heyyy i’m vespera (she/her) 🧛♀️ or you can just call me V!!! i’m queer and happy to be here!
i’m 25 and i ask that minors do not interact!!! this is a horny blog for horny posting
i like my angry kitten shane hollander, my papa bear ilya rozanov, heated rivalry, spooky stuff, and posting stupid shit to tumblr dot com. i hate AI with the heat of a thousand suns
i think the concept of the birthday card is largely lost on ilya until he finally joins the hollanders in their nest woven with love. please walk with me
like sure, he knows what a birthday card is. he used to get them from his mom, maybe with a little money tucked inside along with a sweet message about celebrating him and the new year for making memories. but after irina’s death, no one bothers with birthday cards anymore. no one gives to ilya anymore.
until he meets his shane. his shane who is the ultimate giver, his shane who never makes him feel guilty for wanting him, for wanting something for himself. every stolen glance, every hook up, and then eventually every day with shane is a gift. even when ilya doesn’t ask, even when ilya doesn’t expect, shane gives and gives and gives because that’s his partner who deserves the world and more. it’s as natural as breathing, or counting to ten, or being together
and shane’s parents are exactly the same. from the very day ilya met them, david and yuna gave him things with no strings attached. they gave him a family with two parents, a home cooked meal, good russian vodka, kindness, patience, acceptance. things that have only been given to him tenfold since the first time. things that ilya had gone so long without.
so on the first birthday ilya officially has with shane as his boyfriend, his partner, his family, he’s not surprised that the hollanders shower him with gifts galore, material and not. but he is surprised when shane tells him to open the card first before they go over to david and yuna’s for dinner and cake
it’s a generic happy birthday! 🎉 card that’s blank on the inside, one half for david and yuna, the other for shane. shane obviously had his parents sign it first, because as ilya skims shane’s side he sees words and phrases like body and sex and being yours. he has to steel himself to work through the giant walls of text on either side, both because he still doesn’t read english as well as russian and because his vision is already slightly blurry, words swimming as he blinks back tears that burn with love and adoration
and it’s the sweetest fucking thing anyone has ever given him. he wants to frame it. he wants to host the world’s largest show and tell session: my boyfriend and his family wrote me this birthday card and took time out of their busy schedules to tell me about how much they love me in pen. although he’s grateful for the thoughtful gifts they wrapped, nothing beats the words of affirmation scribbled out onto this piece of cardstock that somehow feel so similar to the big group hugs he gets from the hollanders
ilya tells everyone as much. shane holds him when he cries for real, when he tells shane that it’s been upwards of fifteen years since anyone has thought to write him a birthday card. he thanks david and yuna profusely and paraphrases the parts he liked most, the parts that make him feel all warm and fuzzy inside. he reads it again and again, even after it’s no longer his birthday. he keeps it in his nightstand, safely tucked away for when he wants a reminder of how much he is truly cared for, how much his family sees him, the family that he can’t believe he has now. over time the card wears creased corners and ink runs with splotches of dried tears. it’s ilya’s prized possession
and every year after this first magical birthday when shane or yuna or david ask ilya what he wants for his birthday, he shrugs or waves his hand and says earnestly, “you don’t have to get me anything. i already have everything i want. just a card would be really nice.”
happy birthday to my sweet cinnamon roll ilya rozanov i hope you get to smoke a cigarette or two and drive down the block blasting europop with the windows down in a flashy sports car today