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#people always say my hair looks messy and unclean
azulock · 4 months
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this has been sitting in my drafts for sooooo loooong, it's mostly born from how mean people can be in this fandom about poor Oli looking the way he does. I love his messy 'I don't have my life together' look, it's very relatable, but today we putting him under tha razor!
summary. when Oliver finds himself forced to get a clean shave for some important club event he tries to rope you into doing the work for him. and you do it, cause he is too charming and you can't resist spoiling this man
pairing. Oliver Aiku x reader
wordcount. 2,6k
warnings. some slight mention of nsfw stuff but veeeery slight, it's mostly domestic fluff, just pure distilled domesticity shot straight into your veins, you've been warned
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helping hand.
"Really Oliver, you pestering me during work hours to do that for you?"
Giving one last hard stare at your screen, you groaned and swiveled you chair around to face the man currently breaking the peace in your office. With hair still damp from his shower, Oliver stood bare foot before you - a trail of wet footsteps clear behind him. God, you'd lost count of how many times you'd told him he'd end up sick if he kept doing that.
"Oh come on, it's not that big of a deal," he insisted, cutting off your thoughts, pouting as you fitted him with a steely gaze. "I neeeeed you."
You roll your eyes at his whiny antics - and complete disregard for your work life. It was almost funny to see a grown man pout like this, especially when you contrasted the silly expression with this statuesque of a man. You couldn't help but let your eyes roam free for a moment, taking in the sight of him. Water droplets still rolled down his strong torso, taking your gaze to the short hair trailing down his lower abs, to the point where his sweatpants hung dangerously low on his hips. Shit, he was diverting your attention.
"Oliver," you sigh, rubbing your eyes to try and exorcise the images stealing your focus, "you've been doing that by yourself your entire adult life, you don't need me."
"That's not true, it goes way better when you do it for me," Oliver whined again, and even in his husky tone, you could hear it, the begging, so shameless.
At this moment he looked every bit like a dog, a ragged mutt pleading for attention at his owner's feet. Hell, he was even trying to shoot you the best puppy eyes he could muster, pout returning to those pretty lips. You'd say it was ridiculous, but maybe it was the smell of soap or maybe the warmth emanating from his skin, but something was making you want to give in.
"That's nonsense," you groaned, pinching the bridge of your nose as you tried to convince yourself to not let him sway you. "I'm not a barber, and you've been shaving your own damn self for years. I'm pretty sure you can keep your eternal stubble under control on your own."
"Well, I could," Oliver shrugged, remaining unfazed by the exasperation in your voice. "Though, this time I'm gonna have to shave it clean."
"What?" Suddenly, you were fully immersed in the topic, even though you felt like you'd fallen into a trap.
Oliver had to contain his smile when you suddenly went from nonchalant to interested. It was really cute. He knew you liked feeling the scruff around his face, which he always thought was absolutely endearing. Now, sadly, he'd have to part ways with it, albeit temporarily.
"You remember tomorrow's party? Well, the team's president is an old school kinda guy. He's gonna get pissed if he sees the team's captain shows up looking so unclean for an important event," he answers with a full body sigh, eyebrows arching high as he raises his shoulders.
"That's ridiculous," your words cut so dry that Oliver can't help but laugh at the barely contained disgust in your tone.
"Well, I think so too. But I like my position right now, if the old man wants me clean for the party, I can make the sacrifice," he answered with a wave of his hand, stepping closer to your chair before leaning in, using his hands to prop his body onto your armrests. "But it could be less painful if you helped me."
You sat in silence, staring him down for a long minute as he leaned in close, that charming smile never faltering. From this close, you could smell the conditioner on his hair and feel his breath on your skin. Shit, you could feel yourself falling for it. Rubbing a hand over your face, you slumped further down the chair, sighing as you went.
"Fine," you groaned, looking back up to his beaming face. "Go soak the soap and the brush, I'll be right there."
Closing the distance between you, Oliver met your lips with his in a short kiss before pulling back in a breath, his skin still damp and warm from the shower. "Already done that, I'll go get myself a chair."
You hummed as he got up, lifting your body heavily off of the chair after he'd disappeared into the hallway. You spoiled him too much, you were sure of it, but you guessed he had the same type of charm as a big dog who still believes they are lap sized. It was hard to say no to that.
Following the wet footsteps, you found yourself in your en suite bathroom, Oliver sitting on a high chair he'd taken from the kitchen counter. At least he'd left everything ready, so all you had left to do was commit the dismal crime of doing away with his stubble. A pity, you'd miss the feeling of it on your skin. For however many days the shave would last, that is.
Picking the plastic bowl of shaving soap, you started moving the barber brush in circular motions to begin lathering it up. Taking a step forward, you approached Oliver as your hands worked, shaking your head as he snaked an arm around your waist.
"You are spoiled," you mumbled, feeling him laugh as he looked at you both in the mirror, your gaze following his.
"Maybe," he hummed, "but I spoil you plenty too."
"Well, here we go I guess," you said with a chuckle, making him straighten to give you a better access to his face and neck.
When the soft brush touches his face Oliver hums, closing his eyes as you begin spreading the soap over his jaw. It felt nice, both the gentle smell of lemon grass and the feeling of having you taking care of him. Yeah, he was spoiled, he knew it, but could he really be blamed for liking being pampered?
Oliver was only human after all, and having to unwillingly part ways with his facial hair was not his favorite thing. So it only made sense that he'd try to squeeze whichever little joy he could from this situation. And having you do that for him was joy enough on his book. Between feeling the warmth coming from your body and the comfortable silence that had settled, he could almost forget he was being forced to do this.
Opening his eyes he found your face close to his, gaze set in concentration as you moved the brush around his neck, finishing lathering it up. It was beautiful, really, sometimes you'd focus on something so much you wouldn't even see the things around you. Cute, and he couldn't resist the urge to take advantage of that, lowering his lips to meet yours in a quick peck.
"Oliver," you exclaimed as he laughed, "you gotta cooperate, you bastard. Now I got soap on my face," you grunted, looking at the mirror and then back to him.
"Just a little bit," he chuckled, reaching out to clean your face with his hand as you sneered at him.
You shook your head and turned to put the brush back, watching from the mirror as he still chuckled at you. Pestering you when you were focused never seemed to stop amusing him. And to boot, you couldn't deny there was something infuriatingly endearing about it. Or maybe you were just blinded by the casual charm of his smile - again.
Picking up the safety razor, you turn back to him again. "Now, you better behave if you don't wanna have to clean your blood off of the white floor."
"So mean," Oliver pouts before smiling that heart shattering smile again. "Alright, I'm in your hands then."
You roll your eyes as he straightens up, hands gripping the sides of the chair. When the blade first meets his face you feel Oliver shiver at the cold touch of the metal, but as quick as it happens, it's gone. You move your wrist and the blade glides down his warm skin in short strokes, following the grain of the hair on his stubble. Oh, it's gonna be so sad to see it gone. Especially knowing how a good part of Oliver's appeal came from how he looked at least a little like a mess. You couldn't even recall the face of his club's president, but you now hated the old man.
There is ease in the silence that settles as you carefully work the sharp blade along his face and neck. Only the rough sound of metal scraping against the hair and skin fills the bathroom as an oddly well-behaved Oliver sits in stillness. It feels almost suspicious, even, but you guessed he had no interest in showing up to the party with a cut on his face. Not that you believed even that could do much harm to his good looks.
When that first pass is done you turn to the sink and wash the razor before picking up the brush start the cycle and lather his face again. Though, just as you turn back he catches you off guard, forward and capturing your lips in a quick kiss - but he almost topples his chair over in the process. Desperately you steady him up, pushing his large frame back by his shoulders.
For a moment there the scare takes the best of you, brows furrowing in a scowl, ready to chastise Oliver for the stupidy. But then he starts laughing, the warm and husky sound enveloping you as they echo off the walls, breaking your defenses. You laugh along, slapping his shoulder but leaning against him for a short moment. Sometimes he could be an idiot, but that too was part of the appeal.
Once you both recover you go back to your work, lathering his face, putting the brush back in place, picking up the razor, and bringing it to touch his face. This time you move it cross grain, once more enjoying the sound of the metal moving over his skin. It's all peaceful, for at least half of the process until Oliver grows bored, his large hand finding your bare leg, fingers traveling over the back of your thigh until they reach the hem of your shorts.
You grunt in warning and he only hums quietly in what sounded like a mocking acknowledgment. Oliver disregards your death glare completely, his palm touching your thigh, rough fingers massaging your skin as they move. Even then he doesn't stay put, hand traveling up and groping your ass, kneading the flesh under your shorts just as your reach his neck. For a moment you consider giving into the desire to leave just a little gash on his skin, but you manage to resist.
Just as you try to turn back again he he uses the hand on your ass to pull you closer in. You don't even have time to protest as his lips crash against yours - and you can already notice the strangeness of not feeling his stubble. Still, he doesn't give you much time to think on it, tongue slipping past your lips and exploring the wet insides of your mouth. He tastes like coffee, and you can't help but let the taste lure you in, the sensations enveloping you, warmth rising in your face until then it's gone.
His lips part from yours with a quick peck and you are already missing the kiss - what a bastard, teasing you like that. You huff and shake your head when Oliver winks at you, slapping your ass as you turn around and repeat your previous motions of washing the razor and grabbing the brush again.
You lather his face, then throw the brush in the sink before picking up the razor and letting it touch his skin for a final pass, this time against the grain. Oliver hums when you lean in and it sends shivers down your spine, his hand finding your leg again but this time he just let it dance over your thigh absentmindedly. You find comfort in the warmth of his palm and in the ritualistic nature of this whole thing - it's a soothing type of repetitive task.
This time the blade hugs close to his skin, and when you get to his neck you can feel his steady pulse. Sitting so still, so calm, the beating of his heart feels strangely slow, yet heavy and powerful. You know it's the telltale sign of that athletic resistance and ungodly endurance, but the slow rhythm never ceases to seem almost eerie.
When you finish you run a hand over his face, feeling the smooth, still damp skin. It's strange, but you take solace in knowing it's temporary. Soon enough it'll be gone, though not without leaving Oliver itchy for at least a day, and you always found it funny how bothered he was by that. He smiles at you and you can feel it go straight between your legs - fuck, you are sure he did that on purpose.
But you don't give the pleasure of attention, instead turning around to rest the razor on the stone sink. You hear Oliver yawn from behind you, and watch from the mirror as he stretches as you pick a towel from the rack. Turning back to him you pat his face dry, and as if he wasn't already being spoiled enough, you rub the aftershave lotion on his skin. When it's all done Oliver climbs down from the chair and pulls you in by the waist, placing a soft kiss on your lips before you both turn to the mirror.
"There you go," you say, resting your hip against the sink as Oliver leans in, "how you feeling?"
"Like I'm seven years younger," he responds, touching his face with his free hand. "Which is a nightmare, actually," he pouts.
"Oh, come on, it's only temporary. You gonna be back to having the stubble and looking great again in just a few days."
"Hey," he grunts, squinting his eyes at you, "what do you mean by that? You talk like I'm not handsome anymore," he almost growls in a joking threat, a smile playing at his lips as he cages you against the stone counter, hands on each side of your body. "What's up with that, huh?"
You chuckle as Oliver says the question low in your ear right before assaulting your face with soft kisses. You laugh, grabbing at his shoulders as he snakes a hand around your waist. He's rubbing his face against yours and you can't help but notice how odd it is not to feel the stubble you'd grown so used to.
"Oliver," you laugh, dual colored eyes looking up at you as he peppers kisses over your neck, "this is so strange, your face is so smooth."
"Ah, but you gonna have to deal with it," you laugh as he rubs his face against yours almost like a cat before taking his lips to yours and placing a quick peck. "You gotta make up to me for saying something so mean."
"I've just done your shaving for you, ain't that enough?"
"Nah, I can think of something better."
He pulls you in closer, rubbing his pelvis against yours, letting you feel the large bulge under the the fabric of his sweatpants. Of course, he was like that, it didn't surprise you at all. But you guessed you could spoil him just a little bit more, as a reward for behaving so well even under such difficult circumstances. Yeah, he deserved a bit more pampering, why not?
now for a word from our sponsors: @wishiknewwhatiwasdoingwithmylife
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sapphire-wine · 3 years
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I would like to thank the academy and @jazjo33 for this opportunity and for supporting me all the way. Without further ado, the trope-filled Gavinners y/n fic, with a little twist. I think it's a given that it was neither proofread nor beta read.
I would like to dedicate it to @digitalstowaway
If anyone who wasn't in on this finds this please this is a joke this is a joke this is a joke this is a jo-
Y/N woke up. She needed to get ready to start her day.
She threw her hair into a messy bun. She adjusted her crop top shirt and looked in the mirror. She didn’t think she looked very special, but everyone else always liked what she looked like.
As heir leader of her gang, she was very busy and responsible for the lives of others. Everyone looked to her to lead them. They were her pack (she was also a werewolf), and she needed to provide for them.
She needed to get her coffee from the local coffee shop. She always went to the local shops. Not the name brands, she wasn’t like all of the other girls.
She gave her name and waited at the front of the line.
A man came in a little after her, seeming somewhat familiar. He wore sunglasses and a hat. His skin was pale and tan. He looked over at her, smiled, and walked over to give his order.
“Y/N” the barista called.
“Y/N?” the man said, “I used to know a girl named Y/N. She was really special to me. Well, I have to go.”
The familiar man left as quickly as he came. Y/N was a bit disappointed, but she didn’t let it show across her face.
She grabbed her mocha latte and went back to her small mansion.
Daryan, her right hand man, greeted her at the door.
“Hi Y/N. We’ve been waiting for you.” He said, sultrily.
“We have work to do, Daryan.” Y/N rolled her eyes, they were half blue, half pink. It was a special trait that designated her status as a werewolf. Luckily, many non-werewolfs didn’t notice it. She pushed past him into the house. He grabbed her arm as she walked past
“You’re late to the meeting with your parents, the pack leaders.” Daryan called over his shoulder.
“We’ve decided to sell you to the rival gang. Their leader will be here to pick you up tomorrow.”
“But mom! Dad! I’m the heir to the pack! You can’t be doing this!” Y/N yelled.
“We are. You leave in the morning. Daryan will help you back.”
Y/N turned to Daryan.
“I’m coming with you Y/N.”
“Daryan, you can’t. They’ll kill you.”
“That is a risk I’ll have to take. I can’t let you go into that nest alone.”
“Daryan..”
“Y/N…” Daryan looked like he wanted to say more, but then he punched the blanket and left.
“Goodbye…” Y/N said glumily, now alone. All this time, she thought her and Daryan were close friends, possibly closer. She thought he was her special someone, but now she wasn’t sure.
She fell onto her bed, and started texting a number she usually texted when she was upset. She found it one day when she was upset, and the person on the other end of the line was always understanding. They never told her their name. And she never told them hers. That did not make their connection any less strong.
The next morning the vampire leader came to take her away. He gave a credit card to her parents, to complete the transaction.
The vampire was a tall figure.
He took off his sunglasses to reveal two red eyes.
“My name is Klavier. I am the leader of my gang and also a vampire and I am here to take you to my vampire nest, Ja?”
Y/N was shocked. This was the man from the cafe! The familiar-looking man! The man from the cafe was the vampire leader of the rival gang. He ruled over his half of the city like a sheriff. He wasn’t a bad guy, but he was a bit of a bad boy. He would protect you if you asked, and decimate his enemies.
Y/N was brought to the vampire nest. It was a mansion in LA and very high status. Y/N could tell by looking at it. (A/N: We don't have mansions where I live, but I bet they're pretty big!)
She walked through the door.
“We’ve been waiting for you.” A familiar voice said.
“Daryan?”
“Hello Y/N”
“What are you doing here?”
“I told you I would come with you.”
“It is dangerous.”
A vampire came and interrupted them. “Our leader would like to meet with you. In his chambers.”
Y/N said goodbye to Daryan and went to Klavier’s chambers.
She saw Klavier standing at the window of his room. She tried to talk to him but he seemed lost in thought.
Because she was upset, Y/N started texting the number of her close friend, who she did not know the name of. She heard Klavier’s phone go off, and she gasped. He opened the message, and responded to it in front of her. She gasped again.
Klavier looked hopeful, but then his face fell.
“I...cannot be with you.” He whispered. Y/N was distraught.
She was beginning to think that Klavier was her special someone. She didn’t want to lose him to this.
“I...have a secret.” Klavier looked away, his shirt blowing open by the wind.
“And what is that?” Y/N questioned.
“I don’t like eating humans. It is unclean. I am….unclean.”
“No. That’s not true.” Y/N crept closer. She placed a hand on his chest. “It’s not true. Because you feel bad about it. That’s real, you’re real. I’m real. We’re real. Together. And together we will not eat humans.”
Klavier , “You’re right Y/N. Of course you’re right. You’ve always been right. Even when we were little.”
Y/N gasped, “you remember?”
“Of course I remember. You were very special. You were special to me. You still are.”
“Oh...Klavier…” Y/N leaned in.
“Y/N…” Klavier also leaned in.
They fell onto the plush big bed together.
Y/N woke the next morning in Klavier’s bed. It was empty. She was slightly disappointed. She went to her own room.
Waiting outside of her room was Daryan.
“Daryan!”
“I waited for you all night, Y/N. Where were you?”
“Why do you need to know?”
“You were with Klavier.”
“What does it matter?”
“You’re pregnant Y/N. I can smell it. This is ridiculous!” Daryan punched the wall. It made a big hole. “You’re a werewolf, Y/N! He’s a vampire. What’s going to happen to this baby?”
“We’ll just have to see.” Y/N cradled her stomach protectively.
“What is going on here?” She heard Klavier snarl from behind her. He wrapped a shoulder over her arms protectively.
“He’s worried our child is going to be a vampire.”
“He is not going to be a vampire. Our son will be a normal human.”
“What?” Y/N asked, “how do you know?”
“Because I am also a demon. I keep it a secret.” Klavier explained, “the demon in me will neutralize any quality in this child. Is that ok with you?”
“Yes. It is ok.”
Daryan punched the wall again, upset he lost his secret love forever. He punched the wall so hard he fractured his hand, and lay dying from the blood loss.
Klavier snapped his fingers, and two vampires came to take Daryan to the infirmary.
“Will he make it?” Y/N asked, concerned.
“Only time will tell, Y/N. The blood loss was extensive. (A/N: I’ve been to crime scenes so I know about extensive blood loss)
“What should we do while we wait?” Y/N put her hands over her growing belly again.
“We will lead our clans together. Your parents died shortly after you left. You are the leader of your clan now.”
Y/N was sad, but knew her responsibility as new pack leader. Her blue/pink eyes shined bright with hope for the future. For their child. For each other.
(A/N: Hope you all liked it! My cousin told me I should start writing!! So I started with my favorite band, The Gavinners!)
~~
Pearl Fey signed out of her account on the public library computer, packed up her belongings, and started walking back to the train station. She felt extremely satisfied with her work today, and thought a lot of people were going to like it.
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halcyonstorm · 3 years
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Hey! I hope you're well. I started watching AOT and realized that levihan was a ship. And after reading the manga Ive come to the conclusion that they were more than friends if not just friends. Mostly because I saw Levi act with Isabella, a friend and a sister of sorts even Farlan. But with Hange he was just different. And thats what made me feel maybe it really was something more. He was a different Levi with her. All the teasing and the overprotectiveness, the unnecessary sass and hostility sometimes, but that makes me wonder WHY? Why was he like this towards her? And when was the moment he fell for her or decided to befriend her that way that yes I will tease this person from now on. At first I thought its because of how they met maybe but their first meeting was so sweet. Hange seemed impressed by him and he even thanked her for her compliments. I didnt think their interaction would lead to something like this. So what are your thoughts because I wonder alot on this. Also can someon pls tell me why Levi looks at her that way in aot 4 when hange meets the kids with him and says if they dont understand us we'll meet them and teach them. Like. What happened? Thank you !
Hi! I am well, thanks! And thank you for leaving me an ask! I always appreciate hearing what people have to say. I’m gonna try my best to answer your question without going on any tangents lol (but I can’t promise I won’t). This is going to be long.
Mostly because I saw Levi act with Isabella, a friend and a sister of sorts even Farlan. But with Hange he was just different. And thats what made me feel maybe it really was something more.
I 100% agree with this. When I read the manga and watched the anime, I thought maybe Isabel was a love interest (AT FIRST). When I realized she would call him “aniki” (brother) and the way he acted around her (patting her head), I knew there was a different relationship between Isabel and Levi. He saw her as a little sister and was always trying to avoid his two friends from getting into trouble. That’s why he decided for all of them to join the SC after all.
But with Hange he was just different. And thats what made me feel maybe it really was something more. He was a different Levi with her. All the teasing and the overprotectiveness, the unnecessary sass and hostility sometimes, but that makes me wonder WHY? Why was he like this towards her?
I think that the reason Levi had always acted different with her than anyone else was because of their first interaction. It was not in the anime but it WAS in the manga where Hange approaches the trio saying “I was watching you at that crucial moment!” (Not to mention the chapter Hange appears for the first time is called “Hearts” and in 139 we see “...hearts” over her head). At this point, Levi, Farlan, and Isabel were ready to kill Hange since they thought she found out about their plan to kill Erwin. What actually happened was she had seen how cool they all were and wanted to pay them a compliment. Ever since that trio left the underground, Hange was the first person to show them kindness. I don’t think this is something Levi would forget or take lightly. If it were me, I’d definitely remember that moment. I know there is a post somewhere comparing how Levi looked at Hange for the first time vs how he admired the nature outside the walls for the first time. After Farlan and Isabel died, who did he have? Practically no one. It’s my own HC but I’d like to think that Hange stuck by his side. Levi and Hange both have lost so many comrades that they found solace in each other. They bonded through grief I suppose. Also, I think Levi was intrigued by Hange’s personality. Their personalities complement each other: Hange is extroverted, loud, messy; Levi is introverted, quiet, reserved, clean.
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When I first saw them, I definitely felt some romantic attraction of sorts. We eventually learn he is a clean freak, yet he has no issue grabbing her hair (which probably was greasy and unclean). Also, I believe that wasn’t in the manga and Isym requested it be added? I can be wrong with that, but I think that if there was nothing planned for their relationship, he wouldn’t have requested it. From the second I saw them, they reminded me of an old married couple. The way they bickered and how Hange never felt threatened by him.
One of my favorite scenes is when Hange enters the room that Levi’s squad is in at the castle.
E: Oh, I’m not sure if I have the authority to help you.
H: Levi, what is Eren doing tomorrow?
L: Cleaning the courtyard.
H: Okay! It’s settled!
See how she doesn’t ask permission? See how Levi doesn’t retaliate? If it were anyone else, I’m sure that 1) someone wouldn't ask that and 2) Levi wouldn’t have responded that way. We have seen all throughout the anime and manga that he usually goes along with whatever she wants to do. Remember in the OVA where Levi grabs her and yells at her? She doesn’t retaliate from his tone either. She SMILES at him. Why? Because he is expressing concern for her. He is showing he cares about her (also he’s grabbing her and bringing her close again). Eventually at the end of the OVA, we see how Levi tells Hange that Erwin agreed to capture titans for experimenting.
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And when was the moment he fell for her or decided to befriend her that way that yes I will tease this person from now on… Also can someon pls tell me why Levi looks at her that way in aot 4 when hange meets the kids with him and says if they dont understand us we'll meet them and teach them. Like. What happened? Thank you !
I am not sure if there was a specific moment, but I do believe it definitely developed over time. One specific moment is the one you mentioned later on in your message, “If you don’t know something, go figure it out. Isn’t that what the Survey Corps is all about?” Levi looks at Hange almost in a surprised manner. In my biased LH eyes, it shows that Hange really is a brilliant and wonderful Commander, and Levi is appreciating her and her intelligence. In reality, it is most likely because it is something similar to what Erwin would have said as Commander. In all seriousness, her statement is entirely true. I think we can all learn from and use that statement in our everyday lives. But I think that in this moment, he possibly starts to realize how much he admires the Commander. We can also see Hange taking her own advice in chapter 126? 127? Where she forms the alliance with Pieck. She is not sure how to stop the Rumbling, so she goes to figure out how she can by talking with Pieck. As it turns out, she is successful in forming the alliance.
Overall, I think that Hange and Levi complement each other perfectly. Even if you aren’t looking too deep, I think their relationship is quite obvious. I mean… why would you ask someone to live with you if you didn’t care for them or even love them? I think that this is one of the points that other shippers bring up to break up LH (how L dislikes H or vice versa). Levi didn’t reject her. If Isym wanted him to reject her, he would’ve made him say something similar to Erwin’s “Give up on your dreams and die” statement when Erwin stated his selfish dream and was willing to sacrifice all of humanity for his selfish desire. Hange told him while he was unconscious and “not listening”, and he didn’t reject her. He says “if we run and hide, what will that get us?” and “I know you aren’t able to stay out of the action” when he sees her building the cart. We also see Levi “confess” or “respond” in 132 to Hange’s statement in 126. “Dedicate your heart”?? OMG Do not get me started on that lol.
Getting back on track, the pair is almost always together in the anime. They’re together in the manga panels when they don’t have to be. They don’t even need to speak actual words to communicate. They are the sun and moon, two wings of a bird. Levi is almost always looking at Hange in the official fanarts. We know from the smartpass AU’s that Hange says “he is a good guy” and “he doesn’t say what he means.” That’s why I think they use nicknames frequently. Four-eyes could be seen as an endearing comment coming from him. Also, Levi making Hange chocolates in the Junior High manga?!?!! Oh, yeah, its definitely to shut her up.
Im sorry for the huge tangent but I hope some of this answered your question. I enjoy reading the levihan analysis’ from other blogs. Thank you for reading if you did read this far. Have a good day/afternoon/night <3
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malfoys-demigod · 3 years
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You, Me, and Salsa Nights
Leo Valdez x Reader
A/N: It was brought to my attention that @kwilliamoon thinks my Leo fics are bomb and I love them so much for that. Enjoy, all! 
Request from them: PLS PLS UHHHH CAN I REQUEST LIKE A LEO FIC WHERE HIM AND HIS GF ARE IN THR MIDDLE OF THE NIGHT AND THEY CANT SLEEP SO THEY GO INTO THEIR BIG LIVING ROOM AND HE KINDA TEACH HER SALSA OR SMTH AND THEY DANCE LIKE THAT IN A CUTE WAY??
Word Count: 1.6k 
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After another long-lasting and draining day at Camp Half-Blood, Leo Valdez was finally done with the day. It was Friday, which meant he went through the last of many things for the weekday. He was finished with the last cabin inspection first thing in the morning, greek classes, battle training, various activities and chores, competition, and campfire sing-along, which he was glad to avoid during the weekends, now that he could have the option to dodge the favorite hobbies of the children of Apollo. 
With it being eleven o’clock in the evening, it was curfew time, and Leo felt a wave of relief the moment he crashed into his comfy single-bed. ‘Happy Friday indeed,’ he thought to himself as his eyes closed, breathing in slowly as he tried falling asleep. 
It was only a few minutes past eleven o’clock when Leo’s face wrinkled in disappointment as he frustratingly sat back up, opening his irritated eyes. What was wrong with him? Why did he feel the need not to sleep at the moment? He shook his head and laid his back against the bed again, trying to knock himself asleep once again. He closed his eyes harder, trying to tell his body that it was time to doze off. 
Not even one minute had passed when Leo’s head felt like an erupting volcano. He started grumbling curse words in Spanish as he sat back up again, placing his hand on his forehead. He looked around the room, examining all his half-siblings, who have succeeded in falling asleep unlike him, which made him envious of what they were doing at the moment. Since his body was not up for sleeping, he had no problem getting out of his steel bunk bed, actively, but slowly, to make sure he wouldn’t wake up anybody. 
Luckily for him, he was nearby the iconic fire pole of his cabin, which comes down from the second floor, the floor he was currently at, all the way to the ground floor. He grabbed onto the pole and made his way down to the ground floor, which was always unclean and messy, filled with junk most of the time. 
Leo looked around the room, checking out the workbench with overflew with scrap metal, screws, bolts, washers, nails, rivets, and a million other machine parts. He may have had the energy to get out of bed, but did not have the enthusiasm to do any work, plus, there was another chance of waking anyone up. 
He made his way to the exit of the cabin, which had a lot of gears around, as he slowly opened the door and stood by the entrance of his cabin. He wasn’t scared of getting caught by authorities such as Mr. D or Chiron, because he was a counselor! He could have made a small, white lie and defended himself by saying he thought he heard someone try to sneak out. Besides, he knew a couple of people, cabin-mate or not, who would also be seen, awake at this ungodly hour. 
Leo was leaning by the brick wall of the entrance, looking all the way at Cabin Four, the cabin covered in beautiful flowers and tomato plants, which would grow on the walls and doorway. It wasn’t hard for Leo to find his girlfriend, Y/N, who would be often seen at night, randomly watering the wildflowers and roses, which grow on the porch, as a way to serve her boredom at night. She too was someone who had trouble sleeping like Leo. 
It didn’t take long for Y/N to discover that her boyfriend was up at night as well on that day. As she was watering the flowers, she noticed a small spot of fire from the corner of her eyesight, waving in mad directions. She looked up and turned to see a figure by Cabin Nine, waving around the small spot of fire she could feel from the corner of her eyesight. 
There was a smile on her face the moment she realized that it was her boyfriend Leo, who was the one by the entrance of Cabin Nine. Y/N quickly finished watering the plants and discretely jogged from her cabin to Leo’s. Leo was opening his arms wide, as Y/N’s body crashed with his, hugging him as tight as she could. 
Leo could hear small giggles from her girlfriend, as he pulled away to see that she was smiling happily from her giggles. “Couldn’t sleep again, mi amor?” he obviously asked her, placing a strand of her hair in the back of her ear. 
Y/N nodded, “Guilty as charged.” Leo nodded as well, understanding her. “Me neither. And I even thought today was one of the most tiring days we’ve had,” he complained playfully. 
Y/N laughed at his complaint, “You probably are starting to lack cardio, Valdez,” she sarcastically suggested, “I can’t sleep because I fear I might have nightmares,” she embarrassingly said, “like last night.” She looked down to the ground, contemplating on the nightmare she experienced recently. 
Leo placed a finger on her chin, causing her to look back up at him. “Hey,” he quietly said, “Nightmares aren’t something to be ashamed of. We all get ‘em too, Y/N. Like literally, last week, I didn’t want to tell you this but I dreamt that Festus ate all my scrap metal, which caused me to wake up screaming and waking up my other cabin-mates.”
Y/N’s embarrassed smile turned into laughter as she giggled again, “And is that why I overheard Jake Mason and Nyssa Barrera complain about you last week?” Leo shrugged sarcastically, without an answer, meaning that it was definitely about that. Y/N nodded in understanding, which caused Leo to shake his head, “Anyways,” he said, “I have a proposition for you, mi amor.”
“I’m listening,” Y/N said. 
Leo turned around to open the door to his cabin. He took a hold of Y/N’s hand as he brought her inside his cabin. Y/N hesitantly pulled his hand, which made him turn around to her attention. “Leo, are you sure this is a good idea for me to be in your cabin? At this hour? I think I should get going-”
“Relaaaax, mamacita,” Leo comforted her, placing his hands on her shoulders, “I’m a counselor of this cabin. I’ve got power here.” he confidently assured her. Y/N took a deep breath and gave in, nodding at Leo, who smiled in relief. 
“Okay,” he said, “I need cardio, and you need something to help distract you from thinking about another round of nightmares, right?” 
“Mhm,” Y/N verified, “And what about them?”
Leo grinned with something on his mind as he turned around to switch on the radio he built, turning on an energetic song, but at a low volume, which was perfect for the two of them to hear. Y/N tilted her head, wondering why he did that. “What’s happening, Leo?”
A smirk grew on Leo’s face as he walked closer to Y/N, placing one hand on her waist, and another on her shoulder. “Cuera Maraca y Bongo is happening and I’m going to teach you how to dance the salsa.”
Y/N’s eyes grew wide, but she followed Leo and placed her hands on him as well. “Are you sure this is a good proposition, Leo?” she hesitantly asked him. 
“Again, relax, Y/N/N,” he reminded her, “You’re going to be a natural in this. If my mother taught a hard-headed person like me, then I can teach someone who’s unsure of whether she has the moves in her or not.”
-- 
Y/N, as instructed by Leo, rocked back on her right foot to the beat of the song. She smoothly shifted her weight from the front to back to shift her body position. Leo smiled as she cooperated and executed it well. He swung his hips slightly to accentuate the movement, which she willingly followed. 
She didn’t question how smooth of a dancer her boyfriend was, but instead, she focused on becoming somehow smooth of a beginner dancer that night. 
Once the song was finished, Leo and Y/N were still in each other’s arms, looking at each other with admiration. Leo was astonished at how quickly his girlfriend could learn the salsa, as he took weeks to months, learning from the footsteps of his own mother. There was more to learn about Y/N from his point of view. 
From Y/N’s point of view, she was staggered by how excellent of a dancer he was. She was always there when Leo would taunt others, teasing them that they were to be cautious of his ‘sick dance moves’ he kept in his sleeves. She never knew how much of a skilled dancer he actually was, and they were in fact, the sickest moves she ever witnessed. 
It was time to break the silence when Leo and Y/N coincidentally spoke at the same time, expressing, “You’re amazing.” There was awestruck in their reactions, for saying the same thing at the same time, and for bringing out the truth all of a sudden. 
Y/N chuckled, grinning at Leo, “Leo, I never knew how much of a dancer you were. This is definitely something you should show off to everyone here.”
Leo, flattered, shook his head and hands, “No, no, no, as much as I want to show this off, and believe me, I do, since I have the right to,” he teased, “YOU, my lovely girlfriend, should be the one showing off those moves- well, to the girls, definitely NOT the guys here- er- anyways, Y/N, you’re going to be natural in such a quick time, believe me. You have gifts.”
Y/N smiled, “Aw, thanks, Leo.” Then, all of a sudden, her smile turned into a surprised facial expression, as Y/N figured something out. “Leo! I think we just found a way to use up sleepless nights.”
Leo, happy as ever, leaned in and kissed Y/N’s forehead, and said, “You, me, and salsa nights.”
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alice-in-wonderart · 4 years
Note
Your writing is wonderful! I’m so happy I found your blog 😊 Could I request some nsfw hc’s for lan xichen, jin guangyao and nie huaisang? Like would they rather take care of s/o or be taken care of, who initiates first, etc. Thank you!
I'm sorry for the long wait, sweetie! It really took a while to get to the spice, but worry not, it's here to make our lives a little more interesting. Let the degenerates in us run wild~ P.S. I GET TO WRITE ABOUT JGY AND NHS CJSJXJS YAY I LOVE 'EM BOTH SM. ❤️💕❤️💕❤️💕❤️💕
Lan Xichen
Lan Xichen seems to be the sweeter, more mellow of the Twin Jades, but don't let that fool you. He is a wolf in sheep's clothing through and through. Behind that sweet smile there is an absolute beast. Part of the Lan genes, ig.
While sex isn't exactly the first thing on his mind, he's had his moments of weakness. But when you came into his life, it was a whole other story. Suddenly, he'd feel MUCH too drawn to you, his mind would occasionally wander to you, or rather - what you'd look like, underneath him, spread out on the silks of his bed, moaning his name, as he -
Gosh, he shouldn't be thinking about this in public.
"Everyday is everyday" doesn't exactly describe the humble Zewu-jun's tendencies, but he isn't any less feral. Intimacy with Lan Xichen is like fine wine - the longer the wait, the better the taste. And with his duty as sect leader, said intimacy would less often than any of you would want.
The moment you two are alone and neither is dead tired, he'd make sure to at least hint at what he desires. He'd leave heated kisses along your skin, run his fingers along your thighs, gently sliding under the fabric of your clothes. It would be pretty obvious what message he'd try to get across.
He'd usually prefer to be on top, since pleasuring you would be his number one priority. Besides, having you completely unravel underneath him would give him a sense of completion, of victory. He wouldn't be opposed to tying you up too.
He'd let you take the reigns occsionally, because of one single reason - watching you ride him is a sight he absolutely adores. The idea of you chasing your own orgasm, trying your very best to keep your balance, nails digging into his chest. Just thinking about it makes him harder than a rock.
And gosh, wrap his headband around your neck, or bite down on it and he'd lose his mind. After all - this is the highest form of intimacy, a sight for his eyes alone. You belonged to him, the way he belonged to you. (fking sap)
He may not be the most experimental per se, but he compensates with a dick worth millions and the stamina of an ancient beast. And it wouldn't take much to rile him up for more. He could easily go a few rounds and then some. He'd tire you out to a point of nearly passing out, before breaking a sweat. So much training really pays off.
Don't fuck with a Lan. Actually....fuck a Lan. Totally worth it.
His aftercare would be so sweet. He'd run both of you a nice bath to enjoy, or if it's too late and you're both tired out, he'd snuggle with you, playing with your hair, whispering how much he utterly adores you, before gradually falling asleep.
Jin Guangyao
Jin Guangyao has a specific air of gentle nobility to him, which often leads people to think he's more on the vanilla side of love-making. But boy, oh boy are they all so terribly wrong.
The boy has lived in a brothel. He's seen the difference between love-making and fucking, and he's mastered both. Sex with him is always a game of guessing, an endless array of surprises. One moment he will be kissing along your neck, gently whispering in your ear, the next he will be pounding into you mercilessly, deep and hard, until your legs go numb and you won't be able to walk for days.
He loves to be dominant and absolutely loves the thought of having you at his mercy. No, you're neither a toy, nor a possession, but he'd absolutely want to mark you up as his territory. He'd just do it in places which aren't visible to the public eye. You have dignity after all.
He'd also lowkey enjoy causing you mild pain. He wouldn't go too far, but the occasional slap on the ass, a bitemark turning blue, roughing up your insides, choking, the occasional rope, or even knife. He never goes full blown dom, but say you need him more than anything, that you miss him stretching you out and you're getting addicted to the pleasure and the pain, and he'd be on you in 5 seconds flat.
Speaking of biting, that's a kink he's more than open to admit. He adores leaving marks on that soft skin of yours. He doesn't care if you hide them, as long as you're aware they're there.
The more he trusts you, the more he'd initiate. He has a reputation to keep up, so becoming part of his private life would be difficult. Keep in mind, you have a lot of walls to climb over to get to him, but once you do - my gosh. You two are in bed ready to sleep? One look and you aready know it's gonna be a rough night. You're taking a shower? He's totally going to join and would make sure you help him clean up very thoroughly. Walking down one of the many vacant corridors in Koi Tower? He'd push you against the wall, spread your legs and make you see stars.
His movements are always carefully calculated, too. With that big brain of his he'd memorize each and every sensitive part of your body and use it to his advantage. He'd tease you to a point of begging and then deny your release until you're seconds away from breaking.
The aftercare is utterly phenomenal. He cares about you deeply, so he'd make sure you're feeling your best after one of your many sleepless nights. He'd clean you up, gently caressing any bitemark he's left, whispering sweet nothings in your ears, then dress you up in the finest silk, and depending on the time - either snuggle up with you to fall asleep, or make you some tea and fetch the two of you some breakfast. Who cares he's psychotic when he's literal perfection.
Nie Huaisang
Nie Huaisang is totally demonic and we all know it. Sex is definitely not a new subject for him. After all he owns enough porn to cover half of the Unclean Realm's grounds. And believe me, he's learned quite a bit from it. Though all the porn in the world can't satisfy his needs, thankfully you're there to lend a helping hand.
He's a 100% switch and he owns it. Sometimes he wants to roll around in bed, bratty and needly like a total pillow prince, letting you take him however you like. Other times, he'd spend hours slowly peeling off your clothes, long fingers working wonders between your legs, teasing you and exploring your body, him permanently burning his name onto your heart.
He is pretty experimental, there isn't much he wouldn't be willing to try, but if he doesn't like something, he'll never do it again, periodt. Love-making to him is a form of art and he loves exploring it to its fullest.
Teasing you in public is one of his specialties. Hidden, risqué touches, heated stares behind intricate fans, dirty promises mumbled into the skin of your neck, robes riding up or slipping off, your or his alike. Likewise, doing it in public, or more so - in a close enough vicinity, wouldn't be uncommon either. Quickies are his specialty. He can get you off nearly everywhere and he takes great pride in that. He loves the effect he has on you and how both of you seem a little more disheveled afterwards.
His biggest turn on is oral. He could spend hours buried between your legs, drowning in your desire, making you come so many times you lose sense of reality. That mouth definitely ain't just for talking. And god, does he like it messy. He loves it when you pull on his hair, thrust into his mouth, or squirm from the over-sensitivity. He loves having to pin you down and pull you towards him. He loves feeling your legs on his shoulders, he loves it all so much, he could come from that alone.
And similarly, get on your knees to suck him off and he will turn into absolute putty in your arms. He'll start off all cocky, of course. We're talking about Nie Huaisang after all. "Oh? You want a taste of me that badly? Well who am I to refuse..." But that attitude of his would fade the moment your lips wrap around him. With fingers tangled in your hair and shaky moans escaping his lips, he'd be at your mercy. Deny his release a few times and he might even beg. Might.
Of course, it never just ends with oral, unless there is absolutely no time left for more. Though even then, he'd make some time. Why work, when you have a lover to please.
Nie Huaisang ALWAYS gets hungry afterwards. So, he'd often go and bring the two of you a third of a feast to munch on. You know the cliché, where you light a cigarette after a good lovemaking? He gets food. Any kind of food. And everybody knows, that if Sect Leader Nie barges in with half a ton of food in his arms, chances are, you won't appear until much, MUCH later, a rosy pink on your cheeks and that tell tale gloss in your eyes.
Thank you for reading~
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angelictaehyun · 4 years
Text
Growing Pains
⤷ In kindergarten, he accidentally punched your nose. Thankfully, from that, a loving, caring friendship blossomed. Since then, you both had been attached at the hip, until suddenly... you’re halfway across the globe, a couple thousand miles apart.
PAIRING; yeonjun/reader
WORD COUNT; 3.2k
GENRE; singer!yeonjun, coming of age au, angst, slight fluff
WARNING; mild swearing, heartbreak, abandonment, angst
.
Honestly, five-year-old Yeonjun was nothing short of a nightmare. Though, he was seen this way only by you. 
On a sunny day, sometime in kindergarten, he sat crouched on the playground’s field, searching for a ladybug. As for you, you believed if you found a ladybug, it could grant you a wish, thus you joined the young boy in his quest. You sat next to him, mindlessly searching the grass, and when he looked up to see you... he panicked. Other children, as he was told, are unclean and gross, and that’s exactly the sentiment he told himself as he pushed you onto the grass, causing you to scrape your elbow and bleed. You couldn’t stop sniffling as a big, crocodile tear trickled down your face; he felt terrible. In the palm of his clammy hand, he held a tiny, red ladybug, and seeing you cry, pushed him to give it to you. 
"Please, just take it,” he quivered nervously. He thrust his hand in your face to present the small creature, but he ended up punching your nose. Unsurprisingly, you began full-on bawling. 
He ended up in the principal’s office, and despite his feeble attempt to explain the true incident, his nap and playground time was taken away as punishment. Shortly after, he sulked back to class, passing the nurse’s office. Through the tinted, glass window, he saw you laying on an uncomfortable cot with an ice pack held over your nose and gauze over your injured elbow. 
He was miserable. 
He decided to genuinely apologize. He despised the idea of you being upset with him, even though he didn’t know you. After a stolen pint of ice cream from the school’s cafeteria, a pleading fest, a horrendous papier-mâché, and a heartfelt apology, you decided he wasn’t the worst. As for Yeonjun, he decided he liked you and suddenly, in the blink of an eye, he was glued to your side. 
But you didn’t mind. It was hard to resist his smile. 
· ──────────────────── ·
The day you decided Jung Mina was your absolute, garbage, worst enemy, you were nine. 
On your first day back at school, you had gone to the restroom for a quick minute, and when you returned, you found she had stolen your diary to read in front of the class. Though she was quite the golden child, pissing you off to no end. Fortunately, your school’s field day neared the horizon and you decided to show her up. You wanted everyone, specifically Choi Yeonjun, to see your pure, unadulterated talent. You decided to absolutely destroy her in each event. 
You were quite the vengeful nine-year-old. 
Yeonjun, on the other hand, felt hesitant to follow through with your field-day-domination plan. Mina was just too pretty. Her hair smelled like sage and he had the biggest crush on her, unbeknownst to you. He was scared to mention his deep, dark secret, especially after you vocalized your complicated plan. You received virtually no help from him on field day. Despite that, you had won nearly every event. Unfortunately, somehow, you remained tied for champion with Mina, but the tiebreaker seemed quite simple. All you had to do was win a human-wheelbarrow race with Yeonjun, it was almost too easy. 
And in all honesty, you would’ve won had Yeonjun not dropped you in the middle of the field and trip over your body, easily distracted by an air kiss from Mina, herself. He’d been lovestruck, but he didn’t have much time to dwell, especially not when you were squashed under him. He scrambled to help you back up, hoping he didn’t completely ruin your chance but it was too late, you had long lost the race. He turned to you, meeting your unkempt ponytail, narrowed, piercing gaze, sweat, and pursed lips. He was terrified, rightfully so. You told him off in the middle of the field, him withering in shame as he took in your colorful wording. 
You chose to ignore him for a week, leaving him pouty. He decided to relive the past and create another papier-mâché, steal ice cream, and beg for forgiveness at your front door. He stood in the doorway, glancing at you with big, apologetic doe eyes, as an onset of a tear formed. Your resolve crumbled as you pulled him into a forgiving hug. As you pulled away, you admired his puffy lips which tilted into a small smile, and for the first time in your life, you felt your heart flutter. 
He never did tell you about his crush on Mina. In the end, it didn’t quite matter. 
· ──────────────────── ·
Year thirteen, you experimented with makeup. A lot of it. You tried different brands, colors, and styles. Yeonjun would be lying if he said you didn’t resemble a clown, but he kept his mouth shut and let you figure yourself out. Unfortunately, people were mean. When boys laughed at you behind your back, he made sure to drag them outside and put them in their place. When girls acted catty, he held you when you cried. When your family fell apart, he sat and devoured ice cream until your stomach ached. When you decided to join the dance team, he cheered you on at the audition. 
He was always protecting and supporting you, even when you weren’t aware. 
Lastly, when Homecoming approached, he was by your side as your unofficial date.
You both sat on the gym bleacher, overlooking your classmates who were either awkwardly swaying to the music, stuffing their faces at the snack station, or making out with each other. You regretted attending the dance, considering your boredom. though, when your watchful gaze traveled back to the couple kissing, a brilliant idea came forth.
“Junie, you know, neither of us has had our first kiss,” you observed, leaning slightly to see his reaction. He simply hummed in response, not fully listening. You continued, “... and I want to have my first kiss. I think we should have our first kiss with... each other.”
He stayed still, showing no indication of acknowledging your statement. You didn’t blame him, the music was quite loud anyway, you could barely hear yourself. You pretended you didn’t say anything and for an awfully long moment, you both stayed silent. Though that silence mixed in with a hint of embarrassment got too overwhelming, you had to excuse yourself to the restroom. As you left, he let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. He definitely heard you, but he didn’t know how to process your ask let alone go through with it. He spent so much time, deep in thought, that he failed to realize your absence. When he snapped out his pensive state, he searched the massive gym for you and found you almost immediately, but you weren’t alone. You were pressed up against a dirty, filthy wall, experiencing your first kiss with someone that most certainly wasn’t Yeonjun.
He stood frozen, feeling a bit creepish, yet he couldn’t move if he wanted to, he couldn’t even breathe. Unfortunately, you didn’t stop until a while later, forcing Yeonjun to watch every second in complete agony. Your hair was messy and you were out of breath— that sight broke Yeonjun’s heart. The other boy dragged you onto the dance floor and when you spotted Yeonjun, standing absolutely dumbfounded, you sent a big smile and cheeky wink his way.
You seemed too cheery, and though he was your best friend that should’ve reveled in your happiness, all he saw was red. He felt pure, unadulterated rage, and jealousy. He was supposed to make your first kiss unforgettable, not the other boy.
It was supposed to be him.
· ──────────────────── ·
At fourteen, you decided you didn’t necessarily like your boyfriend all too much, especially since someone else already held your heart. Sure, you felt the loss of your first relationship, but the realization that you’d loved Yeonjun for longer than you cared to admit, hurt more. Though, what hurt the most, was the conclusion that your love was likely unrequited. That night, you sobbed into the phone, and the second he heard your cracked voice, he hopped on his bike and headed in your direction.
It didn’t matter the time, he needed to make sure you’d be okay.
Naturally, he believed you were heartbroken from your breakup, so he attempted to soothe you with ice cream and cuddling. He pulled you against his chest and softly caressed your hair as you watched Titanic; it was supposed to make you feel better, but it made you feel significantly worse. He belted out the movie’s famous ballad in a feeble attempt to lift your spirit and for the first time that night, you smiled. It was a fake smile, of course, but he wasn’t privy to that. Nonetheless, he thought you looked breathtaking.
You complimented his soothing, silvery, beautiful voice — it made his heart swoon.
He was fourteen when he decided to become a singer. It was also at fourteen, he realized he was hopelessly in love with you.
· ──────────────────── ·
At fifteen, you rode the dinky, old subway with Yeonjun to a company audition — one he eventually passed and became a trainee for.
You were there the day he stepped foot into the building for his first training session. You were there when he felt like a loner amongst the other trainee, and you were there when he decided to become the absolute best, letting nothing get in the way of his dream. He set his sight high, and with that determination running through his bloodstream, he decided to express his undying love for you. So when you kissed him back, on the roof of his house, under the moonlight, after eating a gallon of ice cream, he felt like he had everything in his grasp.
After that night, you never let each other go. You stayed by each other’s side and fell more in love as the days passed by, remaining blissfully unaware of the pain the future had to offer. At least you were happy, even if that happiness was on a ticking clock.
· ──────────────────── ·
You were eighteen when you packed a bag and said goodbye to Yeonjun.
A month before high school graduation, you irrationally decided to study abroad in America. You weren’t stupid, you knew about the promise he made to himself when he was younger, his whole schtick of letting nothing stop him from his dream. You knew you were a hindrance, and it was only a matter of time before he realized that as well. You loved him with your entire heart, that much was obvious, but you didn’t want to be the thing to hold him back. He begged you to stay, he said he could have you and success, something you both knew was a plain lie. He couldn’t have you and be an idol, it was one or the other, but he was too stubborn to admit that to himself.
He drove you to the airport in a painfully silent car ride. He was angry, hurt, devastated by your decision to leave him, but you, on the other hand, felt complete and utter relief. He was so close to reaching his dream and all you truly wanted was his happiness, unfortunately, leaving was the only way you knew how to ensure it.
You cried as you said your farewell to him, but his blank face gave no indicator as to how he truly felt; he had barely spoken a word to you the entire week leading up to your departure. He stood motionless as you kissed his cheek, completely devoid of emotion — it hurt you. When you walked away, you felt heartbroken but much lighter. He watched your figure travel through security, unable to bring himself to leave. When you turned for a final glance, you noticed how broken he seemed, but you knew he’d piece himself back together — it would just be without you.
When you turned the corner, leaving his sight, he let every emotion flood his body. That night, he sobbed into his pillow, crying harder than he ever had before.
He’d lost you.
· ──────────────────── ·
You truly discover yourself at twenty. You graduated university earlier than everyone else, got your first and only tattoo, decided America wasn’t great, and moved back to Seoul. Hell, you even found your signature scent.
As much as the country itself sucked, your time in America served you well. You got your first job, experienced university life, made a friend or two, dated a lot, but most importantly, you got the degree you diligently worked for. Of course, it was hard to be away from him. You spent months holed up in your room, refusing to leave the apartment. It hurt the most when you watched his debut, seeing his face rushed every memory back to you. However, over a long period, you slowly pieced yourself back together and moved on. Eventually, you were able to think of him without feeling a sharp pang in your heart.
When you moved back, you weren’t surprised to see his handsome face plastered along the subway or on large billboards. It brought up old scars, habits, memories, but it reminded you that he was able to achieve everything he sought out to do. You, of course, knew he would, he was too stubborn and hardworking to fail; he was meant to succeed.
You just hoped he was happy.
While you were self-discovering in America, Yeonjun nearly gave up everything. He wasn’t proud to admit it, but countless times he almost bought a one-way ticket to you. However, a newfound brother held him back and kept encouraging him to move on. Not long after, he thanked Soobin for his support, had it not been for him, Yeonjun would’ve given up everything. He understood why you left and it was that knowledge that pushed him to work harder, he just wanted to make you proud, even if you were out of his life. He worked tirelessly to debut and once he did, he realized that despite everything, it was worth it.
If it was meant to be, he’d find you again.
He let his mind stray to you from time to time. He couldn’t help it, you were the love of his life. He truly hoped that wherever you were, you were happy.
· ──────────────────── ·
At age twenty-one, on a warm summer’s night, you left your apartment to head to a convenience store, searching for a pint of ice cream and an iced coffee, and maybe an energy drink if you were feeling desperate. Not a month into moving home, you had decided to pursue a master’s degree, but on a night such as this, where you frantically searched for any source of caffination just so you could complete your dissertation, you sorely regretted it.
You were met with harsh, fluorescent lighting as you entered the store but it was a welcomed relief, especially after staring wide-eyed at a computer screen for the past week. You browsed then snack aisle, too preoccupied to notice the soft jingle of the opening door. a tall, lean figure strut past your aisle, standing in front of the drink section for a bit, clearly having trouble deciding on a beverage. You made your way to the front, feeling content with your pint of ice cream, iced americano, and a bonus bag of pretzels. On your way, you stumbled into the hoodied boy and you cursed yourself because only you would run smack into the only other customer in the shop. You scrambled to pick up your scattered belonging, “Oh my God! I’m so sorry, I didn’t see where I was going, I’m such a klutz. Next time, I’ll pay more attenti—”
“Y/N, it’s you...” the soft, hushed voice cut off.
You stared at the young boy’s feet, slowly lifting your gaze to scan the rest of him, stopping at his broad chest, too afraid to look into his fox-like eyes. You knew it was him, of course, you did. It was the same deep, soothing, honeyed voice you spent your childhood falling in love with. Your breath caught in your throat as you dared steal a glance at his face. When you finally met his piercing gaze, he thought he saw the universe in your eyes. He opened his mouth in silent awe as a stray tear cascaded down his cheek. He moved toward you as if you were a flighty deer, and hovered his face closely. You thought he was going to kiss you, and surprisingly, you were quite eager despite the time apart. He pulled you into a loving embrace, so tight, you believed he’d never let go — not that you wanted him to.
That night, he accompanied you home.
Your heartfelt reunion was more than you could’ve asked for. He spent the night with you, doing nothing but catching up, laughing at past memories, eating ice cream, and slowly falling back in love. When he pressed you against your sink, he kissed you with everything he had. At that moment, you understood that despite the painful heartache, everything worked for the best.
You were truly meant to be, you found your way back to him.
Everything was complicated, unsurprising for an idol, but he saw the way you looked at him; it was a look that said you’d move every mountain and all the bright stars in the sky, just to make him happy. It was the same way he looked at you.
He told himself once, when he was a young five-year-old, that he wanted to stay by your side. He left it once, but he’d be damned if he ever left it again.
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thebiscuiteternal · 3 years
Text
“Sacrificial” Sangyao ship, Nie Age Swap, Murder, Guilt and Grief, Nightmares, Future Necromancy. Warning for abuse because Jin Guangshan is a prick.
__________
It always starts the same, with the feeling of elegant, clever fingers combing through his hair and deftly separating tresses to begin weaving.
"You two watch each other's backs out there. Yao-di, make sure my hot head brother doesn't get himself stabbed."
He covers his mouth with his sleeve to hide a smile as Nie Mingjue, his braids already fixed, rolls his eyes at his older brother. "I don't need him to hide behind."
"That's exactly the attitude I mean, didi. Don't be so eager to pick fights."
"I'll be happy to help the young master watch his tongue," Meng Yao teases, earning a scowl from said young master and a snort of amusement from his sect leader.
"At this rate, I should be expecting any minute to receive word that you two burned down Langya," Nie Huaisang says dryly as he finishes fastening a guan around the already completed braids.
Before Meng Yao can mourn the loss of contact, he and Nie Mingjue both are swept into an embrace tighter than outsiders would think Nie Huaisang could possibly manage.
"Both of you better come back safely, understand?"
"Yes, mother hen," Nie Mingjue snipes as if he isn't perfectly content being trapped in the circle of his brother's arms.
"Brat," Nie Huaisang chides fondly and doesn't let either of them go before making his little brother gag and squirm with an overly messy kiss on the cheek.
Meng Yao can't help laughing at their antics, his heart aching with affection at being included in them.
He will miss this.
The goodbyes said, he and Nie Mingjue collect their things and head for the door to go join everyone else.
When his fingers touch the doorframe, his insides go cold in a sudden wash of fear.
Don't turn around, he wills himself, don't turn around, dontturnaround, dontturnaround-
His body acts without his permission.
In the true memory, his lover had simply given him a sad, affectionate smile and waved him on. Here and now, Nie Huaisang stands before him, ashen pale, eyes rolled back in his head, a shattered teacup at his feet.
The sect leader crumples as if someone cut the strings holding him up, and Meng Yao lunges forward to catch him before he can hit the floor.
"Why?"
The question is only a figment of his mind though it sounds like it comes from his lover, struggling for air he will never breathe again.
"What have you done?"
That question comes from Nie Mingjue, who stands in the doorway and stares at them in shock, then fury. "What have you done?!"
The last thing he sees is Baxia aimed for his neck.
---
Jin Guangyao jerks awake, a sound somewhere between a gasp and a scream lodged in his throat. Every bit of him trembling, he sits up and rakes his hands through his hair in a desperate attempt to ground himself back in reality.
There are no braids, not even a crimp.
He is Jin Guangyao, not Meng Yao.
He is in Koi Tower, not the Unclean Realms.
He is dressed in the umbers and golds of a Jin, not the greens and silvers of a Nie.
He squeezes his eyes shut and bites his tongue to bleeding as he forces himself to acknowledge the last truth of his situation for yet another time.
That Nie Huaisang is dead by his hand.
---
He can't help the hiss of pain that escapes his mouth as he carefully paints makeup over the new bruise.
The new Sect Leader Nie may not have voiced any suspicions of him specifically, but it is clear that he believes Lanling Jin to have had a hand in his beloved brother's most untimely death.
Father is, of course, displeased.
Displeased that Nie Mingjue is not actually a mindless, easily controlled brute, that Nie Huaisang had managed to grind some measure of politics into that thick skull, but most of all by the fact that the man will not let the matter of his brother die as easily as his body had.
And when Father is displeased...
Jin Guangyao winces again when another bruise pulls, and his gaze is drawn to a small lacquered box carved with intricate mountains around its sides.
The rolled up scroll inside, barely wider than his palm, is one he had stolen from Nie Huaisang's room that night.
Or, not stolen. Simply claimed. The list of rules so carefully penned to the paper had been written for his sake, after all.
-"For once, I am quite serious, Yao-di. Before we take this even one more step, I need to know what you're okay with and what you aren't. I don't want to risk the possibility of hurting you, even just by accident."-
His hands clench on the dresser as he tears his eyes away from the dark wood and stares at the bruises he has yet to cover.
The longer he sits, the more the knots that have been steadily twining themselves in his heart and stomach tie tighter.
He can't help but laugh at himself because gods above, he is a fool.
He sacrificed a love freely given for a love dangled just out of reach, and in the end, he has nothing at all.
---
Of all people, it is Xue Yang that gives him a spark of hope, and not even intentionally. It's an idle comment tossed out in the midst of complaining about local corpses rotting too fast before he can get to them for his experiments.
"Doesn't the Nie sect use stone coffins instead of wood?"
"They do," Jin Guangyao murmurs without looking up from his notes.
And Qinghe is still half-frozen by winter, unlike the milder temperatures they have been experiencing in Lanling.
His heart begins to beat a little faster as the realization sinks in. It's... it's possible.
It's possible.
But there is the little nagging voice in the back of his mind that worries he will be too late. It has been over a moon since the funeral. What if-
He breathes in deep and braces himself.
He has to try.
"Change out of those clothes," he says as he gets up to begin putting their study materials away. "And gather what things you might need for a test run."
Xue Yang blinks at him, then a sharp, eager grin slinks across his mouth. "Yeah? What for?"
"We're going north."
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clownistyping · 3 years
Text
A Witch & A Hick, Chp. 3
Little Secret
This chapter is just the two learning about each other and car problems lol.
Also warning for Elizabeth offering sex as payment lol, it doesn't happen. Also I do hc Lester living in a trailer bc its extremely common and realistic tbh.
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Lester puts the truck in drive and looks at Elizabeth as he presses the brake, 
"I remember you said there's a town nearby, any chance we can go there to fix up my van?" Elizabeth asks as she pets the two dogs, 
"No need, they'll charge ya criminal prices. I can fix it." Criminal prices, he repeats in his head. 
"Oh come on, you've already done so much." Elizabeth says her face soft, 
"I insist! I can't just let them uh take ya money when I can fix it for free." He smiles and Elizabeth mirrors it. Lester gives from the brakes and drives towards his home, 
"I have a feeling there's something...more behind this." Lester gulps, 
"What made ya think that?" Lester nervously laughs and his hands tighten around the wheel, 
"That's how most men are, expect a favor for a favor. Though they often expect ya know." Lester blinks and cringes, 
"Aw that! I wasn't thinking anything like that, hell I wasn't even thinking about you doing anything." 
"I mean I'll do it." His eyes widen and he stops the truck again, 
"What?" He blushes and looks at the girl, 
"I'll get you off, I've done it before." 
"No no! I have to decline, I just ain't that kinda man." Lester nods to the woman who shrugs, he lied. He is that kinda man, he's had victims beg for safety with offers of sex. He always took it, but let's the girls fall back in the hands of his brothers. 
"Not that I don't find ya pretty!" He defends quickly and Elizabeth laughs, 
"You're real purdy, I just. I just can't." He sighs and Elizabeth notices how tense he is. 
"Thanks, for calling me pretty." She smiles, 
"I think you're real pretty too." She compliments Lester who blushes again, Lester has never talked to a stranger this long. Never had a girl call him pretty, never met her.
"Ya just sayin that cuz I'm given ya a ride." Lester chuckles and Elizabeth shakes her head, 
"Nope," she pops her P, 
"Everybody's beautiful in they're own way, just as nature intended." Lester blinks and remembers her van, the witchy collection in it. 
"Oh right, you're a witch!" Lester exclaims and Elizabeth nods, 
"How'd you know?" She teased and Lester laughs,
"How'd you even get in all that junk anyways?" Lester asks and flicks his hat, 
"It ain't junk. Don't be rude," Elizabeth smirks and Lester nods his head, Jonesey puts her head on Lester's lap. He pets the dogs head. 
"Sorry but, how did you ya know..start?" 
"My sister got me my tarot cards, she really showed me the basics of witchcraft. Our parents didn't really care all that much but never let us do it in the house. Guess that's why I moved out so early too." Elizabeth laughs, 
Lester pulls up towards a driveway of a trailer.
The trailer is a once white single wide, covered in vines and ivy. Bones hung from the porch ceiling, 
Elizabeth notices his front door was wide open, and in the yard were scatters of trash, car parts, bones and more. The windows were open but blinds were keeping the inside blocked. 
It looks like nobody lives there, as stray cats scurried under the trailer and hissed at each other.
"I'll be quick, I'll just unload your van and fix her right up in a jiffy." Lester smiles at the girl and gets out of the truck, Jonesey follows and Mac follows after her. 
Elizabeth smiles as she watches the two dogs sniff around and play, getting out of the truck her barefeet sink into the grass and dirt. She stretches, the truck wasn't entirely comfortable with Mac siting right on her. 
"Sorry for the mess, I don't really have guests." Lester says as he unhooks the van, 
"Its fine, I've seen much worse." 
"Nah, doubt it." Lester shakes his head and wipes his hands on his jeans, Elizabeth takes note of the depreciation joke he says. 
As Lester pops her hood and smoke rises from it, Elizabeth frowns. 
"That happened before?" Lester asks as he waves the smoke off, Elizabeth nods. 
"Yeah, I've had a couple engine problems. Mainly because of oil, but my light wasn't even on." 
"Yup, cars will do that. Just spring a problem on ya right as ya were doing fine." Lester grazes his hand over the engine and instantly finds the problem, 
"When's the last time ya changed the cooling fan?" 
"Never." 
"Cleaned it?" 
"Never." Lester sighs and Elizabeth frowns, 
"That bad?" He nods, 
"Your engine is busted, you're gonna need a new one." 
"Nooooo." Elizabeth groans
"Hey its okay, this happens all the time. It's just an accident." Lester tries to comfort the girl, she squats and hides in her knees. 
"Hey now," Lester gets on his knee and pats the girls back. 
"We can maybe order one from the next town over, but it'll take a while for it to come in since we're basically in the middle of no where." Lester then sits with the girl and he blinks when he hears a sob come from her. 
"Jeez darlin, it ain't anything to cry about." He says and Elizabeth looks up, her makeup more runny than before, 
"This is my karma! I know it is and- and I shouldn't be cryin-ing but-" she hides her face again and Lester stutters, 
"Aw no no, this ain't karma just an accident. Honest." 
He isn't entirely sure what else to do, seen plenty of girls cry in Ambrose. Ain't none of them cried like this. 
Crying about karma, hell if karma was real he'd be dead, he thinks and shakes his head. He gently pats the girls back as she sobs. The two dogs show up and sit around the two Mac places his head on the girls back. Pushing Lester's hand away, Elizabeth quickly hugs her dog.
After a couple minutes, her sobs stop and she looks up. 
"Im sorry Lester, I just. It's just been a lot today," she says and wipes her eyes, smudging her makeup. 
"Wanna talk about it?" Lester ask and Elizabeth looks around, noticing the sun is starting to set. 
"No, not right now. I'm just tired now, sorry for bothering you with my emotions and junk." 
"Ain't no bother at all, I'm happy to help." She shows a smile from his words as he stands, he puts his hand out and she takes it to stand. 
"I know, and thanks again. Do you think it's alright if my van stays the night? I'll try to go to another town in the morning and order an engine. I'll find a motel too." She says, trying to clean her face up from tears and makeup. 
Lester raises a brow, and Elizabeth shakes her head already knowing he'll offer his home. 
"Lester please you've already done so much for me! I promise that by tomorrow I'll be out of your hair." She says and Lester shakes his head, 
"Darlin, How about we both go into town order you an engine and when it gets here I can put it in. If you think I'm letting you sleep in that hot van for the night you're dead wrong." Lester stands up straight and crosses his arms, Elizabeth actually has to look up to see his face. 
"I've got a spare room, it's messy and mainly holds all my junk but it's got a bed, a desk and a closet." Lester says and Elizabeth takes a deep breathe, 
"Thank you," she says and Lester uncrosses his arms, 
"I mean it, without you I'd probably be kidnapped by some crazy guy. Unless you are the crazy guy." She jokes and Lester nervously laughs.
"I like to call myself unqiue." Lester jokes and Elizabeth laughs, 
"That you are friend, that you are." Elizabeth says and watches as the sun falls behind the trees.
After grabbing her needed things from the van, the two walk towards the trailer. 
The two walk onto the wooden porch, Elizabeth's hands grazing the bones hanging above, 
"Those are my people repellents, makes hikers skedaddle." Lester jokes and Elizabeth smiles, 
"They're beautiful," she compliments and Lester walks through the open door, 
"Yup, they sure are. I uh, I keep my door open so the strays can come in and relax and get away from the heat." He says and flicks on a light, it blinks a few times but turns on. 
The two are standing in the living room, the couches covered in fur and scratches. Clothes are all around and clean and unclean bones sit on the coffee table. 
But the recliner is free of fur, just a flannel on the back. 
Lester notices his playboy magazine on the coffee table and quickly snatches up the magazine, Rolling it up he laughs embarrassingly. 
"Sorry about that, again not often I get guests." Elizabeth smiles and shakes her head. From behind the two, Mac and Jonesey come running in. They jump on the couch and sit next to each other. 
"My house is there house." Lester pets Jonesy's head and smiles, putting the magazine behind the couch during this. He turns to face Elizabeth whose staring at the bones, 
"I'll show you to ya room," Lester walks to the right and opens a bedroom door, 
The bedroom filled with bones in boxes, books, clothes and random knick knacks. He quickly lifts boxes from the bed and pats the dust off. 
"My casa your casa." He smiles and Elizabeth places her stuff down, Lester stands in the doorway now. 
"Thanks again, Lester. I really appreciate it." Elizabeth puts her hand out and Lester looks down at it. It's so small, he gently grabs it and Elizabeth grabs one of the bracelets on her wrist. She brings it over her hand and onto his, 
"I can't not give you a gift." She says and lets him go, Lester looks down at the bracelet. A whole set of animal teeth with beads in between. 
"I- thank you. It's so purdy." He says and continues, 
"You're a real uh...what's it called?" 
"Freak?" He quickly shakes his head, and takes her hand again. Putting their wrists together with the bracelets, 
"Unique," he smiles, "You're a real unique girl." 
"Is it because I mess with bones and junk?" 
"Well that, and because you're real nice." Elizabeth smiles, 
"You're just as unique as me Lester." She says and the two look at each other for a second, wanting this conversation not to end but not sure how to continue. 
Suddenly from behind Lester, Mac barks. 
Elizabeth laughs, 
"It's past his bedtime, sorry he gets cranky when he's not in bed by this time." Lester let's the dog run past him and onto the bed, 
"Well, goodnight, um. Sleep tight?" 
"You too Lester." Elizabeth quietly shuts her door and Lester stares at the closed door. Jonesy whines from behind him, 
Lester turns to the dog and squats, he pets the dogs cheeks and smiles. 
"She'll be our little secret, right Jonesey?" The dog licks his face. 
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ibijau · 4 years
Note
Asdsks your Worst Engagement AU is the best!!! Especially with how nhs's superpower is Making Good Friends. I can't stop thinking about lxc making nhs cry tears of frustration at some point, maybe even during sunshot, and wwx + jc being almost as ready to throw down as with the yanli/zixuan soup debacle. This is my give-nhs-ride-or-die-friends agenda.
Worst engagement AU // on AO3
Not quite what you asked, and oops, it’s jc and jzx instead of jc and wwx, but... nhs having protective friends who love him! here we go!
not fully sure where it stands in the timeline. Either nhs and jzx are still in their short friends-with-benefits phase, or it takes place shortly after. Either way, wwx isn’t around because he’s been sent back to Lotus Piers already :D
warning for mentions of animal death
However much Nie Huaisang has decided that he gets to do as he pleases this year, it is the first time that he appears to have simply missed a lecture. When Lan Qiren mentions it to his nephew at lunch, Nie Huaisang is still noticeably absent. Lan Xichen gets the message: his fiancé, his problem to solve.
His first idea, of course, is to check with the other two Nie disciples. After some probing, they reluctantly reveal that their young master received a letter from home. He seemed unhappy about the content and sent them ahead, saying he'd join them in class. He obviously lied but they don't think too disturbed by that. Just like Lan Xichen, they have gotten used to Nie Huaisang being somewhat unpredictable this year. To them, this is just another new oddity.
To Lan Xichen, it is concerning. Whatever else has changed, Nie Huaisang is still careful not to make Lan Qiren too angry at him, which means he wouldn't skip lessons without a good reason.
More alarmed than he would care to admit, Lan Xichen decides to look for his fiancé and figure this out. He goes first to the Nie disciples' cabin, but isn't surprised to find it empty. No traces of Nie Huaisang at the Jiang cabin either, nor the Jin one, but since Jiang Cheng and Jin Zixuan were both in class that was to be expected. Having eliminated the obvious, Lan Xichen starts looking everywhere he can think of, asking anyone he meets if they have seen Nie Huaisang. The answer is always negative.
It is already mid-afternoon when Lan Xichen, just as he was about to give up, finally finds the other boy.
Lan Xichen cannot say what attracted him to this particular garden, but as he walks around trees, he ends up noticing a muffled noise that grabs his attention. In a place with so many children, Lan Xichen knows what it sounds like when someone is trying to cry without being noticed. He doesn't even need to think about it and just goes straight for the source of that noise. Lan Xichen expects to find a child, or some young junior who perhaps got scolded.
Instead, sitting on a bench, curled up so tight that his head touches his knees, he finds Nie Huaisang sobbing.
“Nie gongzi?”
The instant he hears his voice, Nie Huaisang jolts and sits straighter, trying in vain to wipe away the tears that won't stop spilling.
“Nie gongzi, what's wrong?” Lan Xichen asks, striding toward his fiancé. “Did someone hurt you?”
Nie Huaisang furiously shakes his head. “I'm f-f-fi... I'm fine. I'm. D-don't bother.”
“You don't look fine. Is something wrong?” There was a letter from home, the other Nie boys said. “Did something happen in the Unclean Realm?”
That appears to be both the right and the wrong question to ask, because Nie Huaisang starts crying harder until it seems like he might choke if he doesn't calm down a little. Lan Xichen has seen people cry before, but never quite like that, because Gusu Lan disciples learn early on that they must learn to control their emotions rather than be controlled by them. Seeing Nie Huaisang so upset is distressing, and Lan Xichen just doesn't know what to do about it.
When Lan Wangji was little, he liked to have his back rubbed if he was upset. Lan Xichen isn't sure it will work in this case, but he has to try something.
The instant his hand touches Nie Huaisang's back, the other boy screeches.
“Don't!”
Lan Xichen removes his hand instantly. Before he can try to think of some other way to help, an angry voice rises behind him.
“What's going on here?”
Lan Xichen startles and turns around, only to be pushed aside by Jiang Cheng who sits on the bench, far closer than probably necessary. Just a few steps behind is Jin Zixuan, and isn't that an unexpected duo. They weren't far when Lan Xichen spoke with the Nie disciples, maybe they became intrigued by this and their friend's absence and decided to follow him. If so, Lan Xichen really must have been distracted to not have noticed them. His uncle would be disappointed in him.
“What did he say to make you cry this time?” Jiang Cheng asks, scowling at Lan Xichen who feels slapped.
This time?
Lan Xichen won't deny that things have been less than perfect between Nie Huaisang and him, but anything that might have caused his fiancé to cry happened before Jiang Cheng became friend with him. Did Nie Huaisang complain to his friends about being left behind by his mean fiancé and his big brother every time they've had to spend time together? If so, it brings new meaning to the way Jiang Cheng so often ends up putting himself in front of Nie Huaisang when Lan Xichen approached them. He had just assumed it was Jiang Cheng trying to take responsibility for whatever mess they were that time, the same he did with Wei Wuxian, but it might have been more than that.
And it's not just Jiang Cheng, Lan Xichen realises. Jin Zixuan, who came to sit on the other side of Nie Huaisang, is calmer but still throws Lan Xichen dirty looks.
“Tell us what happened,” Jin Zixuan orders.
“It's, it's my birds,” Nie Huaisang sobs. “T-they, at home, they had c-captured a beast for the juniors to, to fight against, but it...” he pauses, a few heavier sobs escaping him. “It escaped, and it, it got to the place I k-keep my birds and it, it killed them, almost all, and those it didn't kill are wounded, and, and...”
The tears become once more too strong for Nie Huaisang to speak through them, and he hide his face in his hands. Jin Zixuan and Jiang Cheng exchange a cautious but equally worried look, while Lan Xichen carefully kneels before his fiancé and brushes his fingers against his hand.
“Nie gongzi, I'm so sorry.”
Nie Huaisang tears his hand away and glares at him.
“D-don't lie! I know you think it's stupid that I have pets!” he hisses. “I know, I, I know I couldn't have kept them anyway, not after the m-marriage, I know, I know! But they're dead, and I loved them and... even my nightingale, sh-she was the best bird ever, she was so sweet, and sh-she's dead now!”
Jiang Cheng wrap an arm around Nie Huaisang's shoulders to comfort him, while Jin Zixuan awkwardly pat his knee.
“You can visit me in Lanling,” Jin Zixuan offers. “We have peacocks in the gardens, and my mother keeps some songbirds. I'm sure she would be happy to let you see them.”
“You think?” Nie Huaisang sniffles miserably.
“At worse, you can come to Yunmeng,” Jiang Cheng intervenes, glaring at Jin Zixuan. “We can steal some eggs from a wild duck and hatch them. Wei Wuxian has done it before, it drove my mother mad that the ducks followed him everywhere for weeks.”
Through his tears, Nie Huaisang manages a weak laugh.
“He must have loved the attention,” he chuckles, wiping his tears with the back of his hand. “I'd love to see that. I hope I can come, both to Lanling and Yunmeng. It'd be fun.”
“I can even ask my mother if she'd take in the birds that you have left, after your wedding,” Jin Zixuan suggests. “That way, you'll still get to see them often. Lanling is closer to Gusu than Qinghe.”
Nie Huaisang nods, and even smiles. Next to him, Jiang Cheng rolls his eyes.
“Jin-gongzi, who knew that you could be so considerate.”
“Ah, no arguing!” Nie Huaisang pouts. “I'm still sad for now! You can argue when I'm better, for now you have to take care of me.”
Jiang Cheng frowns and removes his arm. “You! Next time, I'll let Lan Xichen console you!”
Even Jin Zixuan can't help laughing at that threat, as if all three have forgotten that Lan Xichen is right there, kneeling in front of them. He is becoming used to being unwelcome among Nie Huaisang's friends and does not mind it too much anymore, but this time it still stings. He was the first to have found Nie Huaisang, the first to have tried to comfort him, and yet... but he probably deserves that. And it doesn't matter who comforts Nie Huaisang, so long as he is comforted.
“I see Nie gongzi is in good hands,” he sighs, startling the other boys. So they really had forgotten he was there. “I really am sorry for your loss, Nie gongzi. I know how important those birds are to you.”
He turns around, already preparing himself to explain to his uncle that these three won't return to class today, and wondering how to do it so Lan Qiren won't demand a reason. This really is important to Nie Huaisang and he deserves time to grieve and friends to help him, but Lan Qiren won't understand that. He barely understood when he nephews grieved their mother, after all.
Before Lan Xichen has taken two steps, he feels a pull on his robes. Glancing behind, he sees that Nie Huaisang has grabbed the fabric and is looking up at him with an unreadable expression. It is almost painful to see him like this, his eyes reddened by tears, his face splotchy, his hair a little messy from trying to wipe his face clean. He looks more like the boy he was last year, and that's an unpleasant thought. How much pain was Nie Huaisang in back then, if he only looks that way again at the height of sadness?
“Thanks,” Nie Huaisang mumbles sullenly. “For trying.”
“I wish I could do more,” Lan Xichen replies. “Since I cannot, I will leave you with those who can, and do my best to ensure you are not disturbed today. You will have to return to class tomorrow, though. I doubt I can get you more than a day of respite.”
“Thanks,” Nie Huaisang repeats, a little more sincerely this time. “I'll have this under control by then.”
He probably will, knowing him. Lan Xichen suspects that if he hadn't found him like this, he would never have even known that some of his birds have died. It's likely that Nie Huaisang would have preferred it that way too. In fact, since he went to hide like this and didn't tell anyone, Lan Xichen wonders if Jiang Cheng and Jin Zixuan too wouldn't have been kept in the dark.
Lan Xichen really is glad that these two apparently followed him.
Maybe he can't help, but he's glad somebody can.
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terradisirene · 3 years
Text
Recently I saw an essay about how Hima’s portrayal of the Italy brothers was racist and xenophobic, in addition to being poor and one dimensional, and I couldn’t agree less.
Link to google docs version
Also although I prefer Romano I honestly think North Italy  is a interesting and well developed character  although that is easy to miss for some. Both of them are developed and shown wonderfully in canon and I continue to be eager to see more. In this essay I will show why I believe their portrayals are well done and how they are accurate to the situation in Italy as well as to it’s history and culture (That being said if you prefer a different interpretation that’s fine, there can be many different narratives)
North Italy does seem at first glance to be more talented, kind, and politically inclined. However this is not the entire story. Likewise Romano seems more rude and undesirable, but this is not everything in canon regarding him. In one strip Romano is noted to have a good deal of potential by Prussia and Germany, showing that he can be hard working and talented if he makes the effort. In the strip where Romano goes to America he also is quite confident in his cooking talents which America is actually impressed by. In another strip America even calls his cooking the best, and Romano himself is in later decades proud of his cooking, showing that yes he is good at things, and yes he is talented.
The problem is is that Romano does not have to motivation often to use his talents and work ethic. There are many reasons for this that Himaruya both states and alludes to. Firstly Himaruya states that being owned by various powers had a negative effect on Romano and that mismanagement by his rulers lead him to seem lazy since their mismanaged ruling rubbed off on him. Basically political control, corruption , and mismanagement stymied south Italy’s growth, which is true depending on the era and time period and  true regarding modern day. Also in one strip after Romano makes an effort to work hard, but all his efforts come to nothing and he eventually grows resigned. I believe this is a reflection of the fact that there is an attitude among some south Italians of resignation towards politicians and things improving for themselves,  such as shown in the song La Citta di Pulcinella (translation). Himaruya also touches on this when he notes the harmful affect the Mafia has on south Italy in his notes and even laments that fact.
Basically Romano has the potential  to be just as good as north Italy but is unable to be because of historical circumstances and due to the harmful effect of corruption. Romano’s rudeness and lack of evident kindness and cynical worldview is also a result of this as he has been at the mercy of the mafia both in real life and in canon. Hima notes his cynicism is due to the harmful effects of the mafia and how they have hurt him . Romano in my opinion has reason to be rude, he has reason to be unkind, he has reason to be cynical, the mafia continues to be a serious  issue and was even worse in the past, and thus his world view has been affected by how he has suffered at their hands. He also has to deal with the fact that he feels he is compared to north Italy, and openly  feels and says he is not good enough or talented enough compared to him. This is based in reality. The north is often seen as better than the south and indeed it is more wealthy, does have better infrastructure, x does have more industry and renown and Romano is clearly sour because of this. Himaruya showing someone reacting negatively towards adverse circumstances i think is not a negative stereotype but just showing the harmful effects of the situation of the south. Romano is not totally unkind either. Despite their conflicts he does care about his brother, he  often  shows  a lot  concern  for  Spain  and worries about him, he is kind to women generally , and has some nations he is friendly with like Japan  Netherlands and Belgium . So in sum hima does not show Romano as unkind, but as a complex being who can be both kind and unkind like many people.
The south is seen as a land of little opportunity, dirty, unclean and full of crime by the north that is true, however sadly that perception has some  perception in reality. For example many southerners leave the south to find work up north and stay there. This even happens to one of the protagonists of Elena Ferrante’s Neapolitan novels and it is seen as escaping Naples to make a better life for herself while the other protagonist  stays stuck in Naples, stunted by the lack of opportunity and male oppression that she struggles against all her life. Naples also  sadly has a serious trash  problem as does Rome, there is even a facebook page titled “Rome is disgusting” in Italian showing the trash  problems of Rome. The mafia also   dumps  toxic  waste  around Naples, leading to high rates of sickness and cancer in the population compared to other parts of Italy due to the fact that the toxic waste seeps into the ground water and the plants grown around the area.
Romano feels interior to North Italy and seems so at first glance because that is a reflection of the sad situation of the divide between north and south. However again note I said ‘at first glance’, because while many write off the south at first glance there is a richness and beautify behind that with its rich culture and the beauty of it’s people, as there is with Romano, which I note with his hidden and subtle  kindness in canon .
Romano’s Arabic blood and darker appearance is due the fact that Arabs from north Africa invaded Sicily, ruled there for about two hundred years, and left a lasting cultural legacy behind there. It makes sense he has Arabic blood, as well as the fact that some, though not all, southern Italians do have a darker complexation (some also have red hair, blonde hair, hazel eyes, or blue eyes, due to Norman influence too). However that doesn’t mean they are poc (in Italy persone di colore is used instead) and even though Romano does have some Arabic blood frankly he would not be seen as non white in Italy. I don’t really think it’s right to bring up a poc argument in regards to him given that. In addition to that Italy also has a problem regarding xenophobia and  racism in regards to African immigrants and Romani and many suffer and are marginalized there, something Romano would not experience in that regard. Romano is also noted to have a “Darker” nature, but this is again because of the mafia. He is affected and blighted by them, it’s not a reference to his coloring but to his cynicism and how they have drained him and his people of the prosperity they could have had otherwise. He is also noted to be “dirtier” not in the sense of being messy or unclean but in how his image looks, and the expressions he makes, this is a reference to the south’s rougher and more intense nature. It’s often said that the more  south you go, the more intense and more of the nature of Italy you get and indeed the south of Italy is often said to be a love it or hate it place.
There is also additional canon reasons for Romano’s bitterness and darker personality like how he feels Rome favored north Italy  (There may be historical reasons for this but I am limiting this essay to what is stated openly or alluded to more obviously in canon) and how he seems to feel haunted by his legacy. And as for other nations favoring North Italy over him, some do not like Spain and Belgium, and the the fact that some seem to is also sadly reflective of reality as many people only pay attention to or visit the north of Italy, neglecting or avoiding the south and only looking at the cities of Venice, Florence and Milan and not Palermo, Naples, or Caligari.
While the two brothers did not meet in Rome’s lifetime there is no indication this lasted until the Italian wars during the 1500′s portrayed in the canon strips . In fact during Spain’s rule of south Italy shortly after Romano is shown mentioning he is going to travel to visit his brother so they clearly had met by this point. Due to the nature of canon himaruya jumps across time periods often and so we do not always see everything that occurs within or before a certain time period. Sometimes he returns  later, and sometimes he does not, though he could in the future. As for North Italy’s reactions to his struggles people have different reactions to hard situations, and that is not wrong, not everyone will struggle in the same way. It’s not something that indicates a lack of character but just a personality facet. Not everything has to contribute to development and that doesn’t mean a uninteresting or uncomplex character. Some people are simply affected differently by traumatic events. That being said I find it interesting he seems to hold a deep fear of angering others as well as some fear of abandonment .
We will turn to North Italy again. Yes he is cute, but that is not all his character is. He is far more than that. He is kind , he is intelligent , he is noted to be good at business, he is also fashionable  and knows how to get what he   wants out of people, he also can  be a bit  vulgar sometimes. He also was good at warfare when he was a child, and if one looks into the time period of the strips it seems he lessens in his ability the longer he is under Austria’s domain. He is also good at art, he is good at cooking, and he is  even also not exactly the nicest person .
I have noticed that many people miss this but sometimes he is actually a little sneaky and mean . This is most evident with Romano actually. In one of their first appearances together when Romano asks Italy to complement him Italy outright refuses, backs away, and as a result makes Romano cry more than he had before and he flies off. In another comic Italy goes up to Romano, seems surprised he is working, and Romano is visibly hurt by this, he also seems to even doubt Romano’s ability to even do so, offering to do work for him which Romano is bothered by . Finally Italy has been shown to get outright angry at Romano at times, in one drawing he is yelling at Romano over the Venice independence referendum, saying Romano doesn’t want him around anyways . While North Italy does love his brother he clearly is not the nicest person to him at times which does little to motivate Romano to do much of anything, and sadly North Italy does not treat him as a equal really given how condescending he can sometimes be. He also is a little rude to Japan at times, like when they are in the bath, sort of hinting he thinks Japan has a small dick.  In addition to this he is pretty sneaky and sometimes even flirty in regards to Germany and is able to really get Germany to do whatever he wants, though this is more evident in World Stars  .
As for everyone liking him in the past he and Turkey were antagonistic, with Turkey stating he hated kids as a result of him (And Greece), and Austria was often angry and frustrated with   him. In modern times Belarus has shown aggression to him when he  tried to feel her chest and was visibly angry with good reason to be. The other girls didn’t allow him to do so either, but all had various reactions. From Monaco and Belgium not taking him seriously and gloating over their superior gambling and waffles respectively  to Wy giving him rather done look and telling him to buzz off, to Taiwan being upset and telling him off, Vietnam having none of it and glaring at him, to the most surprising of them all, Ukraine openly flirting with him and giving him a seductive gaze he is a little intimidated by . His relationships are clearly not predictable but are interesting and fun to see and clearly not everyone thinks he is cute or is willing to put up with him especially the girls ironically. Switzerland too shows little tolerance for Italy’s antics, but is willing to spend time him civilly as long as he behaves himself , Russia too has gotten impatient with him at times, and so has Japan. And as for France he’s a interesting case, since at times he can be brotherly towards Italy  but at the same time is also willing to tell him off, like when he actually hit him for asking for the Mona Lisa back. People like Italy, but not everyone does and even those who like him don’t like him all the time.
Frankly I think their characters make perfect sense. Romano’s anger and resentment is rooted in many things. In how people compare him and his brother, on his brother’s lackluster treatment of him, in the oppressions of the mafia, the years of being ruled over by other nations, and by poverty, neglect, and corrupt politics. North Italy for his part is frustrated by Romano and often doesn’t understand him and thinks his brother his weighing him down, though he fails to see how he is also contributing to his brother’s resignation and lack of self worth. He instead tries to work hard and do his best, while sucking up to others and making himself seem charming and pleasing to get what he wants and not make others angry at him. In fact he seems to have a deep and pressing fear of others being angry at him.
In sum I think canon does a good job with both of their characters. It shows them in a humorous nature in accordance with the genre of the strips while still leaving room for character complexity along with historical and cultural references and allusions, as well as reflecting both aspects of the historical and modern situation of north and south Italy depending on what time period the strip is set. Romano is shown to be rude, difficult, sometimes violent, and darker, however these are only traits that come as a result of the abandonment of Rome, the poverty and corruption of his land,  and the malign influence and harm of the mafia affecting him. In addition to this he is also sometimes kind, fun loving, emotional, sensitive,  a hard worker when he tries to be, is shown to be a talented cook, someone with a good deal of potential, and someone who has people who like him like Netherlands, Belgium, Spain, and Japan. On the other hand Italy is shown to yes, be kind and cute, but canon also shows him to be  flirty, sneaky, angry, resentful, intelligent, and even a little rude at times. Many people like him, but not all do, for example Belarus, or many do not like him all the time and show impatience with him like Wy, France, Romano, and Switzerland. The difficulties he has experienced have not affected him in the same way they have Romano but that’s to be expected, for the two did not go though the same things and it’s only normal for people to have different reactions to trauma, some handling it better than others. This does not denote a lack of character complexity or development but just a different kind of person and temperament. I think that this shows that both Italy and Romano are interesting and complex characters and that himaruya in my opinion has done his work and research in trying to develop them and do strips for them. He does not indulge in colorism or xenophobia but merely seeks to show the good and bad of both sides of Italy and the complex reality of the south today and in history which has it’s bad and good points.
As a side note in Valentino strip is unfinished and Germany and Italy never discuss their respective feelings or misunderstandings and Italy is less uncomfortable and more confused and worried that Germany is angry at him.
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xxgoblin-dumplingxx · 4 years
Text
Sick Little Games: Seventeen
"Babe, you okay?" Clint said, toweling off his hair and padding over to your makeup table where you're sitting and looking a little lost. 
"Yeah," you answer. You sound dejected. And not okay. But Clint knows better than to pry. Sometimes, you have to feel on your own before you can tell him about them. And after dodging your parents all week, he isn't surprised you're reluctant to go out tonight. 
He crosses the floor and sits at your vanity next to you, "So," he asks, amused, "What makeup look are we going for tonight? Emo moppet or Ethereal Fairy?"
You half shrug, "I was thinking sparkly Alien."
"Ooo," he teases, giving you a nudge and a wink, "Switching it up on me? I'm gonna be thinking I'm getting some strange when we get home."
You snort and lean against his side for a second, wanting some comfort. A little adoration. Some semblance of "okay." Clint obliges, pulling you closer. "Baby," he murmurs, "We don't have to go out tonight if you don't want to."
"But I can't hide here forever," you point out. 
Clint smiles, "You can if you want to. No one would judge you... Stirling is a gross person. What kinda person tries to picket a building full of superheroes?"
"You're all unclean, dealing with me," you murmur, looking away. Your face heats and Clint won't let you pull away. There's been a lot of reflexive shame. A lot of struggling. 
Clint snorted bitterly, "If they really believe that, then why are they trying to reach out?"
You shrug, "I'm recognizable now. I'm not their "missing" kid anymore... People are probably calling Stirling's ministry into question. Primarily since he built it on the back of "saving" kids because he couldn't "save" me."
"That's bullshit," he hissed.
You nod and take a deep breath, "Yeah. But now they expect me to swoop in and save the family ministry... denounce my evil ways. Whatever that means."
Clint smiles a little, "Well, I hope you don't. I kinda like them."
You laugh and kiss his jaw, "Horn dog," you scold, without any real heat. 
"Well, yeah," he said unrepentantly. You roll your eyes and start fussing with your makeup. He watches for a moment. He likes the transformation. It reminds him irresistibly of you getting ready for battle. It's methodical. Crisp and precise. But tonight he doesn't stay to watch you do the whole thing. He dresses and slips out, going to look for Steve.
"Hey Cap," he called, leaning on the doorframe of the kitchen. 
"Yeah?" he asked, stirring a cup of coffee. 
"Is there anything we can do to keep the picketers from harassing Y/N?"
"Legally?" Steve asked.
"Sure," Clint said.
"Not a fucking thing," Steve said, his mouth screwing up in distaste. "They filed all their permits with the city and as long as no one puts hands on her? There's nothing we can do... Legally."
Steve watched the wheels turning in Clint's head and sighed, "Look," Steve said hurriedly, "I don't like it either." He rubbed the back of his neck, "Y/N is a good girl. She's not... She's not any of the things they're calling her. For god's sake. She knits and bakes cookies. She's in bed by 11 and... well. She's a good girl. A sweet kid. She doesn't deserve this, but... The harder we fight it, the worse it's going to look like we have something to hide. And that... That's just gonna whip people into a bigger frenzy. Gain more attention."
Clint frowned, "She's afraid to leave to go out, Steve," he protested. 
Steve exhaled slowly, "I know," he groaned, "Nat's been up my ass about it too... Look. Legally? There's nothing I can do. Nothing I can be SEEN to do."
"So, if I do something..." Clint pressed.
"This conversation never happened," Steve said firmly. 
Clint smirked, and Steve said a prayer. A small prayer that whatever the archer did, at the very least, wouldn't lead to maiming. 
_________
Clint smiled when you stepped out of the elevator and whistled softly. "Sparkly Space Alien" was indeed a look. Your outfit was art. And so was your face. You were almost completely unrecognizable. At least. You would be to people that had pretended you were dead for over a decade. He steals a soft kiss and brushes and errant lock of hair out of your eyes, "You're so out of my league."
"It's fine, you make me laugh," you answer, snuggling against his chest and sliding your arms inside his jacket around his waist to be closer to him.
"Is that all?" he askes, feigning hurt.
"Sometimes you open jars," you quip, smiling up at him.
"Damn right, I do," he rumbles, "Especially after you loosen 'em up for me."
You smudge a kiss against his jaw, happy to be close to him. And in a way, glad that he isn't intimidated. That you can still tease him. That it still feels right snuggling into his arms to get warm. Or just for a cuddle because you're touch starved. You're also glad that he doesn't care if he finds you cuddled up with Thor. Or Bruce. Or both of them when he has to be away. Platonic cuddle piles had always been a thing, and Clint was okay with it. Though he liked being the first person you went to for comfort. 
Bucky leans on the pool table, scowling to himself as he cleans his nails. It's grotesquely cute. The way Clint folds you into his arms and coddles you. Giving you a moment to hide against his chest. The way you look up at him. Big bright eyes and glitter-dusted cheeks. Discordant looks. Clint's grey sweatshirt jacket and jeans. Your pop/punk/glitter alien nonsense. You look like you stepped out of a magazine and Clint? That boy looks like it's laundry day. Like he just threw on the last handful of clean clothes that he had. And not for the first time, as the protesters outside the tower start singing. As they settle in to start their candlelit vigil or whatever, Bucky wonders what the fuck Clint is actually going to do about this. Bucky also wonders why any of the people out there give a fuck if you can Abracadabra your way out of a mess. But as you walk by with Clint, tucked happily into his side, giggling at whatever he'd just said, bucky itches to snatch you off his arm and remind Clint that he'd had you first. That he'd been the first one to pin you to a bed. 
He'd seen the permissive way that Clint acted with you. The way he didn't bat an eye at you lying on the couch with people that weren't him. The way someone else casually kissing your cheek or picking you up to move you out of the road didn't phase him. He never so much as blinked at anyone, just swinging you off your feet. Like last week when the Hulk fucking took you and picked you up like a doll. Setting you on his shoulder while he scaled a goddamn building. All Clint had had to say was, "Aww man, why's he never do that for me? I gotta monkey fuck my own way up to a ledge."
"Hawkeye, not as cute to look at," Hulk chuckled, "No, make me cookies."
"Oh, come on!" Clint protested, "I taught you how to cha-cha slide."
"She teaches me how to Cupid Shuffle," Hulk answered, smirking. 
"Damn it!" Clint said, snapping, "Outfoxed again."
Nothing phased him. Nothing bothered him. He didn't even care if you had to flirt with someone for a mission. And Bucky thought that was ridiculous. If, he thought, mentally shaking his head and correcting himself. No, When you were his girl, that kind of thing wasn't gonna happen. You were gonna behave. You were gonna keep your hands to yourself.
_________
In the bar, you lean against Bruce and sigh, "Not gonna lie, I feel a little overdressed."
"You are a bit," he says fondly, brushing glitter off his arm where you'd leaned on him. "Still dodging protestors?" 
You nod and sigh, "Luckily, all the news tends to publicize is the pictures of me sweating a covered in blood or various viscera."
Bruce winced sympathetically and smiled a little, "I'm sorry, Y/N," he says, "If it helps, they can't do this forever."
"No," you agree, "But they can do it as long as Stirling's little cult keeps sending him money."
"That's gross," Bruce said.
"Tell me about it," you answer, taking a sip from your glass.
"My Lady," Thor ventured, "How did your mother find herself with this man? He doesn't seem to have any affection for you."
You shrug, "Being a single mom is hard, Thor," you answer. "Being a single mom with a checkered past is harder... so when Mama found Jesus, she found Stirling."
Thor nodded, frowning, "And then?" he pressed.
"And then... He became our new normal. He had money you know? And once they got married mama didn't have to work 16 hour days to keep food on the table. So. It didn't really matter if he said dinosaurs were the work of the devil. Or that everything we read or watched had to be "approved" to keep our minds pure. And it was... okay. Until I was 12."
Bruce made a soft, sympathetic noise and signaled for you to be given another drink. "That's when you got your powers, right?" he asked.
"Got my period and my powers at the same time... Worst fucking birthday ever," you grouse, "And I'm still shitty about it."
Thor smiles a little and sips from his glass, "That- yes, that would be bullshit."
You nod, "Not too long after that, Stirling put me and the bag my mama packed on a greyhound and shipped my ass to California... Figured no one would look for me there... Then they waited a few months, buried an empty casket, and spent over a decade cashing in all that sweet, sweet sympathy."
Bruce kissed the side of your head and sighed, "That's... That's a mess."
You nod, "Yeah. But at least I learned how to dress."
"That's true," Bruce said, laughing. You might be overdressed right now, but at least you weren't rocking unironic fanny packs messy, shapeless clothing. Your clothes actually fit you, and you looked comfortable. They all looked like lizard people who were struggling to figure out how their skin suits worked. 
"Say the word, my lady," Thor declared, raising his tankard, "And I will smite them!"
"No, smiting!" Tony yelled from across the bar, "Absolutely not!"
"He's talking about the protestors!" Bruce called back.
"Oh. Shit. Yeah. I'll help!" he says, throwing back a shot. 
You roll your eyes, "Easy boys," you caution, "Don't underestimate the power of zealots... Just... All we have to do is wait. Stirling's built himself a house of cards. And he's one stiff breeze away from losing it all."
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viria · 5 years
Note
hey viria! I was wondering if you had any tips on improving lineart? bc when I sketch the drawing looks good and all, but when I do lineart it turns stiff and doesn't look natural ;-; plus, I can't make a long, continuous line (when I do it just doesn't fit with the sketch) I end up having to make many small lines one next to another. This makes the drawing look unclean and the process is really long and frustating... do you have any tips on how to fix these issues? thank youuu!!
Hi! I feel like this transition from sketch to lineart is such a common problem! I have it too, to a certain extent, though not as bad as it was before, but it’s still there.
To avoid stiffness and to leave the natural flow of the sketch, I think it’s very very important to determine what lines do make it dynamic and expressive. What you like the most about it. Let’s take expressions for example! You drew someone happy, and on the sketch it looks great, and you can FEEL this happiness radiating and you love the way the sketch turned out. But once you start transitioning to the lineart, it loses the certain something. I guess it happens mostly because when it comes to lineart, people feel the need to make it as clean as possible, which excludes some of the motion of the sketch. As to say, when you drew a sketch it has all those crincles of the smiling eyes, and the lines looked a bit messy and expressive, the smile was a bit lopsided and some lines are harsher than the others. Once you lineart it the line variety your sketch had often disappears, and that’s one of the resons it gets more stiff. When I lineart, I always make sure to actually lineart the lines of the eyes the way they are, I zoom in heavily and follow the width of the line my sketch had! So instead of new perfect lines I make new but still a tad messy, if only a bit cleaner and more readable.
When you draw the body, don’t be afraid to either lineart or simply leave some of the lines that made it expressive. If you sketched the leg and it wasn’t really perfect but it was expressive, don’t be afraid to leave those lines that formed it. You will still put colour underneath and all those lines won’t be as noticeable, but they will be there and the lineart won’t be as stiff! That’s one of the reasons why I always leave some bits of the sketch left under my lineart in my final work. I erase the sketch, but not fully. I often leave a lot of lines on the face, and on the hands and legs.
Basically, whenever you make a lineart (on the layer above your sketch), there’s a simple way to figure out what you need for it to still have a certain something. Click the sketch layer underneath on and off. Whatever places irk your eye and feel WORSE with the clean lineart - leave at least some bits of the sketch underneath.
So, if in short, follow the width of the sketch lines in your lineart, and leave some bits of sketch underneath. You can also then merge the layers of sketch and lineart together and play with the depth of the lines. You can simply (very lightly) erase some of those that are further away from viewer, and overline the lines that are closer. That’s optional, but I feel like erasing some very lightly help to make your lineart a bit more interesting!
Now, as for the lines problem. I am also someone who actually mostly uses a lot of small strokes instead of the long fluid strokes, but I feel like for me it works? It doesn’t look too streaky. You can fake the lines by being very precise with your continuous strokes just so it looks quite clean, or just… train your wrist to make long fluid lines.
I use those on the hair, and often on the clothing, whenever I can’t get away with using my strokes. If you do digital, and you do this fluid line but it isn’t in the place you want - undo it and do again, and again if it’s necessary. One of those lines will be good enough for you to be content to leave it there. I can undo so many of the lines over and over again until I am satisfied;;But really - there is only practising to get better with it. The wrist should be trained and there’s no other way to it unfortunately. Keep practising and you’ll keep getting more and more content with your linework! 
Also the trick for drawing long lines (especially if you need them quite straight), don’t move your wrist alone, sometimes it’s necessary to move your arm. And you can put a pen to the paper, and then look at the point you need your line to end. And move your pen without looking at it, only at the point you want your line to add! I feel like it works so well so often, it was a trick one of our uni teachers mentioned and i was like WHOOAA
Pheh, I feel like that’s all i have in mind! I hope it helps
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arsonforcharlie · 4 years
Note
Get to know me uncomfortably well: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29 30 31 32 33 34 35 36 37 38 39 40 41 42 43 44 45 46 47 48 49 50 51 52 53 54 55 56 57 58 59 60 61 62 63 64 65 66 67 68 70 71 72 73 74 75 76 77 78 79 80 81 82 83 84 85 86 87 88 89 90 91 92 93 94 95 96 97 98 99 100
jesus christ
put under a cut because i want to make absolutely sure nobody reads this massive amount of information and also did you ask for EVERY NUMBER EXCEPT 69
1. What is you middle name?
marie
2. How old are you?
28
3. When is your birthday?
november 9 and i bet you didn’t even get me a present, you absolute monster
4. What is your zodiac sign?
scorpio
5. What is your favorite color?
i like jewel tones in general, my fave right now is dark green
6. What’s your lucky number?
i don’t really have one, tbh
7. Do you have any pets?
i do not, unfortunately. i hope to at some point soonish but a lot of that is gonna depend on how my situation shakes out
8. Where are you from?
st. john’s, newfoundland
9. How tall are you?
5′4″
10. What shoe size are you?
9
11. How many pairs of shoes do you own?
i’m not getting up but like 7? i need to get a new pair for working in and i will be getting rid of the ones i don’t wear so that number is in flux
already answered 12
13. What talents do you have?
none, really. but i’m alright at knitting and generally, like, figuring out how physical objects work and go together. my friends also tens to enjoy the games i run so that’s nice.
14. Are you psychic in any way?
bitch read my mind and find out
15. Favorite song?
i cannot express how impossible it is for me to pick ONE FUCKING SONG that’s my favorite. here’s 5 i always go back to, though!
my tyrant- felix hagan and the family
northbound- grace petrie
staring at the sun- mika
too much- carly rae jepsen
vampire money- my chemical romance
already answered 16
17. Who would be your ideal partner?
well there’s the mushy option in which i name names, but i resolutely refuse to do that since i’ve been informed nobody cares about how queer i am. but generally, i tend towards people i can feel comfortable around. despite me being a huge slut for interacting with people, there’s very few that project the kind of atmosphere that lets me really just chill and start thinking about trusting them.
18. Do you want children?
jesus no don’t put me in charge of a child
19. Do you want a church wedding?
jesus no, even the wedding part of that sounds less than ideal
20. Are you religious?
lmao nah
21. Have you ever been to the hospital?
yeah, a few times
22. Have you ever got in trouble with the law?
well i have a background check going through right now that’ll answer that for me but i think i have not ever been caught for my many crimes
23. Have you ever met any celebrities?
a few- i met russell crowe on a set once, and there’s a good few smaller time canadians i’ve met just, like, around
24. Baths or showers?
i usually go for showers because i am living in a place with an insufficient bathtub setup, but i have been known to enjoy a nice bath now and again
25. What color socks are you wearing?
bold of you to assume i put on socks when i’m not going out
26. Have you ever been famous?
bitch i’m famous now everyone else just doesn’t know it yet
27. Would you like to be a big celebrity?
probably not, i like the act of grocery shopping and going to shitty bars and disappearing, and i couldn’t do that if i was a proper celebrity
28. What type of music do you like?
loud and i can imagine myself being in a cool music video when i walk places listening to it
29. Have you ever been skinny dipping?
well yeah obv
already answered 30
31. What position do you usually sleep in?
usually on my side curled up around something, either a person if i’m lucky or a pillow
32. How big is your house?
the apartment is not big enough atm
33. What do you typically have for breakfast?
i don’t usually eat breakfast at all tbh
34. Have you ever fired a gun?
no but i have held one once
35. Have you ever tried archery?
once in high school gym class. i did...... bad
36. Favorite clean word?
i like words that describe the way dragonfly wings look. diaphenous and iridescent and things.
37. Favorite swear word?
i’ve always been a fan of a good solid fuck, and you can quote me on that
38. What’s the longest you’ve ever gone without sleep?
two days, i think?
39. Do you have any scars?
yep
40. Have you ever had a secret admirer?
yeah but they were prolly goofing
41. Are you a good liar?
not under most circumstances
42. Are you a good judge of character?
no, but not in the usual way. i tend to assume people have a lot more hidden motives than they do. like, obviously you don’t want to be FRIENDS with me, you just are PRETENDING for SOME REASON
43. Can you do any other accents other than your own?
yeah, as a matter of fact, i can do them ALL AT ONCE
44. Do you have a strong accent?
most of the time no, but when i’m talking to people with a strong accent from back home mine slips back
already answered 45
46. What is your personality type?
while i rarely get consistent answers, i just took the myers-briggs again and got enfp so there’s something
47. What is your most expensive piece of clothing?
i don’t own much that’s super expensive tbh, i’m broke as shit. my boots cost like 60 bucks and i stressed about that for ages
48. Can you curl your tongue?
yeah, i can do a lot with it
49. Are you an innie or an outie?
innie
50. Left or right handed?
right
51. Are you scared of spiders?
nah
52. Favorite food?
there’s so much food i love! i do have dumplings i am excited to eat tho
53. Favorite foreign food?
again, there’s so much! i am really craving a good currry today i guess?
54. Are you a clean or messy person?
a bit messy, especially with stuff that isn’t, like, a hygenic risk. if things are just out of place i don’t tend to register that as the same level of unclean as, like, food messes
55. Most used phrased?56. Most used word?
these two are ones my friends could probably answer more reliably than me. i do say i’m not a doctor tho
57. How long does it take for you to get ready?
not long, unless i’ve decided it’s a makeup day and i want to do something dumb and fancy
58. Do you have much of an ego?
i talk a big game, but not really, i’m pretty down on myself a lot
59. Do you suck or bite lollipops?
succ
60. Do you talk to yourself?
mmhmm- specifically, rehearsing conversations that will never happen
61. Do you sing to yourself?
sometimes, when i’m in a good mood
62. Are you a good singer?
absolutely not
63. Biggest Fear?
there’s a few, but i’d say the biggest one i’ve had the longest is a loss of identity of some sort. like, just not recognizing the people around me, that sort of thing. it’s gotten a bit intense recently due to events but yeah
64. Are you a gossip?
not really- like, i will gladly listen to your drama but i only really talk about it to other people if it actually affects me
65. Best dramatic movie you’ve seen?
oof jesus, i tend to watch more shitty horror movies than anything else bc i’m hot trash
66. Do you like long or short hair?
both are fine on other people, but short hair is way better for me
67. Can you name all 50 states of America?
just did a quiz and only got 40. i didn’t even remember all the ones i had been to so that’s cool. you guys have too many states anyway
68. Favorite school subject?
i was your standard weird queer kid who imprinted on my english teachers
70. Have you ever been scuba diving?
nah
71. What makes you nervous?
so many things tbh
72. Are you scared of the dark?
nope
73. Do you correct people when they make mistakes?
depends on the person and the mistake, really.
74. Are you ticklish?
fuck off
75. Have you ever started a rumor?
i don’t think so?
76. Have you ever been in a position of authority?
i’m a dungeon master, does that counts
77. Have you ever drank underage?
yeop
78. Have you ever done drugs?
yeop
79. Who was your first real crush?
my best friend in elementary school. i wanted her and i to get married to brothers so that we could live next door to each other and have sleepovers every night because i really liked sleeping next to her and doing her hair
hoo boy baby bobbie (i even knew lesbians as a kid! i grew up in such an accepting family! i have no excuse for being so repressed)
80. How many piercings do you have?
just one ear
81. Can you roll your Rs?“
not competently
82. How fast can you type?
pretty fast- i did take a test recently that came back at 68 wpm so my goal is now to get one word faster
83. How fast can you run?
fuck running
84. What color is your hair?
black with green bits, i post a lot of selfies, you know that
85. What color is your eyes?
grayish blue
86. What are you allergic to?
nothing that i know of. undefeated
87. Do you keep a journal?
i post on tumblr a lot
88. What do your parents do?
my mom works in communications- she used to work in politics but now she works for a non-profit because the staff of the party she worked for was, in her words, a “sack of vipers”
my dad was a journalist and a photographer. he was the editor for the paper back home for a long time, and then after that he did a lot of advocacy work for MS. he ran for office a few times. you know, like you do.
89. Do you like your age?
it’s alright. like, i got troubles but i accept that none of that is because i’m 28 and mostly just because i got myself into a dumb situation
90. What makes you angry?
mostly when people don’t seem to care about how their actions affect others. like, i can almost accept malice easier than a profit motive
91. Do you like your own name?
it’s not bad, and i haven’t really hit on any that i like more than bobbie
92. Have you already thought of baby names, and if so what are they?
lmao nope
93. Do you want a boy a girl for a child?
i want the child to be born to someone who is not me
94. What are you strengths?
not very many tbh i kinda suck as a human person. i am pretty good at compartmentalizing and staying kinda functional when shit goes down
95. What are your weaknesses?
all of them. specifically, i’m hard to motivate and i got depression
96. How did you get your name?
i was named after my grandmother
97. Were your ancestors royalty?
i know at least one was a criminal. i do have a kickass family crest and tartan tho
98. Do you have any scars?
they haven’t faded since i answered question 39
99. Color of your bedspread?
there’s a gray one and i have a blue weighted blanket i use sometimes
100. Color of your room?
the whole apartment is beige
5 notes · View notes
poeticallyunkind · 5 years
Text
A Marriage Proposal - Chardelia
[side note: this is a repost of a story i’ve already published because, like the idiot that i am, i accidentally deleted the original post that this oneshot was under :( sorry for the confusion!]
By the time Cordelia takes the chicken out of the oven, her kitchen looks something like a hurricane. Pots and pans are strewn about the unkempt counter space, left unclean as the blonde rushes from one dish to the next. She runs through her messy checklist for the umpteenth time. Roasted chicken? Check. Charlotte's favorite soup? Check. Red wine, which she may or may not have found in the clearance section? Check. Fancy candles, white tablecloth, and the fine china she'd "borrowed" from her mother's house? Check, check, check.
Sighing, she takes in her hard work. The dining room looks even better than she'd expected. Elegant music flows through the radio, filling the apartment with a symphony of violins and gentle notes. Their table is decked in porcelain serving platters and crystalline wine glasses— the best she could find. In the center stands a candelabra, its light flickering softly in contrast to the darkened walls. She'd even gone as far as to deck the counter space with roses from their local florist.
After checking once more that everything is set, the caterer allows herself a moment to sit and breathe. It briefly calms the nerves tugging at her stomach, but one look at the clock on the wall confirms that Charlotte will be home any time now. In a matter of minutes, she'll give what just might be the biggest, most life-changing speech ever: a proposal to the woman she's madly in love with. No pressure, right?
Wrong.
Cordelia produces a small velvet box from her pocket. A glance at the ring she'd purchased nearly a week ago makes her heart pump with excitement. Admittedly, she'd had quite a bit of trouble finding something at the jewelry store to fit her tiny budget. She ended up with perhaps the most basic engagement ring possible: a sterling silver band that holds a diamond roughly the size of a pebble. The salesperson (who would occasionally throw the blonde a disgusted glance, as if horrified that a woman was going to propose to another woman) had described it as budget-friendly, but Cordelia figures that was the polite way of saying "perfect for people with shitty salaries". She had almost feared that Charlotte would reject her because of the gemstone, but Cordelia knew in her heart that her doctor would never be so materialistic and vain.
A smile creeps onto the caterer's lips as she thinks of her partner of three years. There's not a single doubt in her mind that Charlotte's the woman she wants to spend the rest of her life with. Sure, not everything in their relationship is perfect, but she adores her doctor and couldn't imagine a life without her. Her intelligence, her smile, her loyalty and maturity, the way she looks at Cordelia as though she's a goddess... Charlotte is breathtaking in every sense of the word. Despite her nervousness, Cordelia knows that she's about to make the best decision of her life.
Just then, a subtle click of the doorknob fills the cramped apartment. Cordelia quickly crams the box back into her pocket, taking a moment to smooth out her blue blouse. As the door opens, she's blessed with the sight of her beautiful soon-to-be fiancé, who runs a hand through her hair and offers a tired grin.
Unable to wipe the anxious smile off her face, Cordelia coos a greeting. "Charlotte, baby! You're finally home!"
"'Delia, how are y—" the doctor falters, her eyes slowly trailing to the candlelit dining table. "Oh, what's all this?"
"Surprise! This is all for you!"
Charlotte raises an eyebrow. "It's not already my birthday, is it? And Valentine's day was two months ago, and our anniversary isn't for—"
"Sheesh, can't a woman do something nice for her girlfriend without any particular reason?" Cordelia interrupts, heart beating a tad faster than what's considered normal.
Before the brunette can respond, she leads her into the dining room and pulls out a chair, gesturing for Charlotte to take a seat. In the dim candlelight, her partner looks positively radiant.
"Honey, you really didn't have to go through all of this effort," Charlotte says, looking a little bewildered she sits. "You already work your ass off cooking at work, the last thing I'd want you to do is wear yourself out trying to do the same thing at home for me."
Cordelia scoffs. "Oh, shush. It was really nothing. And besides, my favorite girl deserves the best."
Okay, perhaps "nothing" is a bit of a lie, but the exhausted look on Charlotte's face suggests that the last thing she needs to hear about is the grueling time Cordelia spent on this surprise.
Hand on her hip, she leans down to give Charlotte a kiss on the cheek. It isn't until after they've pulled apart and Cordelia has already waltzed into the kitchen that the doctor speaks again.
"...Is that matzo ball soup that I'm smelling?"
Giggling, Cordelia steps back into the room with two plates of food. She sets one on either side of the table and sits across from her partner. "Yep! I made your favorites— matzo ball soup, roasted chicken and veggies, even bought some red wine. Also, there's cookies that I baked with my family's secret recipe!"
"That must've taken forever..." Charlotte trails off, gazing at her dinner with a wide range of emotions. "I really don't deserve you, 'Delia."
"Hey, don't talk like that. We're in this together, sweetheart. I deserve you and you deserve me!"
"Sure, but I still—"
Cordelia interrupts once more. "No 'buts'! We deserve each other, and that's final. Now tell me, is the food good?"
Normally, it isn't. The caterer isn't necessarily the greatest chef of all time, and more often than not her meals are considerably less than great. Sure, her food was edible... but not much more could be said about her cooking.
Maybe a homemade dinner wasn't the best idea for this, she thinks, growing more nervous by the second. Everything has to go perfectly tonight! Shit, what if she says no to my proposal because of how bad my cooking is?
Tentatively, Charlotte takes a bite of chicken. Cordelia half expects her to spit it out when she isn't looking, but surprisingly, the doctor's features light up. "Honey, this is delicious. You made this?"
Cordelia has to resist the urge to break into a happy dance, choosing instead to beam. "I did! I made it all by myself!"
"I'm proud of you, 'Delia. This is absolutely perfect— no, you're perfect."
At that moment, Cordelia becomes uncomfortably aware of the small box's presence in her pocket. Her throat goes dry. Her nerves are telling her to simply take it out and get the proposal over with, but something deep within her forbids it. She needs the perfect moment, the perfect opportunity to confess her undying devotion to the woman in front of her.
In other words, she'll need to wait a little longer to get things moving.
The couple eats in relative calm for the next several minutes, occasionally exchanging bits of small talk between bites. They talk of Charlotte's day at work, of how things are going at the catering business, of their friends— anything to keep the conversation alive. All the while, Cordelia plasters a nervous smile on her face and keeps a hand tucked firmly on her jeans.
"How's Marvin?" Cordelia asks, the topic now settled on the lives of their mutual friends. Marvin is Charlotte's closest friend, but lord knows Cordelia doesn't get to hear enough about him. "I haven't heard from the poor guy in a while."
"Oh, he's... adjusting," Charlotte offers. "I try to talk to him on my lunch breaks as often as I can. All things considered, I guess he's doing well enough."
"Poor thing. It can't be easy, living a situation like that. Suddenly coming to terms with your sexuality, having to go through with a divorce..." Cordelia shudders, the word divorce leaving an unpleasant taste on her tongue.
"I think he's lonely. He's had time to cope with everything and make amends with the people in his life, but what I think he needs is to start getting out more, experiencing things with people."
"We could always invite him over for dinner," Cordelia muses. "Or, hell, I could grab Whizzer and force them to finally meet."
Charlotte huffs out a laugh, making Cordelia's heart flutter with glee. "Now that's an idea. Putting the two most different men in the world in the same room."
"Oh, come on, they're not that different! They're both gay, for starters. Both of them like to, uh, y'know..." Cordelia wracks her brain for any similarities between her best friend and Marvin, and comes up with nothing of substance. "Okay, maybe you're right."
They both share a laugh, and soon enough their plates have been cleared. The radio drones on, filling the apartment with gentle music. The candles have nearly gone out, and the bottle of wine has long since been drained of its contents.
Charlotte rises from her seat, gently pulling in Cordelia for a hug. The two take a moment to simply be with one another, wordless as their fingers intertwine.
"Thank you again for dinner, 'Delia." Charlotte presses a kiss to Cordelia's hand. "It was phenomenal."
"Well, thank you for not hating my surprise. You're phenomenal." Cordelia grins. "I'm really lucky to have you in my life, Char."
"I'm the lucky one."
They reluctantly break from their embrace, and a glance at the clock tells Cordelia that it's growing later and later by the second. Charlotte stands in front of her, her gorgeous features shadowed by the dying candlelight. The scent of roses wafts throughout the room.
A deep breath. Then another. She allows her gaze to fall on the woman she's absolutely crazy for, who in return smiles sweetly. Another breath, and the nervousness practically melts away from her body. Somehow, she knows that she's ready to make the biggest decision of her life.
In other words, it's time.
"...Char, wanna play a game?" she quips, hand moving instinctively to her pocket.
Charlotte's face scrunches up in confusion, a deep contrast to the smile she'd had only seconds ago. "What?"
"A game," Cordelia teases. "Y'know, something you play with—"
"I know what a game is, you dork. What kind of game?"
"Well, just close your eyes and I'll explain the rules."
Her partner gives her a strange look. "Why... would I need to do that?"
"You'll see," is all Cordelia says.
Charlotte scoffs at the cryptic wording, but indeed shuts her eyes. "Alright, eyes are closed. Now what the hell are you talking about?"
"Well, the game has to be played between two people who are madly in love with each other." Cordelia swipes the box from her pocket, fidgeting with the velvet.
"Go on..." Charlotte encourages, completely oblivious to what's happening before her.
The caterer props herself on one knee, breathing deeply once more. "And one of these players has to buy a ring, right? But not just any old ring. Because this ring represents the commitment, passion, and love between both players, and connects them for life."
Charlotte becomes visibly nervous, her voice edging somewhere between hopeful and scared. Her eyes remain closed. "Cordelia, are you...?"
"And the person with the ring loves the other player dearly, and desperately wants to spend the rest of her life with her. The other player is her better half, and she knows that. The other player makes her happier than words can tell, and god, the person with the ring hopes that she makes her feel the same."
Cordelia swears she can see Charlotte starting to tear up, and she'd be lying if she said that her own eyes weren't doing the same.
She continues. "So, basically, the game goes like this. The player with the ring gets on one knee, just like this..."
Charlotte finally opens her eyes, taking Cordelia's outstretched hand and producing a watery smile.
"Tells the other player just how much she means to her..."
Cordelia squeezes Charlotte's hand.
"And asks the question of a lifetime."
Charlotte keeps her soft gaze locked firmly on the woman pouring her heart out beneath her. "God, Cordelia..." she trails off.
"Will you marry me, Charlotte?"
Before Cordelia can even stand, she's swept into a long, passionate kiss. The box falls to the floor as she combs her fingers through Charlotte's hair. The world around her falls to meaningless pieces; her fiancé is the only thing that matters. She takes it all in— the wonderful sensation of Charlotte's lips on her own, the tantalizing scent of her perfume, the way the doctor's hand cups her cheek— and knows what Charlotte can't seem to convey in her own words.
Yes, she'll marry her.
43 notes · View notes
optimist-pine · 5 years
Text
Hair Care || Voltron Crew
Prompt: What would the team do with a reader who has no clue how to style their own hair?
Featuring: Shiro, Keith, Lance, Hunk, Pidge, Allura, and Coran
a/n: I just want someone to play with my hair, can you tell?
- Shiro -
just gives him that much more of a reason to run his fingers through it
so soft
especially when it’s his metal hand
commits serious time to have Lance teach him how to take care of it
someone’s gotta
a couple of times a week you all gather near the couch
you sit on the floor and play video games with lose to Pidge
“(Y/n), sit still!”
there’s plenty of frustrated huffs coming from behind you
but Lance is patient, and really enjoys getting to teach Shiro something for once
he gets all flustered with the finished product because it’s “not good enough, there’s a loop sticking out here, and here...”
you reassure him that you’re going to bed soon so it’ll get all messed up anyways
but you can’t stop running your fingers across the braids
how’re you supposed to destroy such magnificent artwork?
eventually, once he gains more confidence, he’ll do it without Lance’s help
Lance all “look how fast they grow up” with tears in his eyes
he’ll even do it in the morning so that you can wear it throughout the entire day
“Can’t have it getting in the way during training”
“or during meals”
“or-”
“Shiro, you don’t have to have an excuse to play with my hair.”
*grumbles*
focusing on your hair becomes a big time de-stressor for him
bad day?
he’ll start undoing whatever braid is already in you hair, brushing it out slowly with his fingers
when he starts braiding it again you can feel him release a little bit of tension every time he adds a new strand
you don’t mind it much either
a free massage?
a piece of him to carry around with you all day?
not to mention if it weren’t for him your hair would be a hopeless case
but he does love it when you get out of the shower and it dries sort of poofy and funky all around
or when you haven’t done anything with it in the morning and it just sort of sticks. out. everywhere.
but it’s still so soft
nobody else asks to mess with your hair
they know it’s Shiro’s thing, and only Shiro’s thing
like doing so would be crossing a line of some sort
he has offered to do Keith’s hair
was rejected
- Keith -
not like he would’ve noticed
the boy’s got a mullet for golly’s sake
but he appreciates the fact that you aren’t too worried about it
not that it’s a bad thing to care about, but if you cared too much... eh
would never do it in public, but he finds comfort in twisting a strand around his finger when he’s tired, or stressed, or frustrated
so that happens a lot
you hum while he does so and it tends to put him (or both of you) to sleep
he’s tried braiding, but he’s gotta redo the same basic braid about five times to be okay with anyone else seeing it.
including you
even though Lance would never make fun of your hair, sometimes it’s implied that he considers the two of you to be compatible based on hair care alone
although he doesn’t believe he has a preference one way or another, during the few instances that Lance or Allura has done your hair, he has taken a few many extra glances
thinks wild hair during a fight is pretty gosh darn intimidatingly beautiful
he’s always stealing your hair ties
just so he can shoot them back at you later
like buddy, if you’re gonna take them, use them to contain your own flowing locks whydon’tcha
Maybe it’s because whenever the two of you go for ponytails, Shiro won’t stop being an annoying little brat and tugging on them whenever he gets the chance
- Lance -
at first he’s sort of offended on his own behalf
gets over that quickly once he realizes it’s just not your forte
it’s not like it’s unclean
you just can’t seem to keep it under control
then he realizes it’s pretty amazing that you don’t care one way or the other, and honestly don’t care what other people think either
like wow, he knows those things can be harder for girls, but darn, a confidant woman is his jammm
he sorta feels like he’s the insecure one in this relationship
until the one day your hair is just driving you crazy because yeah, you don’t really care what is looks like, but does it ALWAYS have to be getting in the way
but guess who can fix that
he doesn’t feel quite so upset now that he’s got a way he can help you
get ready for the full treatment
masks
oils
the fanciest styles you can imagine in the blink of an eye
you’re starting to rival Allura in the hair game
he’ll do your hair anywhere
 regrouping during a battle?
“Your hair’s a mess!”
“It’s been shoved up in my helmet this whole time. Of course it’s a mess.”
mumbles while whipping your hair into a braid in like 3 seconds
diplomatic meeting?
leans in close to whisper sarcastic comments while creating rows upon rows of braids
but when the two of you are alone he’ll braid slowly and purposefully and murmur songs his mother would sing while braiding his sisters’ hair
afterwards he’ll hold onto you tightly, running his hands over the braids he put there
he wants to braid his niece’s hair again when you all return to Earth, so he’s gotta practice, right?
even so, he does find it melts his heart a little when he catches you with a messy bun
he knows you’re trying your best
- Hunk -
he gets so excited to do your hair
he may not be the best but he does try his hardest
his favorite thing to do is to braid things into it
feathers
beads
flowers
whenever you’re on a new planet, he’s searching for things that’ll look just perfect framing your face
Coran would definitely help him collect a wide assortment of items
flowers are his favorite
he’s in love with weaving them into braided crowns
and they smell so good
and they leave you looking like Rapunzel in Tangled when all the little girls braid her hair
yeah, okay, so maybe he does leave you feeling a little bit like a Disney princess
beads are cool too
on planets that have markets he does his best to find you the most beautiful ones
he’s gotten you some to match each lion and it’s paladin
especially yellow (duh)
so many yellow beads
there’s some in your hair at all times
he doesn’t realize that he’s doing it though
but you don’t mind
some of his favorites are each hand painted with alien symbols
once he found out that they could be translated into English he was ecstatic
instead of wearing his heart on his sleeve, he’ll braid his thoughts and feelings right into your hair
when a battle is coming up:
strength
justice
perseverance
courage
honor
helping a planet get back on it’s feet:
hope
peace
kindness
unity
assurance
finally getting some downtime
joy
family
humor
rest
love
when he’s had a rough day, or just wants you to know how much you mean to him:
comfort
warmth
trust
calm
safe
he also likes to tie in feathers to give you that warrior goddess vibe
he doesn’t do that too often because he can’t handle it for very long
blushy blushy
- Pidge -
hair care?
the two of you are literally the embodiment of ‘I woke up like this’
bed head is now ‘all day’ head
Lance and Allura team up to try and tame the locks of the both of you, but it only ends in ridiculous faces and bubbling laughter on all of your parts
what’s the point when Shiro’s just gonna come and ruffle it all up anyways?
or Pidge is gonna somehow singe the ends of it with whatever new tech she’s working on?
*after the both of you take your helmets off*
Lance: “look! it’s Thing 1 and Thing 2!”
pretty sure he got tazed for that
you gave her pigtails once, and she tried to return the favor but...
let’s just say there’s a reason she works with machines
Matt would definitely rub balloons on your heads then run away
- Allura -
hope you like gemstones
if she was on Earth during the bedazzling era
ooh booy
she loves to tell you tales about Altea while she makes your hair sparkly
the task at hand keeps the bad emotions from reaching her as strong
and it’s good to talk to someone other than Coran about her home
she’s got all these ancient Altean hair products, and you bet your bottom dollar that she’s gonna use every. single. one. on you
your favorite is the one that makes your hair all shimmery in the light
but she really loves to give you a tussled wavy/curly look
the opposite of her smooth and gently flowing locks
when your hair is in it’s natural state, the mice love to make a little nest on top of your head
she’ll sprinkle seeds over your head so that they have a snack
you would protest, but she’s having such a great time, why bother?
- Coran -
among the whole assortment of ridiculous hidden talents the man possesses lies hairdressing
sure he can cut or style your hair, but his favorite thing to do is color it
he’s got some great vibrant, but temporary dyes
every week is a new color
you even got him to let you dye his hair once
and for some reason the dyes smell like fruits and flowers, and nothing like the chemicals used on Earth
the two of you’ll prank dye the others’ hair occasionally
that time the Paladins of Voltron all had hot pink hair?
that may or may not have been your fault
230 notes · View notes
deliciousscaloppine · 4 years
Text
Unclean Realm
Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4 , Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8
Little short story about Meng Yao becoming Nie Huaisang’s attendant in their childhood. The dynamic duo goes on vacation, until Meng Yao spirals hard into adolescence and Huaisang feels like he is losing a friend. 
A man has died. So he shouldn't be glad. But going away is such an exciting development. Who would think Nie Mingjue would have such a great idea. Unclean Realm being slightly more unclean than usual, it has been decided that the heir of the Nie Clan should be moved to a beautiful, secluded mansion in the woods, where he is to study for his first seminar with the Gusu Clan. It's still in Qinghe that he has to stay, but anywhere is better than their stuffy fortress. And come New Year he has to look forward to going to Cloud Recesses for the first time.
“You do know the Clan obeys three thousand rules, and everyone that goes there must know by heart each and every one of them” says Meng Yao who might or might have not have killed a man.
This is the great difficulty for someone so young as he, who has known the world only through books. It's very difficult to know what is reality and what is just an overactive imagination blending stories into dreams. In this he is not very determined to keep suspecting Meng Yao of murder. Although if Meng Yao who was so gentle, and so melancholic at times, was actually a ruthless assassin, well that would have been an exciting turn of events!
Logically, however, a fourteen year old could not subdue two men at the same time, or make them assault each other. Could he kill one in his sleep and frame the other for murder? Possibly! But Nie Huaisang was not ready in any way to part with Meng Yao's otherworldly ability to extort favors and procure snacks at the strangest of times. Plus he would need some help to memorize those three thousand rules.
“Just so you know, I think you are innocent” Nie Huaisang says on their way to this fantastical mansion he and his retinue are going to be staying.
Meng Yao doesn't say much at that. He only looks at him quizzically underneath his lashes  before uttering “Thanks.” as if he has been given some great admonishment.
“You have this classical beauty. A fair countenance for fair deeds. For that reason I won't allow you to pretend like you know more than me.”
“I study your homework with more diligence than you. Of course I know more. You memorize things at the pace of a snail. Just by virtue of that I am more knowledgeable than you.”
“Alright, Meng Yao, say you are more knowledgeable than me. Then how come you are the attendant and I am the Master?”
“That's just how fortune is.” he says with not a trace of sadness in his voice.
He has heard what others have said. The painful truth that has never been discussed between them. Meng Yao's story seems like something out of a vulgar book. So he doesn't know exactly how to say this to him. Perhaps Meng Yao would have been better to think that his father wasn't rich, or powerful. But maybe it doesn't need to be said. Maybe being together like this, walking at a grassy path through the mountains to a beautiful sun-kissed mansion in the forest with a retinue of educated and pleasant people is a statement in itself. 
                                                         ......
Nie Huaisang has never lived such luxury. It must be past ten in the morning, but no one has come to wake him. “Oh, the young Master must be so tired from the journey, my heart weeps at the thought of having to wake him up. He looks as cute as a mouse nestling in silk in his fine bedding” a maiden says outside of his rooms while the cicadas rattle and a brook resonates through the garden surrounding his wing of the house. This is the life. Now if Meng Yao could receive some sort of telepathic message to bring some breakfast.
 “Your hair is so messy, there are twigs in it.”
“I was looking at the moon on the porch and it was windy to say the least.”
“You are lucky you didn't catch a cold.”
“Don't you watch the moon, Meng Yao?”
“I like to sleep early, so I can rise early and bring the Young Master his breakfast.”
“Have you already cleaned out what you like”
“They feed you excessively, Young Master, surely you would not begrudge me a bite.”
“No, I do not begrudge Meng Yao anything. He has had such a difficult life.”
Meng Yao nudges him at that, but not really with any resentment.
“How do you make your hair like that? Is that why you wake up very early in the morning?”
Meng Yao doesn't answer. He likes to keep little silences like that.
“Will you make my hair then?”
“Wouldn't you have a maiden do it. Maidens have soft and tiny hands, they make quick work of braids and every one of them coos when she sees the poor orphaned Master. Oh! how I would want to console the poor, delicate boy, they say and flutter they eyelashes so.”
And Meng Yao flutters his eyelashes to demonstrate.
“Oh, you are the perfect illusion of a maiden, Meng Yao! You can braid my hair too if you want.”
But Meng Yao can't be convinced. At least not before he receives some honest flattery, which Huaisang doesn't know what shape that takes for Meng Yao.
“Do you know how to whistle with blades of grass in your mouth?” he asks.
“No” Meng Yao answers, and although he is very close to him, their shoulders could be touching, he seems distant like he is suddenly somewhere else.
“Do you know how to catch birds? Places like these always have interesting birds. I want to catch as much as I find.”
“You like catching birds?” Meng Yao asks. He is going to be fifteen next month, and already he looks so much older than Huaisang. It's difficult for him, like Meng Yao is pulled by some force away. As if he no longer has an interest in being a child and doing things like a child. He often sees him lately put on a sorrowful countenance, and scowl silently to himself.
“I grew up in a dirty town. All the birds were already in cages. Unless for those that were eaten by cats in the streets.”
“But you are not in a dirty town anymore. You are in a beautiful forest with me.”
Meng Yao looks at him like he really is an idiot. As if the forest that chirps and sighs with the first ray of the sun, is not here with them. As if Meng Yao really is somewhere far away and this morning when they are sitting so close on the silken quilt is nothing but a shade, or a dream about to be forgotten.
“You can't possibly know how to catch birds” Meng Yao says. “You are awfully clumsy. You can't even make your own hair.”
“If I catch you a bird, you will eat your words” he says.
Meng Yao doesn't smile, but he reaches for a comb.
Being pampered so is so envigorating.  
“A nightingale” Meng Yao says.
“Nightingales don't sing in cages. They have to have been bred in captivity. How about a blackbird! They sing sweetly too and they are easier to catch.”
“Are you going to entice it with food?”
“I am not going to reveal my secrets” Nie Huaisang says.
                                                           ....
Meng Yao who seats by the brook watches him with a sort of bored curiosity. His duties here are not very exciting. Just sleep by the Master's chamber, then bring him food and drink all day until it's time to play. As for studying there is always a headache at Huaisang's disposal. He does peruse his books sometimes. But if he is to learn everything there is in one summer what would be the point in living a long life. Then after a while, he hears some rustling. It's Meng Yao who has cut up some young reeds, and is weaving a basket. He didn't know Meng Yao could do things like weave baskets. His hands are so skilled. 
Then in the evening he gives him that basket.
“You'll need it to catch the blackbird” he says.
Clever Meng Yao.
                                                            ....
It was little frustrating in the beginning to have Meng Yao stray here and there. Without the strict masters of the Unclean Realm, he has become indulgent and rude. Only the other day he tried to get him to hike up a path with him and he refused. And what did he do? Did he pick up a book, or weave a basket, or practice swordmanship? No. All he did was perch up on a silly bridge and look at a young fisherman below catch fish. He did that all day. Looking at the young man with some strange wistfulness in his eyes. 
It was as if Nie Huaisang never existed. Only Meng Yao and his silent sighs.
But Huaisang is clever too and birds are prettier than fish.
                                                           ....
It's so early in the morning that he climbs up Meng Yao's quilt that the sun hasn't even come up. The country though is tinged in the purple glow of the retreating night. It's so pleasant and warm, but even warmer is the quilt Meng Yao sleeps under. He doesn't look cute. He looks fair. Like a dreaming deity covered in a cloud. He places the basket on his peaceful face, and it balances right between the bridge of his nose and his brow. It makes Huaisang laugh.
The little blackbird inside it flutters and the basket loses its balance, and falls down Meng Yao's face. He is so surprised that Huaisang can't help but laugh, but Meng Yao does not take it to heart. He hears the bird fluttering in its makeshift cage and rises up in an instant eager to see it.
“Wait” Huaisang says and fishes a thread out of the basket.
“Don't hurt it” Meng Yao asks with bated breath.
“Why would I hurt it?” Huaisang asks and wraps the thread around Meng Yao's finger. “I caught it for you.”
Then he opens the basket and the little blackbird, suspended by the thread, jumps fluttering right into Meng Yao's perfect hands. It must be worth to live just to see this kind of thrill overtake him. Meng Yao looks like he is holding a little beating heart, and not a bird. So overjoyed he is that with his smile, the two dimples appear again on his cheeks. He hadn't seen those in a while.
                                                         ....
Tomorrow his brother is coming. It's not that he doesn't want this visit. It's that Mingjue will most certainly want to test him on his studies. And he hasn't been studying almost at all. Which means tonight he has to study everything at once. It's not just Meng Yao there to keep him company. It's also his elderly tutor who already knows what a fiasco tomorrow is going to be, and also a couple of young maidens that fill his glass with cold sugary drinks made of pressed fruit so he can have the energy to pull this all nighter. But both the maidens and the tutor, at some point fall asleep. It's only Meng Yao, sitting perfectly across him, asking him a catalogue of questions and providing the answers as well, when Huaisang becomes too sleep deprived to reply.
“How do you remember all that! It's only an hour since we opened this book” Huaisang exclaims.
“I have seen it so I remember it.” Meng Yao remarks as if its nothing. As if trapping words with your mind is a lesser feat than trapping birds with baskets.
It's really late in the evening when his brother arrives. It's already night, so Huaisang breathes, maybe there won't be an examination today. He arrives with one or two men, and just asks for a drink and to see him- the young heir of the Nie. There is a lady to wait them, but he sends her away, asks her not to trouble herself. Meng Yao is there however, and without calling his name, he asks him to the table where they sit and makes him pour his drinks. Nie Mingjue does not bother with “How you've been?” and “Pleasant Weather”. He sits heavily across him and asks “What is rule 52 of the Lan Clan.”, “What is the difference between a ghost and a monster.” “Who was the founder of the Wen”
He knows he has read about these things, but can't summon the words to his mind. Mingjue would like to be angry. That's why he sent the lady away, but kept Meng Yao. Rude as he is, he wouldn't scold him in front of an innocent woman. The scolding begins mildly. He just remarks on how many weeks it has been since he had the peace and quiet to study and better himself. But then it turns and becomes so vicious, Huaisang wants to cry. “Is it that you want to be useless?” Mingjue asks so quietly that it feels like he is whispering it straight to his soul.
He has a few words to say himself, but before they can burst out of him Meng Yao bows deeply before his brother, his brow touching the floor.
“The Young Master studied all night to please you, Clan Leader” he says with bated breath. “Please do not be angry at him that the words do not come to his lips.” And he is crying. Meng Yao is crying. He can see his tears like jewels falling from his eyes right on the wooden floor, becoming one with the old stains. “Ask me anything” he says with a stuffy nose. “My eyes followed his pages, I have seen everything he has seen. I will prove to you that he has studied.”
Mingjue looks at a loss. He feels silly, actually. He has that same expression Huaisang has when he feels silly. He probably thinks how unbecoming of a man it is to make two boys cry so late at night, so close to bed time.
“Alright” he says at the end. “I believe you. You don't have to pour your knowledge on me tonight. We can just stay like that.”
Meng Yao lifts himself from his elegant bow, and wipes his eyes with his sleeve. He looks so handsome, like he is the prince. Mingjue doesn't see him. He doesn't really look in the eyes of his subordinates. He just offers his empty cup, and Meng Yao with those impeccable manners of his pours him wine. Huaisang could look at Meng Yao pouring wine forever now. It is the most beautiful thing he has seen.
“Isn't it a little too late for you?” Mingjue asks. “Why don't you go and lie down?”
He rises to leave. Meng Yao has such a weird look on his face. He sits still, his posture perfect as if he is a bound little bird, and looks before him like that day on the bridge, when the fisherman was catching fish. He doesn't ask him to come with him. He leaves. It's only behind the curtain that he is going. Mingjue is going to sleep next to them. He can lie on his bed and look at the ceiling, and feel them both as near as the stains on the beams above.
Mingjue stays for so long, drinking from the cups Meng Yao pours him until for some reason he laughs to himself. He has never heard Mingjue laugh. But he does, and when he turns, Meng Yao, behind the transluscent curtains smiles, a fuzzy smile like a dream.
The next morning his brother is gone. Back to Unclean Realm it is. Huaisang seeks Meng Yao's quilt, so warm in the cool morning. His eyes are wide open as if he too counts stains on the ceiling.
“If you really look at them, you'll start seeing things” he says. “This one looks like an elegant teacup, don't you agree?”
Meng Yao nods so solemnly, as if indeed he sees.
“How about that one?” Huaisang asks and points at another indeterminate shape.
“It looks like a kiss” Meng Yao says.
“How do you know what a kiss looks like?” Huaisang asks.
“It's like when you let me hold the blackbird” Meng Yao replies, but he doesn't smile like that day. He just looks like he did in the night, when Nie Mingjue asked him to pour wine.
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