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child-of-the-nights · 10 months

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Various characters on your birthday

A/N: So this is very self indulgent because yesterday was my birthday (yippee!) but I wrote some headcanons with a few of my fav characters from the fandoms I write for. Anyway have fun reading!

Warnings: none

Characters: Aro Volturi, Emperor Belos, Elrond, Shadow Weaver, Thranduil

Aro Volturi:

Now, celebrating birthdays in the vampire world is a little bit different. Since most people at the palazzo have been alive for centuries, they don't really celebrate their birthdays every year. It's more like every decade or even every 100 years.

However, if Aro's mate is still human or a newborn vampire, they can expect to have a big party thrown for them. Even if they prefer solitude, they can expect to at least have the family invited. That being Caius, Marcus, Athenodora and Sulpicia.

Aro obviously gets his mate the best gifts. He can, after all, see their deepest wishes with a single touch. His mate had seen something online and thought "wow, it would be nice to have this"? Aro had already added it to the list of possible birthday gifts.

Obviously he would buy them more meaningful gifts as well. For example, maybe the mate absolutely loves a certain book series, well Aro would commision someone to make them a special edition of the books.

His mate can expect to find love notes and poems all over the place on their birthday. Aro is a gifted writer and he makes sure to capture all the things that he admires about his mate. Which is pretty much everything. Seriously, he can barely name anything he doesn't like.

The entire day is planned carefully by Aro and he intends to go through with his plan unless something absolutely crucial needs his attention. In that case, he promises his mate that he'll make up for being away.

Aro will ask them to dance with him to their favorite songs. Whatever the song may be, he would find a way to dance with them.

It brings him great joy when he sees how his mate has so much fun. Especially if they are holding his hand while doing so. Aro loves it when he can bury himself in their mind.

When the day is coming to an end, he takes them to stargaze outside of Volterra, somewhere not that affected by light pollution. They both would look at the stars and hold hands while doing so. Aro would whisper sweet nothings in their ear, possibly slipping into other languages while doing so.

His mate can definitely say that their birthday was amazing, if not the best birthday they ever had.

Emperor Belos:

When it comes to Belos and celebrating birthdays, he actually prefers to not have a grand party for his beloved. He just thinks it would serve no reason and a private dinner or something similar means far more than anything else.

That being said, he is actually... hardly torn away from doing his Emperor duties. He must prepare for the Day of Unity after all. But after enough begging, he decides to humor his partner for a while.

I'm not saying that he didn't get them gifts, because of course he did. Belos is the type of person to hand-craft presents instead of buying them. He just feels it's far more personal that way.

Belos being the old fashioned man that he is, he writes them a heartfelt letter. As heartfelt as Belos can be of course. He would reminescence of their first date and the moment Belos realised he loved them.

Somehow the entire castle found out of their birthday, so the s/o can expect getting birthday wishes from most of the guards. Some (like Lilith, Kikimora and Hunter) even give them presents. Lilith and Kikimora just want to suck up to Belos of course, but Hunter's is more personal. After all, it's his uncle's lover.

As much as Belos denies it, he loves having matching things. So his beloved would get something for their birthday that matches something he owns. Perhaps it's a gadget he uses often, or a piece of clothing that he loves; he would get them something similar.

This day is the ONLY day he would allow them to wear his emperor outfit. Belos would watch them try to imitate him and would laugh along. After the day is over though, he makes sure to tell his s/o that they got their emperor-outfit-wearing priviledges revoked.

Obviously Belos knows everything on the Boiling Isles, which means that he knows all of the secret places that are just absolutely mesmerizing. He might just surprise his beloved with a trip to one of these places.

I believe at night, once the both of them are in bed, Belos would share some of his fond memories. That is probably the most sentimental his s/o had ever seen him. It's sort of a birthday present of sorts I suppose.

Now, if his lover REALLY wanted to have a big party, he might be convinced. He would use that to manipulate the Isles into believing that he is a kind man, but he would also just want to make his beloved happy. Belos is just a tiny bit twisted like that.

Absolutely the type of man who would ask for their s/o's hand in marriage on their birthday. I can just totally see that happen.

Elrond:

Oh Elrond, beautiful Elrond.

Now birthdays are a bit questionable for elves as well since... well, they are immortal. But, whenever Elrond and his beloved would celebrate their birthday, the elven Lord would make sure to make it unforgettable.

Elrond plans the whole day of course (if his s/o agrees into the planning).

First, they would wake up and receive breakfast in bed. Elrond would stay with them the whole time, smiling down at them as they eat. After that he takes them on a walk in the gardens where they would talk for hours.

If someone happens to "accidentally" play some music in the distance, Elrond would ask his lover on a dance. They would talk while doing so and laugh along when they accidentally trip and fall in the grass.

After the walk in the gardens, Elrond takes his s/o back to the main halls and leads them to a room that is decorated just for them. There awaits them Elladan, Elrohir, and Arwen with smiles on their faces. All of them would give Elrond's beloved a gift while the Lord waits patiently.

Elrond's gift wouldn't be too grand but it would be meaningful. Most likely it is something he made with his own hands. Like if his beloved wears jewellery, he would make them something out of their preferred materials. Since courting is taken very seriously for elves, I believe they wouldn't commision anyone for a piece like that like humans would. The elves make important gifts themselves as it's more meaningful that way.

After a joyful lunch with music involved, Elrond brings his s/o outside to celebrate with the rest of Rivendell. It's a very carefree party where the elves play music and dance around with or without the s/o.

Once nighttime comes around, Elrond will get them away from the party and bring them to a clearing where they can watch the stars in peace. The stars are very important in an elf's life, so why not spend the last hours of their birthday looking at them.

Elrond would tell his beloved how much he loves them while in the comfort of the stars. He would also describe their relationship using great many metaphors.

At the end of their birthday, they walk back to the party and dance the night away.

Shadow Weaver:

We all know how Shadow Weaver loves gardening, right? Well, she would obviously put together a lovely bouqet for her s/o. It consits of their favorite flowers, or if they don't have any, flower in their favorite colors.

Shadow Weaver would wake her lover up by gently caressing their face and wishing them happy birthday once they open their eyes. After that she let's them eat breakfast before giving them the bouqet. It has a little note attached to it that is enchanted so it sparks little fireworks once it's opened.

Now, the sorceress is actually not that sure how to act in this situation because, let's be real, she did not partake in many relationships before. So her s/o will have to excuse if she's being a bit awkward.

She would get her beloved a cake, as suggested by Glimmer. It would be their favorite flavor and most likely would have frosting that is their favorite color.

Because Shadow Weaver is not very big on letting her feelings show, she wouldn't really give her s/o a speech about how much she loves them but she would try to write some of her feelings out in a form of a letter.

Once the s/o is ready, she will take them to her garden that is decorated just for them. It's more colorful than usual, but it still stays in the theme of the sorceress' taste.

Shadow Weaver would then lead them to a table that is decorated by candles. They would drink tea or something her beloved likes while talking. While outside, some residents of the castle would walk by to wish them happy birthday, especially Glimmer.

Once they're done with the little tea party, Shadow Weaver takes them out to a clearing in the Whispering Woods. There she reveals a picnic set up just for her s/o. While sitting and eating, Shadow Weaver finally gives them their present. It's something very personal.

The rest of the day consists of Shadow Weaver and her beloved watching the sunset and enjoying their picnic.

Thranduil:

Once again, the elves are a bit different about birthdays but Thranduil sure does throw a big party. Wine for the whole realm and dancing all night.

But before he gets to that, he makes sure that this day is the best day his s/o has ever had.

Thranduil wakes his beloved up by whispering to them and wishing them happy birthday. He let's them have breakfast in bed, while he eats beside them. After the breakfast he gives the plates to a servant while they stay in bed for some more quality time.

When they finally get up, Thranduil takes them on a stroll in the garden. They walk around, simply talking. Once they found a place where they could sit down, Thranduil gives them their first gift. It's a very personal gift that he made himself (much like Elrond).

While his s/o is looking at the gift, Thranduil whispers in their ear in elvish, explaining just how much he loves them. They stay there for some time before heading back to the palace.

Legolas would wish them happy birthday of course. If he likes them enough, he might make them a little carving of sorts and give it to them.

Thranduil showers his beloved in other types of presents as well. If they like wearing jewellery, he would get them something that matches his. Perhaps his s/o would like another sword? Something that fits them perfectly but also just so happens that matches Thranduil's weapon?

Once Thranduil and his lover had finished with the gift giving, he takes them to the dining room where an exquisite lunch/dinner is prepared for them. Some elves are playing music while they eat.

When they finish, they go to celebrate with the rest of the realm. Thranduil opens up the wine barrels for everyone to drink and all of the elves dance around while singing songs.

The Elvenking obviously would ask to dance with his s/o while most likely already drunk. His partner can also expect to hear a speech from him that is adressed to the entire realm. He talkes about how important his beloved is and expects everyone to respect them as such.

If his lover is more anxious, then he swoops them away from the party to dance alone in a more secluded area. After all, he only wants them to feel great on their birthday.

The day most likely ends with the drunk couple entering their chambers and laughing as they fall on their bed. Alternatively, if his lover isn't one to drink, Thranduil still gets pretty drunk and his s/o can deal with a far more affectionate King.

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cuddletime-blog · 3 months

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LBC Valentine's Day Poems (2024)

Valentine’s Day Poem for Alkaid

Love is like breezy, spring bike rides by the ocean.

You make me feel like peaceful days with you

could stretch on and on for the rest of our lives.

Now, I won’t think of spring days

in the same way I once used to.

I just want to fill up my youth

with lovely spring days with you.

I just want to smell the roses

like I never have before

and lie there on the grass daydreaming

or I could gaze up and study the stars in the night sky,

wondering how lucky I am to have met you.

It’s no mystery how I feel about you.

I only know that I love you.

The truth isn’t all that hard to find

when I know that I want to be with you.

Valentine’s Day Poem for Clarence

How do I write the perfect Valentine’s poem

for a serious scholar?

Goodness only knows.

All I know is that you are reliable when it counts.

You are like autumn days,

everchanging and mild.

Warm and cold,

the in-between of changing seasons

You are like winter days,

cold but calm like the pure snow

gently falling.

Even the river leads to somewhere calmer.

I hope you find your waterfall

and can let yourself go where your heart belongs.

I know you’ll reach for your dreams,

but I hope you’ll get everything your heart wishes for.

I hope you can be true to yourself.

It’s fine to have flaws too.

Even a mountain has its rugged edges,

but the view from the top may the most beautiful scenery.

I hope you remember that I’ll be there for you when you need me

and I’ll still be by your side on any journey.

Valentine’s Day Poem for Ayn

You are like a box of chocolates,

a surprise each time.

You are like all the songs on a CD.

No song is the same,

but each one is a treasure.

I hope you’ll enjoy the little things

and just live the way you want to

regardless of what anyone else thinks.

Life can be any adventure you choose

and our story is just the beginning.

No chapter is the same.

So I’ll take your hand and you can take the lead.

Lead the way and I’m confident we’ll still

someday reach our destination.

We’ll encourage each other

and bring out the best in one another.

Valentine’s Day Poem for Lars

No words might be enough to

describe exactly what you are to me,

but I like imperfect things just as much too.

You are honest with me.

I like how you really know

how to seize life and how you take the time

to show me the good things in life

so I don’t miss out on anything even though

I’m taking my time catching up to you.

You’re matching your pace with mine

and gradually, before I even notice,

we’re just walking side by side.

I have confidence in you being able to

do anything your heart sets on to do.

I like both the confident business leader Lars

and the silly, jokester child-at-heart Lars.

Whoever and whatever you are,

I can’t thank you enough for just being yourself.

You make ordinary days seem amazing

no matter what we’re doing.

You’re like the sun of my universe

and I hope you’ll have all the best in the world and more.

I hope we can see more of the world,

seize the best in each day,

and find the best of what life has to offer together.

Valentine’s Day Poem for Cael

No masterpiece is simply a masterpiece

Just because it was one in the first place.

Each piece has its merits and its admirer.

Beauty is in the eye of the beholder.

I want to see past your walls,

to see the whole picture and not just the pieces.

I’ll climb the walls if you just let me.

I want to show you that the world

is much bigger, wider, and better than we ever knew.

You are only seeing things from a certain perspective.

Perhaps you are missing some of the details.

You are not alone

because I hope you remember that you have me too.

I’ll still be here when you’re ready to talk again.

I’ll listen to your whole story

so all you need to do is to be ready to show me

what we really mean to one another.

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rabbitenn · 5 months

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MATCHUP FOR @bubonicbambi

Hello, hun ! Thank you so much for all the information you sent, it was super detailed and really helped me determine your match. I really hope this is to your liking <3

As I was reading your ask, three potential boys crossed my mind, however, your preference in partner made me gravitate towards the two you’ll find as you keep reading…

Your idolish7 matchup is definitely good at carrying a conversation. Don’t be fooled by his cheerful exterior, he is more than capable of engaging in deeper topics. You will find very people who care more about their loved ones than he does, to the point of taking the brunt and facing consequences in order to protect his friends. His smile is definitely one hard to forget, and his drive when it comes to his passion is practically unrivaled. If you are sappy, he is sappier, endearment and affection present in everything he does.

Well, can you guess who is going to gift you a bouquet of vibrant roses tonight, dear? Come along, the MC for today’s show is already on standby…

♡ SUNOHARA MOMOSE

Honestly, the more I read the information you sent, the more Momo and you together made sense to me.

You say you are clingy at times, liking to express your love and affection for your friends and loved ones, and making sure they know how appreciated they are. Well, Momo is pretty much the same way, and absolutely adores when you are affectionate with him, be it physically or verbally.

You are intuitive, a quality Momo shares too. However, where you’re more on the quiet and observant side, he is more proactive, his bubbly personality making it seem like his decisions come off a tad impulsive, landing him in situations of danger. So you two would create a nice balance in this aspect, all things considered.

You and Momo would be literally that couple trope of: talks a lot (Momo) and listens (you). There is something so endearing in the fuchsia galaxies of his starry gaze when he rambles on about the new song he’s writing lyrics for.

And because you like writing poetry, your boyfriend knows he can rely on you for advice on the lyrics he comes up with.

Moments like these feel rose colored to Re: vale’s idol; warm, like the shades you render on canvas.

He wonders now, what new masterpiece are you working on? A new poem? Or perhaps a story told in brushstrokes?

—

A sweet melody and the scent of rose tea greet Momo as he awakes.

Peachy hues filter in through the cream curtains of your bedroom, beams of sunrise dancing over the white silken sheets.

When he stretches, he finds the space beside him empty, the creases on the soft fabric still roused with your lingering warmth.

A knowing smile tugs at his lips. He knows he only has to follow the scent of floral tea to find your whereabouts.

With a soft yawn, your lover leaves the room, a gentle hummed symphony creating a rainbow bridge from him to you.

When he reaches the kitchen, it looks to him like the sun has fully risen.

There, sitting at the table, your favorite red mug in hand, you are.

One of your hands idly writes something on a light blue piece of paper, a sparkly pink pen (his color) leaving a trace of neat cursive in its wake.

You take a sip from the steaming liquid, your heartwarming song interrupted in the process and as soon as you catch sight of your boyfriend.

Heat rises to your cheeks as you clear your throat, your voice honey-like when you utter:

“Good morning, Momo.” Lips tilt up in a shy smile, as his mirror the gesture, the brightness of his smile, the truest dawn to you.

“Morning, my darling.” He tells you, as he hugs you from behind, taking a look at the words you have scribbled.

A new set of verses, he observes, his grin widening even more.

Burying his face in the crook of your neck, the idol asks:

“Why did you stop singing, my lovely?” He leaves a trail of soft kisses on the side of your neck, making his way to your jawline, cheek, and the corner of your lips.

“Momo…” You whine, looking down, the temperature on your face rising.

You always got so shy when he caught you humming or singing some tune.

How could you not? He’s literally a top idol.

“You have a very pretty voice…” He tells you, nuzzling his nose against your neck, his hands finding yours as he has you hugged from behind. “I love it when you sing.”

You let out a sigh.

He really does know how to compliment you, huh?

“Well, thank you.” You softly say, turning your face around a little to leave a fleeting peck to his lips.

“Sing for me?” He asks of you, those eyes tinted in hibiscus petals, wide, almost like a puppy’s as he looks up at you.

How can you say no to that face?

You take a deep breath, closing your eyes.

Then, a delicate melody threaded in the sweetness of rose gardens and herbal tea fills the space.

It embraces you two, a swing in the middle of an idyllic cottage, the grass scented breeze akin to a comforting linen blanket wrapped around you.

Instants like this… Momo wishes time would stop, relishing in this ideal dream you make come true with the notes you sing.

—

Getting annoyed when someone is mean or mistreats those you love is a trait you and Momo share. It is seen on several occasions how he goes above and beyond for his friends, so he’d be able to understand your feelings in that regard.

He also finds it so cute how you’re naturally gentle, warm and sweet; and yet are intrigued by gothic and darker topics. In a way, he mirrors that tendency, since he listens to emo rock, and, in contrast, he’s just about the cutest and most cheerful guy you can meet.

Momo would also be curious about the different aesthetics you like. He’d wonder if he and Yuki can include them in the outfits they wear on stage, and would let you try some on him.

He is someone who can also relate to the identity issues you mention. Nearing the five year anniversary of Re: vale, Momo felt like he was just a replacement, and the thought that he is still somehow dead weight to Yuki haunts him at times. So he really knows what it’s like, to be lost, to be scared of not meeting expectations, to wonder who you are and where you are going.

Talking about mbti now, while it is true infp (your type) and esfp (Momo’s mbti) have differences when it comes to discord on the socialization sphere, both types have in common the need for deep and emotional bonds. That is the key to your relationship.

Additionally, his more extroverted personality can help you get out of your shell, which is what you mention you’d like to do by having deep conversations.

Onto zodiac signs now, both virgo (your sign) and scorpio (Momo’s) value loyalty and deep respect for the other. That makes for a very solid match. Virgo is detailed oriented and perfectionist, while scorpio prioritizes passion, resulting in a very well balanced couple. Plus, both signs are intellectually driven, which brings us again to the topic of you two having interesting conversations over small talk.

You tell me you are fond of terms of endearment and affection in the form of words of affirmation, physical touch and quality time. Well, it just so happens those align almost perfectly with Momo’s love languages. From expressing how wonderful you are, to spontaneous hugs and kisses, to just spending time singing together, or him listening to music while you draw, nestled in between his legs, as his chin rests on your shoulder.

Momo can be pretty romantic too. He is very observant and quick to pick up on others’ feelings and preferences. He’d love surprising you with the most dreamy dates imaginable, because he’d be damned if he didn’t give you only the best.

♡ RUNNER UP: IZUMI MITSUKI

Mitsuki is another one I think would make a really cute couple with you.

Like Momo, he is amazing at carrying conversations, being able to get you to talk more about what makes you happy.

He is definitely hard working and takes his job very seriously. Thus, he would be able to inspire you to shine as bright as the sunshine he very much resembles.

Mitsu is literally the embodiment of “bright smile and youthful heart”. Being next to him has the power to energize anyone, leaving you with a sense of positivity and the feeling that there’s nothing you cannot do.

He would also reassure you about your singing and would think it’s so cool you play instruments too.

The eldest Izumi brother has felt insecure himself about his worth as an idol, so he would understand what you went through during your identity crisis.

With tender cuddles and heartfelt words, his warmth wraps around you, the world outside and all your worries melting away.

Like you, Mitsuki likes cooking and is good at it! Don’t worry if baking is not your strong suit; his family literally runs a bakery, so he’ll teach you how to make the tastiest pastries in no time!

#idolish7 #idolish7 x reader #idolish7 imagines #i7 #ainana #ainana x reader #idolish7 hadcanons #idolish7 scenarios #idolish7 fluff #idolish7 matchups #sunohara momose #izumi mitsuki #sunohara momose x reader #izumi mitsuki x reader

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pvffinsdaisies · 1 year

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any norway headcanons?

Absolutely 👀 I love an excuse to talk about this boy~

Norway is one of the biggest nature lovers you could ever meet- and who wouldn’t be when they’re lucky enough to represent a country as stunning as Norway?- he’s always outside hiking, fishing, skiing, or sometimes just sitting on a park bench admiring the scenery.

Speaking of fish, (he stinks of it) I headcanon that fish is the only thing he can cook semi-decently? Everything else he’s completely hopeless

He has many ikea bags, and different ones are assigned to different sports he partakes in. Hiking equipment in one, skiing equipment in another, etc.

99% of his wardrobe is made up of different marius gensers, most of which he has probably knit himself. He also always makes sure he has a matching marius lue.

He is a beautiful storyteller who’s skills lay mostly in writing folktales, songs and poems.

He used to own a boat! But work required him to be at least close to the capital, and he had to sell his boat to afford a place in oslo.

He’s a bit… mad? One of his greatest desires is to be out in the middle of the sea whilst a storm hits and he has to quite literally fight for his life and use all the strength he can muster. Like the good old days. Nor describes it as a need to “challenge nature” that stayed with him from the viking age. Perhaps it’s a good thing he doesn’t have that boat anymore.

Despite that last one, deep down he just wants a simple and calm life. He just wants to be able to knit, fish, ski and skate on frozen lakes forever.

You know how some people have furniture porn files? Nor has something similar to that! It’s just a bunch of pictures of maps but Denmark and/or Sweden have been edited or missed out of.

My personal portrayal of nor has a more feminine appearance, however! He also can grow facial hair incredibly fast, he has to constantly shave or else he will have a beard within the space of like two weeks

You know how nations sometimes have like animals that stick around and stay immortal with them? Norway has one of them! It’s a little grey bunny- who’s kinda the bunny version of Nor himself?- he’s old and grumpy and doesn’t like people. He only likes Nor, and that’s probably only bc Nor feeds him.

He’s a cheeky little piece of shit who will find a way to cheat at every game he plays. Honestly he’s probably done it right in front of everyone’s face before but when called out he firmly denies it and he will keep denying it until they admit defeat and let him get away with it or he’s banned from playing. In case of the latter, he will sit grumpily in the corner being pissy, making sarcastic comments.

#hetalia #aph nordics #aph norway #headcanons

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writingisartdarling · 10 months

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I am not surprised, but I am slightly disappointed in myself. For, I had planned on writing one prompt every day and I have not even nearly managed to do that. However, now I felt like writing just like these random pieces so I tackled on three individual prompts. And as always, these prompts are from 365 Creative Writing Prompts - ThinkWritten . You can find my takes on the three prompts right under the cut.

Dancing: Who’s dancing and why are they tapping those toes?

Dancing has always been what I love, one of my passions. My only passion really. Whether it is in a dancing studio or a stage or in my kitchen late at night, it doesn’t matter. The way my toes tap against the floor when I twirl around the room makes all of those bad thoughts go away. All of my many bad thoughts. Some would say I am torturing myself by making dancing my whole life, they say it’s not healthy for me. But I don’t agree. I would not be standing here today, if I wasn’t devoting my life to those twirls and those taps of my feet. Nonetheless, they call me the depressed dancer. Quite the right usage of words, even if you ask me.

Food: What’s for breakfast? Dinner? Lunch? Or maybe you could write a poem about that time you met a friend at a cafe.

“For breakfast I would like dinner, perhaps pizza. Pizza has always been my favorite. I’d have a soda with it, a coke preferably. And then for lunch I’d like pancakes. My mother never let me have pancakes other than on the weekends. And it is now Tuesday after all and I don’t need to obey my mother anymore,” I voiced my thoughts before stopping when thoughts of my mother completely invaded my emptying mind. “And for dinner, miss?” the older man standing in the doorway hurried me on - his foot was tapping against the stone cold floor. “Just ice cream,” I whispered and the man turned away and another closed the cell door. I had just described my last three meals before I’d be hanged for murdering my own mother. Hopefully I would manage to annoy her one last time with my choice of meals. You see, she didn’t approve of too much sugars.

Eye Contact: Write about two people seeing each other for the first time.

When I looked into your eyes for the first time, I knew I had found my match. My better half. You looked so beautiful with your eyes smiling just as brightly as the rest of your face did. You were glowing, almost, and anyone beside you looked as if they were jealous of your happiness. I couldn’t take my eyes off you and it worried me you would think I’m a creep for staring too long. But in the end, I sat down near you and looked at you for so long I forgot how long. And now, two years later I am still thinking about you.

The first time I looked into your eyes was an accident. Staring at someone’s eyes has always stressed me out and I prefer to avoid it. But that day, I wasn’t able to look away as your gaze pierced mine. I could feel your eyes on me as if you were just inches away from my face, your eyelashes almost gently touching mine. When I looked up I was met with your hungry eyes and my bright smile from before faded away. Though, had you realized that, you would have looked away. Only it seemed your gaze only got more and more interested in me as it roamed around my face. I felt like it was hard to breath and I sat down on the closest bench I could find, panic tugging at my heartstrings. Now, even two years later I am still haunted by your gaze.

P.S. Do not repost as your own, though, reblogs are appreciated! Thanks!

#writing #writing prompts #365 days of writing prompts #writer life #live my life with me

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xtruss · 10 months

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There Was an Underground Magazine for Transgender Women in the 1960s! Transvestia's Archives Provide a Window onto a Hidden World

— June 22, 2023 | Kirstin Butler | Casa Susanna | Article | American Experience

The cover of the August 1966 issue of Transvestia magazine.

In the first month of a new decade, a Los Angeles chemist named Virginia Prince mailed out the inaugural issue of a magazine. It was, as the title page of the January 1960 edition of Transvestia states, a privately printed journal “with three objectives: to provide EXPRESSION for those interested in the subjects of exotic and unusual dress and fashion; to provide INFORMATION to those who, through ignorance, condemn that which they do not understand,” and, finally, “to provide EDUCATION for those who see evil where none exists.” With these oblique statements, Prince launched what would become the first long-running periodical for male-to-female crossdressers and transgender women in the United States.

Over its 25-year print run, Transvestia grew from 25 initial subscribers to several hundred distributed across the U.S. Most readers received their bi-monthly issues through the mail, though after 1963 the magazine could also be found in alternative and adult bookstores and newsstands in major American cities. Prince was the magazine’s driving force and served as editor until 1979, but Transvestia’s contents were as much by its readers as for them. Subscribers submitted life histories, letters, editorials, book reviews and photographs of themselves. They had their own jargon: “TV” for transvestite, “GG” for “genetic girls,” “brother” for their male identities and the “girl-within,” to refer to their feminine selves; some readers also used “femmepersonator” or “FP” for short. Prince also reprinted medical papers on topics such as gender identity and the psychology of cross-dressing.

Each issue typically ran around 80 pages, with several dedicated to advertisements for various goods—self-published books, custom undergarments and wigs—and services such as electrolysis and makeup consultation. “Perhaps there are no good stores in your town. Perhaps you are too well known,” offered one advertisement for a personal shopper. “Perhaps you need an unusual size and would be embarrassed to ask for it. Whatever the reason, I can help.” Every issue also contained a “Person to Person” section where subscribers could connect with one another. “Lifelong TV, married, 34, scientist, welcomes all correspondence with all TV’s foreign or domestic,” reads a listing by Barbara, a reader from southern New England, in the December 1965 issue.

An optician’s ad in Transvestia’s October 1969 Issue.

Transvestia was an outlet for creative writing as well. A piece of fiction in the magazine’s first issue told the story of a married couple enjoying a night out, both husband and wife dressed in traditionally feminine attire: “The sound of my high heels matching hers, the sight of my frock swirling beside hers, made us feel as one…sensing the fragrance of the real woman so close to me, the distinction between ‘man’ and ‘woman’ vanished like smoke in a high wind.” Prince herself contributed a poem to that issue, composing on a theme that would recur in many other editions of the magazine—the relief experienced upon transforming from masculine to feminine archetypal expectations and presentation.

Poems in the January 1960 and March 1961 issues of Transvestia.

In fact, several subjects appeared with a great deal of regularity throughout Transvestia’s pages. Dr. R.S. Hill, a professor at Concordia University, authored a seminal study of the magazine as his dissertation. Reflecting on Transvestia’s most oft-recurring content, Dr. Hill wrote, “The letters and histories endlessly elaborated on the same themes and topics: theorizing the causes of their condition; crossdressing for the first time; overcoming obstacles to free expression; dealing with guilt, fear, or loneliness; disclosing to or hiding from parents, wives, and children; venturing out in public; passing successfully as women without public detection; describing articles of clothing, wardrobes, and bodily measurements; and sharing fashion and make-up advice.”

Through the magazine, Transvestia readers forged a group consciousness, united not just by mutual interests but also for their common demography: The majority of subscribers were white, middle-to-professional-class, and considered themselves heterosexual. Most were married and had children. Some spoke of cross-dressing as just a relaxing “hobby” they occasionally enjoyed. But a substantial number would come to identify as women over the course of the journal’s publication, including Prince herself as well as contributing editor Susanna Valenti. Prince wrote about that decision in her final issue as editor in 1979, saying, “I figured that since I had learned pretty much all I needed to know about being a man in this world, that I might just as well devote the rest of my life to exploring the other side of my own humanity…That was in June of 1968 and I have lived as Virginia ever since.”

All of the magazine’s readers agreed that the practice of cross-dressing allowed them to access their most vibrant selves. “I have been married, have fathered five children, and am about to become a Grandpa any day now,” said the magazine’s 1962 covergirl Eileen in an accompanying personal history. “The men I work with are all hairy chested so-and-so types, and have accepted me into their ranks without question. Yet, when I rush home from the office and enter my own world of delight, that is when I truly live.”

Transvestia subscriber Eileen graced the cover of the magazine's August 1962 Issue.

The Publisher

Having been through a great deal of pain, fear, guilt, loneliness and frustration in my life I wanted to help others to avoid or conquer these feelings. My tool for doing this has been Transvestia.” — Virginia Prince, Transvestia, Vol. 3 No. 16, August 1962

Born in 1912, Virginia Prince was the highly opinionated, often irascible godmother of Transvestia’s print pages and its extended real-life network. After launching the magazine, she also founded a national sorority for other crossdressers in 1962 called Phi Pi Epsilon—or FPE, which also stood for Full Personality Expression. This later became Tri-Ess, or the Society for the Second Self, an international crossdressing organization that still exists to this day. Prince frequently gave interviews to American and international media and liaised with medical professionals about the practice of cross-dressing.

The magazine’s “Person to Person” section was restricted to FPE sorority members to ensure correspondents’ safety.

Prince’s primary goal was to destigmatize cross-dressing; and she utilized the magazine as well as FPE to create a conservative bulwark against other, competing forms of transgender life and community in the United States in the 1960s. “Prince wanted to socialize individual ‘deviance,’” said Dr. Hill, “to place transvestism within a group context, domesticate it, and normalize it by promoting the radical idea that transvestites were not immoral, sexual deviants but rather normal, respectable citizens with only a harmless gender variation.” Even the name of Prince’s regular column in the magazine, “Virgin Views,” was part of her plan to de-eroticize a lifestyle that included cross-dressing by linking it to connotations of purity.

Already within a year of Transvestia’s genesis, Prince had assumed the role of self-appointed moral arbiter. “We must keep our own house clean and above reproach,” she asserted in the magazine’s March 1961 issue. In a repressive Cold War context where heteronormative standards reigned, that meant distancing cross-dressing from other gender and sexual subcultures: “We all know that the world confuses transvestism and homosexuality and when there is a campaign against the latter we are caught in the crossfire.” Prince asked readers to police themselves and each other, saying, “you come into the future of the magazine, not just by way of financial support and contributions of material, but by being a watchdog too.”

Prince’s column in the December 1965 issue included her portrait.

As part of her desire to domesticate transvestism, Prince also sought out and published writings by transvestites’ female partners. Some were tender—thus supporting Prince’s respectability campaign—as in an account from a wife about her husband’s transformation to “Betty Lynn, the Blonde Bombshell.” “I can’t understand why anyone wouldn’t want another dimension to their love,” wrote Fran. Still, the majority of Transvestia readers spoke of fraught negotiations around their cross-dressing, sometimes ending in the dissolution of marriage.

The narrative Prince espoused through Transvestia initially held that the goal of transvestism should be an exercised balance of masculine and feminine identities, with each having its own separate opportunity for expression. “[T]ry to employ perspective in seeing FemmePersonation as an adjunct to your masculine personality, not a substitute for it,” she suggested in her August 1962 “Virgin Views” column. “Transvestia does not exist for the purpose of impairing or destroying the masculine but rather to allow those who are aware of their feminine side to extract the full benefits from it. We can experience some of the feminine side of life, express part of our personality that way, and be better persons and citizens for it IF we…keep the whole matter in balance and under control.”

She advised against medical interventions such as hormone therapy and what was then known as sex reassignment surgery, saying, in 1965, “I realized that surgery would be a form of suicide not only for my masculine self but for Virginia too since it would cut the ground (as well as other things) out from under her…being a woman some of the time is wonderful, having to be one all the time would not be half as great as it seems to be from a distance.” As Dr. Hill writes, “‘transsexuality’ is everywhere in Transvestia as a category against which the ‘true transvestites’ defined themselves.”

Transvestia’s October 1962 cover featured photos of its first two years of cover models—“The composite cover of 12 livin’ dolls.” Prince’s is the largest photo in the center.

Over the coming years, however, Prince’s position would shift from this earlier dichotomous gender model to an identity where one’s masculine and feminine selves were merged into an integrated whole. “[V]ery little in life is tied up hard and fast with the fact that one is male or female,” she wrote in the August 1966 issue, adding “that the ideas of man and woman and masculine and feminine are cultural inventions for all their assumed usefulness.” Her views on gender had gradually become more flexible.

By June 1968, Prince had come to a decision to live full-time as a woman. Assembling the magazine, she said later, was what had allowed her to arrive at that turning point. “In trying to help you, my readers, I have learned and grown myself,” she wrote in the magazine’s 100th anniversary issue in 1979, which was largely dedicated to “The Life and Times of Virginia,” her personal history. “I am now a whole person, completely self accepting and at ease…[M]y best hopes and good wishes to all of you—may you, too, find the acceptance and the internal peace that we all need, and with that I say farewell.”

Susanna Says

But enough of philosophising…let's gossip!” — “Susanna Says,” Transvestia, Vol. 7 No. 40, August 1966

Where Virginia Prince was Transvestia’s reigning West Coast intellectual, Susanna Valenti, the magazine’s contributing editor, was its East Coast bon vivant. Her regular column, “Susanna Says,” contained social news, fashion tips and advice, all served up with attitude and pointed humor. “I most certainly have particular people in mind whenever I unsheath a journalistic claw,” she wrote in February 1963, in response to what some readers deemed her “cattish remarks.” “Where would the fun be,” she protested, “if people could not see themselves mirrored in the printed page?”

For Valenti, criticism also had a noble purpose. She offered cosmetic and comportment tips—informing her readers about the right ways to walk, how to soften their voices and what pressed powders to wear—because those elements would allow them to more safely present to a world threatening arrest and violence. “Sorry, my friends, to sound so mean,” she demurred in that same column. “[S]omebody has to pour out a bucketful of cold, merciless realism, just to remind ourselves that the world is not entirely made of pretty clouds and blue skies. There’s also mud and hard pavement under our feet.” If being “read”—common community parlance for being discovered while dressed—was the greatest danger, and “passing”successfully as female would ensure their protection, then Valenti would scold Transvestia subscribers into shape.

Virginia included this image of herself and Susanna in Tranvestia’s 100th anniversary Issue.

“[P]resent as smooth an image as possible,” “Susanna Says” advised in 1965. “In some areas there's nothing we can do about—height, skeletal frame, feet, hands, muscles, etc—but in those areas where something can be done, there's just no excuse if we don't at least make an effort.” Valenti spoke at length about her own efforts: wardrobe alterations, dance classes and diets. For her, moral improvement could be achieved by means of aesthetic perfection—and why not enjoy oneself doing it? “The real fun about being a TV,” she proclaimed, “is in the CONSTANT IMPROVING.”

The April 1965 issue continued a feature that spanned several editions called “What Should I Wear?” and contained tutorials on wardrobe color, shape and style, including guides to neckline types and hem lengths.

Like Prince, Valenti had a significant community presence both on and off the page. In the very first issue of Transvestia, she announced that she and her wife Marie were opening a private retreat at their property in the Catskill Mountains catering specifically to Transvestia’s audience; the “Chevalier d’Eon Resort” was named after an 18th-century French crossdressing spy. “Change clothes as many times as you want, stay inside or go out—in short, do as you please and ‘LIVE.’ Even hairdressing help will be available,” promised the announcement. “What more can you ask? This sounds more like fiction than a lot of fiction, but it's real!” Indeed, over the next decade, Marie and Susanna would run what eventually became the eponymous “Casa Susanna,” which became the East Coast hub for crossdressers and a burgeoning transgender community.

Valenti, who had adopted Prince’s script against transitioning, also came to change her position with the changing times. She announced her own decision to live full-time as a woman in Tranvestia’s October 1969 issue. “I’ve ceased feeling that fabulous thrill of the change itself,” Valenti said of her part-time transitions back and forth from Susanna to her male identity. “It’s only fabulous in one direction: from HIM to HER. But the reverse from HER to HIM, is becoming more and more painful. It actually depresses me… To be ‘her’ is quite different. Energy seems to flow into me from all directions, and no matter what activity I engage in, I never seem to tire…I cannot speak of thrills, but of a peace and contentment that I find nowhere else.”

Susanna Valenti announced a momentous personal decision in her column for the October 1969 Issue.

Still, her final words in the magazine were more equivocal. A decade later, in 1979, Valenti reprised her column once more at Prince’s request for the centennial issue. “One hundred years! Or is it one hundred issues of TVia?” Valenti mused. “It really seems like a century ago we started groping in the confusion of our lives for a truth and a self-definition. We followed the same pattern that modern youth seems to have found, the eternal question of ‘who am I’?” Then she took stock of the gains Transvestia had won for her community, saying, “We seem to have moved forward to a certain extent. A good number of people, many more than there were one hundred issues ago, know about us. The moral ‘liberation’ of our times seems to have helped somewhat, too.

“But,” she concluded, “we ask ourselves, have we really become liberated? Have we really become understood? Accepted?”

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moonlatias · 1 year

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Icons of the God and Goddess

I was tidying up my altar last night, both for the full moon ritual I was going to do, and also to decorate it for Yule. As I usually do, I take everything off, dust all the items, lint roll all the persistent cat hair, and place all the items back one at a time. I do so in a kind of devotional ritual, with love and care especially given to my deity statues.

My statues of the God and Goddess were selected after a lot of browsing around and careful consideration. It wasn't just that I wanted items within my budget; it was also that I wanted the statues I selected to convey what my deities felt like to me, and represented what they represent to me. Not for others, of course... but for me. So when I look upon them, I am comforted, and reminded of all that the God and Goddess mean to me.

(Perhaps a carry-over from my Catholic background... despite Christianity being against idolatry, Catholicism is very much fond of revering religious images, and so I grew up admiring beautiful statues of Jesus, Mary, and many of the saints. The explanation being that you're worshiping who/what the statue or image depicts, not the statue itself.)

The Goddess statue I chose was the Enchanted Song Mermaid by Veronese Design. I specifically chose to get it in a bronze finish rather than the colored, painted version, because I wanted her to be beyond any specific features. Maybe I see her as dark-skinned one day, or blond the next day. She is everything, and anything. I selected a mermaid (and not a particular goddess) because my initial forays into my pagan studies had the goddess appear to me as a Mother Ocean, guiding me through the archetype of mermaid, but also showing me the inter-connectivity of nature and the world through the waters of the ocean. This particular gnosis means a lot to me, and to this day, the primary aspect of my Goddess is simply the "Mother of Tides." (I've even asked if she wishes me to address her as a particular water goddess, and every time she responds strongly in the negative. I think she knows best!)

The God statue took much much longer for me to select. I wanted something in bronze to match my beautiful Goddess statue (because I'm particular like that), and I also wanted him to match her in scale. Ultimately that had me browsing the Veronese Design statues again, but their Horned God statues--figures like Cernunnos and Herne--just... weren't quite what I was looking for. I also did not want them to have a specific name on the statue either.

Eventually, Google searching led me to a very particular statue by Veronese Design, based on a piece of art by Ruth Thompson: The Druid. When I saw this statue in bronze finish, I knew he was the depiction of the Horned God I wanted. Putting him alongside my Goddess statue was simply perfect... though I did have to buy a small riser for the Goddess to sit on, so she wasn't significantly lower than the God. They are equals, after all!

When I tidy my altar and place my altar cloths back on it, the next thing I do is always to place the God and Goddess statues on it. I dust them off, hold them gently, and read to them a devotional poem. To the Goddess statue, I read Doreen Valiente's Charge of the Goddess, which has, from the beginning of my path, truly been inspiring for me.

To the God statue, however...

I was surprised to find, when I first received the statue, that there was a poem written on the back. First in runic (disclaimer: I have no idea how accurate the writing actually is), and then in English. It is actually the text of Walt Whitman's To the Garden, The World:

To the garden, the world, anew ascending,

Potent mates, daughters, sons, preluding,

The love, the life of their bodies, meaning and being,

Curious, here behold my resurrection, after slumber;

The revolving cycles, in their wide sweep, having brought me again,

Amorous, mature—all beautiful to me—all wondrous;

My limbs, and the quivering fire that ever plays through them, for reasons, most wondrous;

Existing, I peer and penetrate still,

Content with the present—content with the past,

By my side, or back of me, Eve following,

Or in front, and I following her just the same.

Last night, I read both poems to my statues as I usually do, before giving their heads a kiss and placing them back on my altar. But for some reason, gazing at them made me much more emotional than usual. I kissed their heads, stroked their bronze hair, and hugged them gently while on the brink of tears. I think I miss having a mother and father... and they have come into my lives and become that for me and so much more.

I love them. They have guided me to being such a better person, and there is still so much yet to learn with them.

#wicca #eclectic wicca #paganism #god #goddess #deity worship #sacred texts #upg #book of shadows #personal

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queenoftheboard · 1 year

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' you're ... you're interested ? '

♕ Bandersnatch starters . accepting

Intelligence came in many forms - Eirene knew she was blessed with the logical mind, critical thinking and the ability to correctly anticipate and predict the moves of her opponents (and enemies). It had been precisely the skill that saved her life, too - by preventing panic from taking over, the young girl sent to death by her own father had managed to survive.

And perhaps that had made the Sinner arrogant; Eirene deemed intelligence superior to brute force; logic better than emotions. There was no fighting the hard evidence of scientific laws and the greed of human nature - feelings, on the other hand... These were complicated, hard to read and posed too many variables.

For that preference of hers, many had called Eirene soulless, a machine, a money-hungry tool with no regard for the subtleties of mankind. But in truth, it wasn't as if she failed to understand that there was an appeal to let go; to willingly surrender to emotions and to be controlled by them instead of another impulse or vice.

Eirene Campbell was just not good at dealing with emotions and any form of expression associated to them - creativity, for her, was kept to the corporate charts, takeover processes and stock market strategies. Making music, creating paintings, performing at a stage or writing poetry... Those were all skills that she lacked, and would probably never acquire. No matter how hard she trained - her mind was wired for the black and white of a chess board with clear rules rather than the rhythm of a ballad.

But it didn't stop her from admiring certain things - particularly now, while detained and setting the pieces of her latest plan in motion, there was time and room for one to dedicate to hobbies. And while she wouldn't necessarily say that she enjoyed reading poems as much as a good chess match against a worthy player, Eirene didn't dislike it.

And even after all these years... She still recognized his style.

It had been a surprise to see Genesis locked up with her; particularly because the man had changed so much since their youth. Something had clearly happened to him - his eyes told a different story, and their encounters in the Syndicate and DisCity before both ended up behind bars (albeit for different reasons) were testament to that. They had once been... Friendly. Acquaintances, maybe, frequenting the same places and sharing stimulating conversation in relation to their hobbies and passions.

Later, the woman had been nothing but a job; one that was never fulfilled, but a sight that returned some memories to Genesis. Now, at the MBCC, there was not a trace of the hostility the poet exhibited outside - whatever were his orders, they clearly didn't matter anymore. Paper, pen and inspiration clearly occupied most of his time, and Eirene found herself reading his latest pieces, forgotten at a desk at one of their common rooms.

Picking it up, the CEO of the Quinn Group walked over to his cell - and after politely knocking on the open door to announce herself, Eirene handed him the papers with a small, knowing smile and a compliment - mania could have done much to him, but it hadn't robbed Genesis of his talent. Even a cold, logical soul like hers could appreciate the choice of style and the cadence of the rhythm.

That, apparently, surprised the man.

"You're... You're interested?" came the question, his gaze attesting to his stunned state of mind, "You're interested in poetry? My poetry?"

"I'm interested in great minds," Eirene replied easily enough, still standing by the door to his cell and looking every bit as regal as she had been at her own office, directing a multimillionaire empire that had fingers in all of DisCity's pies, and yet discussed such a menial thing like draft poems with a fellow inmate under MBCC's custody, "Yours is still a particularly interesting one, Genesis. It was what drew me before, it is what brings me here still," she tossed her hair over a shoulder, motioning towards the returned papers, "There's talent there. I have availability on my agenda these days, my empire runs itself - if you want a second pair of eyes, you can just drop by my cell."

#♔ answered . this is my move #tanjodos #v: checkmate (or is it)#here it is!#I've been meaning to write this for a while now #I hope it's in line with your Genesis post-detainment?

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justanechoflower-ddlc · 6 months

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(To clarify:When Monika said Flowey got every poem wrong, she’s talking about the first guess, before Flowey considered the possibility of Yuri writing two poems. Ghost Under the Light is a Yuri poem, as Flowey was right to suspect only Yuri could have made that. That is, if it wasn’t Shining Stars Flowey decided to redirect to Yuri… Amy Likes Spiders, the poem Flowey never guessed was Yuri’s, was a Natsuki poem, not a Yuri poem.)

(Perhaps Monika’s comment on “nobody can know who made what without reading the poems” was confusing? That was just a literal statement. She’s “reading” the poems because she “has” to. Unless you made the poem, it shouldn’t be possible to just know who made what without even looking at the poems. And since these are all in Sayori’s handwriting, that trick doesn’t work anymore. So it’s less “read the poems and don’t try and find another way” and more “Look, I can’t just make my guesses on whi made which poems without even reading the poems! Nobody could do THAT except for the people that WROTE the poems!“ Once she’s done reading, she’ll make her “guesses”. She does have to actually read at least Sayori’s poem, since she’ll need to come up with fake reasons behind why she picks that one as Sayori’s. None of this was an actual attempt to stop Flowey from copying Monika‘s guesses. She actually didn’t think of that possibility because she was too busy coming up with reasons why she’d have an unfair advantage. Moving onto Flowey was just for reasons why certain solutions clearly don’t really solve the problem, so uh oh, looks like she still can’t join in!)

(I will say if she did bring that up as an issue for both of them guessing, saying now one of them HAS to not take part, because the other can just copy, Natsuki would probably give them blank pieces of paper to write their guesses on, and after a set time, ask them to put their pens down, and explain the guesses they made. That way, when they’re said aloud and explained, the other one can’t just change their guesses to match. Though from the deal Flowey made, Monika would probably just use the console to tell him the right ones that way to fulfill the deal.)

#submission #thanks for the clarification #Also sorry it's been taking awhile to get to your submissions recently #Ill try to be better about it

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pretentious-fruity-and-me · 1 year

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I think that sometimes we often start projects which we have no intention of finishing, or perhaps at least not right away. For example, there are many poetry instalments in both a physical journal I have and the notes app on my phone of which are not completed. However, I feel as though sometimes these unfinished thoughts are better left as they are in their original state, holding with them the original intentions of what I had been feeling at the time. Enclosed I will post a snippet of what could have been a great poem, but in my current view fails in what I like to write. However, I will only look at this piece through the lens of the past. Perhaps at one point this was on its way to becoming my favourite poem, but now it simply sits unfinished.

Romance is dead. Nothing more and nothing less. Shallow hearts lost to vanity, or hearts so full they’re near to bursting. We all have our flaws in love, the things we wish we could change. Be it who we are, how we are, or who we wish we were for someone else. Only perfectly measured hearts match, leaving everyone else to be teaspoons and tablespoons, desperately trying to complete one another. Then there are those who create fantasies and falsehoods for others to play into. What seems well and pleasurable on the surface, but leads a beautiful creature to its passionate suicide. To force one to lose them self to love, or their diluted sense of the word at least. Beyond this there are those who love to much, driving themselves to the brink of exhaustion with obsession. Stalking the girl as she walks to her car, manifesting that he will be hers.

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peaamlipoetrydoctor · 2 years

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Day Twenty-Five /// NaPoWri----NO

Okay Donkey journal for Day Twenty-Five which to me feels famous (Internet famous? Twitter famous?) as I guess a number of the people I follow on Twitter are published there. Always a frisson to match work to profile :)))

Also I SUPER love the little footnote, letting us know that the donkey *can't* read. The existence of this confession/disclaimer pleases me.

So, I went back to the site to look at their "more recent" poems - given that we're a few months on since the original NaPoWriMo materials - and accidentally started browsing from June 2018, which is when Okay Donkey first launched online.

Corrected course and found myself in Jan 2022 and with this - ahem - haunting piece by Beth Gordon ... especially this:

My ghosts who never died: the ones who escaped the cemetery of my heart: the ones who packed a suitcase with photographs sliced in half & left my eyes behind:

I'm hoping that Beth's poem about ghosts will inspire my own visitation poem, as the prompt for the day is to write an aisling.

I don't *think* there are specific rules about the structure - although I'm guessing it should be sort of lyrical and epic, perhaps? - but key to a successful poem will be the Spirit conjured... a female embodiment of a place / a cause - either maiden or crone (I believe).

I'm not convinced I did a great job with this last time - and I do remember dodging the hard yards by working to adapt an existing piece rather than writing something fresh.

Wondering whether I'll be better placed to tune into the spirit of the place, on this second time of trying...

#not napowrimo #napowrimo #poetry #poetic #revision

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ratmonky · 3 years

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Sweet Blossoms

this is a commission, my friend put a gun against my head to write this and I didn’t get to write any of my own ideas so you don’t tell me it sucked cuz i already know it did lol

Word Count: 4.8K

Warnings: unhealthy relationship, cheating, vanilla *bleh*

AO3 Link

There was no way he could know what kind of flowers you liked so he had left you all sorts of kinds.

You crouched down and took the flower bouquet in your arms, looking around to see who had left them but you couldn’t see him when he was that far into the darkness. With the prettiest smile on your lips, you inhaled the sweet fragrances of different flowers all at once. It almost made you dizzy because of how strong each flower's aroma was.

Carefully walking back inside the apartment, you started looking for the note the cheap supermarket flowers usually came with. While you were handling the flowers, the note slipped and fell onto the floor, right where your boyfriend was standing.

“This again?” he sighed, taking the note. He opened the note shamelessly, reading it out loud. “(name), as pretty as these flowers are, they are nothing compared to your beauty. I hope you’re staying healthy and safe.” He flipped the note to see if there was more to it but when he realized there wasn’t, he tore it apart. “Sounds like a creep.”

“Don’t say that.” You frowned, watching the note get destroyed. “They are harmless.”

“No sane man would leave flowers for some college girl living with her boyfriend. He’s probably still out there rubbing one off.” He leaned to the wall. “I would,” he added with a smirk.

“Stop being vulgar.”

“You say that while wearing things like that. You look for attention as if I’m not giving ya enough.” His words made you look down at your outfit. It was just a sundress.

“You’re overreacting,” your voice was fainter than a whisper.

“Don’t play the victim now. If it weren’t for me, you’d be sucking someone off for money to afford to live in a smaller apartment than this. Maybe you’d join those hookers in the kabuki district if I stopped giving you attention, huh?”

Legs shaking, you pressed the bouquet of flowers to your chest. There wasn’t anything you could or wanted to say to him. He was being mean but he was right. Maybe you had to stop dressing up like this. If it weren’t for him you wouldn’t be able to afford your major or rent. Your boyfriend was paying for the rent while you continued studying and worked to save money to pay off your student loan.

“Never forget that you wouldn’t be shit without me.”

You rapidly nodded, avoiding making him any more upset.

“Good,” he sighed and put his hands on his hips. “Now, go wipe your face, you look like a clown.”

Your hand went to your cheek to feel your makeup over your skin. It was still smooth, not cakey at all but from the way he said it, perhaps it looked worse than you thought.

“Okay.”

Walking past him, you slipped the small piece of paper in your dress’s pocket without him noticing. You put the flowers in a vase before placing them next to the old ones. This wasn’t the first time you had received flowers from your secret admirer and you hoped it wouldn’t be the last time.

Back in your room, hastily you took out the small paper and grinned when a movie ticket greeted you.

~~~

There hadn’t been a time in your life where you put this much effort into how you were going to look like to go out.

Your boyfriend often didn’t like it when you dressed up or put on makeup, he usually made comments on how you looked that made you feel bad about your appearance. Although you knew he loved you, it hurt your confidence. His words affected you in ways you couldn’t describe.

It was one of the reasons why you were conscious of your appearance right now and why you kept tugging your skirt down, worried that you might be showing too much skin. You wouldn’t put your small compact mirror down either, you kept checking on your makeup.

Everyone was looking at you. Thinking that you’re a slut.

At least that was what your mind was telling you. No, that was something your boyfriend would say.

While trying to ignore your own thoughts, you walked up to the employee behind the counter and showed them your ticket to enter the movie theatre. They told you your ticket’s arranged seat number and you saw from the computer screen that the seat beside yours was occupied.

You took a deep breath to calm your senses. The only reason you were here was because of how curious you were, nothing else. You had been getting flowers every Friday for longer than a year now and not knowing the identity of your secret admirer was eating you up.

I’m only gonna take a peek, you promised yourself and walked inside the theatre. If it turned out to be a creep like your boyfriend kept telling you about, then you could just walk away. This was a public space so there was no need to feel anxious about what could happen.

It took you a long moment to find your seat at the furthest back row and get comfortable on the soft cushions. The place wasn’t empty but it wasn’t full of people either, yet the row you had your seat on was completely free.

Each passing minute was unbearable even when you were trying to busy your mind with your phone but nevertheless failed to notice it when someone took a seat next to you.

By the time you looked up, there was a familiar face sitting next to you.

“Junpei!” you gasped, he always managed to sneak up on people since his presence went unnoticed.

He couldn’t meet your gaze, “Hi, it’s been a while huh?”

“Yeahh,” you went on to say before looking around, the trailers were about to start since the lights dimmed, your secret admirer was nowhere to be seen. “Umm, you see, I’m glad to see you here but I’m waiting for someone, this seat is taken.”

His adam’s apple moved as he gulped, there was a sweat droplet that drizzled down from his cheek to his neck.

Your eyes then landed on his lap. He was holding a single rose in his hand, the flower shook in his grasp.

“Oh.” It dawned on you. “Okay.”

Junpei held the flower out for you to take but still averted his gaze from yours. Slowly, you took the rose from him and lifted it up to your nose, inhaling the sweet aroma.

“You can leave,” he whispered, trying not to break the unwritten rule of a movie theater. “I won’t judge.”

He had noticed how disappointed you looked when you found out it was him who had been leaving you those flowers, he wasn’t the aggressive type to force you to sit down with him like this. Entrapping you and making you feel uncomfortable was the last thing he wanted to do.

“Why?” you whispered back.

“You looked disappointed.”

You snorted, “I was surprised to find out my next-door neighbor and dropout classmate was my secret admirer.”

Someone shushed.

Trying to stifle your giggling, you continued. “You could’ve just asked me out normally.”

His cheeks flushed deep red and he finally met your eyes. “You have a boyfriend.”

You got quiet, “Yeah.”

I have a boyfriend. I have a boyfriend but I came here to meet my secret admirer. Why?

Perhaps it was because you wanted to feel validated. The poems you got with the flowers, at least the ones you managed to hide were special to you. Whenever you doubted yourself, rereading the poems gave you the confidence you lacked.

The movie started.

Junpei was fidgeting with his fingers, no matter how much he tried he couldn’t focus on the movie. He had been wanting to see this one since it came out, the hype around the release of this movie and the reviews he had read made him more excited than ever, yet… Since you were here, his thoughts were full of you.

From the corner of his eye, he could see that you were staring at the silver screen but your expression was blank as if you weren’t paying any attention either.

He opened his mouth to say something but a scream coming from the female lead interrupted him. His attention involuntarily directed itself to the screen and soon, he sort of got invested in the storyline as you were having an internal debate with yourself.

There was an exciting scene that had him gripping to the sides of his seat, he was about to comment on the scene when he turned to face you but you were already looking at him, blushing.

Junpei didn’t understand the reason why you were blushing until he looked down. In the heat of the moment, he had placed his hand on top of yours on the seat’s cup holder.

A blush matching yours spread on his face and neck, he apologized before proceeding to lift his hand but you prevented him from pulling away by holding his hand.

Then, you intertwined your fingers together with his while scooting closer to the edge of your seat to close the distance between the two of you.

In that quiet moment of your hand tightly holding his own, Junpei started nodding as if he understood something and returned his attention to the screen.

He couldn’t focus on the rest of the movie, rather he focused on how warm your hand was or how sweaty his palm was.

Your head softly leaned on his tense shoulder. A wave of panic made Junpei’s eye look at you if you had died because -why else would you put your head on his shoulder? Yet, you were very much alive and you were still holding his hand tightly. He didn’t dare to move, not sure what exactly to do either.

Whether it be the most rational thing that came up to his mind or his own curiosity on how it felt, he tilted his head until his cheek pressed against your hair. Your warmth was enough to warm his heart, it gave him the comfort he had thought he would never get. The delicious smell of your shampoo invaded his nostrils almost instantly, a genuine smile spread on his face as you continued leaning on him.

“Why did you leave those flowers?”

The question was sudden.

“Because I… I have feelings for you.” His voice was quieter than a whisper out of consideration to not interrupt other people’s enjoyment of the movie.

“Why?”

“Why?” he echoed, thinking what to answer. There were too many reasons why. He couldn’t come up with just one. “Because you’re you.”

“What does that mean?” You lifted your head up to look at him.

“Well, it means that I like…” Geez, it was hard to say it out loud when you were looking. His cheeks were burning up and his eye was looking at everything but yours. “You’re beautiful and considerate. You care about others and you’re selfless. I guess I like you because you were kind to me back in high school.” The memory brought a smile to his complexion, you two were in the same film appreciation club in the past and were close friends if not best friends. “You’re not scared to be yourself. You always know what you want in life. I always wanted to be like you or rather be with you, kinda like adornment with a dash of being in love with you... I guess.”

Was he really describing you or some idea he had about you?

There was no way of knowing. You didn’t know who you were anymore. Not after you started dating your boyfriend.

If you had asked your boyfriend to describe you, what would he say?

Nevermind, you didn’t want to know.

“Hey,” Junpei called in a panicked voice, someone in the audience shushed again. “Are you alright? Did I say something wrong?”

You shook your head, tightening your hand around his while your eyes sparkled with gratitude. It made you look so kissable, your lips being parted slightly only made the thought a lot more irresistible.

Junpei’s face leaned closer to yours, he was moving hesitantly and slowly, waiting for your reaction. Instead of moving away, you were just staring at him but he felt like he was forcing you again.

Wanting you to make the decision, he stopped himself and closed his eyes, brows furrowing as his anxiety was eating him up. His heart hammered through his chest and he waited and waited and waited until something soft pressed on his lips.

He peeked with one eye to look at your face, the view made his heart skip a beat. Your eyes were closed, eyelashes fluttering as your glossy lips moved against his own. Having not much experience, he followed your lead, parting his lips and mirroring the way you moved yours, ignoring how wildly his body shook from excitement.

You tasted as sweet as you looked, your perfume filled his lungs and made his head spin. He was being conscious about a lot of things as your hand that was holding him moved to his shoulder and then to his neck to card your fingers through the short strands.

He could feel your warmth through your lips better than when he held your hand. He experimentally snaked his tongue inside your mouth to get a better glimpse of how you actually tasted.

Almost immediately, you opened your mouth to allow him entrance, letting his tongue hesitantly move along with yours. Teeth clashed once or twice but it did nothing other than making you giggle into the kiss.

His hand went to your cheek to caress it and pull your face closer until he could get a better angle to kiss you. There was something so endearing about the way he touched you, his touch was gentle, loving even. Something you hadn’t felt in a long time.

Once he pulled himself back, the small wet strands connecting your lips together thinned and broke apart.

Junpei was completely red and you knew you weren’t any different. His lips were swollen and pink, eyes full of admiration as he was looking at you. He was cherishing this moment.

The lights turned on, ruining the mood.

Both of you flinched and jumped back on your seats, unaware how you were practically on his lap before. It was kind of comedic, nobody would have cared if they saw two people being lovey-dovey in the back row of a theatre since it was something common yet both of you were acting like two young lovers who had been busted by their parents.

The awkwardness went away only after you exited the theater, holding Junpei’s hand.

“Your dress is really pretty,” he said to break the silence as you were walking down the street.

“Thanks, it has pockets,” you chirped, putting your free hand inside the small pocket to show it to him. “This is my favorite dress!”

“Cute,” he chuckled. His cheeks were still faintly blushed red but not as visible as before. Although his mind was clouded by many things and what was going to happen next, he didn’t dare to say anything that could ruin your smile. Not only because you looked gorgeous with a smile on your face but also because he knew you needed it.

“Junpei.”

“Hmm?”

“Wanna stop by somewhere?”

“Like for dinner? Sure, although I’m not hungry, I can watch you eat.”

“No,” you uttered, pointing towards somewhere.

Junpei’s eye followed where you were pointing your finger and his mouth gaped, cheeks flushing bright red instantaneously. He looked at you to see that you were blushing as well.

“It’s okay if you don’t wanna.” You were regretting making the suggestion.

“No, I wanna, definitely, yes, go.” He had to take a deep breath to calm himself before saying something that made sense. “You asked too suddenly.”

Nonetheless, you were the embarrassed one. He had to swallow down his own embarrassment to sheepishly drag you across the street and into the red light district. The hotel you had been pointing at had a large neon sign that read some nonsense like ‘secret getaway’ on it. You wondered if it was the absurdity of the sign or the situation which made you point at this specific hotel.

In front of the entrance, he hesitated walking inside.

“I can pay,” you said, mistaking the reason why he was hesitating.

“You don’t need to, I was just… thinking.” He was blushing again, how was he going to say this. He didn’t dare to say it out loud. Ugh, he had to. “I-I d-don’t have a condom with me.”

“I think they might sell some inside,” you hummed before getting on your tiptoes to whisper, “You don’t need one anyway.”

This time, his blood rushed south.

Your eyes landed on the not-so-small problem and softly giggled. “I guess I have to check us in, huh?”

“Please…” He used a hand to cover his face in embarrassment. “Don’t tease me about this.”

“I’ll try not to,” you said, pulling him inside the hotel, he quickly pulled his shirt down to cover the front of his pants. The reception was quiet, you chose a room that was the cheapest and got your room key from the receptionist.

Junpei let go of your hand to dive it in his pocket to fish out his wallet to pay for the room but you stopped him. He looked at you in question and you shook your head, retaking his hand. “We’ll pay when we’re leaving since we’re paying by the hour.”

He hadn’t realized how uninformed he was about this sort of stuff until today. He nodded slowly and let you lead him to the elevator and then to your room.

The awkward atmosphere was back as soon as you stepped inside the room. You finally let go of his hand to take off your shoes. While you placed your own neatly by the entrance hall, Junpei had just kicked off his shoes, leaving them as they were.

You walked further inside the room after fixing his shoes and placing them next to yours.

Junpei was busy checking the minibar as you sat on the bed, taking out your phone from your purse to check the time. It was close to evening time, your boyfriend would be back home soon. Shaking your head, you put your phone away and focused your stare on Junpei’s back. “Thank you.”

“For w-what?” His shoulders tensed at your words, it made you smile.

“For the flowers and the notes you left by my door.” You laid down on your back to feel how soft the sheets were. “Receiving them made me excited and feel validated.”

“I-it was nothing.” He walked over to the bed, it was too late to drink anything from the minibar, on top of that, the prices were way too expensive. “I always thought you found them stalkerish.”

The bed sank and creaked as he sat next to you.

“My boyfriend did.” Ah, right. Saying it out loud made you realize how silly the situation was. You were in a love hotel with someone who sent you flowers despite having a boyfriend.

“Yeah.” He didn’t know what to say, the mood had changed again.

Thankfully, you knew what to say.

“Have you ever jerked off to me?”

Caught off guard, Junpei squealed but then forced himself to laugh to avoid answering the question.

“Hmm?” You lifted your head from the bed to look at him, determined to get an answer to your question.

“I can’t answer that…” His voice died off lamely, maybe he shouldn’t have said anything.

“It’s just a question,” you replied, encouraging him to tell you the truth.

He mumbled.

“What?” You smirked, “I couldn’t hear you.”

“I said maybe!” He covered his face with his hands. Another involuntary blush colored his cheeks and neck. The sound of the fabric rustling as you perhaps leaned closer to him filled the room, but all he could hear was his heartbeat in his ears. It seemed like an eternity until you said something.

“How?” you asked, almost sheepishly.

His eye opened widely. Was he hearing things? “What?”

“How did you do it?” His eye met yours again, then turned down briefly to his lap before returning his attention toward you.

He was frozen. He slowly processed your words, pausing for a moment. Had you really asked him that? Did he imagine that? Junpei stayed in his position for a while. He didn't dare to move.

You put a hand on his knee, sending a shiver down his spine as your hand moved up to his thigh.

“(name),” he breathed, the anticipation of what was to come made his cock twitch in his pants.

“Junpei,” you echoed, grabbing his thigh and letting your fingers brush against the growing bulge. “Tell me, how did you?”

He was biting his lip as your hands fiddled with his pants, pulling the zipper down and humming.

It all felt like a dream, something he would have fantasized about when he had his hand wrapped around his cock late at night. Not something that would actually happen in a million years. Yet, it was happening right now at this moment.

“I imagined you touching me,” he revealed when you cupped his bulge.

“How?”

“Naked and-” You tugged at the front of his pants, he lifted his hips and pulled them down.

“And?” Your fingers hooked under the waistband of his boxers, smiling mischievously.

“Under me,” he gasped as you pulled his underwear down to free his half-hard cock.

“Under you?” Wrapping a hand around the base of his cock, you lowered your mouth towards his cock, lolling out your tongue, you let your drool drizzle down on him. Slowly, you moved your hand from the base to the tip, spreading your drool to use it as lubrication.

“Y-yeah.” His hands gripped the sheets tightly. His cock was fully hard and was throbbing in your hand. “Under me.”

Your hand pumped his cock for the first time, it made a faint click sound. “Tell me more.” Using your thumb, you gently pulled back the thin layer of skin to expose the tip of his cock that was glistening with precum. With your forefinger, you tapped on the liquid and moved your finger away to see how far it would stretch. “Or better, why don’t you demonstrate it for me?”

Something snapped inside him.

Junpei grabbed you by your hair and pulled you up before locking your lips together in less than a second. His hand continued pulling you closer to himself while his tongue slipped out to explore your mouth once again. You sucked on his tongue and stroked his cock while grabbing a chunk of his hair in your other hand. You pulled his hair and opened your mouth widely to take the lead and this time you wanted to savor his taste.

Junpei’s free hand went to your ass, groping it and squeezing it as tightly as he could to get you to moan into the kiss and when you did, he lifted your leg to take you under him. Now, he was able to press himself on you.

You turned your face away for Junpei to kiss your neck, so you could jerk him off faster. He pecked on your neck and licked the sensitive skin until he reached your collarbone to nibble on your skin. Desperate to leave a mark of possession.

“Junpei,” you chanted, wanting to warn him about not leaving a mark. “Don’t-”

His teeth sank into your skin, hard enough to draw blood and your body squirmed in pleasure under him. An intense moan left your lips and you retrieved your hand from his cock to instead push his hair back.

Exposing his forehead, made him pull himself back from you. None of you dared to say anything as you gazed at each other. Your eyes were on his scars, albeit you were shocked, you managed to not show it on your face and instead pulled him closer to press a gentle kiss on his scars.

Your hands slid down to his cheeks and you squished them together, before pulling them back to take off your panties. You didn’t even get to take them off properly as Junpei balanced himself on a balled-up fist and hiked the skirt of your dress up. Although you wanted to offer him to take off your dress and panties, he was already positioning himself between your legs.

He stood still for a moment to look at you under him. Legs spread, hair and dress a mess while panties stuck on one ankle. He had never imagined he would see you like this when he left his house today. If he did, he would have been a lot more prepared.

Like bringing a condom.

“Is it really okay?” he asked.

You nodded, not really understanding what he was asking.

Without wasting another precious second, Junpei tapped his cock on your clit, dragging the tip back and forth between your folds before pushing the tip in. He pushed in deeper, letting out a groan in the process when your gummy walls squeezed around him.

You gasped softly, legs wrapping around his hips.

He took a moment to get himself together, it felt like he was going to cum if he moved. This was nothing like what he had imagined.

Whimpering, you moved your hips to tell him to move.

Junpei nodded, unable to let a single syllable out because of the way you clenched around him. He took a deep breath before tentatively pulling his hips back and slamming into you.

Your lips opened in a silent moan and he leaned down to press his lips onto yours as his hips started moving. His pace was irregular, the snap of his hips was brutal but his cock stroked all the good spots.

Arms wrapping around his neck, you held onto him for dear life when his cock began hammering into you. The girth of his cock was stretching you to your limit but the length was worse, with each snap of his hips, you felt the tip kiss your cervix.

The kiss turned sloppy soon enough, both of you were covered in each other's drool from moving your lips clumsily and thanks to the impact of Junpei humping your cunt like a rabid dog in heat.

His hands went to fondle your tits, he pulled the front of your dress down and dove his hands inside your bra to pinch your nipples, he was excitedly breathing into your mouth.

Both of you were close, he knew because you were a moaning mess, moving your hips desperately to meet his thrusts and his cock was twitching inside you because of how you wanted him like he wanted you.

“I’m- I’m gonna-” He couldn’t even finish his sentence.

When you felt his cock throbbing inside you, your legs wrapped around him tighter preventing him from pulling out. Once it occurred to him that you weren’t letting him go, he surged his forward as far as he could to bury his cock deep in your pussy. The tip of his cock pressed against your cervix and your gummy walls clenched around him.

Junpei’s eye rolled up while he spilled his seed inside your womb and in your pussy, filling you up to the brim. He pulled out to watch his seed oozing out from your gaping hole, he used his thumb to spread your folds wider and smiled in awe.

A moan left your lips, legs shaking in the pleasure of your tummy being full of his cum.

Junpei crawled next to you and put his head on your chest, his hand playing with your breast over your bra as the two of you caught your breaths.

There was a soft silence while you petted his hair and watched the ceiling.

You didn’t know what time it was but it had been long enough.

It was time to go home.

When you arrived at your apartment building, you retrieved your hand that was holding Junpei’s reluctantly. The smile Junpei wished you didn’t lose on your face was gone, instead, there was a broken smile.

He opened the building door for you and pressed the elevator call button. You were clutching on your purse, looking everywhere but his way. Maybe you were thinking that you made a mistake, Junpei knew he couldn’t compete with your boyfriend after all.

The elevator doors opened. The two of you got in. He pressed your floor. After an agonizingly long pause, the doors closed with a soft bell chime.

Having previously made your decision, you grabbed Junpei by his collar and pulled him down to kiss him greedily. Dumbfounded, he kissed you back. Although he wanted to use his hands to caress your body, the elevator’s bell chimed again, alerting that the doors were opening.

You pecked on his lips before letting go of his collar, brightly beaming at him.

His lips curled up into a smile matching yours.

Together, you walked past his apartment and to your place while holding hands, thankfully moving your stuff to the next door was easy.

#junpei x reader #junpei yoshino x reader

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maraudersftw · 3 years

Note

“Can I at least tell my side of the story?”

@theroomofreq Thank you for the super fun prompt! ❤❤

Doodle

“What’s your bloody problem, Potter?”

James’s laughter died down at the sound of the voice, a hand jumping up to his hair as he turned around in his armchair to find Lily Evans stalking towards him from the portrait hole, face red enough to match her hair.

“Evans,” James blinked, dropping his hand immediately when her scathing remark from a few days ago near the lake came to mind, “What’s the matter?”

“What’s the matter, you say?” Evans scoffed, and James could tell from his peripheral vision that Gryffindors all around the common room had stopped to stare at what they expected to be another one of their infamous rows. His attention was snapped back when she spoke again. “The matter is that you just can’t seem to take ‘no’ for an answer. I’ve tried telling you nicely one too many times, but this is just childish, even by your standards.”

“I know you’re going to think I’m lying, but I honestly don’t have the faintest clue as to what you mean.”

“Oh, really?” Lily threw him a fake smile, suddenly shoving a tiny piece of parchment under his nose, “perhaps this will help you remember.”

James curiously moved his eyes away from her face and looked down at the short note. Within half a heartbeat, the tips of his ears were dangerously warm, and he kept blinking at the note, unable to believe what he was seeing.

Thankfully, Remus had taken it upon himself to shoo away the onlookers with a stern, “don’t you lot have anything better to do with your time?”, so at least James was saved the mortification of having prying eyes witness his pathetic state.

“Well?” Lily said, a hand on her hip as she looked at him. James noticed that she had yet to return back to her normal color, taking some comfort in the fact that he was not alone in his humiliation, though hers was definitely mixed with a good amount of anger.

“How did you find this?” He asked in a pained voice, looking down at the parchment again and openly flinching.

It was one of James’s numerous doodles, the ones he often found himself drawing absent-mindedly during classes.

This one was particularly embarrassing; it was a large heart with an arrow running through it, and it merrily nodded from one side to the other, courtesy of his special quill. The highlight was, of course, the pair of initials inked boldly inside the heart.

James recognized this doodle very well, remembered the exact History of Magic lesson during which he had drawn it several weeks ago. But what he did not recognize was the horrifying message scribbled underneath it in his handwriting.

Evans, the bud of my heart,

I like you a Lily bit more every day

All I can think about is how we should put our tulips together

And how robes on bodies are really just a bother

“Can I at least tell my side of the story?” He asked quickly, gulping when his eyes traveled back up to see Lily turning redder by the second. “I swear it’s not what it looks like. I didn’t write this.”

“You expect me to actually believe that?!” She seethed, “That’s your chicken scrawl, isn’t it?”

“Yes, but—hang on, how did you know—?”

“So, you’re telling me someone else went through all the trouble to write down this utterly terrible, pun-filled, and downright crass poem, draw a stupid heart with our initials on it, and dropped the parchment into my bag for—for what, exactly?”

James blinked, “Uhh…”

“Thought so. You know, Potter, I always knew you were a prat, but I never pegged you for a liar.”

“No, wait!” James jumped out of the chair, feeling slightly desperate when Lily looked like she was about to storm off, “alright, that—that drawing is mine. But I swear I didn’t write the rubbish underneath it and I sure as hell didn’t drop it into your bag! I’d have to be mad to—come on, Evans, look at it! I’m not eleven anymore. I could do much better.”

Lily continued to stare at him suspiciously, and James tried not to squirm under her scrutinizing gaze even though he was rather certain he was flushed all over.

After what seemed like an eternity, she let out a heavy exhale and James almost wiped his brow in relief. “It doesn’t make any sense though,” Lily said, “Who would do something like that?”

James considered her question for a second. No one in the entire school had anything to gain out of trying something like this, not when James made his affections for Lily quite vocal all by himself. None of the Slytherins who hated him possessed a funny bone in their body, so James quickly ruled them out as well.

In fact, the only people who would find his embarrassment absolutely tickling—

His eyes sharply flitted to the three boys still seated around the fireplace, their backs unnaturally rigid and tense.

He looked at Remus first, whose face was a mask of pure innocence, and he smiled at James pleasantly. Narrowing his eyes, James moved onto Sirius, who was nothing if not a bastard. He was barely controlling the chuckles spilling from his lips and the mirth in his grey eyes was unrestrained, but this was hardly evidence enough for James, for he was certain Sirius would find the situation entirely hilarious regardless of whether it was brought on by him or anyone else.

Finally, his eyes settled on Peter, and as soon as the smaller boy looked at him, he let a telling squeak fly, watery eyes flitting nervously and confirming James’s suspicions.

Sirius and Remus let out simultaneous groans of disbelief and facepalmed, shooting up from the couch and immediately bolting away, dragging a jittery Peter behind them. Laughter bounced off the walls as they quickly exited the portrait hole.

A second ticked by, and James turned to look at Lily with a deranged expression on his face.

“Excuse me, Evans,” He said, pushing past her with a smile that probably scared Lily enough that she didn’t think to put up a fight, “I have three murders to commit tonight.”

#asks #theroomofreq #claudia writes #prompts #claudiawrites #doodle #claudia answers #jily #jily fic #jily drabble #jily one shot #marauders #poor james lol #hodgepodge

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violetnatelley · 2 years

Text

The Oialëa Series - House of The Peredhil Headcanons

Some headcanons and details of various characters. This is mostly for my sake because I am so bad at keeping notes and having to find them in stacks of papers and post-it notes lying about in my room.

Note: I will be editing this as I update my story. :)

Illyria Strange/Elemmírë:

Surprise, she was actually not that tall in her elf form, probably more glowy and more graceful but standing next to Maedhros and Glorfindel, she’s shorter than Elrond by several inches.

She got the habit of being barefoot from Idril when they were still Vinyamar, when she was literally a toddler and would follow her around along with Voronwë. She carries this habit as Illyria.

Wears gloves because she used to have to wear it as Elemmírë after they got burnt by Ancalagon.

She has a favourite child (sorry Elrohir) and it's got to be Elladan since he shares the most traits with her. But they get into the most arguments the most.

She gets teased for being the golden-haired lady out of her, Mereneth and Celebrían during the Second Age.

Has the worst aim as an archer and has at least shot one of her friends and family (or almost shot them).

Hates spiders.

Not fully human or elf: she’s a whole different being but no spoilers yet.

She, Shuri, Harley along with Peter and his parents have a movie marathon once a month. They’ve probably watched the Star Wars movies more than twice.

From above: the Mirror Dimension has the best acoustics to watch movies.

She and Mereneth spent most of their time pranking Gil-Galad, Erestor and Elrond the most. And yes, they had a prank war to end it all.

After the War of Wrath, she never was able to feel anything with her hands so most of the time she needed to wear enchanted gloves to protect herself. Sad thing was that she also never got to feel any of her family with them until she became Illyria.

Cont. from above, Elemmírë had to hold her children with gloves.

Elrond Peredhel/Tercáno:

He designed his study so it could be a place for him to have people around and to feel comfortable and safe, hence the open small courtyard and balcony and how it looked out into the valley.

The gardens he designed with Elemmírë were based on Elemmírë's memories of her house in Gondolin as well as the gardens in Lindon but also from Númenor as Elros was into gardening and plants.

He keeps every piece of craft, writing and artwork his children make and often takes them out to look at them whenever he feels lonely and often wishes his wife is here to see them grow up.

He built his own harp and ‘tried’ to teach his children; only Elrohir was able to be equal to his level but none could match Lindir.

Like twins, he did once conceded to Elros to switch places one time during a trip to Númenor. Only Tindómiel and Elemmírë were able to distinguish between the two of them.

He always made sure to spend time with his children when they were all elflings, from climbing trees with Elladan, getting paint all over him from Elrohir to making sure Arwen hadn’t tried to lure half of the valley to do her bidding.

He has about dozens of poems about everything in his life but only Erestor knows about it, just how he’s the only one who knows about Erestor’s secret stash of rather questionable love notes to Glorfindel.

Elemmírë made sure they would have a day for themselves where they would just discuss about anything they liked at the waterfall. They often ended up perhaps elsewhere.

Being part-Maia...he has a little bit more powers which can’t be said atm. ;)

Arwen Undómiel:

She's Elrond's favourite (which basically means poor Elrohir literally is the unproblematic and nice middle child technically).

She learnt a lot about politics and ruling from Galadriel and Celeborn because ngl, Elrond's too kind to be king and Elemmírë would get bored sitting on a throne.

Arwen is the golden child, admit it. Was able to show light magic at the age of ten, was able to see Vilya even though Elrond and Elemmírë shielded it with a bunch of enchantments and was incredibly good at connecting to the animals and living things around her.

She goes to her brothers depending on what she wants. Elladan: to have fun and get away with doing things she shouldn't be doing, learn more light magic and steal food from the kitchens. Elrohir: to listen to him tell stories to her, go on picnics and learn how to play the harp.

Arwen's strength is her connection to the Astral Plane and can become corporeal in one location.

Would get along with Master Hamir or Andrea Barnard and can discuss about philosophy and ethics of other beings and races.

She was not involved with the goat prank.

Elladan Mahtaro:

He is the eldest out of the Peredhil Twins by about twelve minutes.

He wields Calimmacil, one of Elemmírë's dual swords from Gondolin.

His fighting style is a mix of his uncle and his mother and prefers to use the offence side of eldritch and light magic.

During the wars against Angmar, he did fall in love with Firiel, Queen of Arnor and Gondor, and chose to never marry again after this...until Chapter 24 of Changing of the Song.

He and Arwen argue a lot, especially when it comes to strategic decisions and politics and thinking about the other races in Middle Earth.

His strength in magic itself is using dimensional magic more than light magic. His style is sharp but not as controlled as Elrohir and can erupt into bursts with emotion.

He gets along with Legolas the most, both of them competing for the fastest tree run.

Would get along with Stephen Strange and Wong the most, especially with his interest in the Mystic Arts.

The prank in the goat was his idea but Elrohir would say the latter.

Elrohir Quentaro:

The most stable and most elf-like out of the children of Elrond & Elemmírë and would never give up immortality for some person.

The most balanced of traits with his parents and is incredibly patient but very open and friendly and loves to meet new people.

Glorfindel's favourite. (And the least when it comes to pranks)

He does possess a craft compared to his siblings and can create books and is becoming a good loremaster like his parents.

Best storyteller in the Hall of Fire apart from Lindir and Glorfindel.

He is the mediator and anchor of his entire family and without him, the dynamics between them all are going to push them apart. He is a good listener but is good at inputting suggestions and advice.

Out of him and Elladan: he is the one who initiates the pranks.

His magic is more tamed and can have the most control with it. He uses the deepest parts of magic such as using light magic through enhancing his fighting and body but especially use it to weave his stories.

He, Elladan and Kili made a pact along with Pippin and Merry to do the most pranks during their stay...which literally had to be Lindir’s worst month ever.

Would get along with Darcy the most especially when it comes to talking about gossip and stories.

It was his idea about the goat and Glorfindel.

Glorfindel/ Laurefindelë:

Half-Ainu (Son of Ilmarë according to Part 1 Interlude of CoTS).

He and Ecthelion babysat young Elemmírë and Voronwë the most and took them swimming in Vinyamar when the season was warm.

During his stay on Earth, he enjoyed tasting and learning the cuisine Wong cooks and loves to dot Darcy at the new technology and their way in using Astronomy.

Has seen every Disney Princess movie. His favourite would have to be Tangled. (Probably because of Rapunzel’s long golden hair.)

As Captain of the Guard and a formidable warrior, he has trained all of the Peredhil children.

Second most targeted person for Elladan and Elrohir’s pranks. (First being Lindir.)

He and Elemmírë ran their own house but they were terrible at managing a good balance with socials, so thank Hestondur (their governor of the house) for literally being the backbone.

Could and would break your back if you tried to hurt his family.

He would say that he one against Maedhros in Wii Sports bowling but Maedhros would say it was beginner’s luck.

#headcanon #head canons #my character notes #lotr #lord of the rings #fanfiction #fanfic #the oialea series #peredhil #elves #tolkien #notes #just a bit of fun for me #will come back later #ao3

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