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elsfairy · 1 year

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꒰⠀ARTISAN ⠀⠀⎯⎯ ⠀⠀ABBY. 🪚 ꒱

artisan: a worker in a skilled trade, especially one that involves making things by hand. a/n: hahhaaaa hey. i know nothing about Carpentry, so please if you see something that makes no sense or isn't accurate, you do not. this is literally a self-indulgent with me and my 🎀 anon bc we need carpenter!abby.

CARPENTER!ABBY HEADCANONS

✧ First and foremost, Abby loved her job. Sure, it was a job that had her using her hands for hours on end, but that was something she loved about it, constantly doing something that she genuinely enjoyed doing & didn’t have her bored out of her mind.

✧ Her entire workshop is filled with scraps of wood & all sorts of different trinkets she has made over the years from where she went to work to become a carpenter. From an oak wood bookshelf that’s been dusted over for months to a Pine coffee table that now has many coffee stains covering the surface.

✧ The first time she met you was when she was dropping off a piece that she had started for someone in the apartment building you live in. And if it wasn’t for the fact you had left your door wide open, she wouldn’t have heard your cries and pleas for help when you started failing miserably at building a bookshelf you hadn't taken out the box since it arrived 2 weeks ago.

“You know you’re not supposed to screw the handles on the inside of the door, right?”

✧ Since that first encounter with the blonde, who gave you her number the minute she had been the one to put your brand bookshelf together perfectly without having much trouble, you’ve somehow managed to buy more things that do need to be assembled and you’re finding yourself calling her every time you need help. You’re always calling Abby. probably because you also love to drool over her muscles, the way they flex when she uses a saw & just overall watching her work but still.

✧ Her giddy crush kind of way but she loves to make you little gifts. Even if you don’t ask for them, she’s always finding something you might like but you always complain to her saying that it’s too much so you refuse to let her buy you anything. So she will make it for you instead because she has all the materials for it. That makes it more special & sentimental to her, being able to make you a little gift from the heart. She will spend hours perfecting & sanding the wood to be so damn smooth that you don’t end up getting splinters. Speaking of wood, she takes a long ass time to decide on what she wants to use for a start.

“I love that you always think about me when you make something. Thank you, Abs. I’m not really that artistic like you, but I could buy you dinner… if you want, my way of saying thank you for helping me”

✧ Loves it when you turn up at her workshop. Especially if you turn up with something for her lunch. You being there plus food? That melts her heart more than you could imagine. Most of the time, you’ve got to feed her though because one, she’s either so zoned in her work or two, she has sawdust everywhere on her hands and over her pants. So feeding her is always the best option while she works. It also just gives you a long time to gawk at her. From the way, her tongue pokes out the side of her mouth when she’s focused, to the sweat coating her forehead, strands of blonde hair falling from her braid, and how the sun shines through the window right onto her toned muscles. You also just loved how gentle and caring she was toward every piece of work she decides to do, whether it be a big project or small. She was always so delicate.

“Are you done staring, Doll? c’mon, let me teach you how to do it. One day I’ll need your help”

✧ Refuses to let you call someone to fix something that is broken in your apartment. She doesn’t care if she’s busy building or making something for one of her clients, if you call her and ask for help then you can be sure that she’s going to be there within 10 minutes to fix it for you. Says they always charge you way too much for their assistance, with her she also refuses to let you pay. She cares deeply about you, and charging you is something she will never do. A literal free-of-charge service.

“Making me one of those lemonades you always seem to have whenever I’m here is how you can pay me. If you’re drinking them a lot, they must be really good Doll”

✧ Secretly adores when you watch her work. She might be zoned out, and working extra hard but that doesn’t mean she can’t feel you staring at her. You’re not as oblivious as you seem. Abby can literally feel your eyes roam over her body and face until she has to pause in her movement and look up at you with a smirk on her lips. It’s not every day you get caught staring at such a beautiful woman designing a new coffee table for you, is it? Drooling just a little at the way her hands move, how tight those pants are around her thighs, and how her muscles bulge under that shirt.

“How about, you come over here, sit on my lap and we can do this together?”

✧ Her work patterns are all whack, not eating at the right times she should be, nor sleeping at a good time but she does love the nights when she finally gets to your apartment, eyes heavy and hands hurting from using them all day to find you already standing in the kitchen of your warm place, cooking dinner with the radio playing quietly in the background and small hums leaving your mouth. She loves your cooking, and also loves to see you using that dammed wooden spoon you practically begged her to make for you because you saw it online, but was too expensive to get.

“Missed you today, you smell like home. My home..”

✧ baby will build you whatever you ask for, or help you put together something you’ve bought for your room. she loves helping you & having you ask for help.

#uhhh yeah i went to a diff planet with this #abby tlou #abby anderson #abby the last of us #tlou abby anderson x reader #abby anderson x you #abby anderson headcanons #carpenter!abby #abby anderson x reader

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fexalted · 5 months

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2, 6 (for platonic and/or romantic relationships), 16, 30!

late responding (on account of my brain trying to explode out of my skull yesterday) but ty for the questions rose!! ❤️

2. How many fics did you work on this year? (They don’t have to be finished or published!): i think five? was trying so hard to only work on current wips this year and then whoops i started two new fics in the past couple months (it's okay i'm having fun)

6. What ship(s) captured your heart?: spent the first 3/4 of the year enamored with ekurei (insert that one post that's like "everything is about ghosts, except ghosts, which are about love"), and then out of nowhere my brain decided it was time to return to my star trek roots and latch onto mcspirk, so now i'm rotating those old men in my brain 24/7 (they're a perfectly balanced set. do NOT separate them)

16. What were you go-to writing songs?: honestly i really don't like listening to music while i write shdkshfjd i need total silence or like, white noise / a fan / rain. here's some Yes songs i'm pondering for fic title inspo tho (bc i can and will force my fave band upon anyone who will listen)

on the silent wings of freedom (on the darkest night so painful / do you hunger for love / midst the torture of being one)

and you and i (a clearer future, morning, evening, nights with you)

holy lamb (and all we need to know / is that the future is a friend of yours and mine)

awaken (wish the sun to stand still / reaching out to touch our own being / past all mortal as we / here we can be)

30. What’s something that you want to write in 2024?: i have an extremely self-indulgent star trek fic idea that i think may only appeal to me and my inner 14-year-old self, to the point that i feel a lil self-conscious talking about it bc it is projection to the highest degree shfjsfjdkfjk it's about mccoy reconnecting with his daughter joanna (specifically, her finding out that he was dying of an incurable disease and had decided to fuck off to live out his life on an asteroid or whatever (he got better don't worry). she calls him up like "what the fuck. you're coming home so i can yell at you about it." he brings jim and spock for moral support)

year in review fic writer ask meme (will gladly answer more asks for this if anyone wants to send any 👀)

#fex replies #anistarrose #when i say it's projection just to be clear it's not a 1-to-1 with me and my dad obviously #but the frustration is there. the distance is there. the fucking off to live on an island is there #i love him very much. sometimes i want to shake his head like a snow globe. these are often both true at the same time

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incorrect-ikevamp-quotes · 4 years

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May I request GHJPU for Sebastian? Sebby needs more love :D (eee sorry if any of this overlapped or its too much, have a cookie for your troubles 🍪)

DID SOMEBODY SAY LOVING SEBASTIAN HOURS!?!?!?!?! FERAL EYE GLEAM

Bless your heart!!! Sebastian has found a new and very dear place in my heart as of late, I would be delighted to offer my thoughts!!!!! :D (your cookie offering has been accepted with the utmost glee 🍪, I hope my humble writing efforts will bring you equal joy, lovely~💖💖💖)

G = Gifts (How does he feel about gift giving? What are his habits when it comes to this?)

Awwww haha, baby boy Sebby is honestly a very observant and reliable kind of S/O, I think. He will notice even the tiniest of changes in MC’s expression--the slightest shifts in her temperament. As a result of his attentive nature he has an easy time deducing the things she might like, always makes a mental note of where her eyes linger. Is there a classic she once loved in her time being published for the first time in their era, on display at a bookstore nearby? Noted. Does she hover near shops filled with self-care products--things like scented candles or lotions or bath salts, things she considers indulgent luxuries? Noted. Is there an outfit that caught his eye in a boutique, something he thinks would complement her complexion perfectly? Noted.

The thing about Sebastian is that his gifts will be heartfelt, timely, and devastatingly thoughtful. Whether something small or something lavish it will always be precisely what she needs/wants, and she can sense the loving care he put into finding the perfect gift.

H = Holding Hands (When/how does he like to hold hands?)

Honestly? Sebastian has spent the better part of his life alone. His circumstances weren’t the worst; for all that he’s lost in his life he never went hungry, lived comfortably. But...that doesn’t change the fact that his life has been fairly devoid of meaningful human contact. Even in college, friends and close colleagues were hard to come by. The few people he did develop budding feelings for he always gave up on long before it could become any kind of substantial relationship. He was always the type to admire from afar, never really felt worthy of the people he liked.

It was MC that was the first to reach out to him, and for the first little while in their relationship she will be the one most naturally inclined to reach for him. He isn’t really used to having someone by his side like this, somebody who would be delighted to hold his hand--who wants to be close to him. It’s always a shock when they go grocery shopping and he just feels her fingers wrap gently around his. She blushes a little and says something about not wanting to get separated, but it’s clear what her real motivation was.

After those first few months, it becomes much more natural for him to reach for her hand when they’re traveling somewhere together or when they’re alone. He likes to intertwine their fingers, loves the way they fit against his perfectly. His shyness wears off after a while, and it’ll be rare to see them together without them holding hands--unless they’re cooking or at work.

J = Jokes (Does he like to joke around with or prank her? How?)

Do you know how cats have their eyes all narrow thin pupil but then they go REALLY REALLY round? That’s Sebastian. I tend to refer to it as “Silly Time Mode Engaged.”

Now then, his kind of joking is very dry and very deadpan. It’s subtle and immediate, so if you’re not attuned to it it can be easy to miss. That, or people just look at him weird because they don’t quite get the connection he’s making and/or the delivery feels off because his facial expression doesn’t change at all, completely flat. That being said, one of his all time favorite things to do is to say something absurd or nigh histrionic (which tends to be uncharacteristic of him) and wait for the confused head turn/startled laughter to hit. He will make puns and play on words all the time--he puts his academic knowledge to good use.

“I swear when I first met you I was convinced you were an AI.” “Alexa taught me everything I know.” He’ll bow. “Oh? Do I have competition, in that case?” “Your speakers are suboptimal (he pokes her freckles), but you possess what Alexa lacks.” “And that would be?” He’ll gather her close, smiling against her lips. “My heart.” :D cutest robot I ever saw uwu

Bonus bc I have a problem: “Is stealing hearts in Alexa’s programming? Just to be safe, of course.” “I think it’s safe to say it isn’t within the parameters of her design--but that doesn’t mean you’re out of the woods just yet.” cue sounds of tickling and laughter

The other way Sebastian messes with MC is that he is an ENORMOUS tease in the bedroom. He’s very much the kind of lover that prefers to tantalize and draw things out; a long, slow seduction that will render MC immobile from the pleasure by the end. The promise of a kiss is almost always only a whisper of the feeling he intends to drown her in. Remember that Sebastian’s stoicism belies a nigh inhuman ardor and self-control. He’s more than willing to leave her wanting in order to fully capitalize on that desire later at night.

P = Pet Names (What does he like to call her?)

Other than her name? HE DOESN’T AHAAHAHAHAHA Just kidding of course, but given where he comes from pet names between couples aren’t...really a thing…(take it up with Japan, I Was Today Years Old, my sappy romantic ass would never survive)

The funny inverse of this though is that he does NOT fuck around with people that try to call MC pet names. When Arthur Tries It™ he canonically goes all steely saccharine, openly telling the others they’re together. So none of that “luv” or “doll” business, he will not have it (he won’t fight the purebloods on it because 1. they’re more like doting grandfathers than anything and 2. Sebastian does not have a death wish). If MC has a nickname of some kind, then I could see him using that or adding his own spin on it with a great deal of affection c:

U = Upset (How does he act when she’s upset?)

Whether he was the cause or not, Sebastian has a single modus operandi when his beloved is upset (and to anyone who’s upset really) and that is to offer gentle reassurance/an apology. He is very, very sensitive to the feelings of others and really takes it to heart when someone isn’t feeling well. That being said, he won’t always be overt about his concern--he’s more the type to do little things that offer constant support/reminders that he’s there for them.

If it’s something more serious, he will do everything in his power to minimize the harm done and sooth the MC. His attempts to comfort her will be tender, muted, and consistent; prolonged hugs, doubles his offering of sweets, makes her favorite foods, gives her a relaxing bath salt to use--anything that he knows for certain will coax her lips up into a smile. He’s the type to freely offer space for her to figure things out if she needs it, but he will also be watchful; he won’t let things escalate if she needs externalized support to heal (bc lbr some problems we can’t solve alone ;-;).

His other go-to method is to offer distractions in any capacity that he can. Will offer to teach her a new recipe, or find a new type of flower he wants to plant together, or make up some kind of project he needs help with. Sometimes he’ll genuinely need the help, but most of the time he does it for the express purpose of getting her mind away from negative things and focused on him/the present. It’s hard to dwell on upsetting things when you’re body is physically demanding something else from you, even more so if it’s a fairly complex task. She’s known to be very dutiful; she’ll be so focused on doing a good job she’ll forget the sadness/irritation for a bit and the intensity of the emotion might ebb slightly.

If the issue is lighter, he’ll probably just cuddle/tickle her back to fighting spirit, pressing kisses wherever he can reach until she starts giggling. In these instances he prefers to hug her from behind, a reminder that she doesn’t have to face anything unpleasant or unnerving all on her own; he’ll always be there to hold her steady whenever she needs him.

And rest assured, this man is always gathering data to optimize his comfort capabilities. He is incredibly adaptable, and will always be watching her reactions closely to adjust his strategies.

#asks #ikevamp #ikemen vampire #ikevamp sebastian #ikevamp sebas #ikevamp headcanons #ikevamp hcs #ikevamp akihiko #these were really fun to write!#sebby's route was a delight #he definitely climbed up my personal rankings for sure #ikevamp has given me so many delightful surprises #it'll likely still be a wait for the english crowd tho so i hope this tides you over lovelies~#not incorrect quotes

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ranger-kellyn · 3 years

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I wanna write about them now, but I'm still nervous of making them out of character..

Current mood is, I wanna draw AND write. :/

(this ended up being WAY longer than i thought it would so bear with me)

i know all about that, so allow me to share a quote with you from my favorite book. It's said twice, but the first part is a little long, and potentially spoils some things with what's in between the dialogue pieces so

Page 334, Cemetery Boys by Aiden Thomas

"You ready?" Julian asked, a curious look on his devastatingly handsome face. "No," Yadriel confessed, his voice tight. Julian grinned. "Do it anyways."

A special shoutout to my best friend, @dinosrawr, for finding the pages for me, introducing me to that book in the first place, as well as being the reason i bring this quote up in the first place!

i can't remember what I was stressing over. some art project, probably. worrying i wouldn't be good enough at it/it would be bad/etc etc etc

they hit me with the "do it anyways" line, and something about it was just. enough. to kick me in gear. and while SURE, it meant something extra because we both had read the book, it's something I try to remind myself of when I'm stressing over if something will be "enough".

Do it anyways.

And if it comes out "bad"? It comes out "wrong"? If they're not Perfectly In Character? (and i KNOW how dismissive this sounds and so i apologise for that) It's not the end of the world.

Painters can get paint all over them. Ceramicists can get covered in clay (trust me!! i at least have a degree in that one!!!) In my 2d drawing classes I'd come home covered in charcoal.

Writers seem to be held to a weird high standard. like. Get messy. Write something bad. Write something self indulgent.

Just in my purah/robbie fics alone? -Age of Calamity Epic??? I'm adding so much stuff it's self indulgent and i KNOW I have moments where I'm going to be going against the "balls to the wall confident"-type Purah is. I'm gonna say that she has insecurities. Insecurities that maybe her character wouldn't even actually ever have in a million years. But the fic will make ME happy, and if someone else happens to enjoy the fic as well?? excellent. -Autumn In Goldcliff?? this fic started kind of as a joke, because it's literally using the Hallmark Christmas Movie Formula. That being said, you better BELIEVE they will be 10 kinds of OOC. I'm still excited to write it. -From The Ashes?? oh my god. this is my "all three sheikah end up deaged" AU. you better BELIEVE i'm throwing all kinds of self indulgence in here. -Long Story Short? Big City Hallmark. In this one. Robbie is a country boy from a teeny tiny farming town. Purah is the new CEO of the company that oversaw his parent's farm, and she lives in the Big City. We're romanticizing the Big City in this one bc i'm so tIRED of how hallmark romanticizes small towns (lived in one growing up- not as glamorous as hallmark makes u think) -Untitled College AU? nothing but self indulgence baeby -Press Restart?? this was one of my very first purobbie fics i outlined. in this one, robbie ends up deaging himself as well, post calamity being sealed, and Grante ends up reuniting the two. -Untitled ANGST: Angst Angst Baby -Lick The Frog?? (tentative title) this is a sex pollen fic. I don't need to say any more than that to tell u how self indulgent that is. -Untitled Mindswap Fic??? This one is literally just a JOKE to MYSELF. I lAUGH when I work on this one. This fic is for nobody but myself. -Untitled What Could Have Been fic?? title alone is self-indulgent, and i literally cOULDNT handle the angst so i'm working on two separate "alternate endings" for this fic. -Untitled "5 Times She Almost Saw His Eyes and The 1st Time She Actually Did"- you inspired this one, anon. -Untitled P&R showing off their fossil monstrosities to Impa: a direct quote from Impa, [about Arctozolt] "You ruined a perfectly good pokemon is what you did!! Look at him!! You gave him hypothermia!!" Clearly, I'm only barely taking that fic serious because I would rather have FUN

So like. TL;DR

Be self indulgent. Write the fic YOU wanna write.

To end this with another "quote" that I try to remind myself when I'm stressing over the quality of my work:

“From failure you learn, from success… not so much.”

It's all so much easier said than done, and there's PLENTY of days I have where I can't even get myself to take any of my own advice.

But I believe in you, anon <3

If nothing else, I'm here to support you work <3

#cemetery boys is one of my absolute favorite books ever #and meet the robinsons is one of my favorite movies ever #so like #it's a good thing they both have great quotes #anonymous #you were probably not even remotely asking for all that but i just like to Talk #(i say as an introvert who in fact does NOT like to Talk-talk lmaO)

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chanluster · 3 years

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aaa hello again this is paris au loving anon with another long message 😂💕 I read your reply and I’m glad Im able to make your week like Paris is so so good!✨ I actually stumbled on your fic while searching for Chan fics (I’m a baby Stay 😂 I just got into them recently and Chan melts my heart 🥺)

I read the FWB au first which I also love very very much. I really love how you write Chan and his relationship with y/n. The story had the perfect mix of everything 😭 I found it super cute how they have a number rating system and that’s how they communicate through it 😂 I found the first part where they talked about Hyunjin the funniest bc of how it was written like amg Hyunjin— 😂😂😂 and the confusion and realizing of feelings the roller coaster ride 💕 op you really took my Chan loving heart for a spin 🥺

I think your writing is so versatile. I have yet to read your other fics but I’m still processing the emptions Paris gave me. Maybe bc you took the same actor playing the lead role but you gave him a different breath of life; you reinvented him and I’m here for that! 😭💖 You wrote the same Chan but his soul is different in a very good way. It’s like the same face, the same name, but the soul is different yet I fell for him anyway 🧎🏻 he’s mysteriously charming and the relationship has such a deep past I can’t help but wonder what happened to them and came up with many possible theories (my main one is that maybe Chan is just a figment of the imagination. A ghost from a love that is still being grieved after y/n has her fall from grace like she woke up from being distracted from that grief but whether Chan is real or not is a mystery— like idk Im like “is Chan alive?” 😂😂😂) like the feeling of that longing because Chan was a safe haven; the sunshine in the dark abyss but not knowing if it’s just a dream or not—I felt that while reading 😭 I’ll wait patiently for any updates or even for crumbs 🥺 take all the time you need to write because your writing is super worth the wait and even if you decide not to continue it, I’m still super happy you shared that story 💖💖💖 tysm! It’s such a great work of art I sing praises 💕 (also cupid/psyche is my fave so 😌💗💗)

if reincarnation au was a thing but through fics then this is a good example of it. Soulmate reincarnation au with Chan but it’s through reading different fics 😂 also I hope you dont mind if I make fanart of it soon 🥺💖 Paris!Chan has been slipping in my dreams lately 😂 - 🗼 anon (ah shall use this symbol if it hasnt been taken yet 😂)

OH MY GOFODNSJAKS?!?!?’fkkswkkw

:£/&/&:&/&/@/@@::@:@@:@: IM :&:&/@2@/9@//@@/ HOLD ON HOLD ON LEMME MAKE A CUT SO OTHER PEOPLE DONT GET ANNOYED BY MY RAMBLING BELOW

OMG DARLING FIRST OF ALL, THANK YOY SO MUCH??? THIS ENTIRE MESSAGE LITERALLY MADE ME TEAR UP IN THE CAR MY MUM GOT ANLITTLE WAS LIKE ??? 🙄🙄🙄 here she goes again 💀💀 BUT THIS ASK IS SO THOUGHT OUT, SO GENUINE AND I DONT EVEN KNOW WHAT TO SA Y?’cnv. LIKE YOUVE REALLY SNATCHED MY WORDS AND I THANK YOU FOR IT 😭😭😭

thank you for reading 10/10 too omg 😭😭😭 I admit that was very self indulgent because Chan 😍😍😍🙏🙏🙏I completely understand how he took your heart this man is the love of my life he asks me one thing it is done I am his humble ragdoll 🧎‍♀️and HELP I really put SLANDER on hyunjins name as if I sent those bullying claims ✋💀 but I’m really glad u enjoyed reading it !!

honestly it makes me so happy that you understood the mysticism behind Paris! I like writing stupid shit but this particular project was so deep to my heart because I pulled THRU W the research, the details, every single little tidbit so it’s accurate to the times, and the construction of chans character was defo quite hard so knowing you understood him so perfectly just 🥺🥺🥺❤️❤️❤️❤️AND THE THEORIES SCREAM IM LOVING IT SO MUCH !!! truthfully I defo would have pursued that path but I won’t make it too complicated that I can give to you😼thank you so much for waiting so patiently I understand that I haven’t been good at all W the Paris updates 😭😭 after hyunjin Bridgerton au and the collab I will defo start redrafting because I have planned it all but I just need to write 💔💔 also not you calling my writing versatile PLEA S S E E E MY HEART IS DOINF SUPER EDM SHIT RN MIROH IS IN SHAMBLES 🏃‍♂️🏃‍♂️💨💨❤️❤️❤️❤️(and same here the story of Cupid and psyche is beautiful and I am a STAN!!)

DARLING ???? I WOULDNT MIND ???? AT ALL SVREAM??!;!,!,& PLEASEE PLEASE LET ME KNOW WHEN YOU CREATE THIS FANART I WOULD LOVE TO SEE THE RESULTS 🥺🥺🥺🥺 oh my god the way I’m so excited YOUVE GOT ME SO UNFER UR CONTROL ALREADY !!!! omg I love u sm anon thank you thank you thank you !!!

#asks #🗼 anon #this wasn’t taken dw 😼😼#BUT ANYWAY #YOU HAVE LITERALLY #MADE MT ENTIRE MONTH #AND I HAVE EXAMS THIS MONTH SO IMAGINE UR IMPACT #I DONT THINK INCAN THANK YOU ENOUGH FOR ANMESSAGE THIS HEARTFELT ABOUT A STORY I NESRLY DISCARDED #IT MEANS THE WORLD #IT TRULY TRULY DOES #PLEASE KNOW THAT THIS FEEDBACK WILL STAY WITH ME FOR A LONG TIME 🥺🥺🥺🥺#I LOVE YOU SO MUCH 😭😭😭❤️❤️❤️

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ari-shipping-stuff · 4 years

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Nuts and Volts Week

Day One

Modern AU

———

never thought this would be my first post lmao

just note, if any of the characters in these oneshots are ooc, please don't hurt me bc it's definitely my first time writing them

Please enjoy my self-indulgent fic—

———

Arthur Watts never liked his office.

It was just… so basic. Too open. Maybe a little bright. And he had much preferred the basement. The dark, cool basement with no plastic plants, no ugly blue wallpapers.. No windows for peeping. His office, meanwhile, had all that. It wasn't even soundproof. But nonetheless, what Arthur did like was his job.

From the whirring of the gears, the clinking of steel, even when it would sometimes combust in his face. It didn't change the fact that he'd devoted his entire life into creating these machines.

Now they're going to be taken from him.

He forced his bag shut.

Ripped apart.

He gritted his teeth.

Handed over to that amateur Polendina in Atlas. His creations. Given away in mere parts. All because he testified. Now it was more than his machines he was going to lose.

Carelessly, he tossed his bag onto the glass table, hoping it would break.

He began pacing.

His shoes clacked against the perfectly polished white tiles. Cleaned this morning for the next person to work in this godforsaken office.

He stepped over several boxes, feeling too drained to even push them aside. It was as if his chest was hollow; empty. His heart gripped in the lonely hands of nothingness.

Arthur was usually a fast-paced man. Quick and efficient. Never too tired to miss any deadlines. He'd been first to finish his project out of all four competitors, giving him an extra month in the office to fiddle around and make random machines for fun. He was just so certain he'd be chosen.

But fate decided to be stupid and cruel. All his poor machines were going to take the fall now.

If there was one sentimental bone in this man's body, it would be there for the sole purpose of his work. He hated to admit he didn't want to part with these boxes or this room.

His earpiece buzzed.

"Would you quit pushing? I'd prefer you gone sooner rather than later, Arthur."

"Only my friends call me that, Cinder."

"And you have none. What's your point?"

Cinder Fall may have been an insufferable know-it-all and should have been fired instead of him, and a million different retorts could be days here. But Arthur didn't have the energy.

When she spoke again, the smirk was evident in her voice.

"I'll be sending a colleague to quicken the process. Toodles."

Arthur's jaw clenched. If only he could march into her office and give her a piece of his mind. Or a smack. Or a bullet to the mouth. Anything to shut her up, really.

There was static. Then the sound cut. It was just him and the boxes again.. And her camera in the back of the room.

Arthur sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. He opened a drawer in the corner and pulled out some masking tape. Call it childish, but knowing that Cinder was watching him was.. Unnerving information.

Reaching towards the camera, he tore out a good amount of tape and covered the camera. His earpiece buzzed again.

"Arthur Watts—"

"Don't worry, Cinder, dear," Arthur smirked, falling back down to his regular height. "I'll try not to steal anything."

With that, he pulled the earpiece out and left it on the table. He turned back to the boxes.

There was a man in the doorway.

Arthur jumped back, eyebrows raised.

The man was tall, leaning leisurely against the doorframe. Stemming from his head was a long, dark braid. He fiddled with it in one hand. His smile was small, but tight and pulled back. Like he was suppressing laughter.

Arthur raised a brow, straightening himself.

"Callows," he said uncertainly. Like trying out a new word. "Right, why are you smiling?"

The grin broke across his colleague's face. He pushed himself off the doorframe, shrugging.

"Oh, nothing." he replied.

"And just how long were you standing there..?"

"Oh, not long. But.." he shook his head. "Just long enough to witness your little work of child's play there."

"I—"

"Personally, I would've broken it."

Arthur blinked at him.

Tyrian Callows was a mystery. All everyone knew about him was scarce common knowledge. Arachnologist. Entomologist. Herpetologist. Probably a serial killer in his free time. Possibly lived in his office. He might've been as work-obsessed as Arthur.

Despite this, they weren't friends. This was the first time they've spoken. Arthur found the timing of it all hilariously ironic. But now that they have finally met, he only had one thing to say—

Tyrian was an oddball. He pranced around the room, practically a child playing hopscotch. What, with his wild grin and the little 'ooh's and 'ahh's he made as he glanced into each box.

Arthur closed the door, clearing his throat.

"Cinder sent you, yes?"

"Mhm!"

Arthur blinked at the pure oddity of a man as he made himself comfortable on the glass table. Cross-legged, even.

And he remained seated.

Staring forward. Smiling calmly.

Blinking.

As you do.

Arthur cleared his throat.

"Yees, ol buddy, old pal?"

Arthur blinked.

"And you're just going to sit there."

"Apparently."

"What?"

Tyrian seemed to find this funny. He laughed. Loudly, but genuinely. Not entirely hysterical, but amused. Arthur didn't like that.

Cinder was amused when she taunted him. Ironwood was amused when Pietro Polendina stole what was his. Salem was amused as she fired him for speaking the simple truth.

Amused was mocking. Taunting. Condescending.

Tyrian doubled over, clutching his stomach. He seemed to laugh harder as Arthur glared at him, clenching his fists until there was blood between his fingernails. But he held up a hand, as if to say 'wait, don't murder me yet.'

So despite how good it would feel to punch his apparent psychopath, he decided to wait.

After a few whole minutes of laughter, it finally managed to cease. Tyrian let out a contented sigh, as if stuffed from a hearty meal.

Arthur crossed his arms and tapped his good impatiently.

"Well?" he raised an eyebrow.

Tyrian perked up, confused for a second.

"Wh-what? Oh. Right. That." he chuckled.

He uncrossed his legs, propping his elbows on his knees. He even steepled his fingers, for God's sake.

"You see, Dr. Watts, I get it."

Arthur waited.

".. You.. Get it."

"See, now you're getting it!" Tyrian clapped his hands together joyfully.

Arthur furrowed his brows at his colleague. Was this a joke? If he stared at Tyrian like this long enough, would he laugh it off, apologize, and finally explain properly? Maybe even turn sane as a bonus?

But when he started to smile and stare again, Arthur found his answer.

He didn't like it.

"I have had enough of you, Callows!" he snarled, jabbing a finger at Tyrian's chest. "Just give me a straight, coherent answer! If not, you're free to leave. It's clear you've no intention to help anyways."

Tyrian slumped, a blank expression on his face.

"So.. You don't want to cherish the time you have left with your machines?"

Arthur's posture faltered. He lowered his finger slightly.

"Wh-what?"

Tyrian shrugged, fiddling with his fingers.

"Well, I'd assumed you loved your job as much as I love mine," he paused, tapping his index fingers together. "So I also assumed you wouldn't want to part with your little machines for as long as possible."

Arthur put down his finger.

"I mean, I wouldn't want to part with Larry." Tyrian continued.

"Larry."

"My oldest scorpion. Lost his tail four weeks ago. He'll be gone in seven months without it now."

"Oh.."

"Yeah."

".. I'm sorry about that."

"Thanks. No need."

Now it was Arthur's turn to stare.

Tyrian shrugged twice. After a pause, he spoke up again.

"Fall, Rainart, even young Emerald and Mercury all have ulterior motives to accomplish once they joined this laboratory. But.. You and I, we genuinely enjoy what we do here. You love making your little machines, and I love my little venomous animals down in the basement."

Arthur hated to admit it. He really did. But somehow, this hysterical man-child really did get it.

He finally relaxed, deciding to speak up this time.

".. Venomous animals, you say?"

"Mhm!"

"Interesting. I don't suppose you could tell me all about it while we slowly.. move out the boxes?"

"Really?"

"Yes, of course. But please, do take your time."

Tyrian hopped off the table, saluting joyfully.

Arthur picked up the box closest to his feet, a smile playing on his lips. He turned the knob, about to open the door. But then he frowned.

"Wait, you own the basement?"

———

aight, so.. if you liked this, yay! bc this is gonna be the universe i'm writing in for the rest of the week!

thanks for reading my trash—

- ari

#nuts and volts week #arthur watts #Tyrian Callows #Modern AU #shipping week

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likeshipsonthesea · 5 years

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okay so legit one of my first-ever nurseydex posts was this one right here and while i still agree with/hc parts of it i have to admit it’s a bit outdated for how i see nurseydex’s relationship now so i thought why not make a new “why i ship nurseydex” post three years later to explain my own rambling understanding of them??

so, anywho. imagine a dex-- back when he was just will-- growing up with this huge weight of expectation around him, about every aspect of his life-- expectation of what a man ought to be, expectation of what a student ought to be, a worker, a son, etc-- and despite what he wants and feels, striving to meet/exceed this expectation to satisfy his parents and make them proud and be who they want him to be. like, following his ma around when she does chores might be fun and helpful, but a man is supposed to be doing the dirty, heavy work, no baking or doing laundry (at least that’s what his brother says) and from the time he’s little he knows that college means money and they don’t have that, but education is also very important and college is how he gets a better life for him and his family, and so from elementary school he’s studying his spelling words and times tables and striving to be the best student he can be because scholarships and respect and expectation. and yeah, maybe there’s other expectations, around who he can and cannot like, and maybe that doesn’t always fit the way he thinks it’s supposed to, and he allows himself little indulgences knowing one day that he will do what is expected of him and make his parents happy, and the crushing weight of that-- of knowing what the future will force him into-- has him frozen between the need to be what he’s supposed to be and the want to be free, and these warring ideals within his own mind leave him grasping and uncertain and--and angry at everything (family, town, society, himself) for putting him there to begin with and then-- and then-- he goes to samwell

MEANWHILE there’s a little nursey, small and surrounded by smiling parents and nannies and love, and somehow, despite it all, he’s anxious. it’s his brain, probably, but at four, nursey doesn’t know anything about brains, all he knows is that his parents aren’t home and maybe that’s his fault and before he can understand how jobs work and how their importance doesn’t outweigh his parents’ love for him, he’s sitting at home wondering how to be better, how to be enough to keep them there, how to be good. and he excels in all his classes, gets bored sitting there with all his fancy private school kindergarten work finished on his desk, and his parents bring him to the doctor’s thinking it’s an attention disorder and he gets diagnosed with anxiety. at eight. and his parents-- mama gets mad (and nursey hasn’t yet learned to distinguish anger at the world and anger at him) and mom becomes focused, ready to fix it (not realizing, really, how nursey sees it as a need to fix him) and dad is maybe the best, he just buys some puzzles and makes hot cocoa and sits with nursey when the world gets too tough, and still nursey leaves thinking i’m a burden, he has to take the time to do this, i’m a burden, and he grows up with the idea that he has to be good, can’t be broken, has to pretend to be perfect even if he isn’t otherwise his parents will be sad and it will be his fault, and it works (until it doesn’t) and he thrives (until he doesn’t) and everything is happy and perfect and wonderful (until it isn’t) and things break apart and nursey decides perfection is impossible to fabricate but pretending to be chill, pretending to at least be okay is enough, and so he moves on with this veneer of okayness and this mess of anxiety and apprehension and worry underneath and it’s such a delicate balance he somehow manages to handle until samwell

(under the cut bc, well. it got a little long. oops?)

and there it’s like-- they’re both at the perfect point to just completely explode one another. nursey sees this walking ball of seemingly together person and pokes at it, this kind of self-projection thing really, trying to break the outside and see the mess within, and meanwhile dex looks at nursey and sees someone perfectly content with everything in life and turns on every probing question like it’s an attack, and maybe it takes a few terms-- maybe all of their frog year-- to start seeing past the cracks. maybe a few of nursey’s questions poke at places more sensitive than he’d meant to see, and maybe dex calls nursey out on things his anxiety has whipped out of control, and maybe after they lose the playoffs and dex is angry and violent and not enough and nursey sees that-- feels the ache of imperfection, too-- and somehow the knowledge that he’s not alone makes it better? and suddenly he wants to make it better for dex, too? and so they go into the summer after frog year with the beginnings of an understanding and things are-- tentative, but they know how to deal with fragility better than most, and it survives the break, survives the infrequent texts and tangential group chat conversations

and sophomore year they have rooms across the hall from one another, randomly. they walk together to practices, because why not, and tag along on team breakfasts (dex is a morning person, nursey is not, dex likes being helpful, nursey likes making it to bfast before holster eats all the waffles) and maybe they start talking-- actually talking, not barbs and banter and chirps just a bit too sharp to laugh at. it’s like an actual conversation for the first time since they’ve known each other, and c’s ecstatic and their hockey’s great and things are going wonderful.

until one of them catches feelings.

it doesn’t quite matter which one of them-- maybe dex falls in love with the way nursey gestures with his hands too much as he talks and how he waxes poetic about everything, but mostly nature and books and how it feels to smile without knowing it, and maybe dex falls in love with the way he feels around nursey, like he could say anything and nursey wouldn’t- he’d judge, maybe, because nursey likes doing that, but it would never be maliciously, it would always be out of a want for dex to grow, learn, be himself more. and seriously, that wouldn’t be hard to fall in love with

or maybe nursey falls in love with the weird bits of knowledge dex drops about any and everything, always attributed to an aunt or uncle, of which he likely has an unlimited stock, and the way that dex catches him when he trips on the sidewalk and the strong, sure way his hands curl around nursey’s body, and how when he gets flustered or embarrassed or angry or happy, his flush is a different shade depending on the emotion, and how nursey-- when he’s around dex-- doesn’t wonder if dex thinks what he’s saying is dumb-- he probably does-- because dex cares anyway and isn’t that just completely and wholly unavoidably wonderful?

so. one of them falls in love. there’s a dib flip. dex goes a little overboard. so does nursey. neither of them reacts accordingly and it’s nearly impossible to say which one reacts to the other’s overreaction. one person has their heart beat up (he still doesn’t like me, he still thinks i’m just someone to annoy) and then they lose before they even make the playoffs and then jack and bitty come out on live tv and dex’s parents infer things that break expectations and nursey’s parents start fighting (unrelated) and nursey wonders if it’s his fault (it isn’t) and they come back to samwell in the fall poised to break one another apart.

if in frog year it was an explosion, in junior year it’s a careful disassembly. they poke at the soft spots they’ve learned in the past year until the whole living situation comes crumbling down and, in the rumble, everything is silent and so much clearer. nursey is alone in a top bunk with a broken wrist, isolated from the team and his parents, scattered across the globe for work in an effort to get away from one another. dex is tucked away in the basement, sucking at hockey as his body refuses to get used to a different d-partner and his conversations with his parents consist of short sentences and loaded silences, and he has no idea what to do with either.

spring comes early that year. flowers poking up amongst frost-bitten blades of grass, birds chirping in the early hours of practices. nursey is back on the ice. he and dex don’t speak, except to work through plays. it begins to come back-- their understanding-- if only on the ice.

bitty starts visiting jack more on the weekends and chowder is off with caitlin and doing compsci homework and talking to recruiters. whiskey usually isn’t there anyway and tango is off doing everything and the waffles are cool but suddenly they seem so young.

on saturday nights, dex cooks and nursey sits at the table with him and complains, mostly to himself at first, about his writing prof. as the weeks wear on, dex adds his own complaints, too. sometimes nursey will throw in something good that happened. sometimes dex will tell a joke (usually a pun, usually horrible, usually inducing belly-aches in nursey regardless). afterwards they do the dishes. dex mentions how he used to love doing the dishes, how it calmed him. how his brother used to comment on it disparagingly. nursey mentions, another time, how his roommate at andover would hate the impromptu headphone dance parties he’d put on-- how it was something he’d do with his dad, when he was young. how it made things better, for a while.

(they never really talk about when happened, dex’s parents or nursey’s, the ache of loneliness that fall term, not until very later, after samwell, after-- well. it takes a while, but when they finally do talk about it, it hurts less if only because of the delicateness with which they’ve learned how to handle such things, by then)

by the time the end of the year arrives-- when they win the fucking playoffs and hoist bitty onto their shoulders with a burning pride in their chests-- nursey and dex would call one another friends. to their faces and everything. and then there’s a banquet and dex gets the c and-- as a twist-- nursey gets the a (maybe coach and hall approached dex before the banquet, explained how close the votes were, asked him if he’d mind, and dex gave the most honest answer maybe he’d ever given in his life-- it would be an honor)

they go into the summer with one another at the top of their messages. they call nearly every week, snapchat daily, about nursey’s internship at a publishing house, dex’s at a tech company in boston. maybe nursey panic-calls dex at three in the morning going on about the publishing process and how crazy it is and how i’m never going to be published and dex calms him down with some seriously misinformed words about the literary business that make nursey breathe easy anyway, and maybe dex goes home one weekend and there’s radio silence until dex calls him on the way back home and asks nursey to just talk and so from maine until massachussetts it’s nursey’s voice rambling about pears and children’s books and cooking equipment until dex gets back to the apartment his internship is paying for and simply says thank you

and they go into senior year this unquestionable team with a legacy to uphold. dex works through plays without hesitation, showing the baby frogs (juniors, they call them) the ropes and silently making the team a warm space, while nursey inspires and comforts and corrects the little things, and they run the haus in the same way-- nursey planning movie nights and board game nights (now that holster and jack are gone and there are strict rules in place) and dex is usually there in the kitchen, cooking and baking and willing to listen to anything the players have to say, and if you asked any of the baby frogs what they thought of dex and nursey’s relationship, they would’ve said that their captains had been friends for years (and maybe, in the right light, that would be true)

how they get together at this point is not important. whichever one didn’t catch feelings sophomore year found them, sometime afterwards, behind a box of forgotten things, forgotten only because they��d been there quietly for so long that no one had every thought to question their presence, and so, in senior year, when they are both in places where things are no longer fragile, where “broken” is a word easily thrown away, they come together with little fanfare.

over a pie, one softly raining afternoon, or in a slipped-into-snowbank on the way back from practice, or in the library over an open textbook or between laughter or in the moments before sleep embraces them on a roadie, or any number of other things.

that is not the most important part-- it’s important, of course, but not the most-- the most important part is that they were, are, together long before any moment like that occurs. because they both learned, grew from the volatile, fragile people they arrived as. grew because they forced each other, became better, stronger, with the guidance and comfort and assurance the other offered. because that is what makes a partnership, a bond of the souls, a love like theirs. it is not being perfect, not even being perfect for one another, but being there and willing to grow.

maybe it’s samwell-- got your back-- that puts them in a place where this kind of process can work. maybe it’s the nature of college itself. maybe it would’ve happened regardless of where they were. but it happened, and it’s wonderful, and that’s what matters.

#nurseydex #dexnursey #check please #my writing #sort of fic #headcanon #dex #nursey #william poindexter #derek nurse #basically this is my hc for how they get together #over the years #i really really wanna write this #all out #from nursey's perspective #but for now i guess i gotta be satisfied with rambles #enjoy?

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antiquecompass · 5 years

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Untamed Fest Day 2: Dynamic

Summary: Wherein Sizhui has a best friend and a crush and parents who care, perhaps, maybe, just a little too much.

(So, like I said yesterday these fics are going to bounce around the ages of 11-18 for the Juniors. In this one Sizhui is 14. It’s also pre-Sizhui/Jingyi. Don’t worry, nothing will get above Teen in this entire series, and only then bc I, and therefore characters I write, curse like a sailor.)

When it came to personality, at least inside the confines of Lan Academy, Lan Sizhui had taken after his Papa. He projected an aura of quiet leadership and confidence; fair in judgment, but willing to mete out and take punishments. Even at fourteen, he was already one of the leaders on the Student Council; the youngest Vice President in a decade. Sizhui had entered the Academy at the age of eleven, determined to prove any doubters wrong, and had done so quietly and efficiently, just like a Lan should.

Lan Jingyi did not lead quietly, though he was still a leader among their class. Lan Jingyi had the type of dynamic personality that drew others in, fluttering around him like butterflies, but he ignored most of them to keep the company of his two best friends. He was loud, opinionated, and always willing to make his feelings known. He wasn’t the way many thought a Lan should be, but he was very much a Lan, through and through, just willing to openly show the more stubborn parts of their personality that people forgot they had under their veneer of genteel manners.

It was often said that together, Lan Sizhui and Lan Jingyi truly made the perfect Lan. A balance of the best, and worst, traits. Sizhui was calm and quiet, Jingyi excitable and loud, but where Sizhui often had self-doubts, Jingyi had enough pride and confidence for the both of them. They’d grown up as a pair, rarely apart, settling into their roles and friendship with an enviable and familiar ease. So many years together, being so known to each other, they were a hard pair to defeat in anything--be it something as simple as a classroom debate or something more serious as an actual fight to defend someone’s honor. Since they were always found in each other’s company, they’d become the pride of the family and the Academy.

Sizhui was proud to be the one-half of such a whole.

Sizhui also had a problem.

He knew he had a crush on Jingyi. It’d been there for years. Apparently he’d told his fathers at the ripe old age of five that he was going to marry Jingyi one day, and while it’d been a story retold often at family gatherings for laughs...well, Sizhui may not have truly meant it at five, but at fourteen, it was definitely a future he wanted.

And somehow he knew that wasn’t normal.

He knew it was normal, for him, to have a crush. His fathers had taken great pains to inform him about different sexual and gender identities and forms of attraction and the like as soon as he showed the first hints of a boyhood crush. So he knew a crush, especially on attractive, kind, funny, caring Jingyi wasn’t unusual. They’d been best friends since they were four. There was no one else his age Sizhui trusted more than Jingyi.

But Sizhui was worried that he’d passed the crush stage long ago and had been firmly planted in something that he was hesitant to call love, because he was only fourteen, but knew that clearly picturing a future with Jingyi that saw them married and raising some kids of their own as the most natural course of their relationship probably meant something significant.

He knew most Lans fell hard, fell once, and fell in love for life. But Sizhui was a Lan in name only.

Perhaps Nurture had won this round versus Nature.

He still needed to talk to someone before he embarrassingly blurted out his love for Jingyi straight to his face, probably when the other was devouring a basket of chicken wings. That would be Sizhui’s luck. He’d probably make poor Jingyi choke. And then he’d have to give him the Heimlich or something, and Jingyi would probably spit out his chicken bone right into Great Uncle Lan’s face, and then Sizhui would have to go find a grave plot to bury himself in after he died from the collective embarrrassment.

So, yeah, he needed to talk to someone.

**********

Dad’s office occupied the single turret tower of their massive house. He jokingly called it his gargoyle hoard, and often sang songs from Disney’s take on The Hunchback of Notre Dame as he climbed the stairs to the tower. Or he called for Papa with, ‘Lan Zhan, Lan Zhan, let down your hair’ which never made much sense to Sizhui since Dad was the one in the tower, but they all indulged Dad’s whims and humor.

From the outside the tower looked imposing in its stone and dark shingled roof, but inside it was full of vibrant color. All of his books were here, crammed on an overstuffed bookshelf, containing every edition of every book he’d published in every language available, a handmade wooden sign hung above it declaring, A Leap of Faith. Art of his various characters hung on the wall, some official that he’d commissioned, some of his own making, but most sent by fans from around the world in the barrels of mail that came to the house each week.

It was a cluttered mess of genius that perfectly encapsulated his dad.

Today Dad was behind his desk, hair pulled up into a messy bun, with fingers covered in paint as he worked out some new character designs for his latest story. He was slowly moving from elementary reading level books to Young Adult, but his new series would straddle that border of Young Adult and New Adult--that vague spot where the characters weren’t young teens, nor in their mid-20s, but still had their own stories to tell. It was a story he’d been wanting to tell for years, based largely on his own life, but set in a mystical and magical modern world.

His papa was unceremoniously sprawled out on the battered couch that had followed his fathers from their apartment in Cambridge, to their home in Boston, to this massive estate in the Berkshires. Sizhui smiled to himself as he pictured his classmates faces if they ever saw the great Hanguang-Jun with such imperfect posture, wearing only worn sweatpants and a t-shirt older than Sizhui. His hair was also pulled up into a messy bun, a red pen clutched in his teeth as he read through the most recent edit of Dad’s new book.

Sizhui smiled as he watched them. His parents had always been so full of warmth and love--for him, for each other, for all their family--that Sizhui knew he’d been spoiled in care and affection. And he wanted that, the connection that they had. He knew it wasn’t effortless, every relationship took work and dedication and effort, but they made it seem so very easy.

“Sizhui, why do you linger?” Papa asked, eyes barely leaving the bound pages in his hands.

“Because he is a good boy who waits until he’s invited in, even though he knows he never has to,” Dad said, waving him inside. “What can we do for our favorite son?”

“Your only son, since you never did give me that sibling I asked for,” Sizhui teased.

Dad smirked. “Not for lack of trying,” he said.

“Wei Ying,” Papa admonished from the couch.

Dad patted the chair next to his desk. “Come. Sit. Speak. Bond. I feel like we never talk anymore.”

“We had an entire family conference just last night,” Sizhui said as he took his seat.

Dad frowned. “But that was school stuff. I want gossip, Sizhui. I want the deets. I want the 411. Give me the dirt. Spill the tea. Or the beans.” He looked to Papa. “What else do the kids say these days?”

“None of what just passed your lips,” Papa said.

Dad frowned. “So mean, Lan Zhan.” His pout became more pronounced as he turned to Sizhui. “See how he treats me? Betrayed by my very own heart and soul.”

Sizhui shook his head at them, but grasped on to the opening. “So, about that.”

He didn’t know what he expected to happen but Dad actually gasped and Papa sat up so fast he nearly tumbled off the couch.

“Is it happening?” Dad asked. “Did it happen?” He pulled out his leather planner, full of post-it notes, napkins, and various other bits and bobs. “I had you two down for at least another month from now, but your Papa insisted it would be before Halloween.”

“What?” Sizhui asked as he looked back and forth between his parents.

“Sizhui,” Papa said as he walked over to the desk. “Did Lan Jingyi not ask you out on a date?”

“What?” Sizhui asked. He felt the blood rush to his face, in his ears, blocking out all other sounds. “What?” he repeated.

Dad grimaced. “Whoops. I think we broke him. Bad parenting penalty.”

“No--I---what?” Sizhui asked again. “I just wanted to know how you, like, know if you like someone more than a friend and you’re running a bet on my dating life? With my best friend?”

“To be fair, your Uncle Huaisang runs a bet on everything,” Dad said.

“Wei Ying,” Papa cautioned.

“Fine,” Dad said, pushing his planner to the side. He sat forward and grasped Sizhui hands. “Sizhui, if you’re asking us this question, do you not already know the answer?”

Sizhui nodded. “But, how can you be sure?”

“In your own heart, what do you feel?” Papa asked. He knelt to meet Sizhui’s downcast gaze. “You don’t have to tell us, or even him, but you’ll feel so much more relief if you acknowledge your own truth.” His smile was small as he patted Sizhui’s knees. “It was the only way I was able to manage all the years when your dad still didn’t know his own feelings.”

“It must’ve been torture,” Sizhui said.

Papa smiled and met Dad’s eyes. “It wasn’t so bad, in the end. But you and Jingyi are different. You don’t have the restrictions on you that Uncle put on me and your Uncle Xichen. You don’t have the physical distance between you. If you want to, you can start dating now. If you feel like you’re ready.”

Sizhui tried not to hunch his shoulders and make himself smaller, but the uncertainty ate at him. “But what if I ruin our friendship? I don’t think--I couldn’t take him hating me.”

“Oh, Sizhui,” Dad said as he clambered over the desk and hugged him. “Jingyi could never hate you. I know you know him better than that, but if you want more, well…”

“Leap of faith?” Sizhui asked.

Both his fathers nodded.

If the Lan-Wei family had its own motto, Leap of Faith, would be it. If they had their own crest, it would be a rabbit surrounded by the words, Daring, Determination, Devotion, and Honesty. His fathers had raised him with those values, and Sizhui did his best to own them, and now, he knew, he could either rely on them or try to patiently wait until Jingyi came to him.

If at school the dynamic of Sizhui and Jingyi made the perfect Lan, at home, Sizhui was very much the best, and worst, of both of his fathers.

“Oh, I know that look,” Dad said as he kissed the top of Sizhui’s head. “Poor Jingyi isn’t going to know what hit him.” Sizhui could feel his wide grin against his hair. “It’s going to be awesome.”

Part 2

#untamedfest #fandom: the untamed #long post #verse: lahl #fic: tales from lan academy #the untamed #my ridic writing #day 2

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psicomma · 6 years

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Elaborating on the NSFW scenes matter

First episode HERE

So yeah I’ve got mixed feelings about sex scenes in my writings. Or more specifically; the recurrences of sex scenes in my current writing project.

I’ve been reading tutorials (I’m not even kidding, I wish I was) on how to write a decent NSFW scene in a work of fiction. How to go beyond porn? Reading tutorials to improve your writing is honestly a very bad idea but that’s how insecure I am tbh. Knowing there are “rules” (while I know deep down there is no such thing) reassures me and helps me keep going. I mean of course there’s a part of self-indulgence in writing, why would we be writing otherwise? However, there has to be something more, a distance of politeness between the writer and the reader. I think. I feel like a good writer must be able to respect his reader, he has to know when is the right time for him to step off the stage, cause someone once said that good stories “begin inside the writer’s mind, but end in the reader’s mind” and I genuinely think it’s true. A good story is good because we somehow tell it to ourselves, and the writer is just here to help.

So how do we deal with something as subjective as sex, seriously? How to keep a distance of politeness when it comes to something as intimate as sexuality? I mean we all like different things and that’s perfectly normal and there are only a few things I find more ridiculous in this world than the normalization of some sexual practices by society. One of the best bits of advice Internet gave me on that matter was that sex had to be “useful” to the story; if it’s not contributory to the plot in one way or another then it has to go. I wouldn’t pressure anyone to apply that rule, and I would honestly don’t mind reading a sex scene that is here “just cuz”. I have absolutely no problem with sex scenes/porn/NSFW or whatsoever in other people’s works, I’m just particularly picky and concerned about the way I personally depict sex in my own works of fiction. I’m just saying that one rule worked for me. I always question the necessity of each scene after I’m done writing it, but more so when we’re talking about something NSFW.

A lot of people also advised subtlety, but sadly I this seems to be far beyond me. Every damn time I try to write something slightly steamy, it ends up extremely explicit. It seems I HAVE to talk about hard dicks else I feel unwell orz. I honestly don’t feel bad about that though. If I had to describe, I’d say my prose is simple, sometimes slightly trashy but not sorry about it. I always felt the need to write all the dirty details, all the things people didn’t really want to read/hear bc it’s too down to earth/not glamour for one bit. I guess it’s personal. I have trouble with fictional works that romanticize the human body. It can be great if the writer is extremely talented, but most of the time I find it ridiculous, and I just can’t “buy it”. I don’t mind if it doesn’t feel real, I just need it to feel believable, and “wide azure orbs in which you can see the northern lights and the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel” just puts me off.

Paradoxically the scenes of which I’m most proud of so far in the story are the sex scenes; one is a weird substance-filled, shameful wet dream, and the other one is a chaotic not-so-consensual outburst of bottled up emotions. Both very unpleasant and I’m okay with that. Tricky part is now ; when the sex actually becomes really wild and wholesome. I’m still pondering whether or not displaying love and affection through sex is legitimate in that story.

Again I have nothing against porn. Porn is great. That’s just not what I wanna do here.

#text #ramblings #creative struggles #blindsight #shaun and ani give me a hard time even on the parts wher i thought it was gonna be easy ;_;#it's been almost five months now...#thanks for coming to my ted talk #possibly the most aporetic ted talk ever made #pardon the typo in the tags I'm too lazy to type again

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vodka-aunt-coran · 7 years

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archaeology au???? i'm currently writing a shallura fantasy au in which shiro meets allura because he's an arch nerd so I'm listening

oh boy oh boy oK LISTEN

(ok sorry i’m adding a readmore. this got long. beware y’all this is ENTIRELY self-indulgent, like, 100%, and i don’t expect anyone else to enjoy it.)

this begins in college but it’ll extend to post-graduation

i’ll start with shiro, a poor, tired grad student who took a few years after his masters to split his time between CRM and projects whenever he got the chance, but now he’s back to fight for a PhD

his focus is on…hmmm…for now i’m going to go with historical archaeology, mainly focusing on the cultural interactions between china and japan?

shiro is also a TA! and each semester, whatever class he’s teaching, he like. straight-up adopts the undergrads in his section. there are four undergrads in particular who keep popping up. they are his children now.

matt is also a PhD student! he got 2 majors and 2 minors in undergrad, completed his masters really quickly, and then tried to go for a PhD immediately but burned out :x he’s back now! just under heavy supervision from shiro.

matt specializes in reconstructing paleoenvironment. this is done through paleoethnobotany (looking at old seeds n shit), sometimes geoarchaeology (looking at dirt n shit), AND getting climate information………………from ice cores.

(and lake cores but i know what the people really want to hear)

allura is like…everyone’s goals. she took her time getting her degrees (coughcoughmatt) and had a 4.0 probably, she’s worked on a frankly astounding number of projects, and people can hardly believe she doesn’t have a PhD yet.

i’m not 100% sure what allura’s specializing in. i feel like she wouldn’t either? like, she’s worked on such a variety of projects that she took a while to figure out what she really wanted to stick with. my guess is that, like matt, she decides to focus on technical rather than area so she gets to work all over the place. i’ll go with…osteoarchaeology. aka. bones n shit.

that’s right allura’s the badass who gets to work with burials and is probably cursed 93% of the time

her dream job is working on the domuztepe death pit

(don’t look up the death pit if you’re squeamish and also bc the information won’t be as good as if you dm me for the deets update: i made a post concerning The Deets, but proceed with caution, because it is about horrific deaths)

allura and matt are TAs too but matt is not super helpful if it’s not about his own field? and allura is rly intimidating. so people generally just go to shiro for help.

The Children are just undergrads BUT what they end up specializing in:

keith: warfare lmao boy loves his weapon artifacts. he’s like. A1 at identifying them too, show him an old sword and he’ll be like “oh yeah that looks like a viking design from the early 8th century”

lance: he rly…rly likes working on sites near water…like every time he gets to work on a shipwreck or anything underwater his soul grows brighter. that being said, i wanna say his specialty is in preservation and possibly curation? so during important digs he’s on site and nagging everyone to be as careful as possible

hunk: does a lot of lab work! he’s like. the king of the lab. need that sample carbon dated? hunk’s got you. need to know the composition of that ceramic? hunk’s your guy. need lipid analysis? bring it to hunk. he can even get the ancient XRD machine to work, even though no one else can figure it out. he’s a legend.

pidge: …i want to make a her a paleoethnobotanist so bad. but like. i know she wouldn’t simply bc matt’s already doing that and the independent will of second children is strong.fcuk it, she’s a paleoethnobotanist. she’s ridiculously good at identifying samples, and usually ends up helping matt with it. she’s also really into reconstructing diets and stuff and gets excited when she gets to work with stable isotope data.

bonus! shay is a geoarchaeologist who asks for hunk’s help mayyybe more often than is strictly necessary. then again, hunk will sometimes ask her opinion on samples when she’s pretty sure he’s already interpreted it perfectly. a modern romance

ok some more nonsense about them follows in no particular order

all of them are rly passionate about combating looting, collecting, and other destruction of sites. keith almost dropped a collector at a convention once. shiro held him back, but they still got kicked out bc while his back was turned allura and lance were cursing out a rly skeezy (but rich) curator.

shiro: hunk, why didn’t you stop them?hunk: [writing a paper about the museum’s poorly provenienced polynesian artifacts] what?

shiro is more careful about who he brings along to his academic conventions.

i mean. obv he also wrecks these garbage people. but with heavily researched papers n shit.

[while in undergrad]professor holt: ok class today we’re going to watch a documentary on the excavation of this famous site in the 60s!whole class: [cringing at the poor methodology]professor holt: i know, i know, we’ll roast our predecessors after the video is over

keith and pidge are huge conspiracy theorists right. like. aliens are real and out there, you know? so you’d think they’re all about those aliens built the pyramids stuff

some loser: hey you know how the aliens built the pyramids right?keith: ok listen math and astronomy existed before greece there is so much evidence showing that the egyptians themselves built their pyramids and there’s a clear progression from stepped pyramids to perfect ones and the fact that stepped pyramids appear around the world doesn’t mean anything more than making it obvious what the easiest way to build a large structure is and while we’re at it let’s talk about the nasca lines–

basically they call out Certain Theories for what they are bc…like…bro didn’t u notice that u only claim aliens abt incredible achievements when the people aren’t white

shiro: so, wait. if you don’t believe that aliens interacted with prehistoric peoples, why do you believe in them at all?pidge: because they infiltrated european politics beginning with ancient rome and have currently shifted their focus towards controlling american governmentkeith: [pulling out a Conspiracy Board] do you want to see our research, we think it could be our thesis project

like how pidge and keith are into aliens, lance deeply believes in ghosts. he’s convinced that allura has a million curses on her and the fact that she’s still perfect is evidence that she is A Goddess.

allura: lance, there’s no such thing as ghosts. you won’t be haunted or cursed if you help me handle this burial.lance: …alright, fine. only for you.[three days later]allura: [picks up phone] hello lance. how are you?lance: A TREE FELL ON MY CAR YOU LIAR

[at a historical site w shiro]lance: so uh. how many ghosts do you think are in here.shiro: oh my god, you’re just as bad as the other two.pidge: don’t group me in with that! i know ghosts aren’t real.keith: eh, they might belance: you work with violent deaths, how could you sleep at night believing in ghosts?keith: i’m not a coward like some peoplelance: !! i am not a coward!![door slams down the hall]lance and keith: [sprinting back outside]

lance gets on everybody’s case abt what they should and shouldn’t touch, and how to bag things, etc

when anyone wants a lipid or dna sample run, hunk makes sure that lance is there to make sure they properly handle the artifact sharon if you don’t wear gloves and the facemask all your research won’t count for shit

keith is The Worst at bagging and labelling his shit like. lance sometimes just makes a point of coming to his digs for the express purpose of labelling all the stuff for him.

lance: keith are you really going to make me waste shelf space on all these soil sampleskeith: [softly] lance i don’t know why the fuck we even take soil samples this isn’t my job

lance made the mistake of going to pick up boxes of artifacts from the holts on april fools day. when matt ‘tripped’ and dropped the box, it didn’t matter that it was really empty, because lance was already in tears. shiro had A Word with them. pidge and matt had to be a lot nicer to lance after that.

allura and keith work together pretty often bc. y’know. war stuff and remains tend to overlap. they’re besties with a sense of morbid humor to rival shiro’s.

allura: keith you’ll never guess what happened to this femur!keith: it looks…bad?allura: yes. the individual was killed by a boiling tar poured over the nearby wall!keith: i guess he didn’t get a heads up?allura: haha!! exactly!! or else he would’ve suffocated horribly!!both: [laughing]shiro: [hunched over faded old documents] god i wish that were me

pidge: hey lance, i was sieving through dirt from the hearth area for seeds, but i think i just found a tooth?lance: oh god ok put that back i’ll call allurapidge: dude it’s just a tooth, it might not even be human. i think we can handle it.lance: what if it is!! where do you think teeth come from pidge!!pidge: look, someone just happened to drop a tooth in the fireplace!!keith: hey guys i think i just found a skull in the hearthpidge: DAMN ITlance: AHA!!keith: not the reactions i was expecting but,

hunk: keith, i need to break off a piece of it if you want composition. you know how this works.keith: [cradling knife to his chest] but i love her

(update: here are a few bonus additions to this, since this is more or less the main post and this is main stuff)

#oh god i love this au #again i dont expect anyone to care about it but #text #self indulgent au #space family #i feel like i want to add more but also i want to sleep yknow #anon #ask

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