly. He lifted his head for one final check, staring up at the letting that spelled out the store's name.
   Maurice's Audacious Antiques. The very place he was looking for. Perfect…
   A bell above the door silently rang as the young man walked in and the wooden floorboards softly creaked beneath the new weight introduced upon them. The place had an odd and comfy feel to it. Hugo would describe it as cabin in the woods-type vibes. And considering the rusting of the shelves to his left, this place definitely has age to it.
   His eyes then caught a singular person here. To the right, behind a counter was a rotund man with a balding head and a thick, tied up beard. His head constantly went back and forth between two objects, a laptop and a notebook with poorly scrawled wording in it, while mumbling random things that Hugo couldn't discern. Hugo took a few steps forward before he was in front of the counter, the younger man noting that the older one hadn't seemed to notice him yet.
   "Uh, hi…?"
   The burly bear of a man raised upwards with his eyes wide, sharply inhaling. "Got damn, ya' startled me!"
   Hugo rubbed the back of his head nervously. "Sorry about that… sir?"
   The man's face suddenly shifted from startled to smiling. "No need fer formal'ties! Jus' call me Maurice!"
   "Er, right. I just uh, came here to…" Hugo started to trail off. Should he say the reason why he's even here? Will it even help?
   Maurice raised a brow. "Ya' alright, son?"
   Hugo blinked a few times, then swallowed the forming lump in his throat. "I-I'm fine! I just uh, wanted to find a… gift for someone close to me."
   The older man nodded, stroking his beard in thought. Silence filled the space between the two for a few seconds before one of them spoke again. 
   "Don' think I've gott'n a reques' like that before. Ya might be able to find somethin' in one a' the furth'r shelves though. They have all kindsa trinkets 'n knick-knacks." Maurice advised. He then repositioned his hand to lean his head on its palm. "With our recent batch a' stuff, ya' should find somethin' you like!"
   Hugo nodded in response. "Th-thank you… Maurice-"
   He turned around and went to the area he was advised to go to. The store's amount of stock was unimpressive with only a single row of five shelves filed one after another, but he had settled on checking the fourth one for anything interesting. It looked like it had small stuff in it after all. Although he was a little curious about the store owner's usage of should and would. It felt like they didn't know their own stock. They tried to ignore that though. They had to focus on finding a gift for Jace.
   It was now that Hugo truly saw how strange the objects on these shelves seemed to be though.
   Some seemed pretty normal. A few intricately designed rings, sets of jeweled earrings, and weird looking necklaces with a design-scheme that felt expensive to look at. However, oddities seemed to pop up left and right. A red, glass-looking orb; sitting beside it was a blue orb with gold metal zigzagging across the middle. Some weird sharp pen-looking thing, a golden chalice of some kind, and… was that a marble pauldron???
   "This is so weird…" Hugo whispered to himself. 
   Finding a gift was already hard enough, but the pure absurdity here made things feel more challenging than they needed to be. At least finding something perfect was a non-issue. He casually picked up one of the many spheres, one that looked like it contained an entire galaxy inside, and stared at it in utter confusion. 
   He whispered again, "What is your purpose??" while pushing his face close to the object. He then set it down again, suddenly worried that he might break it.
   "This isn't going to work…" he sighed, slowly stepping closer to the shelf's end and the window beside it. He sounded off more objects in his head as he continued forward. Weird blue crystal, a pair of sunglasses, a censor thing, some kind of… cap??
   For an antiques store all of this felt absurd-
   His confusion was momentarily broken as the peripheral of his eye caught onto something glistening. He turned his head to look and found… another necklace? A fairly simple one at that. It was a single golden string with a white elliptoid object on it. For some reason he felt compelled to pick it up, gently cupping the elliptoid and putting it in his hand.
   "What is this…" he asked himself, lifting his hand towards his face a little. The elliptoid looked almost like an egg. Its shell was adorned with beautifully designed spirals, rigid enough that rubbing a thumb over it allowed him to feel them out a little. It felt nice. Nice and warm. He wasn't sure why it was warm, probably because of the sunlight, but it was oddly calming to him.
   "It does look pretty neat," he said with a smile. His mind was wracking over all the possible representations this single object could hold. The warmth he feels around Jace, the way they have slowly have made him try to come out of his shell, the newness he felt upon realizing his love for them. A small laugh escaped his throat. All of those sound so cheesy, damn. But… they're the truth, are they not? 
   It feels so embarrassing though. His smile falters, his emotions dimming. What if it's too cheesy though? What if it comes out horribly and he makes a fool of himself in front of Jace? Damn it, damn it, damn it, he felt so fucking stupid!!
   He sighs. "I-I'm overthinking this, I have to… I have to calm down. I just…" he looked out the window, sighing. "I just wish I could better show my feelings…"
   Right as these words left his mouth the egg on the necklace began to glow. Bright gold shone from the unknown material, the object slowly shaking as it seemed to move closer to him. Hugo had felt the object moving in his hands and looked towards it, but barely got any time to process it as the object practically flung out of his hand and around his neck.
   "Wh-what the hell-" he exclaimed, feeling a tickling around his neck as the string tied around it. He reached up both hands to try and grasp the mysterious egg-like object and pull it off. However, the moment his palm made contact with it he felt an intense warmth run throughout his entire body. He took a few steps back, bumping into the shelf behind him, as an intense golden glow entered his irises.
   "What is… hhhaaa…."
   A hand opened, fingers unfurling away from the elliptoid as they began to twitch. A strange energy was filling his body, coursing through it painlessly and warming it to a strangely comforting degree. All the while strange changes was beginning to form into his form.
   His hands were the part of his body that first made contact with the necklace, which meant they were the first to have begun their transformation. As Hugo's fingers twitched his nails began to lengthen. They grew longer, the tips getting sharper and curling as if they were becoming claws. Their translucency was lost as they gained a golden tone as well. The skin on his hands started to lighten, a cream color entering them as the softness hardened. A leathery texture had steadily etched into them while their composition became less fleshy and more scaly.
   As the cream-colored scales started to form across his hands, their size was beginning to increase as well. Both hands had stretched out to become larger and thicker. His fingers were getting plumper and meatier. As his hands got larger in size he gripped both of them into fists, his knuckles proceeding to ache for a moment before short, sharp golden spikes erupted from beneath the scales.
   The scales quickly started to move upwards to his wrists and forearms. The area increased in size to match the proportions of his hands. However, this new enlargement had also been due to a gain in muscle mass. Comforting heat surging into his forearm muscles as they began to gain bulk. At the same time the coloration of his scales had steadily shifted, hue changing from its soft cream to a brilliant gold. All the while more short golden spikes erupted from the back of his forearms at evenly spaced intervals before seemingly ending at his elbow.
   His elbows got larger, the scales rapidly transitioning to his upper arm and running beneath the short sleeves of his polo shirt. The sleeves proceeded to constrict, his muscles now bloating beneath the lustrous scurf he was gaining. His biceps bulged beneath the fabric to a quickly noticeable degree. His triceps mirrored those changes as well, Hugo's once skinny arms now having been mostly consumed by his newfound musculature. Rips started to form within the fabric of his sleeves as his delts ballooned, his shoulders widening drastically as everything soon began to flow into his body proper.
   Hugo leaned on a shelf, breathing deeply as he stared down at a hand. His mind was feeling… conflicted, to say the least. A fraction of him wanted to be afraid, wanted to attempt to pry off this necklace from his neck. His other arm was slowly raising itself up to fulfill that desire. But his fingers that were slowly curling around the elliptoid never closed the gaps between them.
   There was still another fraction of his mind. Curiosity as to what was going on, as to what this object was doing to him. A strange desire to let that curiosity flourish and let these changes progress. What was happening to him, why was it happening?
   His breathing slowed just slightly. "What does this necklace want to do to me!?"
   It had to be the necklace's will after all. Such a thought felt so absurd, but in the back of his head he felt it was correct to assume to.
   A sharp exhale exited his mouth as he felt a sharp heat enter his torso for a second. His shirt began constricting even more as he felt his own collar bone widen, his entire frame being made more wide and broad. The one button of his polo he had fastened started straining as a result, his frame clearly getting larger than his shirt had been accustomed too. Shortly after that the comforting warmth entered his torso as well. The light of the necklace's egg glowed brighter for a moment, Hugo beginning to feel a strange feeling well up inside him as it did so.
   As the scales started to converge on his chest their color lightened back to its previous cream tone. Meanwhile, his chest began to swell in size. His pectorals got larger and rounder, packing on mass at a steady rate as his polo filled out more and more. It wasn't long until their thickening pressed up against his shirt, steadily testing its limits each passing second as his cleavage got deeper and more visible within the fabric. The new roundness of his pectorals were quite visible in general. The one fastened button of his shirt would suddenly pop off, unable to hold itself against the slabs of meat that were now his pecs.
   Meanwhile the changes were running down his back as well. The back of his shirt was tightening as his trapezius muscles broadened and enlarged. A sudden surge zipped down his spine, the vertebrae decompressing and getting thicker steadily forcing his height to increase by a few inches over the course of the next few minutes. But the strongest feeling was in two points of his upper back, a massive pressure slowly mounting into them. Two bumps slowly rising from the skin-turning-scales, hard spikes emerging from those bumps and beginning to poke holes in the fabric of his shirt. This pressure only seemed to increase as time went on, Hugo stumbling forward a bit and hunching. He gripped his abdomen with his left arm while he grasped onto a shelf with his right, the sound of metal crunching piercing the air thanks to the strength of his grip and sharpness of his claws. 
   Hugo practically growled at the mix of senses he was enduring right now. "F-fucking hell-" his voice cracks slightly, sounding slightly deeper as it crackles. "W-where'd that comfort go…"
   The warmth he was looking for still remained, albeit now drowned out by the insurmountable pressure in his back.
   His abdomen started to churn, the region rippling as his entire lower half was consumed by scales. Hardened slabs of muscles arose from the area, abs pushing forward row by row. His shirt was riding up his belly during the process, his new muscles being granted increasingly better visible. It wasn't long until a solid eight-pack of abs formed. An even stranger addition occurred in his abdominal as well, golden gemstones formed on the perpendicular folds of his muscles: a massive diamond-shaped one at the bottom of his pectoral cleavage, a smaller one at the base of his first row of abs, and the smallest at the base of the second row. 
   Beneath a hand he felt his side getting indented as well, the muscles in his obliques shifting and gaining in muscularity, strengthening as his chest was barrelling out. All these changes tightened his polo shirt to an even stronger degree, the threads on his sides unstitching due his much larger body size. The size of his newly formed muscles had resulted in the crevices his muscles had produced being visible from indents in the fabric. Due to his increasing height the hem of his shirt continued to rise even more as well.
   By this point, the holes in the back of his shirt has been stretched even larger by the formulating spikes. Although at this point the spikes had grown larger enough to prove themselves as the pointed ends of an external bone growth. This growth had continued to extend and expand, a pair of large triangular bulges swelling up at his back. Pressure just continued to build up as these bulges got larger and larger. More and more of the back of his shirt continued to tear, and the bulges gained more and more definition in their shape to point that they were proven to be more than just bulging scaley growths. But after a few more seconds of pressure building, everything came to one big feeling of relief.
   “GGRRRAAAAGHHHH!!!” Hugo roared, the sound of splitting fabric piercing the air as his back was finally granted escape from its discomfort. What had emerged from the region was a pair of magnificent wings. They were draconic in appearance with the flesh and membranes possessing the same golden scales that the rest of his body had formed. Furthermore his newly developed wingspan was noticeably large, and as the new appendages curled into themselves it became evident that the fingers of his wings were long enough to descend down to the ground. 
   The young man could feel the heat of his blood pumping through the newly emerged wings. Strange tingles and sensations coursed through his nervous system as his brain was forced to get accustomed to them, and in truth he could feel his muscle memory rapidly getting used to having them there. Once all the pressure and tightness had subsided, Hugo shakily straightened his back and looked behind him.
   “These… things…” he stated, his voice continuing to deepen in tone as he spoke. Like the feel of something commanding was seeping into it. “Why does… having them feel so… nice…?”
   Finally unhanding the shelf in front of him, he moves a hand over to give his new wings a gentle caress. That desire to be afraid had been dispelled now, the man filled with a feel of familiarity at the sight instead. These wings were his, and this body…
   This body is yours, a stray thought pierces his brain. The Celestial Egg is granting what you desire…
   Hugo blinked a few times at the thought, and the pupils of his eyes seemed to get thinner which each blink. He then stops caressing the wing and pulls his hand over to rub a thumb on the egg that adorned the necklace.
   “The Celestial Egg…” he whispered, the meekness of his earlier tone of voice almost completely replaced by an almost deific level of deepness. Meanwhile his mind dwells on the object and thinks about what it's done, what it's doing to him, and as he does so he feels a tinge of pressure at the base of his spine. 
   Instead of sitting around waiting for what he knew was about to explode from his body, he decided to just move his other arm behind him so he could push down the back of his pants a bit. It was a little hard considering his legwear was already at the point that it could barely fit around his waist, but he managed to push the top of his jeans just enough that he could let whatever pressure in his rear relieved itself without having to fight against his pants.
   The act had unveiled a small, pointed growth at the base of his spine. Its size wouldn't remain diminutive however as pressure continued to build up within it, that pressure causing it to quickly extend downwards. At first it started out being rather thin and small, like an unimpressive snake slithering out from above the waistline of his pants. However after a few inches it became noticeable that the lengthening appendage was beginning to get segmented, and each segment was slightly larger in diameter than the last. Come ten segments long and it was undeniable that Hugo was gaining a tail, and it was only getting longer. Twelve segments, fifteen, eighteen, twenty two; all with a sequential increase in diameter by almost an inch. Come the mid-twenties and the tail would be about a ruler in thickness. A few more seconds and the segment count reaches the thirties, in which the rate of growth begins to slow down. Thirty two, thirty three, thirty four… then it comes to a halt at about thirty five segments. By then the tail’s width was about a ruler and a half, and the length itself could only be about four times that long. It also formed with the tail’s aforementioned pointed tip, a series of spikes running across the top of certain segments, and a shine from the golden scales adorning it.
   Concurrent with the growth of his new appendage were the swath of changes entering into the lower half of his body. The sea of scales cascaded down all sides of his body, flowing down his waist and hardening the skin of his legs to match the nigh-reptilian nature the rest of his body was garnering. Beneath the shifting scales on his thighs were his muscles which, just like in his arms, were in the process of bulking up and discarding their once skinny appearance. His quads and hamstrings grew in conjunction with each other, absolutely bulging in strength as the denims of his jeans were forced to strain against his rapidly developing musculature. At the back of his legs were his gluteus muscles, them too in the process of swelling up to the point his rear was rounding out a fair bit.
   Pressure surged throughout the bones in his legs, and the bottoms of each pant leg rose up the crus of his own limbs indicating that more height was being added to his body. All the while a low heat burned in his calves, those muscles also ballooning out of the back of the lower half of his legs. By this point all the crevices that divided his muscles were indenting into the material of his pants, splits and tears forming in the sides of his jeans and revealing the shining gold his body had attained. It was like the changes had finely sculpted his form to a body type akin to the Grecian marble statues, except looking like he himself was worth billions.
   The final change in his body’s lower half came to his feet. By now they had already undergone a process to have grown in order to fit his new bodily proportions, larger and wider and thicker. His chunkier toes were pushing up against the fronts of his shoes to such a degree that the footwear themselves was bulging in its attempt to contain them. The heels of his own feet dug into the back of his shoes, and the sides pressed up against their sides. Even a few rips could be heard as the strings began to snap against the bridge of his feet.
   And then came the sea of scales…
   Once beyond his ankles the hardening of his flesh went from the pristiness of the rest of his form to getting mixed with a shade of vermillion around his feet. As his soles were covered in scales an almost reddish-orange hue formed in the area. Meanwhile the top of his feet seemed to practically harden as a scute-like segmenting broke apart the skin, perfectly dividing itself to align with the ligaments of his toes. And by the time this plating extended to the ends of his toes, an almost bronze shade of brown dispelled the translucency in his toenails as they gradually restructured and sharpened. Rips could be heard from the cloth of his shoes as a quintet of pointed claws emerged from the front, curved and pointed and almost bestial.
   Yet none of the sounds of his clothing shattering or the feeling of his form practically improving on itself were as much a distraction for Hugo as they could have been. All during that segment of the transformation his mind was instead focused on his own thoughts. Because the longer the changes are pressed on, the more his body becomes less human, the more information his brain seems to attain. The more the Egg puts into his mind to make his mentality compatible. And he knows it's the Egg that was doing this. His mind registers it as his unique Sacred Artifact.
   “Holding all that is and ever was in the very palm of my hand…” the changing man speaks cryptically, a low and deep chuckle escaping his throat after he makes the comment. He could practically feel the power of his own voice resonating through the walls of his throat. Although that could also be from the scales rising up his neck.
   A grin then forms on his face, any emotion he was feeling earlier cast away as a feeling of pure confidence had overtaken him. “…and out of everyone within you you're making me one of the most powerful there is? I should feel honored considering just who I used to be~”
   He could only grin wider as he felt pressure wracking his very skull. He lets out a laugh of triumphant glee and exclaims, “Yes! Give me that visage and make this Ophion complete!” For a moment the Celestial Egg around his neck glows brighter as if in response to him, then Ophion (who has at this point cast out the name Hugo) continued to grin as his face finally began to push out with his entire skull structure shifting alongside it.
   The way his skull was restructuring was a complicated series of events to say the least. The lower half of his face was being pushed forward, and his lower jaw seemed to be extending and growing to be a bit wider in size in comparison to the upper portion. That portion of his face would only continue to push out more and more into a muzzle, the very features of his face being reconstructed to fit this new development. His nose melted into the muzzle’s tip as the nostrils became holes at the furthest end, meanwhile his lips quivered as small portions of them reshaped into points and hardened as they did so. By this point his new snout was looking to be one that belonged to someone draconic in nature, much like how the rest of his body had. This was further proven by how the dome of his head was being reshaped, humanity rapidly being lost under a deluge of shifts that made his entire skull structure that of an entirely different species. 
   The shape of his skull wasn't the only thing changing either. As the scales washed across his head, rushing past his neck and circling the base of his muzzle, bony protrusions began painlessly erupting from certain areas of his face. On each side of his head a triad of bone spikes would emerge. The series of spikes just barely obscured his ears, which themselves were in the process of repositioning themselves to protrude at the sides of his head while also gaining an almost elfine pointedness to their structure. His eyebrows were quick to fade beneath the scales, quickly replaced by juttings of golden spikes that layered over yet another set of bone spike triplets that would rise from his browline. Even right in between his eyes a very small spike would emerge. And although these weren't spikes, a pair of short and pointed protrusions would extend out of both ends of his chin.
   All while these changes had occurred, Hugo’s somewhat lengthy hair was being steadily sloughed off. With each inch of his scalp the sea of gold claimed clumps of hair would slip off his head. It's once luscious fullness thinned out, each follicle being shoved out at the root by his magnificent scales. As more of his hair continued falling off it would also reveal one last set of growths on his head. The first of which was rising from the middle of his head’s apex, a series of short brown spikes that would soon run down the middle back of his head. The second of these changes however was significantly more substantial. Two brown points erupted from a portion of the upper region at his head’s back, and those points were quick to grow outwards and upwards. Unlike the rest of his face’s pointed protrusions, these ones were noticeably less bony despite possessing an appearance of hardness to them. And as the duo of brown growths continued to rise out from his skull, diameter getting a little larger as they got longer, it was evident that he was gaining a pair of horns.
   Perhaps the last major change came to Ophion’s teeth. The omnivorous nature of his humanity was quickly shifted, incisors and molars quickly sharpening to fit his new species well. The most drastic change would come to his lower canines though as the reasoning for his lower jaw’s protrusion finally came into tangibility. Much like the horns atop his head the left canine of the two lower teeth would extend upwards a fair bit while sharpening itself and, after a few seconds, shift into being more like a prominent fang. The rightward canine didn't get that luxury however as instead it seemed to practically atomize and leave the gum to harden and scar in mere seconds.
   The pressure that had enveloped the anthropomorphic dragon’s head finally began to subside. A glint of red overtook Ophion’s irises as the pupils finally properly slit like a reptile’s. “This feels so… good,” he muttered to himself as he raised up a hand and gently caressed his own face. “Makes me wish I had a mirror to see just how divine I look now!”
   Because at this point that's just how he felt: absolutely divine! His brain can register memories of a world beyond this one, a life beyond this one, all of which has been meshed and mixed with his own thoughts of his previous humanity. The Egg had taken his desire and, inevitably, went a bit overboard in fulfilling it. But Ophion hadn't cared, the personality overhaul he had garnered was absolutely wonderful! No more pitiful fears about how he acts, no more staggeringly low amounts of self-confidence, no more worries about… about how he can show his love to…
   “Jace…” he whispered beneath a breath. The very name carried the same familiarity that it had when he was a human. And thinking about it… about him made Ophion’s brain register the same emotion the dragon had towards him: an intense feeling of love. But now that intensity practically burned inside him, he felt a devotion that not even those atop the System of Olympus could fell. It was an unquantifiable feeling and was something he just couldn't hold himself from expressing!
   “I can finally do what I've wanted for so long~” Ophion proclaimed. He turns and takes a step forward, but is stopped in his tracks almost immediately as he feels a knee of his pants split over his own. It was at this point that the dragon had finally taken full notice of his extremely ill-fitting clothing. His polo was somehow still hanging on for dear life, meanwhile his jeans were a few stitches away from ripping apart at the sides.
   “I'm going to need something better than this if I'm going to look more presentable…” he sneered.
   The Celestial Egg sparkled a bit and glowed for a few seconds, prompting his clothing to sparkle themselves as a bright light enveloped them. A few seconds later and his clothes would begin to grow, expanding over his form so they could all cover him properly. The hem of his shirt was quick to descend over his abdominal region as the entirety of it enlarged enough that his muscle mass wouldn't indent so intricately into the fabric. But then a different change occured, a deep brown beginning to overtake the coloration of the shirt at a rapid pace. As it did so the small placket of the polo began to extend down the middle, golden buttons lining it but not even bothering to fasten themselves. The once small collar would also lengthen, popping itself upwards as it raised higher and higher. And as the shirt’s split finished its full formation the entirety of the shirt would open to now fully reveal his muscled torso. Meanwhile the back of his shirt was seemingly being restitched, the giant hole formed by his wings altering to become more intentional rather than a byproduct of the appendages tearing through it.
   The sleeves of the shirt weren't left unscathed as any rips were fixed almost instantly. The constricted feeling was alleviated, changed to a more snug feel as they more comfortably outlined his upper arm muscles. By the time the sleeves were enveloped by the brown coloration they would also bulge as if they were simultaneously extending in length while still trying to contain themselves to their shortness. This would eventually manifest in the form of his shirt sleeves now taking a rolled up appearance.
   A similar discoloration had entered his enlarging pants, although this time it was more beige in tone that was enough to shift the denim into a different and finer material. The shifts within his legwear were a little less intense as they would also only enlarge enough to allow movement yet still be tight enough to outline his muscles, all while fixing themselves of the damage his unexpected growth in muscle had incurred. The button that held the jeans closed gained a golden tone, as did the zipper, both of which being left completely open despite the fact his pants fit him now. And with no belt the only thing that held the jeans on his body was a pair of suspenders that snaked from over his shoulders and down his torso before promptly buckling on his legwear.
   The last piece of his attire that remained were his shoes which after being enveloped by the Egg’s magical light… straight up dematerialized into motes of light and leaving his feet bare. The motes of light didn't disappear however, instead floating upwards and behind the dragon before seemingly rematerializing into something else entirely. Fine silken material layering onto his back, amorphousness quickly dispelling as it gained a menagerie of whites and browns, all with trims of gold lining. It was hard to fully realize at first but it would seem that some kind of suit jacket had manifested behind him, being worn casually as it was just clinging onto his shoulders.
   With that the Egg’s glow finally dimmed, Ophion now sporting a look that could only be described as both distinguished and casual. With a smile he held the Artifact with two claws and brought it to his face. “Really abiding by all my wants today, hm?”
   For once the Egg didn't shine in response. The dragon wasn't expecting any though, so he unhanded the object and let it drift back to hang over his chest. He then sauntered forward, making his way out of the aisle… and into the eyeline of a very awestruck Maurice who was still behind the counter.
   “Was wonderin’ if I needed to check on ya’...” Maurice commented as he made eye contact with the anthropomorphic dragon.
   “Does this not happen often?” Ophion inquired as he stepped forward towards the counter. “I can practically smell the stench of anomalous magic from this place now…”
   “Err…” Maurice looked away.
   Ophion chuckled. “Do not think I give much of a care with what you do here. Although I do give thanks for your wares allowing me to attain such a brilliant form~ I don't think I've felt this great in ages!”
   “Uhuh…” Maurice nodded, face still in a mix of awe and surprise. “Well, that’ll be-”
   “I'll be deciding the price here…” the dragon practically demanded. He fished around a back pocket for a bit and pulled out a wallet, although upon opening it he was greeted with his former self’s image in the ID photo window. “…and I have a feeling I won't be here for much longer.”
   Ophion then placed the wallet onto the counter, then turned to make his leave. “Thank you for your help, Maurice! Your actions shall be etched into my memory for as long as time flows!”
   Maurice is just left dumbfounded as he watches Ophion leave the store and, after a good few seconds, jet into the air as one would expect a dragon to do.
   “...still not quite sure how to process that,” the storeowner muttered as his gaze drifted to the wallet the dragon had left behind as payment.
----------------------------------------------------------
   The sound of a blender pierced the air of the apartment, Jace idly watching as the fruit within the object was shredded into a fine paste. He was never quite sure how to spend days off from work whenever he was left alone. Especially since he had his hopes on spending the day with Hugo, but it was almost 5PM and Hugo hadn't gotten back from his mysterious shopping trip yet.
   The apartment falls into silence and Jace eyes his phone. Not even an indicator that his last text was read. “What could he be doing…?” the man muttered in concern.
   Then the melancholy serenity of the room was broken in an instant by the sound of a thump from the apartment balcony. A giant shadow being cast through the glass, easily visible from the kitchen’s adjacency to the balcony door.
   “Uhhhh…” Jace backed up a bit, eyeing the shadow with a slowly building fear in his chest. He couldn't make out what it was, it was just large and… monstrous?
   He then hears the balcony door slide open. A sound that prompted him to turn around and scramble for a knife or something to-
   “Jace…” a deep voice called out, interrupting his actions. Jace promptly squeaked in response, heart rate skyrocketing. He very slowly turns around to see the form of a golden-scaled musclebound dragon anthro staring straight at him.
   “Wh-what are you?!?”
   The dragon tilted its head, a spiky brow raised. “How undignified, I probably should've…” he shoved a hand in a pant pocket and pulled out a phone. “Please give me a moment.”
   Jace just stood there in fearful silence as he watched the dragon futz around with their phone, the sound of claws tapping on glass being the only thing fully heard in the apartment. Then after a few moments a look of satisfaction formed on the dragon’s face.
   “Here,” the dragon held the phone out, its wallpaper fully visible to Jace. The man’s eyes widened as he saw the image: a picture of himself and Hugo. This was Hugo’s phone.
   With a shaky step forward Jace began to verbally panic. “Where did you- what did you-”
   A look of realization then formed on the dragon's face. “Jace, my love, it's me. Hugo.”
   “Your love???” Jace exclaimed, eyeing up the golden dragon with some level of fury in his eyes. “I don't- you can't be! For one, Hugo’s a human!”
   “Was, I was a human,” the dragon corrected. “It would be hard to explain it all fully but,” he raised up a hand and tapped what looked to be an egg that was hanging around his neck. “This? This changed me into this glorious form.”
   Jace was far from convinced though. “Please, people don't just suddenly transform into dragons! You- you have to have done something to him-”
   “Our anniversary is in two months, the receipts for the bracelet you bought me for it are in the dresser next to our bed, and you’re still trying to reserve a date for that one restaurant with the shrimp,” the dragon listed out in rapid succession. He then stepped forward with his arms outstretched. “Now do you believe me, my love? Or must I go into your personal confessions?”
   Jace swallowed a lump in his throat. All those things the reptilian spoke of were correct, and there's no way he could've garnered that information unless he was somehow spying on the two of them. “I-I was hoping you wouldn't have noticed any of that!”
   “We live in an apartment, love,” the dragon, Hugo apparently, stated as he leaned over the kitchen’s island. “It's almost impossible to hide such sensitive information.”
   Jace just nods as he stared into Hugo’s eyes, and just looked at his draconic visage in general. He appeared so nonchalant, so calm, and his face seemed to look more tender the longer he looked at Jace. 
   “I'm… still trying to process this,” Jace began leaning onto the counter behind him. “How the heck did you get that… thing that transformed you into this, Hugo…?”
   “I'd like to start by saying I go by Ophion now. In truth I was trying to find an adequate gift for this coming Valentine's Day,” Ophion began to recount. “I found an interesting antique's store a few days back and decided to pay a visit today. Although in truth it seems that place is some kind of front for magical artifact vending but well…” a somber look formed on his face as he took hold of the necklace’s egg and held it into view. “Truthfully I've always felt like an inadequate lover to you. I was hoping to get you something that'd prove myself, and perhaps make up for my lackluster approach to our relationship. Once I picked up the Celestial Egg it resonated with my desires and made me into this. Transformed me physically, mentally…”
   The dragon leaned a little closer, a fervorous look in his eyes. “Perhaps it even deepened my love for you…”
   Jace let out a sharp exhale, then stepped forward to gently caress Ophion’s face. “Hu- Ophion. You don't have to give me some trinket to prove your love to me. And truthfully for me, I never found you lackluster at all! Perhaps a little neurotic but, you were always still a wonderful person…”
   He then gave the dragon a kiss on the snout.
   “...but I should really ask if you feel better about yourself?”
   “I do,” the dragon confessed. Ophion lifted his head out of Jace’s grasp and straightened himself up. His form from the waist up was visible from behind the kitchen island: strong muscles, glistening scales, those weird crystals embedded in his body. Jace couldn't even help but give a glance at Ophion’s wings, the man wincing at the thought of having to suddenly grow those. Nonetheless, the golden reptilian had a certain confident aura that Hugo seemed to always have trouble mustering.
   “I can't say I'm the same person I was as a human,” Ophion admitted. “The way this Egg works, it put so much into me to make me fit an identity I desired. But I will also admit a fraction of that was because I wanted to be able to better show how much I love you, my love~”
   “I don't think you had to change yourself into a literal dragon to show how much you love me,” Jace said with a laugh. “I'm glad you're happy though. I will admit I'm getting used to being called your love, it's so dignified!”
   He then paused. “Now how will we explain to the landlord that my boyfriend has become a real life scalie…”
   Ophion let out a hearty laugh. “We don't need to deal with that now…” he then walked around the counter to properly stand near Jace. “It's just me and you, today~”
   Ophion then brought Jace into a warm embrace. This mostly meant Jace was being pressed up into the dragon's meaty pecs as he was put into a hug. It made the man blush a bit…
   “Now then…” Ophion’s voice lowers to a whisper, and Jace could feel himself being lifted. “How about I show you how a universe can be made…?”
   Jace raised a brow. “What's that supposed to mean?”
   Ophion just chuckled, and Jace turned his head and found himself being moved out of the kitchen. It took a few more seconds for him to fully register what was about to happen as he realized they were moving into a hallway, and everything finally clicked.
   They were heading to the bedroom…
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cardansriddle · 1 year ago
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Gilded Serendipity - (tom riddle x oc)
Part 1/10: "The Element of Surprise"
Story summary: A summer meant to be spent in the tranquil seaside mansion of Rosier's was not supposed to sway hearts like rustling leaves. Sereia Nova was most definitely not supposed to feel drawn to Tom Riddle. Yet August had a way of weaving chaos and desire together, only to dissolve into the shadows, leaving behind a bittersweet aftermath- an ephemeral illusion of love.
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chapter warnings: none for now.
A/N: a new summer au series!!! this will be posted on wattpad as well so read wherever you feel more comfortable reading.
:☆゚:☆゚:☆゚.
Salt air breezed past as the waves of the sea crashed against the rocks, creating a melody that only summer could conduct. There was a certain symphony in the sun-drenched season, a sound not many could pick up and appreciate. 
Sereia Nova had always adored summer. There was something so inherently captivating and enchanting about the season that made it the best time of the year. She gazed at the cerulean waters that stretched endlessly, meeting the vast expanse of the sky in a seamless horizon. She could feel the soft sand beneath her feet and the cool touch of seawater lapping at her ankles.
With a contended sigh, she finally turned her back to the sea to face the mansion standing in front of her. The Rosier summer house stood regal near the shores of Saint-Jean-Cap-Ferrat— a commune on the French Riviera that was mostly populated by wealthy aristocrats. 
The holiday house had a classic French architectural design, adorned with intricate details and sweeping balconies with a view of the vast garden around the mansion and the sea stretching after it. Sereia had spent a few summers here before, but despite seeing it all before, each time she was just as fascinated by the place just as she was the year prior. 
Her family had always had close ties with the Rosiers, and that had only meant Antoine Rosier and her had grown up alongside one another. They had cultivated a sibling-like relationship, a bond that remained unwavering even when they were sorted into different houses.
"Ria, come back inside! Our guests are about to arrive anytime now!" A familiar voice called out to her from the terrace, and she cast a wistful glance at the sea before dejectedly walking towards the mansion.
Majestic columns, adorned with delicate floral accents, framed the mansion's entrance, and as Sereia got closer, she could see Antoine leaning against one of them with crossed arms across his chest. "Well, finally. There you are." He sighed like a disapproving parent, popping one hip and placing a hand over it. 
"I am not exactly eager to greet five Slytherins who are about to disrupt all peace and quiet in the house." The girl huffed, coming to stand next to him to await the guests. She instantly regretted doing so, as the wizard ruffled her hair and placed an arm around her. 
"Oh come on! They are not that bad!" He tried to placate her. "You are friends with Wal and Dahlia are you not?" At her reluctant nod, he grinned, "You only have to tolerate the boys." 
"They behave like children," She scoffed distastefully. Truly, the Slytherin boys were a spoiled bunch of immature wizards. They took pleasure in tormenting the less fortunate and considered themselves superior to almost anyone. She regarded them as nothing more than foolish schoolboys in dire need of a reality check.
"All with due time, Ria. By the end of the summer, you will all be best mates." 
"Whatever helps you sleep at night, Antoine." 
He scowled at Sereia's stubborn nature but before he could attempt to convince her any further, his attention was diverted by a sudden flash. Clapping his hands together, he startled the girl before him, only to swiftly spread his arms wide in a warm, welcoming gesture. "At last!" 
"Antoine!" Dahlia Greengrass squealed with unrestrained delight. She was the first of the group to walk towards the pair, her kitten heels clicking against the ground as she pulled the wizard into an embrace. Sereia had long suspected her to harbour romantic feelings for Rosier. "Oh, what a beautiful place you have here! Thank you for having us." She smiled, ever the polite and gracious girl that she was. She then turned to the witch standing beside him. "Sereia, I have missed you!"
Sereia felt arms wrap around her, and she responded with an equally warm embrace. "I am glad you're here," she expressed as they stepped back from their hug.
"Salazar, mate, your parents are saints for letting you have this place all to yourself for the whole summer." Avery slapped the boy's shoulder in approval, causing Antoine to grin cheekily. 
"What can I say, I work my charms."
Nicholas Avery turned to Sereia, his eyes giving her an appreciative once over before a smirk tugged at his lips. "Well, hello there, Nova."
The witch rolled her eyes at his familiar antics. "Do not even think about it, Avery."
More greetings were exchanged with Abraxas Malfoy and Walburga Black, and then there was one guest that remained. Sereia sucked in a sharp breath when her eyes settled on Tom Riddle. The wizard was oozing with mystery and an irresistible magnetism that seemed to cast a spell on everyone in his proximity. She had scarcely ever interacted with him— had been content to observe from afar. His face was beautifully structured, with sharp lines and high cheekbones that sent any girl's mind reeling with infatuation. Yet beneath the veneer of his extraordinary looks, Sereia had always sensed an underlying enigma that didn't quite match the flawless exterior.
His gaze fleetingly brushed over her, a moment so brief she wondered if she had imagined it and then with elegant strides, he glided towards Antoine. She tuned out their brief conversation, attempting to reel herself back into reality. When her eyes found him again, he offered a curt nod in greeting—no more than that, not even a simple 'hello'—before he followed the others into the mansion. She felt a jab in her right side jolt her out of her thoughts. 
"See?" Antoine opened his arms wide, gesturing towards the guests. "They are pleasant and you are not irritated by them."
"Give it a few hours, Tony." She sighed. "In Avery's case, give it one drink and he will be insufferable." 
"Ever the optimist, Ria."
Her reply took the form of silence as she slipped past him, crossing the threshold into the mansion. Climbing the spiral stairs, she could only think of how she would get to have a few moments of peace in the sanctuary of her chambers. She distinctly heard Antoine giving everyone directions for their respective rooms before—
"Ria!" 
She halted mid-step, her body half-turning to acknowledge him. "What now?"
"Riddle and Dahlia are staying in the guestrooms in the West Wing, show them to their rooms, will you?" He smiled up at her, trying to appease her with his soft expression, and Sereia felt herself reluctantly give in.
"Alright, follow me." The words had barely left her lips when she felt a graceful arm loop through hers, and Dahlia's voice animatedly filled the air, sweeping Sereia into a conversation. 
"I can just sense it in my bones, Sereia, this summer is going to be so good. I mean when had our parents allowed us all to stay together for a whole month without supervision? Antoine said he had the finest wine brought all the way from Bordeaux. Imagine all the—"
The Nova girl subconsciously tuned Dahlia's rant out as her eyes settled on Riddle walking quietly by her side. His expression was impassive, and it was not hard to guess that he was agitated with Dahlia Greengrass' endless chatter. 
"—Does that not sound exciting, Sera?"
For the second time that day, the witch snapped herself out of her trance. "Oh? Yes. Most definitely." She replied mindlessly as they halted in front of an ornate oak door. "Well, Dahlia, this is you. Antoine has planned dinner, so take your rest for now. We will meet downstairs in an hour."
"Thank you." She beamed. "Which one is yours? In case I need to consult you in choosing a dress to wear."
She pointed at the room across hers. "That one."
"Alright, sweet! I will see you soon." With one last flashing grin, she slipped into her room.
Sereia realised a second too late that she had been left alone with Riddle. She deliberately averted her gaze from him, focusing her attention on the path that led to the room adjacent to hers. "This one is yours," she informed him, her voice crisp and resolute. His response came in the form of another curt nod, and he disappeared into the room without a further word. Sereia lingered for a fleeting moment, her gaze fixed on the closed door. "Prick." She whispered under her breath before returning to her own chambers.
With a loud sigh, she sank onto her bed, her eyes tracing the patterns on the ceiling above. "Merlin give me patience."
:☆゚:☆゚:☆゚.
A painful jab to her shoulder awakened her from her slumber. She had not even noticed that she had fallen asleep while in her reverie, and as her eyes fluttered open, the scowling face of Antoine greeted her. 
Sereia groaned. 
"I should have known you would fall asleep at the first given opportunity." The Rosier boy berated her like a disappointed mother. "Get up and ready yourself for dinner." When his words did not receive a response, he impatiently tugged at one of her curls. "Ria!"
"You are the bane of my existence." 
"Likewise," he retorted with a snort, striding toward her wardrobe. With a firm pull, he swung the closet doors open, revealing an array of dresses. "What colour?"
"Blue."
Rosier grinned before pulling out a royal blue dress crafted from a rich royal blue fabric that cascaded with a graceful drape before giving it a once-over. Once he was certain he approved, he laid it down on the bed. "Be downstairs in ten or I will tell the house elves to duck a bucket full of ice over your head." With his threat said, he left the room ceremoniously. 
The witch begrudgingly got up from the soft bed, resisting the urge to groan again at having to leave the snug comfort of her sheets. She approached the large vanity next to the closet and with an intent focus, she set to work on her appearance, determined to mask any lingering traces of sleepiness from her features and tame her unruly hair. Only once after she was satisfied with her appearance did she put on the gown, struggling with the laces for a good few minutes. 
The bodice of the dress was tailored to accentuate the natural curve of her figure, cinched at the waist to create a flattering silhouette. The neckline, a demure V-cut, offered a tasteful glimpse of her collarbone, allowing a delicate silver star pendant— a family heirloom— to catch the light as it rested against her skin.
When she finally descended the stairs leading to the foyer of the manor, she could feel before she could see that they were staring at her. The chatter had quieted down with the first clacks of her heeled shoes against the marble, and when she tilted her head up, she realised she was the last to arrive. Her eyes met Riddle's momentarily, who was caught staring yet seemed unashamed about it, an almost appreciative glint in his eyes. Sereia had to swallow down the heat rising in her body that stoked hotter with every second his dark gaze clung to her form. So she, in turn, took in the sight of him just as he did her.
Dressed in black from head to toe, he looked regal, with his hands clasped behind his back. Sereia found herself involuntarily tracing the lines of his pale face—the sharp cheekbones and the defined jawline that seemed to gain a touch of allure beneath the bright chandelier light. Even without interacting with him, Sereia could feel the enigmatic atmosphere that enveloped him. If mystery were personified, it might well have taken on his form.
Antoine was the first to break the deafening silence. "The sleeping beauty has graced us with her presence at last!" He mockingly clapped as she came down the last two steps. 
"Shut it, Tony."
"Yeah, Tony." Nicholas chimed in with a smirk, finding his own unnecessary comment humorous. 
Rosier shot him a glare. "Nicholas."
"Do not start bickering, you two. Let us just have dinner." Walburga Black interrupted before the two wizards could enter a verbal contest between each other. 
Antoine gracefully led everyone into the dining room, and everyone's gaze strayed towards the table that was full of food. The tantalizing aroma of mouth-watering delicacies filled the air, and the guests, no doubt famished after their travels, dug into the food as soon as it was appropriate. Laughter and animated chatter were quick to enliven the room once again.
As the minutes danced by, time seemed to melt away as Sereia felt herself ease into the company of the Slytherins gradually. She found herself being pulled into a playful dance of witty banter with Avery and Malfoy before her attentions were stolen away by the girls. They whispered amongst each other, indulging in gossip as if they were middle-aged women having a tea party. 
Yet she could not help but notice that whenever her gaze drifted toward Riddle, he appeared to be the least engaged, offering mere one-word responses. Occasionally, if someone's remark managed to amuse him, a fleeting smirk would tug at the corners of his mouth.
As the evening wore on, the group seemed to lose count of the glasses of wine consumed. Sereia grasped the moment to wordlessly slip out of the room and onto the balcony, her exit as unobtrusive as a whisper carried on the wind. The caress of the gentle sea breeze soothed her flushed cheeks. Leaning against the railing, she surrendered to the cool embrace, letting her eyelids flutter shut.
"Sneaking away?"
Startled, her eyes flew open, and she turned swiftly to find that Riddle had somehow followed her out there without her detecting his presence. The girl placed a hand over her heart, feeling it beat erratically beneath the flesh. His eyes briefly flicked down where her hand was placed over her heaving chest, before settling back on her face.
"You scared me."
He hummed and then moved to stand beside her, his gaze shifting to the expanse of the sea. "You didn't answer my question."
She shrugged. "I just needed a moment." 
"For?"
She rose a brow at his questioning. "Are you always so demanding?"
"Yes."
She huffed in amusement before averting her eyes from his profile to watch the rhythmic dance of the waves meeting the shore. It was quiet for a minute, with both of them enjoying the cool air caressing their skin.
It was Riddle who broke it first, his voice only a tone above a whisper. "A siren or a star?"
She glanced at him, brows furrowing in confusion. When he caught her questioning look, he turned so he would fully face her and he clarified. "Your name. Sereia Nova—" Sereia had to inhale deeply at the sound of her full name rolling from his lips, at the way his voice seemed to carry a certain allure, almost seductive in its timbre. She tried to redirect her focus to what he had asked. 
While she knew that "Sereia" meant a siren in translation, she had never understood the reason her parents had chosen that name for her. Her family name, on the other hand, Nova, depicted a bright start bursting powerful energy. Yet this was the first time anyone had given it any thought— including herself. 
"Which one are you?"
The witch lifted her gaze to meet his hovering form with a slight smile dancing on her lips; playful, challenging. "Why don't you figure that out yourself and tell me?" She dared him, her gaze unwavering, before she sidestepped him to reenter the room. His hand, by mere coincidence or calculated intention, brushed against hers as she passed, sending an electrifying jolt along her spine that set her senses ablaze. 
Sereia, sensing his eyes on her retreating form, thought that the summer could prove to be far more interesting than she had first anticipated. 
:☆゚:☆゚:☆゚.
PART 2
(the taglist for this series is separate, so let me know if you wish to be added!)
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cilil · 10 months ago
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Headcanons: The Day of Love
I felt spontaneously inspired to write down my headcanons (yes, I've thought of this before a few times) for Valentine's Day in Valinor, or, as it's known there, the Day of Love, featuring both Ainur and Elves. Enjoy!
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♡ The establishment of a dedicated holiday to celebrate couples and other forms of love and companionship was, as certain people (*cough* Melkor) would snidely remark in later ages, most likely inevitable due to Manwë being a hopeless romantic and Irmo's penchant for playing matchmaker (and subsequently winning bets he made with his wife and siblings).
♡ After Tulkas and Nessa were wed - within the circles of Arda, unlike the other Valar who espoused their partners earlier - Manwë was inspired to take action and create this holiday, as everyone had greatly enjoyed the festivities and many wished to have the opportunity to express their affection for their loved ones in a similar manner, without the pomp of a wedding.
♡ It was decided that the Day of Love would be in spring, as per Vána's suggestion. To this day, there's still some debate among the inhabitants of Valinor whether she simply thought the season was appropriate or whether she was making a thinly veiled mating season joke; the Ever-young, however, has declined to comment on this. It takes place in the month of Súlimë (March), much to the delight of Manwë, usually within the third week since this is (roughly) the beginning of the season, as determined by Yavanna and Vána.
♡ Over the ages, various traditions evolved. Among the first and most notable to this day is Manwë's poetry soirée, where everyone is invited to share their romantic poems and other writings - a special iteration of his regular writing group get-togethers that strives to be as inclusive and affirming as possible. Ever since the first Day of Love was celebrated, Manwë has written a new poem for his beloved queen every single year, and Varda shows her appreciation with breath-taking meteor showers. The event has naturally become important to the Vanyar in particular, especially those who are regulars among Manwë's fellow poetry enjoyers.
♡ Irmo and Estë take great pleasure in hosting a "casual tea time feast" (as described by the Lord of Lórien himself) that welcomes not only couples or friend groups, but also explicitly those who feel lonely on such a day and would like some easy company. While Estë and her Maiar serve herbal teas for health and good spirits and bake lots of delicious cakes and other treats, Irmo prepares his (in)famous punch which so far has never failed to get a party going and distributes special "love candy" that has also come under scrutiny a few times, but is still consumed with great delight by those who dare.
♡ Aside from (more or less) innocent tea party shenanigans, Irmo is wide awake on the Day of Love for different reasons as well, mutating into the kind of entity we know as Cupid. The use of arrows has been forbidden, but that does little to stop the Lord of Dreams and Desire from making his OTPs come true by providing a little bit of "assistance". He gleefully plants courage and inspiration into the hearts and minds of Ainur and Elves alike, so that they may finally confess those feelings they have been carrying around for too long. It has been alleged that he has attempted to play bingo with his brother in regards to these things coming to pass, yet nothing could be proven and Námo, as usual, was silent.
♡ Oromë, being in good spirits as hunting season is drawing near, likes to host a special hunting events where couples (and throuples and so on, naturally) can either compete against each other or team up to hunt and see if their love is strong enough to catch even the greatest prey. While it's all in good fun and the competitive side isn't taken seriously, Oromë and his people do hold the belief that the ability to work together and cooperate, as well as engaging in friendly, playful competitions without hostility or ill will, are important parts of a relationship of any kind and thus can be a good test for couples looking to get married in particular. It is also worth noting that the hunting duels of Aredhel and Celegorm have become particularly infamous and are to this day lauded as a great example.
♡ Tulkas, as always, is looking for a fun little fight and a good laugh, and those sharing his passion are welcome in his mansion for a special kind of celebration. Many Elves and Ainur alike seek to prove themselves in battle against their peers to win the affection and admiration of whoever they wish to court, as well as engage in friendly duels with their friends and loved ones. Making sure that everything is as fair as it can be, Tulkas presides over these fights with glowing pride and invites all participants to attend a great feast after.
♡ Said feast is usually coupled with a special performance by Nessa and her Maiar, as well as others who wish to join them, and afterwards everyone is invited to dance with their partners. It is not unusual for non-martially-inclined couples to spend their day elsewhere but attend Nessa's dance party in the evening, and oftentimes the lord and lady can also be seen on the dance floor together.
♡ For Yavanna and Vána, the Day of Love is yet another instance of their boundless generosity. The two Valier share their gifts and boons freely, providing flowers, fruits and materials for the crafting of presents; sometimes even advice to those who seek it. Year after year, their husbands show their gratitude - as well as vicariously for the rest of Valinor - by crafting and hunting special gifts for them, and it is said that the trees and flowers bloom even more beautifully on that day to celebrate their ladies' joy.
♡ Among the Elves, traditions are varied as well. Particularly famous is the pearl-diving of the Teleri, a test of both courage and skill where young and old lovers alike venture out into the sea and seek to find the most beautiful pearls to bring home to their partners. Ulmo gives his blessings freely to all who attempt such a feat and, together with his Maiar, makes sure that everyone returns home safely; over the years, many a daring Elf had to be fished out of more perilous waters. These pearls - and other treasures that were found - are particularly precious to the Teleri and objects crafted from or with them may even become family heirlooms.
♡ The Noldor, together with Aulë, Vairë and their Maiar, spend a lot of time before the Day of Love crafting wonderful gifts for their loved ones. These creations are a matter of great pride and may hold a lot of different, intricate meanings, often being a key component in courtship. Aside from all sorts of trinkets, couples are often seen exchanging promise jewelry. A particularly noteworthy occurrence over the years was the unveiling of a great Fëanor statue, made by none other than Nerdanel during their courtship, and to this day spectators claim that they have never seen Fëanor this speechless before or after.
♡ The Vanyar, aside from attending the festivities in Ilmarin, are also fond of music and love to sing or otherwise perform for their loved ones. Such performances are often done with special costumes and instruments, and the gifting of instruments is regarded as something especially intimate and meaningful. Those among the Maiar of Manwë and Varda who are not too fond of poetry like to join the Vanyar instead, offering their own songs and arts as entertainment. Eönwë and other avian Ainur are regularly asked for their feathers and even grow special plumage to accommodate these requests.
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Thanks for reading! Feel free to take inspiration from these (though as always a little shout-out is appreciated if you create your own stuff based on this post ♡).
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lee-lucius · 1 year ago
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A New Kind of Affection
Summary: Izzy Hands accidentally reveals how touch-starved he is to Stede, who is more than happy to help.
Word Count: 2,765
Happy Holidays and Happy New Year @aaaxolotl I was your Secret Santa! This was super fun to get to make, and I hope you enjoy! 💙
He still wasn't quite sure how Stede had dragged him into any of this. 
It hadn't been long, only a week or two, since Stede called him into his room, oddly similar to tonight. He'd asked for them to dine together, and well, Izzy didn't see much of a reason not to indulge his captain in his strange request.
They met in Stede's room for a surprisingly pleasant dinner, though Izzy felt unsurprisingly underdressed compared to his host's garish outfits, and he was well aware his table manners left much to be desired, but neither of those had been quite necessary for a pirate's life, and Stede didn't seem to mind, not when he was seemingly so enthralled by the company. 
Through Izzy teaching him how to fight, they'd grown fairly comfortable with each other, building up a rapport that was considerably less antagonistic than it had been before. They fell back into it over dinner with ease, perhaps more amiable than they'd ever been, and Izzy found himself even laughing at a few of Stede's jokes, though he hid it behind a strategic cough or two.
Neither of them realized, or cared, just how much they were drinking until they were stumbling around the room, hiccuping around their laughter, for once a genuine smile on Izzy's face.
Memories of that night were fuzzy, and what happened next wasn't entirely clear, but he crumbled under Stede's inquisitive gaze, his warm smile, his soft whispers, and he'd admitted something he shouldn't have.
Something he'd hoped that they'd both forget come morning, even when Stede squeezed his hand before he left, promising something about him being more included, more appreciated, before Izzy stumbled back to his own quarters, flushed from more than just the booze. 
He wished he hadn't admitted it. His jealousy when he watched his crewmates, or his captains, and saw the easy air around them, the casual touches and comfort; something about them made envy stir in his chest, thinking about the kind of relationship he hadn't let himself have for years, or maybe ever when he really thought about it.
Now, on The Revenge, it seemed more of a possibility than it ever had before. After breaking down, being vulnerable, Izzy was welcomed; something had shifted; whether it was in him or his surroundings, he didn't know, but it was a good change, no matter how uncomfortable it had been.
His relationship with the crew was different now. Friendly, because he'd finally allowed himself to be open to their friendship, and the change was more gratifying than he ever would've thought.
It was the most relaxed, most relieved Izzy had been in a long time, but he still wanted more, even if he felt he didn't deserve it.
He never would've pursued it ordinarily, admitted it to anyone besides himself, if his drunken self hadn't betrayed him entirely.
But that change, the change Stede brought on, was a good change too.
When they'd met again the next morning, Izzy more pissy than usual with his aching head, he thought Stede may have forgotten it based on his aimless ramblings filled with pleasantries that Izzy had to bite his tongue to sit through. 
Stede asked him again to meet him later in his room, and Izzy agreed; he hadn't expected what happened. 
He supposed it would be like the previous night, a pleasant conversation, perhaps a shared meal, a drink or two, though certainly not as much as they'd indulged it before.
And it had started that way. There was something about Stede, something that used to make Izzy's skin crawl, his anger, his annoyance overpowering everything else he felt about it, but now it only filled him with warmth, an easy, familiar feeling that allowed him to unwind. That must've been why he didn't suspect anything, certainly not when he and Stede shared a drink, casually picking at a tray of assorted snacks he'd prepared.
Maybe he should've; when Stede sat next to him this time, instead of sitting across from on the other side of his long table. It could still be ignored whenever they bumped shoulders or when one of them shifted slightly, their knees accidentally touching, or when they both reached forward at the same time, hands colliding for the briefest second before Izzy pulled back.
Until their food was finished, abs the conversation lulled, a not uncomfortable silence enveloping them as they nursed their drinks, and Stede, seeming to muster all of his courage, leaned into him, curling into Izzy's side and resting his glass on his shoulder with a content sigh.
Izzy stiffened, and his muscles didn't relax again for a long time, but they both kept the silence, and Stede didn't move.
His breath was steady, ghosting against Izzy's cheek and leaving a faint trace of Stede's wine, fruity and rich. While his hair was soft, delicate strands brushing against and tickling his ear, but he couldn't be bothered at the proximity, at his hair that was too lovely and soft and clean to ever belong to a pirate, yet here Stede was. Izzy wondered if it was Stede's pulse or his own that he felt, drumming violently against his skin, wondered if it mattered.
Not long afterwards, Izzy excused himself, and they parted ways; this time, he had no excuse for his blush.
-
He didn't know why Stede kept inviting him, or why he kept coming.
It wasn't something he was familiar with. His family had never been awfully affectionate. And as he got older, as he became a pirate, the opportunities became fewer and fewer.
Most contact came during a fight, in the form of a sword or gun or swinging fist, where the only pleasure that could be found came from the adrenaline coursing through his body, the satisfaction of winning, of surviving. There were few other means that arose on a ship aside from boyish tussling, accidentally knocking shoulders with his crewmates, or the rare moments of intimacy when he let someone else, let Ed, tend to his wounds after a particularly bad fight.
But Stede Bonnet came along with his eccentric, unpirate-like ideals and continued to confuse Izzy the same way he had since the first day he met. Bringing that unnecessary frivolity with him and introducing everyone to lavish comforts they didn't want to forgo. 
That, he supposed, was why he continued to join Stede; he didn't want to give it up just yet.
Which was why he was sitting on his couch, thumbing through a book from Stede's library, which was still a horrible idea, even if it made for interesting entertainment, with Stede next to him, hand holding Izzy's as he thumbed through his own novel.
It was one of the more relaxing ways he'd spent an evening in quite awhile, or it would've been, if there wasn't one thing nagging him, making his mouth twitch as the uncomfortable feeling spread. "Stop that?"
"What?"
"The hand," he murmured, gesturing with his neck as he struggled to insert his bookmark with only one hand.
"Oh," he let go, a slight frown tugging at his face as he leaned away a touch. "Sorry."
"Not you. Just tickled a bit."
Stede paused, the smile returning with a playful twist, "You're ticklish?"
He grunted, eyeing him warily. "Guess so. Never really been before."
"I've gotten into a few good-natured scuffles in my time. It can be quite fun!"
"You like it?" He couldn't help asking, surprised at the sudden admission. 
"Well, I've certainly always enjoyed it."
Izzy huffed out a laugh. He supposed it wasn't that surprising; Stede always had been odd, and it was just like him to like that kind of thing, something so strangely cute.
Leaning back, his eyes raked over Stede, cautiously debating in his head. It was clear as day that Stede was comfortable with him; the only limiting factor seemed to be Izzy's own hesitance, his lack of familiarity with the casual touches Stede so readily gave. He was being quite open about his fondness for tickling, almost suspiciously so. And while Izzy had never even dreamed of tickling someone before, had never even been the one to initiate contact between him and Stede in a non-violent manner, he supposed that here, now, wouldn't be a bad time to start.
"Let's see it then," he shifted, angling his body as he leaned closer to Stede, searching his eyes for any tinge of desire, of excitement.
"Go right ahead!"
His smile grew, eyes brightening at the prospect, but there was an undercurrent of shyness there, weighing down his cheerful expression, matching Izzy's own nerves. 
Slowly, he reached his hand out, touch and hesitant as he dragged in along Stede's arm, grazing his silken shirt. While Izzy had never been tickled directly, he'd experienced it plenty of times through accidental touches brushing against his own sensitive spots, so he had a fair idea where Stede would be ticklish; he just didn't know how much he could handle, yet.
Keeping his touch light, Izzy placed a hand in his stomach, unable to help a smile at his small gasp, and gently dug his fingers in, scratching at him through the cloth. 
At his deep breath, Izzy's eyes flitted back up to Stede's face, taking in his widening smile, perhaps brighter than he'd ever seen it before, as a giggle erupted from his lips, more pushing through in a steady stream of laughter as Izzy brought his other hand up to squeeze Stede's sides.
"Pretty sensitive, aren't you, Bonnet?"
"I suhuhppohose!" He huffed out, hands clenching and unclenching in his lap, trying to stay still for Izzy.
"I wonder where else…" he hummed, fingers dragging up towards his ribs, lightly pinching the crevices as Stede huffed. He was less ticklish there, but it was worth it to see the way his eyes crinkled, squeezing shut with a whine at Izzy's relentless pokes and prods to the area.
He continued exploring, marveling at how his armpits made Stede shoot his arms down, his resolve not to impede Izzy crumbling at the overwhelming sensations, while his neck made him scrunch up, looking oddly reminiscent of a turtle. Even his ears were ticklish, and quite sensitive to gentle scratches and traces, even more so when Izzy blew gentle puffs of air on them, making him squeal.
But his knees were probably his favorite spot. If only for the fact that when he squeezed it, the most adorably obnoxious snort burst from Stede, forcing him to bury his face in Izzy's shoulder in shame, while the other desperately tried and succeeded to produce the noise again. 
Gentle tickling seemed to get to him worse, if the way he shrieked when Izzy's nails glided against the backs of knees were anything to go off of. Even if it only produced quieter giggles compared to the full-bellied laughter Izzy knew he could force, it was better for watching Stede, seeing the miniscule changes in his expression, in his voice, and for allowing Stede to focus on Izzy's occasional teasing.
"Still having fun, Bonnet?" 
"Of… cohohuhurse!" He exclaimed, a tired sheen to his eye at how long it'd been, but his joy was much more prominent. 
Izzy opened his mouth but quickly snapped it shut, head swiveling around at the sound of the door opening,only to find Ed standing there, a confused grin hanging on his face.
"Is this what you two are always doing in here?" He laughed, stepping inside and shutting the door behind him.
"Ed!" Stede breathed out, face brightening again at the sight of his as he sat up straight, trying to smooth out his clothes, his hair, all while keeping his eyes locked on his partner.
Izzy stood up, taking a step away from Stede as his gaze flickered between the two. Would Ed mind him touching Stede like this? Stede had said it was fine, but he wouldn't want to overstep more than he already had, wouldn't want to take anything more from Ed.
"Well come on, mate," Ed faced Izzy, smile shifting into something devious as he walked closer, "why stop now?"
"You… don't mind?" He couldn't help asking, still not sure how he fit into a situation like this.
"Stede, you mind?"
"Nahat at all… I was just showing Izzy how fun tickling could be. He was much better than I would've thought!"
"Is that so?" Ed smiled, walking past Izzy to sit down next to Stede. "Think he's shown you enough yet, Iz?"
"Not quite. I think he still has a bit more to show us," he sat down on the other side of Stede, accepting Ed's acceptance of his role there. If it didn't bother Ed, then he wouldn't let it bother him anymore, even if he was sure everything between them wasn't exactly resolved yet.
Stede laughed nervously, glancing between them, "What else is it you want to see?"
"Mostly…" Ed hummed, grabbing one of his arms to wrench it above his head, waiting for Stede's nod of approval before digging into his underarm, "to see you laugh your ass off."
"Ehehehed!" He cackled, helplessly flailing, and Izzy took that as his cue, bringing his hands back down to squeeze at his thighs and knees.
If Ed wanted to push him, he could do that. And, judging from looking at them, Izzy guessed this wasn't the first time something like this had transpired between Ed and Stede. He only wondered if Stede had realized how awfully ticklish Ed was too, a secret Izzy had long since learned and guarded, but didn't seem inappropriate to reveal later, after they'd finished with Stede.
"Ihihizzy!"
"C'mon Stede, you keep saying our names like that. Just spit it out. What's on your mind?" Ed cooed, lightening up on his tickling to give him a moment to breathe.
"Ihihit's a lohot," he panted, grinning from ear to ear, "buhut it's fuhuhun."
"'Course it is. We're just getting started," Ed purred, delighting in how Stede's flush grew at his words, heart skipping a beat.
Izzy watched Ed kiss Stede's forehead, an uncomfortable pang shooting through him, until Ed turned back to him with a grin and wink, and together they resumed tickling Ed to bits.
-
"Good time, love?" Ed smiled afterwards, helping Stede to his bed.
"Yes, it was all quite lovely," he sighed dreamily, pulling him into a quick kiss. "But I do like it more when you're the one under me."
Ed reddened at that, laughing away his nerves as he glanced back at Izzy, who was awkwardly trailing towards the door.
"Where are you going, mate?"
"I thought it was time to excuse myself," he cleared his throat, averting his eyes. 
"No, no. Come here," Stede beckoned, and Izzy supposed he never really could say no to him that easily, certainly not now, so he swallowed and stepped closer and closer until he was standing by Stede's bedside.
Stede took a breath, reaching out for him, cupping his face, bringing his own closer, as he whispered, "May I?"
Izzy's eyes flickered to Ed's face, seeing only a smile and the slightest nod, not a hint of jealousy or resentment to be found. And so, he allowed himself to once again indulge in the luxuries that came along with Stede Bonnet, closing the distance between them to capture his lips in a gentle kiss.
Stede beamed at him when they pulled back, and he could only wonder if his face was as hot as it felt, practically petrified until Ed grabbed his hand, tugging him forward. "Come on, Iz. Get comfortable," he said, shrugging off his own leather jacket and slipping off his boots before he slid into bed beside Stede.
Even Stede's large bed was a bit cramped with the three of them, but Izzy thought it may have just been the best sleep he'd ever had. 
It was only affirmed by what he considered the best morning of his life as he woke up in the early hours, watching the sun stream in through Stede's windows, illuminating the two beside him that made it all feel so divine.
A faint breeze blew in, the cold weather penetrating the peace of their haven as he curled further into bed, into Ed and Stede, suddenly reminded on what day it was. As he stared at them, he could only smile, feeling at peace. He didn't know what the future would hold, but as long as he had them, he could feel secure and welcome the new year, whatever it brought.
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zoeykallus · 2 years ago
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hiiii! happy holidays!! i was wondering if you would be interested in doing a hunter x fem reader one shot where hunter and reader have been friends for a long time (through the gar) and at a ball/dance/fancy event they see each other from across the room… stunning and beautiful and all done up *sigh* maybe some angst and some suggestive bits… as much as you would like hehe ;) thank you for everything!!
Aloha! Thanks! And sorry for the late response!
The idea sounds cute, let me see what I can do with this 😊
Hunter x Fem!Reader One-Shot - Seeing You With Different Eyes
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Fluff/Romance/Friends To Lovers
____________________
You have no idea why you are so excited that Hunter will see you in an evening gown today. The thought quickens your pulse and tingles under your skin. You've been friends for a while, and yes, in some ways you are attracted to him, but you've never explored that feeling further until today.
You tug carefully, uncertainly at the dress you're wearing. The soft, gentle fabric nestles flatteringly against your body, it is partially transparent, feigning a certain nakedness, yet covering your entire body. A charming and yet very elegant sight. The dress moves gently with every movement, a mix of princess, elegant seductress and festive appearance. You love this dress, it is perfectly fitted to you, showing enough to be slightly seductive but not too much. You know you look great, you admired yourself in the mirror for a while for once, very pleased with your outfit.
It's not often that you feel so comfortable in your skin and clothes and the curious, amazed, interested and sometimes envious looks are balm for your soul.
You are quite sure Hunter can only love the sight, and yet you are nervous. In your mind you scold yourself a fool, why is this so important to you!!! You are friends, nothing more. But you would be lying if you denied that you are attracted to him. As much as you enjoy his friendship, because he's a great buddy, caring, kind, funny, sometimes you've felt it, that little longing echo deep inside you, the desire to be more to him than a friend.
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Hunter has entered the hall, but hangs around in the entrance area, so that he can overlook the field, but does not come into focus. More or less unconsciously, he looks around for a familiar face, for you. He knows you're here today, too, and the thought tingles in his gut. He keeps nervously tugging at the collar of his unfamiliar dress uniform, an outfit he doesn't wear very often.
Then he sees you. You are like a sublime phenomenon, the dress you wear underlines your elegance, sexy, cute, adorable. He gulps and eyes you from a safe distance, you haven't spotted him yet. Hunter just can't tear his gaze from you.
His brothers, the rest of Clone Force 99, finally show up as well, standing uncertainly by him. They all look incredibly dapper in their dress uniforms, but also like they feel out of place.
Finally, your eyes meet. Hunter feels caught, he's been watching you the whole time, but he smiles at you from a distance, not avoiding your gaze. His heart is beating way too fast, he's surprised at his own nervousness. He's never seen you like this before.
"Damn, she looks beautiful," he murmurs softly to himself.
Echo who heard his words elbows him in the side and says, "Then what are you still standing around here for? Get over there."
Hunter clears his throat.
"I can't, we're friends, I shouldn't perceive her the way I'm doing right now…. besides, I'm way too nervous" he says uncertainly, inconspicuously wiping his sweaty palms on the fabric of his pants.
Crosshair rolls his eyes and grumbles, "I'm going to find a drink."
Hunter leans against one of the marble columns in the room, trying to look casual, still gazing at each other almost longingly from a distance.
Wrecker chuckles, "He's doing the pose."
Hunter looks at him with raised eyebrows.
"What?"
"Oh, nothing," Wrecker says, suppressing another giggle.
Hunter looks in your direction again, but you are no longer there. Almost in a panic, he scans the room with his gaze, feverishly searching for you. When he suddenly hears your voice very close, he nearly jumps out of his dress shoes.
"Hello Hunter."
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He turns to you in surprise, his smile absolutely adorable.
"Hey," he says almost shyly, "you look stunning."
Heat rises in your cheeks, and you can't help but smile broadly.
"You don't look bad yourself," you say, folding your hands behind your back, afraid to wave them around nervously.
Hunter tugs at his collar again and says, "You think? Feels weird, very unfamiliar"
"Looks fantastic on you, though," you assure him.
He scratches the back of his head, changing his posture a little. You can tell he's nervous, but you blame it on the formal, unfamiliar event he's attending.
"Well, fantastic is probably an exaggeration," he says with a wry smile, leaning against the column again, but this time looking much more awkward than before.
Echo says quietly, "I can't watch this, I'm going to find Crosshair".
"Wait I'll come with you" Tech says hurriedly and follows Echo.
Wrecker stands there indecisive for a moment, but finally hastily follows his brothers and calls over his shoulder with a wink, "Don't do anything naughty, kids"
It takes a while for the initial nervousness to subside. You're both surprised by how unsettled you are with each other today, you've been friends for a long time and are actually pretty comfortable with each other. But today everything is different. Today, something has come to light from the depths of your being that holds you both under a spell.
The music wafts through the room, he finally dares to ask you for a dance, which you are only too happy to agree to, albeit with soft knees.
Slow dancing with Hunter, your heart beats up to your neck. The way he holds you, guides you, it seems so gentle and yet determined. After the dance, he doesn't take his hand off your hip as he leads you to the side to a quieter corner. His hand is still there as you look deeply into each other's eyes. Hunter is not even really aware of it, his subconscious just trying to make contact with you any way he can.
"You look at me differently today," you finally dare to say.
A slight pink tinge creeps into his cheeks as he replies, "I could say the same about you."
Shyly, you smile at him and admit softly, "True."
Several seconds pass, heartbeat after heartbeat. Then it happens, you don't know exactly how, but his face comes closer and closer, he leans towards you. Your eyes close, it's like magnetic attraction. His lips touch yours, they are softer and warmer than you expect. The kiss begins softly, almost chastely, but it lasts long, his lips lingering on yours for a sweet little eternity.
You are almost dizzy with excitement, your hands grasp the jacket of his uniform, afraid to lose your footing at any moment. When your lips slowly separate as if in slow motion, you open your eyes again and look into his, you are a little breathless.
You look at Hunter, he knows just like you, there is no turning back now, the cat is out of the bag. There's nothing left to deny, and you don't want to. You can tell by his smile that he feels the same way.
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Ko-Fi (If you feel like giving me some coffee)
@rintheemolion
@andyoufollowyourheart @clone-whore-99
@brynhildrmimi @kaliel2310
@misogirl828 @tech-deck
@meshla-madalene
@chxpsi
@thebahdbitch
@nahoney22 @ladykatakuri
@darkangel4121
@ttzamara
@arctrooper69
@padawancat97
@agenteliix
@allsystemsblue
@palliateclaws
@either-madness-or-brilliance
@ortizshinkaroff
@andy-solo1
@hunterssecretrecipe
@heyitsaloy
@greaser-wolf
@extrahotpixels
@hated-by-me
@hunterxcrosshair
@malicemercy
@bebopsworld
@echos-girlfriend
@taskfork-archive
@cpnt616
@starwarsnerd111
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rriavian · 1 year ago
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According to your universe, which feeling Corinthian feels most towards Dream? Is it Desire or devotion or anything else?
And which feeling Dream feels most towards Corinthian? Is it affection? Or Desire? Or possessiveness or something else?
It is not necessary to mention one answer only. You may write a paragraph on what range of feelings they have for each other
Jessamy, my dearest—you have been incredibly patient thank you so much for this question! I’ve been thinking about this for weeks (it’s been sat in my drafts since before I went on holiday) but spent a while trying to get the wording right. I hope you enjoy my answer <3
I do think it’s love! Just perhaps not a human love.
The Baiting the Trap ‘verse works on the premise that after hundreds of years of sexual tension the Corinthian finally gets the chance to act on it as well as his anger at his creator. He was pretty certain Dream was going to destroy him afterwards so decided to just go for it. He’d been cool and collected for far too long and the lid was not going back on that box now it’s open. Dream is no less interested (he did initiate after all) but though far more unhinged when it comes to love/jealousy his sexual desire is a bit more chill. Idk, maybe it’s because I’m ace but I see him as being like ‘eh, depends on the sex so you better make it good’ when it comes to taking someone to bed.
It’s the devotion in observable/tangible actions that I think reels him in, that I think is the real lure, the single minded focus of another all for him is something Dream doesn’t bother trying to resist. He'll never see it as a weakness either. I think it stems partly from a unmet need to feel entirely accepted, entirely wanted, when so often there are parts of him that others find too extreme.
Too sharp.
So Baiting the Trap is still only just entering the second ‘arc’ which means there’s a lot more to some but…
The antagonism, the extremes, the spectrum of morality and the acceptance/competition of each other’s sharpness…it’s always going to be a large part of their relationship. Though I would add that I think the Corinthian’s greedy possession is a grounding force, which I’ve mostly implied up to this point but there will be some more explicit confirmations coming up in the series. Dream likes how fiercely he’s claimed, how intent his nightmare is on knowing him. Yeah it's the Corinthian figuring out weaknesses too but…it’s looking beneath. Trying to see him as he is.
It’s wanting to.
And it’s wanting to put his fingerprints all over him.
Dream made the Corinthian (which gives us all the wonderful facets of a creator/creation dynamic) but…to him there is something unique about being chosen. About laying the bait and having the Corinthian decide to take it every time. Even if Dream knows that he will, knows that he can offer himself, he isn’t forcing it. As much as that prods at the Corinthian’s desire for agency, stings his pride, it also gives to it. In a way BTT Dream is soothing the original wound of the Corinthian’s betrayal for them both. He rebelled by turning away, by leaving, but this is him deciding to act that frustration out while also no longer denying how much he wants Dream.
So just by being so obsessed with defeating him in such a deeply personal—up close and incredibly intimate—way, the Corinthian is effectively giving Dream all the attention he could ever want.
Promising a constant supply of the devotion I think Dream requires to feel satisfied by a lover.
Though it’s by no means one sided. The Corinthian gets a taste of looking at the bigger picture, at Dream’s responsibility for the larger scale, and that’s compelling to him in this context because understanding it allows him to enjoy what it means for his creator to turn away for even a little while. Disgruntlement over Dream’s commitment to his responsibilities has always been (and always will be) a source of tension in their relationship. But this is also a manifestation of the Corinthian’s canon need to prove he was made right—that I also tend to interpret as his wish to prove he is the most worthy believer, the only one to do it correctly—so now he dares blasphemy so he can worship without distance.
While Dream is enjoying the novelty of being the singular object of another's focus, the Corinthian gets to enjoy moments of having what is essentially a universe stare him down without blinking. And that fulfills his own need for attention, his own desire to feel wanted. It’s like sauntering right up to a god busy answering prayers and grabbing them by the hand.
It’s saying ‘reply later I want you now’.
Of course possessiveness and obsession often appear alongside an additional dynamic of ownership that borders on objectification. But with these two I’ve always seen it differently.
Above I mentioned Dream finding the Corinthian’s possessive nature to be a grounding force, and this is really just a continuation of that point because the Corinthian feels the same way about Dream. I don’t think dehumanisation/objectification really works the way we’re used to conceptualising it with characters that have never been human in the first place. We can’t take humanity away from them but what we can take is personhood. Which I think is something both Dream and the Corinthian value incredibly highly. To be honest, I think that in many ways they both use what we might see as objectification to affirm identity in/to each other, to affirm personhood.
It’s a return of self, not a denial of it, humanity the real box when the Corinthian and Dream have always been Other.
It might sound odd but I see a lot of their relationship through this lens. The Corinthian is a ‘thing’ in the same way as Dream is, an object of the same kind, with a function and a role, but that doesn’t deny a sense of self. They don’t need to be in conflict.
So I suppose in BTT that’s really what it’s about. How their relationship supports a reaffirmation of both of their identities. The Corinthian is Dream’s creation, his nightmare, his masterpiece, but that doesn’t mean he’s just a thing to him. To me the creator/creation dynamic adds identity, adds agency, contributes to the fullness of character rather than taking away from it. Neither of them have to scale themselves down. They don't have to make themselves smaller. So that's another part of what these characters can find in each other, part of the balance I like to write, part of how they ground themselves while also enjoying testing their own extremes.
It’s love and possessiveness and you help me keep my balance. It’s I can be me to the fullest, it’s no part of me is ugly to you. It’s nothing will make me look away. It’s I will fight with you forever and you will let me, you won’t burn out, you can take all that I am.
You want all of what I am and that is love.
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