#that pattern on the festival tops is COMPLEX

[waywardstation]

Akari bought sneasel masks for them both at the Jubilife Festival!

#submas #ingo #warden ingo #Akari #Pokemon Akari #sneasel #Pokémon legends arceus #pokemon legends arceus #Pokémon legends #pokemon legends #pokemon #pokemon fanart #UNCLE INGO PROPAGANDA #he wasn’t in the credits photo :( #but #he went to the festival too #that pattern on the festival tops is COMPLEX #waywardstationart

[wincore]

indelicate | liu yangyang

pairing: yangyang x fem!reader

synopsis: missing the last train out of new shanghai was not on the to-do list. however, your project partner liu yangyang promises fun, dazzling lights, and the warmth of a human connection for this festive weekend. perhaps even in the era of diamond and steel, the human touch means something after all.

genre: oriental cyberpunk, f2l, fluff

warning(s): swearing & several innuendos. also out-of-date jokes sorry guys i wrote this in 2021

words: 11.9k

a/n: this is just a rework of an old fic i posted here with another character! if you find any inconsistencies, it's probably because of that LOL also this is not a wincore revival but i did miss everyone on here !!

i. city plaza

Some idiot, somewhere along in history, decided to renovate a city into something so dazzling that the population shoots up to a hundred and fifty percent of what was before, and the rest of the damage comes along with the people. Promises are made and broken to build this city of extravagance. You have the belief that the more people there are in one place, the more difficult it gets to live there. This dazzling hellscape means colliding into too many people on the streets, too many bright lights outside your dorm room when you’re trying to sleep and the god awful sound of deafening firecrackers at every new year celebration.

Another idiot somehow roped you into his ‘midnight adventure: traditional version’ once he heard you missed the last train ticket out of the city. Liu Yangyang has a terrible way with words—but he has a way.

You were, by some unfortunate gamble of the gods, partners for a project that accounted for sixty percent of the grade. While that affair is over, you still haven't rid yourself of the predicament that is Yangyang. Gorgeous, yes, but too overwhelming. You smack your head against the car window only for him to jump in his seat beside you, hand gently driving over your forehead to check for damage. The neon city lays around you, and festive light projections float across the sky in intricate shapes of the ox and written messages. This is going nowhere. You came to this city sacrificing everything and yet suddenly, everything’s hanging on a string again.

The city lights of New Shanghai are cruel. Everything in this place is cruel.

Which is exactly why you’re in Yangyang’s car, parked by the middle level city plaza on New Year’s Eve. It is, in fact, illegal to hover by the city plaza on New Year’s Eve but Yangyang seems to either not care or simply doesn’t know. You forget the law doesn’t exist for rich kids. Out of all man-made wonders, rules are the most interesting. 

“Shall we go?” he asks, voice bubbly as ever. Every morning, he chirps like the alarm birds outside your window. Yes, it has made you want to sleep forever at times.

“It’s just one night. And I’ll be with you, so you don’t have to be afraid.”

“I’m not afraid,” you snap. 

“Not afraid of the dark either?”

You pull your jacket closer to you. Here, the cold streets of the techno-jungle make you shiver more often than not. If you dare go out without friends, a city so grand will inevitably drain the life out of you. Your body alone cannot withstand the dazzle. And—you can’t be afraid of the dark after you’ve complained about the lights.

You look at Yangyang and back to the cityscape outside—large conglomerative blocks of buildings, some hosting advertisements with the faces of inhumanly beautiful models and some with the ‘Happy New Year!’ text animation floating about in increasingly complex patterns. You see the revolving top of one of the grandest skyscrapers, a Dior hotel, not the tallest but certainly the most pleasing to look at. It gleams from red to orange like the pulsating heart of a giant metropolitan beast. There are more funky buildings to look at, some not even the shape of austere corporate skyscrapers.

“Do you wanna go there?” Yangyang asks all of a sudden. “I heard the lounge is closed off from eleven. I can call some friends and we can book a room though—”

“No. No way. I’m not going to spend new year’s eve in a Dior suite.”

He grins. “Thank god. It’s so boring there. Only models and businessmen and whatever freak shit they do.”

You sigh. Liu Yangyang is a whole story in itself. He’s rich and popular—a dream of many—but so few are as welcoming as he is. When you’re in that position, you’re bound to have a little metal seep into your heart. Some hidden part of you, however, tells you to loosen up when you’re with him; just let it go and have a good time. There’s no reason why you shouldn't. The economy is on a steep incline, the people are happy and no other city compares to this place. You could learn a thing or two from Yangyang.

He looks at you questioningly, eyes waiting and the curve of his lips still. You notice his platinum blond hair is more styled than usual, you can almost smell the gel on it, and for a moment, you wish you looked as good as he does. A dark leather jacket accentuates his shoulders, the plain T-shirt underneath not of the flashy type. He looks like he’s ready for club-hopping and you, anything but. If you knew earlier that you’d be by the Strip around midnight on New Year’s, you'd have dressed better. 

“If you stay any longer in my car, people are going to assume we’re…y’know,” he states, quirking his eyebrow. “I’m pretty sure it’s illegal, though. Like, who thought fu—”

You were wrong. There is absolutely nothing to learn from Liu Yangyang. 

“I would get out of this car immediately and fall to my death before I let that happen,” you retort, crossing your arms.

“No, hey. What an inauspicious sentence. Besides, and I’m not bragging but you should know I’m really good at using my assets—”

“Don’t say a word.”

The heat of embarrassment flows into your cheeks at his implication. You look out the window, weighing out the pros and cons. The scenery is so bright that sometimes it hurts to look outside. It’s not midnight yet but the main streets are already getting crowded for the processions; the sound of laughter and conversation ring in the air. It makes you somewhat sad to not be home for this. But as they say, living in a big city can only be done if you sell your soul to it.

You’re directly above the level one city plaza, the people below looking unsettling in the way they’re so small and far away—they don’t even seem human at this distance. You wonder if you look like that to the people above this, to the level three elites who sit on top of the whole city..

You look back to your companion, who’s transfixed on the bakery across the road—either that, or just really, really zoned out. Knowing Yangyang, it could be either. When you tilt your head, waiting, you find that he has pretty features—a shaped nose and round, curious eyes, all in perfect alignment with plump, pink lips. His metallic ring earrings shine when the light hits them right. No wonder you get girls asking how close the two of you are often. Even in a world pushing manufactured love, boys like him make others daydream. You wonder why you’re the one he loves to drag in with him.

Yangyang flinches when he finds you staring at him. You clear your throat, looking away and hoping you can sweep this under the rug.

“Are you- are you by any chance mad at me?” he asks, a nervous smile awkwardly tugging at his lips.

“I- what? No. I’m not mad at you.”

“You look like my mother when I don’t clean my room. Or Ten's cats when I try to kiss them.”

A tiny laugh escapes you before you get back your poised demeanor. “I’m- I’m not mad at you.”

He smiles at you wordlessly and you feel a little conscious. You glance outside when the plaza music starts to get loud and look back at him, debating whether you should just give in.

“So… you’ll let me brighten your life now?” he asks in his regular baritone, grinning wider. “The semester’s over and it’s festival time! I bring good luck, I promise.”

Liu Yangyang is not a happy serendipity. He simply cannot be. However, he does make you laugh more often than you’d admit.

“Whatever. Go ahead. I just don’t want to be hungover on a Friday.”

“You don’t- you don’t have to drink to have a good time.” He laughs. “I would know. I’m sort of a lightweight. I don’t know why I told you that. I’m supposed to be cool.”

You giggle, taking a moment to think.

“Fine then. Show me your magical access key to our beloved Mobius Strip, the mightiest, grandest structure in all of New Shanghai.”

“Well, if you put it that way… I am pretty cool, huh?”

His smile is too harmless for you to roll your eyes. He’s too gentle, you realize all of sudden, to be as awful as all the uni frat boys you’ve had the misfortune of talking to. You watch him as he drives; his arm moves with ease and he tries to make conversation but you can only hum and respond in singular words. The closer you are to the Strip the more nervous you get. It’s like visiting all those dark places that your mother explicitly warned you not to visit as a teenager—but you’re an adult now. No one owns you. No one should be able to own you. The determination builds up slowly over neon lights and hazy street shops.

Nights here are the fun part. Everyone says that. Other than the fact that you can barely make out the colour of the sky under the vivid city lights, there’s something very enticing about the streets, the upper streets that wind around the city.

Yangyang drives the car to a level three street, the behemoth structure of the Strip now so close that all you can see beyond your window are its placid, white walls stretching out to infinity. You can see little gardens and shops, peeking out from between each strip and one of the shopkeepers wave at you the moment you pass. Yangyang says something along the lines of “thanks for the free noodles” to the woman, before gliding higher. 

“Grandma makes the best glass noodles here,” he says, excitedly. “I’ll take you sometime. If you like.”

You hum, noting the joy he expresses at the idea of something so simple. 

Level three streets are already thousand and a half feet above the ground. You try not to look down; heights aren’t something you’re very fond of even if you love the sky. You note construction work for street levels four and five, shivering at the idea. The winds of change are fucking cold.

Yangyang swerves the car off-road at one point and you clutch his arm by reflex.

“What the fuck? Don’t do that without warning me,” you say, breathing quicker. You do not do well with: sudden movement, jumpscares and boys with pretty smiles.

“Sorry,” he says, looking at you with concern. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

You let go of his arm, more embarrassed at yourself than mad at him. Driving the car closer to the Strip, he brakes carefully by the parking lot. The walls are covered in red wallpaper, a few lanterns attached to drones, floating along the path inside. It looks like a rooftop parking lot, though the mysterious dim lighting makes you walk closer to Yangyang.

“I heard this is gonna be a really cool event—they’ve got the latest AI tech hosting and crap but let me tell you the best part.”

He pauses for dramatic effect. 

“The food!” He says, spreading his arms and grinning. “The food at private events is the best thing you’ll ever taste.”

You open your mouth but close it again in part horror, part confusion. “You’re… taking me to a private event?”

“Ah, don’t look like that. It’s really fun, promise.”

“I’m not even dressed for it,” you blurt, embarrassed.

Yangyang shakes his head. “Don’t worry about that. It’s for rich kids, you know? If I’m being honest, none of them know how to dress.”

His confident statement gets a giggle out of you and you relax a little. You walk with him, further into the square platform and away from the cars. The sky disappears behind the dark roof and for a moment, you feel like you’ve entered a different dimension. It’s like the architecture models that your professors had on display for the Shanghai History class in your freshman year. Old stuff, that is. Before this place even had the first skyscraper.

You turn to your side and narrow your eyes at Yangyang, suddenly wondering how he finagled his way into bringing you here. Your iron-clad will is not so much iron after all. It’s not even steel, you think, once you catch yourself staring at Yangyang a bit too long.

You step forward to find the entrance to the club; it’s a little lonely to look at in the beginning. Then it clicks that it’s probably the back door. The red pillars encase a black door between them, the overhang of the gateway just a little above Yangyang’s head. You can see the hip-and-gable style roof of the larger building behind, looking like a skyscraper instead of the usual historical buildings you’ve seen on the internet. In glowing red letters, it displays a blinking ‘Club 2’ near the top of the door.

The moment you step on the stairs, a bunch of advertisements pop up on the door, bright bubblegum colours hurting your eyes. Yangyang taps at the little x at the corner of the display till it disappears and finally the door is a regular door. The colour is jet black like any other screening platform. 

“I thought the rich were exempted from ads,” you say.

“They’re… more likely to buy things though.”

You make an ‘ah’ sound in contemplation when a whirring makes you jump into him. A little spherical drone flies its way out of an opening in the wall and stops right in front of the two of you. 

“Sicheng-ge!” Yangyang says, waving frantically at the camera.

The little drone circles around Yangyang’s head before stopping right in front of his face. It runs a scan before turning sharply and beeping at you. 

“My plus one!” Yangyang declares, pulling you by the waist. “Or whatever it’s called.”

Your ears feel warm but you don’t push him off. The camera focuses on your face, likely scanning to identify your age and occupation. When it’s done, a beep resounds and the door slides open to reveal a dimly lit pathway. The main entrance is much brighter, Yangyang promises, but for now it’s just the warm glow of the lanterns, Yangyang’s neon red striped jacket and the mechanical whirring of some sort of device in the darkness.

“What’s that sound?” you whisper and Yangyang stops. 

He pauses to think. “Oh, they’re Sicheng-ge’s drones. He’s got like a million of them. I'll introduce you—he’s hosting this club event, by the way.”

He smiles at you reassuringly. If Yangyang’s not bothered by it, you’ll follow his lead. Though, you do take more nimble steps and stay close to him like he’s your lighthouse. (In a way, he is, with all that neon shining on his jacket.)

You’re surprised to find a garden, but then it gets stranger when you see brighter lanterns in the middle area. You see figures and before you can react, Yangyang takes your hand and into the central platform.

ii. orchid club square

Yangyang was right. None of them know how to dress.

The two of you stand in the middle of a crowd, who are in fact dressed either for: a) an impromptu pool party or b) a Sunday morning lecture. You blend in somewhat well given the variety though Yangyang’s painted looks have attracted the attention of quite a few giggling, murmuring onlookers.

You clench your jaw in mild annoyance. 

“This is a tour,” Yangyang whispers to you. “I thought… you’d like to know what everything’s about.”

You feel grateful to him for once. Having some sort of knowledge about what you’re getting into makes you feel better about any situation. A set of mechanical clicking fills the air.

A woman—no, an AI bot is the first to greet you. She has pale white metallic skin and her dark strands of hair are in a traditional updo. Her lips are imperial red, shaped in a way that makes her seem as though she’s smiling but also not at the very same time. She holds an extravagant fan by her face at the perfect right angle, the patterns on it painted to imitate an ancient cherry blossom tree. 

“Good evening, everyone,” she says, her voice pitched up and enthusiastic. It’s a little funny to imagine metal so lively.

You smell oranges and lavender as soon as she flicks her fan once and precise. 

“Welcome to the New Shanghai nightlife!” The bot continues jovially. “The oldest surviving city on planet earth, the birthplace of the human race.”

“You are in virtual space,” she informs. “It might look like a courtyard stretching to infinity but it is only an illusion. However, the club is five hundred and sixty one metres wide and six hundred and twelve metres long. It is large enough to hold twenty-one blue whales in a line. That is, if they still existed of course.”

She giggles algorithmically.

“Where you stand right now,” she says, turning her head in a swift mechanical motion to you and you flinch. “This place is called the orchid club square. As you know, only VIP access lets you in.”

You glance at Yangyang worriedly and he shrugs. There’s no way she could know, right? That was oddly specific. But then she moves her head left to right to address the whole crowd in perfect grace. When her movement starts to get a little too eerie to watch any longer, you fix your eyes on the garden instead. You have no way of telling part real flowers from virtual ones and even so—all of them are beautiful. Maybe reality doesn’t make things any prettier.

However, when you look at Yangyang, the thought gets tossed out. You shake your head, in an attempt to get rid of the image of his face. It’s a little too late to be feeling this way. Either that, or the night is taking its toll on you already. The day was exhausting, considering it was the end of the semester.

The AI guide’s chatter fades into something quieter when you move the club square. It’s a rather empty space, fitting for a rave or just housing large crowds. The decorations are for the new year celebrations, banners of the ox in auspicious colours and a few drones projecting the rest. There’s a garden of evermore orchids lining the area in a perfect square and it’s so precise that it’s pleasing to look at. There’s a door at one edge, similar to the one you encountered before entering the club square.

The music that wafts through the air is so gentle, you almost forget there’s a celebration. The beat makes it livelier and even so, the rhythm of your heartbeat matches it in a soothing sort of way. Turning around, you spot the musical ensemble. It’s another AI, peering over a guqin with trained habit.

She looks the same, except she wears an electronic mask over the lower half of her face. It displays a blue musical note made up of noticeable pixels. She has no fan—instead, her fingers strum the guqin rhythmically, programmed with precision and grace. The sound is accompanied by the woodwind notes of a flute, though you’re not sure where that sound emanates from. There’s also a soft drumbeat which seems to come from the guqin bot herself.

You gasp when a few painted goldfish float through the air, almost real to look at if it weren’t for the glitch effect of holograms. One of them swims closer to you, opening and closing its mouth in rhythm and you giggle at its face.

Yangyang laughs, long finger pointing at the critter in amusement. “That’s adorable.”

He looks like a little kid and you giggle at his expression, with wide, delighted eyes and mouth open in focused mirth. He pokes at the goldfish and it makes a bubbling sound, gears shifting in ticking time before suddenly biting at his index finger. Yangyang lets out a low yelp, retracting his hand before clearing his throat in embarrassment.

“You’re like a cartoon,” you tell him, in between laughs. “No way are you real.”

He grins, in that same way he always looks at you and you look away, feeling hot in the face. It’s too enamored a way to look at someone. But of course, that couldn’t be true—he’s Liu Yangyang and you’re you. Parallel lines do not meet, even if they’re headed in the same direction.

“I think you’re unreal,” he mumbles.

iii. club 2

The doors open to a rather spacious arrangement, with several tables one one side and a sort of dance arena on the other where people are trying to out-dance each other. The intensity makes you move further away from it. It seems a little too festive and you can feel the energy slinking away from you. The music is more upbeat but you suppose the DJ tried to make it sound more eastern; the result is pleasing. He wears a smooth black helmet with a neon red beat visualizer on it, with written SFX appearing from time to time. Two pulsing golden horns glow at the sides of his head. You stare at it for longer than you’d like before composing yourself. You’re very impressionable when it comes to parties. 

There are two floors to the club, above the bottom floor itself. The other two floors mostly seem to consist of private booths, however, covered with gossamer silk that glow iridescent. A few floating lanterns sway by the upper floors. The ceiling is open to a midnight blue sky and the stars look much larger than you’ve ever seen them—you suspect it’s an AR mesh over the ceiling. A few light shows project little dancing dragons and coins over the sky and you find them too cute to not stare at.

“Wow,” Yangyang says, right after walking in. “Why is Dejun on the table?”

You look where his eyes are focused on, though it’s difficult through the crowd of people, and find Dejun and Kunhang in some sort of old anime transformation pose atop one of the tables. It’s surprising that they’re not the weirdest pair here. 

“Now, bear with me, it’s going to be boring as hell till the countdown and the fireworks,” he explains, waving his hands around. “But it’s a good place to have fun and make friends. You know?”

“Friends?” you ask, a little nervous. You’re not very proficient at making friends and it makes you anxious.

“Yeah! Don’t worry. ” He makes a strange gesture, bordering between posing for a beer ad campaign and looking like a motivational speaker for the army, before furrowing his eyebrows. “You just have to be confident! I’m learning too!”

He lets out a sweet laugh and it makes you laugh in turn, hand covering your mouth so you don’t embarrass yourself too much. You don’t believe the words much, but the glow over his cheeks makes you reconsider.

“You look really nice when you laugh,” he comments, a bright glint in his eyes.

“Whatever,” you reply, punching his shoulder lightly.

Just then, you feel a gentle tap on your shoulder to find Lana from your ethical AI class, smiling at you warmly. She looks a little tired, of people more than the time. Like you, she is also a scholarship student—and not a day has gone when she hasn’t soothed your anxiety about your classes. In stark contrast with Yangyang, you would trust her over him for most tasks. Even if you weren’t partners, you’re okay with the outcome. You glance at Yangyang.

“(name)! Oh my god, I didn’t know you were coming here,” she says. “Did Yangyang kidnap you?” 

“I mean, sort of.”

“Hey.” Yangyang looks at you with betrayal.

“And how did you even manage to do that cool ass project with him as your partner?” she continues, squinting at him.

“Honestly, I don’t know either. He can be surprisingly helpful though.”

Yangyang looks from Lana to you in exasperation. “I’m literally right here,” he grumbles. 

Lana laughs at his expression, patting his shoulder sympathetically. 

“I just can’t believe you let him kidnap you and not me,” she says in mock indignance. “I’m a much better chauffeur, you know?”

“Do you even have a driving license?” Yangyang asks, laughing.

“I got mine before you, rat. Anyway, (name), I’m playing the guzheng. Do you wanna come see?”

“No,” Yangyang interrupts, suddenly grabbing your hand. “I… I mean you guys can go, of course. It's just the countdown’s close, so we have to go to the viewpoint.”

“That’s exactly where—ah. I see.”

"We'll join you another time, Lana," he says quietly, a cute grin on his face like a little boy would make to an older sister for more shares of chocolate. 

"No, no. I actually remembered I left my friends in the corner. See you!"

She leaves her epiphany unsaid, offering you a smile and taking her leave abruptly.

“I thought you told me to socialize,” you complain to Yangyang. 

“Yes, I’m so proud of you for that.”

“Yangyang, I swear if you treat me like a kid—”

“I’m not, I’m not. Sorry,” he says, scratching the back of his head. “I just need to borrow you for tonight. After all, I promised you, didn’t I?”

You sigh. “Fine then, what’s this viewpoint you’re talking about?”

“Oh, we’ll get there.”

Someone’s watching you. You turn around a full three-sixty but find only the same crowd of college-age kids. No one sticks out much, apart from Dejun, Kunhang and Ten, who are at this point performing some sort of strange ritual unbeknownst to any new year tradition, with a hell load of yelling.

“Oh my god, you’re dancing too?” Yangyang says, grinning ear to ear. “I didn’t know I’d have that much of a positive influence. Wow.”

“I’m- I’m not- never mind.”

Yangyang furrows his eyebrows. “What did I tell you? More confidence! See—”

He takes your hands in his, pulling you further onto the dance floor. You feel a rising panic but swallow it. There’s a beat of silence in which the two of you look at each other. Yangyang proceeds to perform the stupidest sequence of movements you have ever seen, certainly too awkward for his body to accept as natural but it doesn’t seem like he cares. He’s having fun.

You find yourself laughing. Taking timid steps, you try to loosen up although the inevitable embarrassment arrives in flushes of heat across your face. There are stars in Yangyang’s eyes when you join him—not the artificial jewels in observatories but the real kind that you used to see in your hometown.

You take a wobbly step back. It’s starting to get disorienting. If it were the real sky above you, you might even have felt better. Perhaps the purpose is to get dizzy.

“I’m a little thirsty,” Yangyang says, motioning to the table with food and drinks at a corner. “I’ll head over and be back.”

Unsure what to do, you follow him like a lost lamb and though it would be embarrassing at any other time, any other place, now and here are not part of that.

The red and golden lights of the neon patterning the walls don’t seem as harsh anymore and you let your eyes rest on the boyish figure of Yangyang. You haven’t figured him out yet. Something tells you he’s more than a shallow image of the party-loving rich kids of Shanghai. In fact, in quiet, personal moments, he looks more out of place than you do—despite all that bright neon. You open your mouth to ask something when you’re interrupted by a dizzy Yangyang spinning into you. 

“Sorry, (name),” he says, rubbing the base of his palm against his forehead. “I genuinely thought I was going to win that game.”

You shake your head, letting him get back to whatever spinning game they were at. He smells like wine and something tells you he’s poor at holding his liquor. The stakes must be high for that game, you figure, because you see Yangyang set aside his beloved shoe on the floor. To be the only scholarship student here suddenly feels scary and awkward.

Yangyang once again tugs at your arm, the touch reassuring as though he understands how you feel. But it isn’t true. There’s no way someone like him can understand someone like you.

“Yangyang,” you call. “Do you come here every year?”

“No, no. I do come for drinks though. I’m only here right now because a friend is hosting this.”

You shrug.

“And you,” he adds and you feel a hot flush rise to your face. “New years are the only time this place is PG-13.”

“I’m not a child,” you snap.

“My mom says childish people say that.”

“Then it's very rich coming from you, Liu Yangyang.”

He laughs heartily, leaning away. A creeping thought grows in your head that you missed out on a lot. But then again, you’ll always miss out on things if you’re not rich enough for them.

Yangyang flinches suddenly, almost knocking a plate off the table. He moves quickly, turning so that his side leans against the wall and the other arm cages you between him and the wall. His frame covers your view from whatever, or whoever arrived at the entrance that made him react so obnoxiously.

However, his lips hovering just a little over yours makes your breath hitch in your throat. This is the worst possible position you could've gotten into. The smell of mint interrupts your thoughts and you look at him with as annoyed an expression as you can muster over the heat of your face.

"Yangyang, what the fuck do you think you're doing?"

“I am… admiring the wall. Ooh, it’s got velvet over it, did you notice?”

 “You’re going to have your head in it too if you don’t tell me what’s going on.”

"Just… sorry. Let’s stay like this for a few moments."

He flashes you an apologetic smile, his face close enough to make yours grow even hotter. A nervous chuckle erupts from his lips. 

"Oh my god, get off. People are going to think we’re making out."

"We could do it for real." 

"I'm going to scratch your eyes out."

"Sorry, sorry."

“Who are you even hiding from?”

“I’m not hiding… okay, forget that. Bodyguard-watcher-dude. It’s kind of hard to explain.”

“You have a bodyguard?”

“More like a babysitter.”

You try not to laugh, considering the proximity between your faces. “How come you have a babysitter? Actually, wait, I think I know.”

He huffs over your face and you restrain yourself from landing a swift uppercut to his jaw. Now you know the minty smell comes from mouth freshener.

“He’s a prosecutor. It’s weird that he stalks me in his free time. Even- even if… my parents are paying him.”

“They think you’re doing something illegal?”

“No. I don’t think I am.”

You rest your head back against the wall, rolling your eyes. “Really? That’s your answer? God, your brain cells rotted somewhere along the way, didn’t they? It’s all those parties.”

“I’m starting to feel like my mom hired you too.”

He looks back, and noting the absence of his so-called babysitter, he pulls back from you. You didn’t realize you were holding your breath and you let it out in a shallow effort.

“Your babysitter’s gone?”

“Not a babysit—I regret saying that. Look, I really don’t think they appointed him because they think I’m doing something illegal. I have never done anything illegal. Except that one street race but that’s because Lucas told me it was perfectly legal.”

“The what?”

“Anyway, the point is, let’s look forward to good fortune for this year, hm? Leave all the burdens to last year.”

“Fortune doesn’t favour fools.”

“I’m not stupid,” he complains, spreading his arms to express it further. “Mostly.”

 You laugh, turning your attention to  the food table.

“Ooh, pineapple tarts,” he exclaims, hand reaching out to grab one when you smack it.

“You’ve had, like, fifteen already.”

“Mhm,” he says, with a few more stuffed in his mouth.

There’s a pause.

“It’s me, isn't it?” you ask quietly. “I’m not supposed to be here.”

He gulps, lips parting and closing. “I brought you here. So you don’t worry about it.”

Rich people suck. You believe that strongly. But sometimes, just sometimes, when you have everything you can ever want, you start to want the same for everyone around you. Some people are special. You find Yangyang genuinely fascinating for being someone who makes friends when he’s supposed to be making more connections. You find him fascinating. 

It makes sense for someone like him to be the way he is.

iv. fireworks viewpoint

“That’s the old Shanghai Tower,” Yangyang points to a building in the distance. “It used to be the tallest building once but… well, it looks like the little guy now.”

Lunar New Year’s celebrations are a big, big deal in New Shanghai. It means a break from university, work and every other affair to have as many priorities sorted in anticipation of the new year. And the impact is evident from this height, when you can see the city in its golden glory. It looks warm out there for once—although you’re not very sure if it’s because of the warmth that comes from right beside you. The little wooden boats float by on the river a little far off, various images blooming as holograms above them. You giggle at the large animated fishes swimming above the river with blank expressions and painted button eyes. 

The golden clock shines bright in the sky, its holographic hands ticking down to midnight. It looks like something out of a fantasy movie, scattering golden pixels everywhere with each minute passing. The size of it alone reminds you of the scale of this city.

This is an empire. It's owned by the kings and queens who built it over the bones left from sacrifices. It's going to be owned by heirs and heiresses. You feel a looming sense of dread come over you. It's so beautiful and it can never belong to itself. It must always belong to someone. It’s the terms and conditions of human creation.

"Hey." Yangyang taps you on the shoulder and you try not to flinch. "What are you thinking?"

You hum. "Stuff."

"This place is pretty cool, huh?"

That, you can agree with. "It is. It's so amazing that I can't believe I'm here sometimes."

Yangyang laughs slowly. "I hope more people can live here. Not in level one. You know. No one should live in desperation."

You hold back a scoff, though you end up frowning. What does a rich kid know of desperation? He might as well be prince, and princes do not know how to beg. It must be something of a saviour complex. You shrink away from him. The new year music is starting to ring a little too loud in your ears.

"That would be difficult," you mutter.

"Not if you lower the cost of living conditions—ah. Sorry." He pauses and you feel a flicker of surprise in you. “It’s not appropriate to discuss. Or so my parents tell me…”

The expression comes from empathy. You’re sure of it. There’s some sort of passion and not the kind of coloured fire that flames up in parties, but a different one. The kind that says, if you can’t bear the heat then you can’t learn how to forge. You scoff. Which prince has possibly known heat?

“I- I get angry too,” you say quietly. “I think it’s something to be angry about.”

He smiles at you, leaning against the balcony railing. 

You’re interrupted by a man in the attire of a waiter and it causes the two of you to jump away from each other. It’s not like you were very close in the first place but the proximity of shared words can play tricks on people. The man offers the two of you a screen and Yangyang’s face lights up almost immediately.

“We can order food with this,” he says. “Or book a table. The top strips are all reserved for members of the club. That’s the big daddy restaurants.”

“That’s… pretty cool,” you say, leaning in to glance over the browsing menu. “But don’t say that phrase to me again.”

“I can. And I will.”

“Ugh. Move on.”

“Okay, so we should drop by the convenience store for some ramen. I heard they taste better in the middle of the night,” Yangyang suggests all of a sudden, leaning in further.

It gets difficult sometimes to not be bothered by him, especially when there is a lack of distance. You look at him, pause and then sigh. “Sure. I guess. Are those free too?”

He opens his mouth in sudden realization and grins sheepishly at you. You roll your eyes.

“Do you have money then?”

“Uh.”

“How do you not have money? It’s the New Year!”

“I… uh—”

“Okay, you don’t have to answer that. But I’m not paying for you,” you complain. “You could always ask your parents for some money. What’s the point of being a party kid?”

‘Party kids’—it makes you laugh in amusement—is the colloquial term given to the children of businesspeople who had a direct hand in the economic progress of New Shanghai. You would sell your kidneys to be one and it still wouldn’t be enough.

His smile wavers at your statement but he shakes his head. “If I call my mom, she’ll start scolding me again about how my apartment room needs to be cleaner. Blah, blah, blah. You know.”

“She’s right- wait, you don’t clean your room?”

“Don’t take her side, (name).” 

You bite down a smile and he offers you his biggest one. 

“Oh, that place looks new,” Yangyang exclaims, a long index finger pointing to the preview of a sushi restaurant. You glare at him, his face nearer to yours than you would prefer but his eyes are fixed like a child ogling halloween candy.

“Let’s go,” he urges, looking directly at you. 

You furrow your eyebrows, shaking your head vehemently. “We don’t have money. Or bit-credits.”

He sighs, deflating as though you just snatched the candy right from his hands. “But… I haven’t been there before.”

“So?” You exhale, pinching the bridge of your nose. “You don’t have to try every food place in the city.”

“I need to eat,” he says as though it’s a very reasonable response. “I’m still growing!”

“Not mentally.”

He drops his smile, looking at you blankly. “You don’t have to get so smart with me, let me tell you.”

You snicker at the ‘offended’ expression on his face.

In the next moment, your attention shifts to the sudden crowd of people rushing to the balcony. Yangyang pulls you closer to avoid getting pushed by them, and you look around confused. It all makes sense when they start chanting the numbers, counting down from ten. You can only stare in awe at the clock and the otherworldly glee in the rhythmic chants. It’s like they don’t feel anything but joy at this moment. You let yourself smile.

The clock strikes twelve. The sound of the bell resounds throughout the city and the firecrackers burst into a thousand shades of red and gold across the sky. There’s moving images of animals, floating text and other animations which make the night sky seem like a screen. The sparks of the fireworks look like golden snow, or even happy little pixels.

You point your finger to the sky excitedly but when you turn, Yangyang’s eyes aren’t on the sky but on your hand outstretched towards it. He faces you, rather hesitantly as though caught red-handed.

“You’re- you’re… so pretty,” he says, softly and shrugging as if answering a question.

You wish he wouldn’t look at you like that. It’s the lonely speaking, right? The euphoria of human connection in this time and age—it can make you believe anything. There’s a myriad of colours blooming in the sky behind you, a city dazzling with diamond and ruby lights, people with much more stories to tell than you do. This city, this city, this city. This city will break your heart. 

“It’s kind of crappy,” you mutter, to which Yangyang quirks an ear.

“Wh-what is?”

“This city. It’s got bright lights and fun and all those promises of success. But all I see are people desperately trying to survive. All I see are the same faces at the top and—I’m sorry. I’m getting carried away.”

“No, no.” He makes a vague gesture. “I’m listening.”

“We’re at their mercy,” you whisper. “My life is not my own. That’s crappy.”

Yangyang hums in response. “You're right. What’s the point of living a life that’s not your own?”

Looking at him again, you see the entire figure of his being against the fireworks and all the beautiful creations of the human race. His almost silver hair falls perfectly by his forehead, the contact lenses looking like glazed frost over his eyes. Just as vibrant and excessive as the city itself, Yangyang belongs here. This is his kingdom. 

No, that’s not quite right perhaps. Yangyang belongs anywhere because he brings warmth. You're suddenly grateful he's with you because no one you know would possibly go out of their way to make you feel comfortable like this. You know Yangyang loves people and crowds. No one would do that for you at the expense of their own enjoyment. You smile at the prospect of solving the blinding mystery that he is.

"We… should leave," Yangyang says, all of a sudden. He eyes a man at the corner of the balcony, dressed in a business suit and looking blank. He sticks out like a sore thumb. You're not sure why he's in that getup.

"Okay," you say, not sure why you're so agreeable tonight.

Maybe it's the night. Sometimes all you can do is drag your feet over the asphalt and hope it'll be sunnier tomorrow.

v. two-four-seven convenience store

College boys are the most god-awful creatures on earth.

“Hey, do you always reach class on time?” Yangyang asks, eyes curious. He keeps asking a question every five minutes or so, trying to keep up conversation. You've already told him he doesn't have to. However, it makes you strangely comfortable to hear the sound of his voice periodically. You won't tell him that.

You nod, returning your gaze to the window, though the advertisements block your view. You can always try skipping the ad every five goddamn seconds. 

It's your first time riding the train that travels through the Mobius Strip, and certainly the first time in a luxury cabin. Since it’s free for members of the new year club, you can heave a sigh of relief. You will never in your life, even if it’s genetically elongated, ever be able to afford a luxury cabin.

"Oh, that looks so good," Yangyang says, large hand smacking against the window to get rid of the colourful advertisements. 

"It's a convenience store, Yangyang," you say. "It's got everyday ramen."

"No, look. It's a different brand. And they're giving a burger for free with two ramen cups!"

You furrow your eyebrows at him. "Well, I guess it's cheaper too."

"Oh, we can go to one of the upper restaurants too. They're free, remember?"

"I like convenience stores," you mumble. There's something about the lack of even lighting and crowds that made them a comfort spot for you.

“Quick,” he says, pulling you off the seat when the train stops.

“Yangyang!” you warn. He's so easily excitable that you find it hard to believe he's real sometimes.

However, when he turns around with his big puppy-dog eyes, you curse at yourself before you curse at him. Sighing, you follow him down the steps, his hand tenderly holding yours. Sometimes, you wonder if the human touch means anything at all in this diamond and steel era. Yangyang’s palm is warm against yours.

The ramen tastes awfully delicious on stolen time, and you would complain more if it weren’t for Yangyang looking at you with so serene a look. It annoys you and you try to grab his attention by waving your chopsticks in front of him. When it doesn’t work, you resort to swearing. You’ve never seen anyone respond with a smiling hum after being told to “eat shit”.

“Oh, this tastes so good,” he states, cheeks puffed with food. “I think I’m going to cry.”

“I- I think you’re crying because it’s spicy.”

“Oh.”

As usual, Yangyang pokes and prods at you with questions about your daily life, like you’re the most interesting thing in a city full of blinding lights, world-class robots and cyber-enhanced technology. You don’t understand how he doesn’t just grow tired of asking every single detail about you.

Apart from the fact that Liu Yangyang is most certainly an environmental hazard, some part of you cannot believe that he's truly terrible. There's something innocent about him, but all at once, something quiet and mysterious. 

“Why are you always so curious, Yangyang?” you ask finally. “Why are you always running off to different places?”

“Because experiences never come twice,” he answers after some thinking. It seems to be a little difficult for him to articulate, deep contemplation over his features when he continues. “This city… all the lights and clubs and arenas, all of it will be gone someday. Like we don’t have telephones or those big computers anymore.”

You rest your chin on your palm, leaning in.

“This moment, right here with you… I’ll never experience it again,” he tells you. “We can have more midnight convenience store ramen sometime later but… each time will be different. I’d rather live now.”

You smile softly. “That’s a funny thought to live by.”

“Yours isn’t any better,” he says, patting your head. “Also, I’m like hot and young and popular and not a cyborg—how can I miss parties?”

You shake your head, laughing. He’s ridiculous. He’s completely ridiculous. In that moment, when you look at him, Yangyang seems to be smiling in a daze, eyes on your face.

“You look nice when you smile,” he says quietly.

"Thanks," you respond. "I should keep it a secret then, huh?"

"Not from me," he says, smiling. 

Somehow, the extra minutes you have at the convenience store turn to a few multiplayer games and then, ditching technology, to an arm wrestling match.

"I feel like this game is kind of unfair," you say after losing almost immediately. He's clearly got stronger muscles. Does he work out? Probably against his will, you bet.

“My right arm’s a lot stronger than my left arm,” he says, before looking a little horrified. “That wasn’t a masturbation joke, by the way. I am so sorry.”

You roll your eyes. "Give me your left hand then- wait. You're right-handed?"

"That's not the- uh." He thinks for a moment, trying to gather words. “That’s not the reason.”

“I, uh, I heavily damaged this arm when I was a kid—don’t look like that, there’s a fun part to this. It’s made of titanium! And some other things. The names are too complicated.”

You drive your fingers over the arm, so warm and real and flushed red, anything but metal and code. You find curiosity blooming in you more than ever before.

“You know why I’m not with family,” you say, straightening. “But why aren’t you celebrating with your family?” 

He gets quiet, thinking to himself for a few more moments. You almost regret asking when he answers, a hesitant sound leaving him first.

“None of us, uh… none of our parents can spare more than three hours. They’ll come in the afternoon tomorr—today.”

You can’t exactly respond to that very well.

“So all of us go hang out at the New Year’s Club.”

You frown. "But it's not a celebration without family!"

"We have new year lunches. And… it's the future. Traditions die. Very few grieve them for fear of being stuck in the past."

You feel partly horrified and partly dismal. "I… You could come with me next year, if you like."

You're not sure where the offer comes from but Yangyang lights up at the idea.

"I can? Oh, we'll have so much fun!"

"Slow down. There's a year to go."

Yangyang laughs. It's surprising the way he turned out. He must have gotten tired of waiting by the door. And now you know all the things about him that his parents don’t.

You smile at him, warming up to the idea of you and him as friends before scoffing at it again.

Right in the next moment, Yangyang dips suddenly to the ground, crouching below the table. You look around in surprise and fall to your knees with a yelp at the tug on our wrist from Yangyang.

“What the hell?” you hiss. “You’re starting to act really weird.”

“I- Sorry. It’s an emergency,” he says, but there’s no sign of distress in his voice. He simply smiles at you. Perhaps he’s never heard of the emotion as of yet.

“Your babysitter?”

“I say that once and on accident—yes, it’s my babysitter.”

You chuckle. He’s simply too cute at times. 

“We have to be discreet now, okay? It’s like—what’s the movie called? Oh, Mission Impossible.”

“I’ve never seen that.”

“What? How can you not? It’s a classic! It’s got so many cool—ah, I’ll show you another time.”

You hum, staring at Yangyang’s facial features tense up and relax again as he scans the vicinity outside the window of the convenience store. It’s full of people, even at this hour so you can’t possibly know who’s looking at you from there.

Yangyang turns back to you. “Have you ever been to blue moon station?”

“The one with the pretty walls? No. No, I’ve never even gone beyond Strip Two.”

Yangyang smiles at you and right then, you feel like you’re about to resent whatever’s going to happen next. It’s in the ebb and flow of tonight’s itinerary, however, and you relax your shoulders just as he does a roll across the floor, looking back at you with a grin for executing it flawlessly. 

“You’re so silly,” you mutter. 

“I heard that,” he whisper-shouts back.

You’re not as afraid as before, you realize. The lights are absolutely mesmerizing.

vi. blue moon station

It drops a few degrees in temperature once you step foot onto the platform. You can see a bunch of scattered tourists, cameras hanging around their neck and a look of awe over their faces. 

Yangyang takes off his jacket, shivering immediately but offering it to you nonetheless. When you refuse, he places it gingerly over your shoulders.

"Is that a…?"

"A tourist bot, yes."

"Oh my god, it's so cute," you say, crouching by the little red robot, a teal-colored smiley face popping up on its monitor.

"A lot of tourists in this station," you note.

"Yeah. It's very… visually pleasing."

That's true. The walls are screens with three dimensional graphics, immersive enough to catch one's eye. A single tree grows through the middle of the station, evergreen and alive with holographic flora and fauna. The sun shines eternally over the tree. It's so beautiful that you had trouble taking your eyes off it at first.

The walls next to you are currently displaying a walk through a fantasy forest, crafted by a visionary artist, no doubt. A blue butterfly flies past you and you stare at it before zoning out.

Sometimes, the lights are too disorienting. You start to feel dizzy, massaging your forehead when Yangyang brushes the tips of his fingers against your shoulder.

“You good?”

Yangyang crouches beside you with watchful eyes.

You nod, turning your attention to the tourist bot. It displays a plethora of information about the architecture of this place which you're sure no tourist will bother to read beyond the first two lines. 

“You can make it do cool tricks too,” Yangyang says. “Watch.”

Yangyang pokes at it with his index finger, drawing a pattern over the screen. The bot proceeds to do an old internet dance, waving about its arms and hips. You laugh at it and Yangyang looks at you with the pride of a third grader with first place on their science project.

The colours on the walls change and you see the animation of a man and a fox, furrowing your eyebrows as you try to recall that image. They seem to be broadcasting fables through the holograms. You can’t deny that they’re pretty—glowing with auspicious colours and as animated as the real world itself. As if by compulsion, you hold Yangyang’s hand. It’s nice to feel the human touch real once in a while, especially in the overwhelming loneliness of city nights.

Yangyang looks at you brightly and right then, you feel less inclined to leave him.

“You know, I could teach you better ways to flirt than just grab my hand,” he says, grinning like an idiot.

“What?” 

You move your hand. “I’m not flirting.”

“Sorry, I didn’t mean that,” he responds quickly. “Can I please have your hand back?”

You shake your head, laughing. He worries you. Some part of you says you shouldn’t be worried. It’s not like you’re close friends. (Friends, maybe. Close, not yet.)

The night has a different opinion.

—

“Found you,” a voice declares, and the two of you jump into each other with a scream.

The man in the suit looks at you with a fatigued look in his eyes, hair somehow still neat though he breathes like his lungs are on fire. 

“Care to tell me why you’ve been skipping my calls?” he asks after catching his breath. “It’s not like I wanted to follow you—you just needed to tell me.”

“I… I was busy?” Yangyang flashes a smile. “Kun-ge, I honestly had no idea you called. I don’t even have my phone.”

The man shakes his head. “Fine. Just head over to Jasmine for the night. And you can bring your date too.”

He gestures at you and you want to deny it as quick as you can. You do not, however. It’s almost like you’ve warmed up to the idea of it rather well.

“Okay,” Yangyang answers quietly. 

vii. jasmine private lounge

You enter a lounge with the capacity of around a hundred people. Despite that, there are hardly five present. The walls are black with neon jasmines pulsating from blue to red. A grand piano lies still in all its elegance in the middle of the lounge, played by a plain white AI. It feels like an expensive place to be, and more so, it feels like someplace you’re not supposed to step foot into. There's a bar table at one side, opposite to the entrance which glows a hypnotizing purple. A flat lettering on the wall declares the time to be 3 A.M.

You and Yangyang sit a little too close on the artificially warmed couch, waiting for Kun to return. Yangyang reassures you that you haven't done anything wrong but the illicit outing of yours certainly says otherwise. You contemplate tasting the cocktail Yangyang ordered before finally giving in and find it pleasantly warm to taste. You take another sip.

“It’s a little strong,” Yangyang warns. “Don’t have all of—you had all of it.”

You shrug. Your throat certainly feels better now. This lounge is fucking cold.

"You know, Yangyang," you say with the warmth of confidence on your face. "You're a really nice guy."

He smiles incredulously. "Thanks. You're really nice too."

"And you're pretty decent-looking—"

"I know that."

"—and also popular. So why are you always hanging around me?"

"Uh, that's your question?"

You nod. Placing your cheek against your palm, you try not to sink into the couch.

"Because you're really cool!" He answers before clearing his throat. "I mean. I think you're fun to be around. You make me see things clearer."

"And what exactly are you wanting to see clearer?'

"You."

You blink aside your astoundment, straightening. "What?"

Your question is left unanswered because a man enters and sits across the two of you, a loud huff of annoyance leaving his mouth. It's not just his disposition but the architecture of his face that grabs your attention. He looks like an AI robot so perfectly crafted with coloured lips and flawless skin that you end up staring till Yangyang elbows you.

“He’s not an AI,” Yangyang whispers.

You furrow your brows and notice it is, in fact, true that he's not an AI. There are no ridges over the joints or hollowness in the eyes. He wears the same frost-patterned smart lenses as Yangyang does. However, it doesn't change the fact that the man is beautiful to look at.

“I’m never hosting a new year party again,” he mutters, sinking into the couch.

“It actually sounds kind of fun,” Yangyang interjects. “I can’t wait for my turn.”

“I’m sorry. Good luck standing at Longhua temple for three hours till midnight just to make sure nothing goes wrong. Without dinner.”

Yangyang makes a face at that.

"That's Sicheng-ge," he says, turning to you. 

"Ah," you say in response, remembering the name vaguely. 

"He let us into Club 2," Yangyang says, noticing your lost expression.

"I think Kun's looking for you," Sicheng says, eyes trained at the back. 

His hands fidget with the dim blue buttons at the edge of the table, till a small compartment reveals itself under the glass. An old world-style cigarette is slowly pushed up and Sicheng picks it up. He offers the next one to Yangyang, who accepts it hesitantly. No one smokes tobacco anymore when nicotine is so readily available. Alas, human nature is to want things deadly and out of reach.

“So how’s Cat?” Yangyang asks, fumbling with the plasma lighter he picked from a compartment on the side.

Sicheng smiles a little, the smoke from his cigarette snaking around him as he raises a hand to dissipate it.

“She’s doing fine. Running everything as usual.”

“Of course. Boss lady.” Yangyang does an awkward salute.

“Oh, a new hair color too. As pretty as flower fields in the spring of ‘22.”

Sicheng’s lovesick rambling is interrupted by Yangyang hacking his lungs out. You turn to him and he avoids your gaze, reaching for a crystal blue  glass of water one of the helper bots offer. So, he’s not even a smoker? Why did he think you would care? 

“Anyway, Kun is glaring daggers at me now. You better get out of here.” Sicheng grimaces.

You turn around to see Kun by the bar table, gesturing towards Yangyang to come. You're not sure why but either of those men make you nervous. 

"I'll be right back," Yangyang says, scrambling up and leaving you in a long awkward silence with Sicheng.

“So, uh, I’m assuming you’re oblivious to that lovestruck puppy following you around?” Sicheng asks, raising an eyebrow. “Or is this some game you guys are into? I’m not judging you for that.”

Your face heats up and you fidget with your collar. “The- A what? Game? Uh? I- huh?”

Sicheng tries to press down his smile but it’s evident enough for you to see. Did you say something funny? Did Yangyang say something funny about you? Oh, you’re going to kill him.

“For all that he talks, he’s kind of terrible at pulling together his own love life.” 

“I- I’m not sure what you’re talking about.”

It still unnerves you to look at him. He certainly looks more android than human when he’s not making any particular expression.

“Don’t mind me,” he says, offering you a reassuring smile. “You should find Yangyang before he lands the two of you in trouble.”

You turn to look at Yangyang through the glass and turn back nodding. Sicheng offers you a parting smile and you hesitantly make your way to the bar table.

"This isn't in my job description," Kun tells Yangyang just before you arrive. "I didn't know being a lawyer included babysitting."

The tips of Yangyang's ears heat up when he notices you.

"It's not babysitting," he murmurs. “Also, you’re not my mom.”

"You, Ten, Kunhang, all of you give me such a hard time," he continues but pauses right when he notices you. 

"Oh, hello. (Name), isn't it?" He says, smiling politely. He's quite young and handsome for a lawyer. "Yangyang talks about you a lot."

"Oh," you respond. "Really?"

Yangyang glares at the older man. "You don't have to say everything, Kun-ge."

"You interested in law?" Kun asks, offering you a seat between him and Yangyang.

You make a face. The law is a tool for the rich and powerful. But then again, what isn’t? The world is in your hands when you have billions to spare. However, you still can’t imagine being a rich man's guard dog your whole life.

Kun chuckles. "You kids are interested in tech more, aren't you?"

Yangyang interrupts, "You talk like you're fifty years old."

Kun grimaces, resting his face against his hand. Shooting a glare at Yangyang, he finishes the rest of his wine.

You're not exactly interested in tech or engineering or the big kid jobs either. You just want a way to survive this man-made food chain. Rich eats the world till there’s nothing left on the plate. Then again, you'd rather be a pet than get eaten.

"Anyway," Kun turns to Yangyang. "If you see Ten, give me a call."

Yangyang signals with a thumbs up gesture, watching as Kun’s figure slowly makes its way out of the gate. It’s the two of you again and suddenly, you feel a strange sort of feeling overcome you. Leaning your throbbing forehead against Yangyang’s shoulder, you take some soft breaths and skip the part where you question your actions. It’s pleasant, at the very least. He shifts his chair closer, extending his arm around you so that your head rests against his shoulder more comfortably.

“You must be tired,” he mutters.

“You didn’t answer me,” you say. “Answer in a way I understood, at least.”

“Hm?”

“Why do you hang around me?”

“Do you not… want me to?”

“No. I like your company, actually. I can’t believe I said that out loud.”

Yangyang laughs. “You’re… you’re really perfect. As a person. At least to me, you seem that way.”

You scoff. “You’re a long way off there.”

“No. No, you felt like clockwork,” he continues. “When I first met you. I couldn’t believe you were real.”

You do work like a delirious robot on clockwork steroids. But you’re not very proud of it. You don’t think overworking is a good personality trait to have—even if it’s for survival. However, the faraway look in Yangyang’s eyes suggests that’s not what he means.

“I felt like I understood you,” he continues after a short pause.

You find it unbelievable. That’s the one sentence you could never imagine coming from him to you, much less agree with. But right then, as his warmth seeps into you, you want to agree desperately.

Yangyang feels an unexpected trickle of doubt down his throat. No matter how many times he’s practised in front of the mirror, the words don’t come out right when you’re with him. With everything you do, he feels more drawn in. There’s something familiar and something honest. And if he’s honest himself, he just likes you. What sort of a hypocrite should he be categorized as, to tell his friends to ‘just confess’ to their crushes when he’s a complete idiot when it comes to you? It can’t be that little voice from his childhood that tells him to stay in order.

Yangyang understands that there are rules to this world but he doesn’t get what those have got to do with him. He sighs, the sound somewhat grim when it comes from him.

"I've seen it before," he says, "People come from all over the country with hopes and dreams, and they get their hearts broken by capitalism."

You frown.

"I don't want you to go anywhere," he mumbles. "I hope you'll stay… even if- even if you feel like that, you know? If you're feeling lonely, I could—"

"Yangyang." You smile. "I’m quite comfortable here."

When you bury your nose into the crook of his neck, Yangyang thinks this is it. This is how he ends the sorry excuse of flirting he’s been trying with you and says something he regrets. It was never this difficult with the other crushes he’s had. He’s always left opening his mouth and then promptly closing it like a goldfish out of water every single time he wants to bring up dating with you. He’s always honest. So, what’s the big deal this time? This is so horrendously not cool of him.

You straighten. “We should get back home.”

“Can you- Can you not move so far from me, please?” Yangyang murmurs, hands gripping yours.

You smile, to yourself more to him but that’s one he likes the most.

“You’re a really interesting person, Yangyang.”

“I am?” He clears his throat and repeats the question. 

“How are you so nice to people?”

“I think people are nice.”

“Why do you like parties?”

“They’re fun.”

“When the party’s over, who do you go to?” you ask, words mushing into each other.

“Home,” he answers, gulping down what seems like more words. “Like always.”

A hush falls between the two of you. You’re asking quite the questions.

“I’m sweaty,” you mutter. “I hate being sweaty.”

“You look wonderful though,” Yangyang mumbles, more to himself than to you. “Not that being sweaty makes you wonderful. You’re just nice.”

There’s another hush, the notes of the piano playing a faraway, romantic tune. He turns away and looks back at you again, but right in that moment, you lean forward to press your lips against his. It’s so sudden that he almost falls over backwards, his feet planted firmly on the ground the only thing preventing that from happening. The next thing he thinks is that your lips are on fire and it’s the most comfortable feeling he’s ever experienced. 

The two of you fit into each other like clockwork, Yangyang thinks. It’s the one thing in his life that feels whole. Not that he isn’t whole by himself—he just loves your warmth. For a moment he feels like he’s on cloud nine and the next, his heart plummets when he feels you go limp in his arms. 

It breaks his heart a little but he doesn’t—can’t bring himself to say much. He’s not this bad when he’s drunk, is he? Pulling you up by the waist, he texts Kunhang to bring his car down to the lounge.

This is going to be a long night.

viii. home 

You wake up to the sun in your eyes and immediately know you're someplace you shouldn't be. This isn't your bed. The sun doesn't reach your bed in the morning. This isn’t the dormitory. You see a cubical alarm clock, a pixelated smiley face on it as it displays 10 A.M.

You get up and immediately shriek. You’re not wearing any clothes. Pulling the blanket up to your chin, you look around the room. It’s huge; the walls are multicolored with a little section opposite the bed reserved for photographs. There’s a lot of junk all over the floor that you don’t pay mind to when you notice Yangyang.

“Yangyang?!”

He rouses blinking slowly, hair going every which way and his eyes still unfocused. He looks like he’s had a difficult night.

“Why are you on the floor?” you ask, shrinking further into the ridiculously soft bed when he gets up. Massaging the back of his neck, he looks like he's looking at a mirage instead of a real live person. Unfortunately, he’s not wearing a shirt and you look away after a prolonged minute of staring. This is getting ridiculous. What are you doing here?

“Yangyang!”

“Huh? Oh!”

He seems to be finally awake. You should pop the question before it eats you alive.

"Did- Did we…?"

Yangyang blinks at you in confusion before a loud "oh" erupts from his mouth.

"No!" He says in between laughter. "No, we didn't. Oh my god, you’re so funny. You took off your clothes saying it's too hot and smacked me with them. I didn’t look, by the way.”

Your jaw drops. You can’t even form words through the pulsing headache.

“Your clothes are on the chair. And I didn’t touch your underwear. Out of respect."

You avoid eye contact in embarrassment. 

“And… well, you did kiss me once. Twice.”

You look up alarmed and he raises his arms in defense. 

“You- you were drunk so I had to push you off. You cried a little after that. Sorry.”

“Oh god.” You cover your face with your hands, sitting down on the bed. That has to be the most embarrassing thing you could have done.

“You- Don’t worry about that. You’re a good kisser. I was kind of surprised,” he offers in an attempt to make you feel better but you only grow hotter in the face.

“And- And I liked it,” he adds in a panic. “Wait, I don’t mean it in a creepy way.”

“I’m glad it wasn’t anyone else.”

“What?”

“You. It’s okay if it’s you.”

You give him a weak smile, still not over the embarrassment.

Yangyang laughs. “I… I think I should’ve said this before but… can I take you out on a date?”

“What were we doing last night then?”

“Well, that was- ah. You’re teasing me. Motherfucker.”

You giggle into your palm. When he takes a seat on the bed, you make a distressed sound and he jumps up immediately.

“My clothes,” you hiss. “Get out of the room so I can wear them.”

“Right,” he says, pointing an index finger at you.

He turns around right then. "By the way…"

You shriek, pulling the cover up all the way to your nose.

"Sorry," he says, averting his eyes immediately. "If- if that was a date, did you like it? Do you wanna go on another one?"

You can see him practically sweat bullets and you laugh at the innocuous questions. He’s too cute. You can’t believe you made yourself shake off the thought every time it crossed you. However indelicate his touch is, you welcome it nonetheless.

"Yes. Yes, I'll go on a date with you. You annoying, stupid, bratty idiot." 

“Okay, that was mean.”

Watching his figure leave through the door, you relax your shoulders. In the end, people will always be people. No matter what shiny new toy you give them to play with, people will always search for happiness, and they will laugh and cry and fall in love with people and places and things over and over again. It's lovely to be human in an era of diamond and steel.

#yangyang x reader #nct x reader #wayv x reader #yangyang scenarios #nct scenarios #wayv scenarios #yangyang fluff #nct fluff #wayv fluff #yangyang fanfic #nct fanfic #yangyang fic #moonwrites #dawg idk what im doing imma be honest here

[todorokies]

A LONG WALK - satoru gojo & suguru geto

✩࿐ a midnight summer stroll with your companions stirs certain emotions regarding self doubts & nostalgia . . .

contents: sfw, polygamous satosugu x reader (can be perceived as platonic or romantic), gn!reader, fluff & angst with some comfort, 1.3k words

a/n: based off of this fanart … pls support me by reblogging my work !!

the chilled summer breeze flows melodically through the air and finds its way swirling into your skin, arising small goosebumps on your exposed arms. you should’ve taken suguru’s advice into consideration by wearing a light cardigan for your midnight outing instead of leaving with a simple tank top.

albeit taken back by the breeze, you couldn’t be truly bothered by it, allowing the gentle wind to cascade your face caressing you softly like an embrace. with closed eyes, enjoyable fragments of your childhood flashes before your eyes with each rippling gust of currency.

your mother taking you to your first hanabi festival, getting your face painted with unique spiral patterns, the colourful loud sparks of light illuminating the sky as children’s laughs and adults’ excited clamours follows along with each firework.

your chest begins to rapidly ache by the supposedly fond memory, causing palpitations on your fragile heart. your innocence got unrightfully taken away at such a young age being forced to slave the rest of your life away to the occupation of a sorcerer, something you still haven’t come to terms with.

despite the roaring traffic in the centre of the city, a particular voice is able to pull your mind out of self imprisonment.

“a penny for your thoughts?” satoru appears standing by your side with two popsicles in one hand —one that is wrapped and the other unwrapped, presumably his.

you playfully scoff, reaching for the wrapped popsicle and satoru takes a seat next to you on the bench; your face must’ve been in clear discomfort for him to ask. “keep the penny, it’s nothing serious.” you attempt to wave off his concerns.

he nudges at your elbow, “if it’s causing you to look like you’re going through a midlife crisis on a park bench then it’s definitely serious, cmon spill it.” his words are lighthearted but voice is woven with sympathy.

“where’s suguru?” you dodge his inquiry “and you got me the shittiest flavour, really? nobody likes grape, you should know by now i’m a cherry type of person.”

satoru throws a complex glance your way but decides to not push it any farther, “he went to the convenience store to pick up some ingredients. i think he wanted to cook us beef stir-fry this time? not sure though.”

you hum in acknowledgment finding it a bit strange how he doesn’t press you for more information or your popsicle flavour statement. comfortable silence soon falls amongst you two, the frequent honking of cars and chatting of civilians keeps the streets lively. it’s a nice reminder that you’re never truly alone in such a big city as tokyo.

but alas, the warmth the eccentric city provided could never be enough to rebuild the wall of blissful ignorance you once had as a child. having to lick over the fresh wounds that reopen every time something triggers the painful truth of your inevitable death that will come from this line of work.

you must’ve been zoned out for quite some time because the grape popsicle began to melt and trickle down your hand landing in droplets on your pants.

“‘toru—” you begin but bite your tongue unaware of where to even start in your pursuit to find answers to calm your erratic mind.

“what does nostalgia feel like to you?” a stupid question indeed, as you watched satoru’s face twist and turn trying to either make sense of it or formulate his answer.

he soon replies, “it usually hits me in the face at the weirdest times, but when it does, it’s a bittersweet feeling that makes me glad i was able to experience it when i did.” he shrugs, licking at his almost-done blue popsicle.

“oh.”

“was that not the answer you were looking for?” he frowns, peering at you through his sunglasses.

“no, it’s not that, whenever i feel nostalgic it’s a gross gut wrenching feeling that seriously makes me ill. i hate it.” you truthfully express yourself.

“well, there’s no right or wrong way of feeling nostalgic, it just stems from how intense you feel about that specific memory.” his words flow casually as if this topic was second nature to him.

you huff, “since when did you become so insightful and wise?” you attempt at a joke to lighten the dull mood.

he laughs. the type of laugh where his snowy white hair bounces rhythmically with each chuckle that emerges from his throat “oh stop that! i’ve always been big brained with knowledge.”

another fit of comfortable silence washes over until you felt the urge to break it, “y’know, sometimes i wish i could live in the past forever… the present is too painful at times.”

satoru demeanour falters as an unfamiliar emotion glistens in his eyes then disappears shortly after. his eyebrows furrow causing creases in the middle, he nibbles at his bottom lip with a visible hurt expression distorting his face, “are me and suguru not enough for you?” he immediately regrets the words as soon as they leave his mouth.

satoru isn’t religious by any means, but he’d like to thank whoever is higher above for making it possible that you and suguru have crossed paths with him. you both complete him and give him a sense of purpose to continue what he deems he does best at; protecting. satoru prefers to live in the present with his loved ones, not the past. hearing those string of words from you caused a small pit in his stomach to erupt.

your eyes widen, “no! that’s not what i meant—”

“sorry for the long wait, i had trouble deciding if i should buy teriyaki sauce or we should just make it ourselves.” suguru comes into view from the sidewalk with a grocery bag in hand and a popsicle in the other. his eyes dart between you and satoru, already sensing unspoken tension, “everything okay?” he quirks an eyebrow up.

“yup!” satoru responds with obvious faux glee. he stretches his legs then proceeds to get off the bench taking a quick peak in the grocery bag, “took you long enough though, we were gonna turn into skeletons soon.” he flicks suguru’s forehead then scurries off like a mouse farther down the sidewalk to avoid getting his foot stomped on.

you join suguru by his side to journey back to campus. he briefly recalls his sightings that included a newly opened karaoke bar and hydrangeas are finally in bloom having seen them on his way to the store.

“you should talk to him when we get back, let him cool off for a bit,” he refers back to satoru. his minty breath fanning against the shell of your ear, “i will, don’t worry.” you send a tight-lipped smile his way.

the walk back is peaceful. the breeze from before turned into clouds of humidity, grasshoppers chirped loudly replacing the buzzing traffic that has now quieted down, assuming everyone else is calling it a night as well.

suguru takes out his phone to check the time mumbling curses under his breath once he reads three-thirty-five am, “we should hurry back before yaga kills us.”

his words trigger something in you.

“do you think we’ll be able to survive in the long run?” you suddenly blurt out. your voice shakes as you attempt to shove the forming lump in your throat down.

context isn’t provided but suguru has a hunch of what you could be referring to. the air around gets thick and the world stills as he carefully thinks over many ways to respond to the difficult question with a simplified answer.

“i think—” he pauses, and glances over at you to see your glossy eyes reflect in the moonlight and his heart crumbles at the sight.

at the end of the day, you were all still children forced into a wretched society that measures self value to strength and was either discarded by the horrors that walked among this earth or the adults in charge of the hierarchy. 

“i think we should just protect who we can and cherish our possibly limited time together.”

tags: @tokyeoi @satocidal @yunymphs

reblogs & feedback is extremely appreciated <33

#gojo x reader #geto x reader #gojo x y/n #gojo x you #gojo smut #jujutsu kaisen #satoru x reader #gojou satoru x y/n #gojou satoru x reader #gojo fluff #gojo angst #getou x reader #getou suguru #getou suguru x you #geto suguru #geto x you #geto x y/n #satoru gojo x reader #getou suguru smut #getou suguru x reader #geto fluff #geto smut #geto angst #suguru geto #jjk x reader #jjk drabbles #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen drabbles

[beehunni62]

Fishskin Robes of the Ethnic Tungusic People of China and Russia

Oroch woman’s festive robe made of fish skin, leather, and decorative fur trimmings [image source].

Nivkh woman’s fish-skin festival coats (hukht), late 19th century. Cloth: fish skin, sinew (reindeer), cotton thread; appliqué and embroidery. Promised gift of Thomas Murray L2019.66.2, Minneapolis Institute of Art, Minnesota, United States [image source].

Back view of a Nivkh woman’s robe [image source].

Front view of a Nivkh woman’s robe [image source].

Women’s clothing, collected from a Nivkh community in 1871, now in the National Museum of Denmark. Photo by Roberto Fortuna, courtesy Wikimedia Commons [image source].

The Hezhe people 赫哲族 (also known as Nanai 那乃) are one of the smallest recognized minority groups in China composed of around five thousand members. Most live in the Amur Basin, more specifically, around the Heilong 黑龙, Songhua 松花, and Wusuli 乌苏里 rivers. Their wet environment and diet, composed of almost exclusively fish, led them to develop impermeable clothing made out of fish skin. Since they are part of the Tungusic family, their clothing bears resemblance to that of other Tungusic people, including the Jurchen and Manchu.

They were nearly wiped out during the Imperial Japanese invasion of China but, slowly, their numbers have begun to recover. Due to mixing with other ethnic groups who introduced the Hezhen to cloth, the tradition of fish skin clothing is endangered but there are attempts of preserving this heritage.

Hezhen woman stitching together fish skins [image source].

Top to bottom left: You Wenfeng, 68, an ethnic Hezhen woman, poses with her fishskin clothes at her studio in Tongjiang, Heilongjiang province, China December 31, 2019. Picture taken December 31, 2019 by Aly Song for Reuters [image source].

Hezhen Fish skin craft workshop with Mrs. You Wen Fen in Tongjian, China. © Elisa Palomino and Joseph Boon [image source].

Hezhen woman showcasing her fishskin outfit [image source].

Hezhen fish skin jacket and pants, Hielongiang, China, mid 20th century. In the latter part of the 20th century only one or two families could still produce clothing like this made of joined pieces of fish skin, which makes even the later pieces extremely rare [image source].

Detail view of the stitching and material of a Hezhen fishskin jacket in the shape of a 大襟衣 dajinyi or dajin, contemporary. Ethnic Costume Museum of Beijing, China [image source].

Hezhen fishskin boots, contemporary. Ethnic Costume Museum of Beijing, China [image source].

Although Hezhen clothing is characterized by its practicality and ease of movement, it does not mean it’s devoid of complexity. Below are two examples of ornate female Hezhen fishskin robes. Although they may look like leather or cloth at first sight, they’re fully made of different fish skins stitched together. It shows an impressive technical command of the medium.

赫哲族鱼皮长袍 [Hezhen fishskin robe]. Taken July 13, 2017. © Huanokinhejo / Wikimedia Commons, CC BY 4.0 [image source].

Image containing a set of Hezhen clothes including a woman’s fishskin robe [image source].

The Nivkh people of China and Russia also make clothing out of fish skin. Like the Hezhen, they also live in the Amur Basin but they are more concentrated on and nearby to Sakhalin Island in East Siberia.

Top to bottom left: Woman’s fish-skin festival coat (hukht) with detail views. Unknown Nivkh makers, late 19th century. Cloth: fish skin, sinew (reindeer), cotton thread; appliqué and embroidery. The John R. Van Derlip Fund and the Mary Griggs Burke Endowment Fund; purchase from the Thomas Murray Collection 2019.20.31 [image source].

Top to bottom right: detail view of the lower hem of the robe to the left after cleaning [image source].

Nivkh or Nanai fish skin boots from the collection of Musée du quai Branly -Jacques Chirac. © Marie-Lan Nguyen / Wikimedia Commons, CC BY 4.0 [image source].

Detail view of the patterns at the back of a Hezhen robe [image source].

Read more:

#china #russia #tungusic #hezhe #nanai #fishskin #ethnic minorities #nivkh #chinese culture #history #russian culture #amur basin #heilongjiang #east siberia #ethnic clothing

[no-hhamani]

Title: Home

Ship: Knock Out x Autobot! Reader x Breakdown (POLY!)

(Cant believe there's a lack of Breakdown GIFs)

You are a scout, while scouting an area with your bestfriend Bumblebee in a complex system of the underground mines, you both are forcefully separated when the structure collapsed. As you walk around the only remaining pathway trying to find a way back to your bff, you came along two mechs you haven't expected to meet

Note: Pronoun of Reader is not specified and there will be OOC!

You groaned when you came up with a dead end. Again.

You and Bumblebee were assigned to scout an abandoned human mine, now filled with pestering drones and whatnot. You were entailed that the mine is about 100 years old, give or take

From the supporting beams itself, you know it's old as fuck. Not older than you but with how short a human life span could be, it is definitely way pass their average life span.

You let out a steam of pressurized air again and went back to where you came, crossing a 'X' on the path in a poorly digitally drawn map by your wrist. You really are somewhat thankful for the tracking chip that was drilled into you, who knew it could be this handy personally?

You again looked at the map, wobbly lines of your walking pattern printed itself in a red line by the screen, only a single pulsing dot indicates of yourself. With your signals and comms disrupted by the fallen debrees earlier, it would have been easy tracking your partner and other forms of sentient beings that could possibly surround you right at this moment or you could have just commed the team and sens a SOS signal but bad luck seems to follow you in dark damp places. Ugh

You turned off the screen and continued trecking on dark paths, it took for a silent while before you started humming and murmuring the song with the tongue of Old Cybertron. It's a song with the oldest language you have learned.

Your scouting program in your processor warned you of such action, which is logical but you're tired. The war is going on for too long and you just want to go back to the times of festivals and bantering with old friends.

Humming such a lively tune warmed up the constricting pressure in any mech or femm's spark. The tune where it reminds of home

You hummed and hummed. Slowly trecking the long tunnel before you stopped and heard familiar voices far ahead and chuckled.

You moved fast but silent, drawing in closer by the dim light and quickly jumping by the corner when you knew they were present

"GLITCHES!" You whooped, immediately dodging a large fist with a loud laugh

"[NAME]! WHAT IN THE DESIGNATION OF PRIMUS WAS THAT FOR?!" Knock Out huffed, holding back the larger mech by the arm to avoid him toppling over you

"Hey, I heard you guys and thought why not?" You chuckled, which earned you a falling mech on you and you squawked

"I should've let him hit you" Knock Out groaned, crossing his arms as he watches the other two grounders piled on the ground

"Miss you too guys" You huffed and hugged the mech on top of you who snorted and did a noogie on your head, that definitely would have scratched your paint off "Nah we miss you more" Breakdown sighed and contently laid down on top of you

"Up Big Boy, you dont want to pressurize [Name] into a flat sheet of metal" Knock Out smirked and watched Breakdown slowly stand up, both then holding a hand out for you as you stood up with their help

"I'd still look pretty as a flat sheet" you chuckled and rotated your door wings to get the debrees out in between cracks which earned you two different actions from them

The three of you then hugged eachother, nuzzling eachother's armor as each bonded sparks hummed a happy and content melody. A melody like home

"Scratch my paint or else."

You and Breakdown froze and took a big gulp

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

You, Breakdown and KnockOut have been conjunxes before the war, but have been separated during the Decepticon uprising.

You had joined the Autobots when the bombing and raid had started, thinking your conjunxes had also joined in but you haven't seen any of them

Only when the war had started to worsen when you caught a glimpse of them with a Decepticon symbol as they boarded a ship

Due to being in different factions, you had tried to secretly meet them in order to avoid suspiciouns from each side. Soon you and your conjunxes saw eachother with relief, they thought you were somewhere safe and hadn't joined any factions. They both had joined in the faction willingly, also thinking they could have found you earlier and kept you safe if they ever found you

From there on, you had kept secret of having conjunxes and them for having a third one. It avoided the affair of cross-faction relationships that could be used against any of you. So, you guys had secretly met up once in awhile

It hurted your spark to be so far away from them, and so were they. But, it kept you all safe.

During the war, with your small frame and a grounder alt mode. You had taken up a scouting role, soon meeting Bumblebee, a young spark, in one of your missions and you both became friends. Soon becoming partners in every mission you went out to

Bumblee actually followed you one time when you sneaked out and found out you're in a relationship with decepticons and he hadn't told anyone. Even you

When the war is finally over, everyone who you were close to were shocked when you kissed each of your conjunx infront of them, while Bumblee is just in the sidelines clapping, happy that his best friend is finally free to love

#non canon compliant #transformers prime #tfp #knock out #breakdown #tfp knock out #tfp breakdown #knockout x reader #breakdown x reader #tfp knockout x reader #tfp breakdown x reader #tfp knockout x reader x breakdown #polyamourous

[onyxedskies]

“show me where it hurts.” Felix comes to Annette for healing but he has no visible injuries? i think he deserves a good cry and to be held

i know it's been like a week since you sent in this request but trust i have been thinking non-stop about it

this is somewhere between the millenium festival reunion and the battle at gronder

word count: 648

It wasn't often that he went to her.

Most of the time, Annette would show up at his door at a late hour, sometimes with a frown and sometimes with tears staining her cheeks. He would open the door, and he would take her into his arms and hold her. Sometimes she would talk to him; others, she would simply cry into his arms until she fell asleep. Regardless, Felix prided himself with the fact that she chose him to turn to.

And yet he found himself hesitating as he went to knock on her door. What would he say, when he was always frowning but never cried? He didn't know how to ask for what he needed; it wasn't until she appeared that he had even begun to process his emotions, forget relearn how to let himself cry.

He took a deep breath. Raised his hand, rapped his knuckles gently against the door in the same pattern she always used. He didn't know what he was going to say, but he figured it was best to simply... go for it.

She opened the door, and something in his chest eased just by seeing her there. Her eyes were bright, suggesting that she had been up regardless; good. He didn't want to be the thing depriving her of sleep.

"Oh, Felix!" she said, and the pleased lilt in her tone eased his anxieties all the more. "Do you need something?"

"I, ah," he said, fumbling the words as he tried to come up with them, "I just need some healing."

It wasn't a lie, he supposed, though he still felt himself flush bright red at the excuse. There was no physical ailment that she could soothe, but being with her was all he needed; he could perhaps lie, say that an old wound was acting up, or perhaps he had strained a muscle. It was believable enough, given the conditions of this war.

Annette ushered him into her room, closing the door behind him and gesturing for him to sit in the seat. She didn't say anything, simply standing behind him and putting her hands on his shoulders, murmuring the incantation for Heal as she began to massage him there. Somehow, Felix got the feeling that she knew what he meant, even without him saying it.

She worked in silence for a while, focusing on gently working out the knots that Felix hadn't even realized were there. He relaxed into her touch, closing his eyes and letting himself bask in both her warmth and the complex emotions that he was feeling. Her presence was untangling them, somehow; gods, he loved her.

"You're always welcome here," she whispered eventually, voice soft, gentle. "You don't need an excuse."

Felix hummed in response. There was something clogging his throat, he felt; he didn't trust himself to speak. Annette was working lower, now, massaging his back. She began to hum quietly–the beginnings of a tune, he suspected–and Felix felt a tear slip down his cheek.

He couldn't remember the last time he had cried, but he knew the last time he had cried in front of someone was when he had wailed into his mother's arms at the news of Glenn. This was better than that.

Annette stopped massaging him, and he opened his eyes as he felt her hand gently brush away some of his tears. She smiled kindly at him, the depths of her adoration so evident in her eyes.

"I'm here for you, Felix," she said. It was just as soft, just as kind, but a little more solid than her words had been before. She reached around and hugged him, and he hugged her back, perhaps tighter than either of them had expected. Annette simply tightened her grip, pressed a kiss to the top of Felix's head, and let him weep into her shoulder.

Gods, he loved her.

#netteflix #felannie #felix fraldarius #felix hugo fraldarius #annette dominic #annette fantine dominic #asks #requests #roy! #onyxed drabbles #fire emblem three houses #fe3h

[thelatvianblog]

Latvian Folk Costumes

Latvian costumes are testimony to Latvian handicrafts and crafts – a full Latvian folk dress is a work of art because of the handiwork involved in creating it. The skills required to weave, embroider, sew, and create all the separate pieces that make up a folk costume are a unique and complex – requiring great patience and skill to create the intricate designs. The designs are varied, as the folk costumes, each from a different region of the country, are quite different.

The other feature worth highlighting are the ornaments or symbols woven, forged, sewn, and embroidered into the costumes. These are not merely aesthetic features, but many centuries ago they had a more personal significance – each symbol had a meaning, often to protect the wearer from evil spirits, death, illness. Wearing clothing was not only for warmth or practicality, protection from the elements or aesthetics but with a deeper, more powerful, mystical meaning. Symbols that can be found on the skirts, tunics, coats mittens, crowns, blouses, shawls all have an association with ancient Latvian gods worshipped by the Baltic tribes. Latvian gods such as Laima, Māra, Ūsiņš, Dievs, Jumis, Mēness and many other symbols were considered as guardians and therefore their power was invoked for protection and good fortune.

The regional variety in folk costumes is said to have come about because of the long centuries of feudalism where Baltic German nobility ruled the territory that is now Latvia. As part of this system, the Germans owned manorial estates all over countryside and the Latvians were the peasants who worked the land. They were bound to these estates and forbidden to move about and consequently, lived rather isolated from other nearby regions, leading to the development of unique patterns and styles in each costume.

It is also worth noting that the folk costumes worn today are from different historical periods. The single-toned, blue- and brown-hued costumes with bronze jewellery and leather footwear are archaeological costumes from the 7–13th centuries, the era when the ancient Baltic and Liv tribes inhabited Latvia. Remnants of these costumes have been discovered on archaeological digs in Latvia, pieced together, and recreated by craftsmen with an interest in learning these ancient crafts, as well as understanding the symbolism that decorated the clothing, weapons and other household goods. There is a whole movement in Latvia (and other parts of Europe), where the younger generation, inspired by patriotism, have taken a great interest in recreating the past and learning about their ancestors. Festivals, workshops and a rejuvenation of the beliefs and rituals of the ancients all form a part of this, and traditional costumes take pride of place and play a central role in this lifestyle.

Nowadays, Latvians have also taken to wearing a folk costume on special occasions such as on their wedding day, the christening of their children, during the Song and Dance Festival (even as spectators), and during Jāņi festivities in midsummer.

Traditional headpiece

The more often-seen folk costumes worn by Latvians are the patterned, colourful ethnographic costumes – originating from the Middle Ages up to the 18th and 19th centuries. These were the clothes worn by peasants, or farmers, that evolved over many centuries, and took on a more elegant form when gentrification occurred and the wealthier peasants who had become landowners moved to larger towns. The elegance culminated in the mid-19th century, around the time of the First Song Celebration. More elaborate folk costumes included shawls, headscarves made of silk, intricate, sometimes large brooches, elegant overcoats, vests and top-hats for the men all were examples of this.

Nowadays there are also stylised folk costumes which are variations on the archaeological folk costume theme and are used by folk groups in stage performances that depict and re-enact – in a symbolic sense – the time of the ancient Baltic tribes. Here, linen shirts and dresses, trousers in white, grey and brown colours form the stylised costumes of the ancients. This was visible in the initial scenes at the Dance Celebration in 2018 at Daugava Stadium as well as dance group performances with modern choreography, depicting a mythical long-lost ancient past.

#latvia #folk costumes #culture

[lunarscaled]

⋇ TEMPEST IN A TEACUP SHINE LIKE SHARK TEETH: ONE PIECE

The young guardian of the isolated Clanging Isles Archipelago in the Calm Belt of the West Blue, they bare a levelheaded and quiet personality before the public that relies on them. The current user of the Uo Uo no Mi, Model: White Dragon, they are charged with both keeping the dangerous Sea Kings at bay and communicating with the massive true white dragon who homes itself inside the dormant dome volcano there. They sometimes must also intercept interlopers who survive the Calm Belt, but it is uncommon.

Name: Lyric Gravellese

Devil Fruit: Uo Uo no Mi Model "Shiroi Ryuu", Mythical Zoan-type

Titles: The White Dragon Vessel, Hatchling, Dragon Child

Abilities: Ice Manipulation, Dragon shape (full and hybrid forms), Superhuman ability ( strength, speed, durability, etc. ), Dragon speak

Location: Clanging Isles, Calm Belt, West Sea

expanded bio + history

The Clanging Isles Archipelago and its people have existed as far back as the beginning of the Age of the Sea Circle, but the islands themselves likely were developing volcanic hotbeds long before that. It's unknown who were the first foolish settlers in somewhere as desolate as the Calm Belt, but some 600 centuries later, when the volcanic activity had begun to settle and life began to rise from one final ashen-covered landscape, everyone can remember the arrival of The Great White Dragon. The dragon bled vast quantities of rich, red blood from open wounds on its body; it is said where its blood spilled on the rock and soot is where the first icicle trees began to grow, and the volcano is where the dragon began to make its home. But the islands had long been ravaged by merciless Sea Kings and their offspring, unable to do anything but shelter themselves and pray, and when the beasts came once again to slam their tails against the sandbars and shake the seabed the people simply hid and prayed. Disturbed from its injured rest, the giant dragon rose and climbed from the volcano. Standing on the edge, it leapt from the top of the volcano and took flight before diving claws-first into the sea kings; the water, filled with blood, turned purple and red amidst the thrashing and screeching. After some time, the dragon rose from the water, the throat of the sea king in its jaws, its beating wings stirring ocean currents. It's sharp teeth tore through the tender flesh and left a gaping hole where the gills should be, and the sea serpent's body collapsed into the water to decay. Since then, few sea kings have dared to enter the archipelago. Those who have tried have quickly been dispatched by the White Dragon, refusing to tolerate intrusion on its newly established territory. And the people, worried they had traded one terror for another, brought it tribute and worship. Dressed themselves in patterns of its likeness and asked it for strength. Told stories of its arrival for generations and hoped it would continue to protect and spare them.

Lyric is the 27th "White Dragon Vessel" of the Clanging Isles, a title and strength granted to them by the Devil Fruit which grows only in the grove of the Great White Dragon's volcano at the end of the archipelago, which can only be acquired by a single individual in a festival rite after the last vessel has passed.

The people of the isles believe the fruit to be a test of will and worth from the dragon itself; only those brave enough to stand on the same ground as the dragon itself and enter its lair can search for it. Many may go---few will return, swallowed by the very dragon they worship and seek from, but among those who do return will be the one fated to be the island's protector. Or so the legend is told.

In truth, Lyric is no destined protector. So cut-off from the outside world, the isles must live simple lives. They are easy victims of weather, famine, medical ailments that need more complex medicine to cure. While they make the most of their surroundings, illness can spread quickly and take many victims. Lyric's mother and brother were two such ones, suddenly so gravely ill in what seemed like a week's time.

Thinking the fruit may grant them some unknown knowledge or strength that could save their family, Lyric fearlessly ( no, not fearlessly. terrified, trembling---desperately ) boarded the boat which sailed to the largest island, alongside a dozen of Clanging Isle's greatest warriors.

Perhaps it was their small size in the dark. Perhaps it was because they hid every chance they could with hands over their mouth. Perhaps it was strictly luck, toying with them. But Lyric, young as they were, was the first to find the fruit: a single one in a grove all the same glistening blue-green, sea glass shade. Their hands trembled when they ate it, when the dragon noticed them thieving from its orchard, when it opened its wide maw and snarled and roared at them.

They made it home, but the celebration fell on poor days. Lyric's mother and brother did not recover; their father, convinced their status was worthless because it could not save his wife and child, disowned them. Even other people of the isles held mixed feelings towards their new status for many reasons: age, luck, personal greed, superstition. When Lyric was sent back to the island of the dragon garbed in the robes of the vessel, with boats of offerings: pillaged gold, the purest undyed fabrics woven by hand which gleamed like crystal, some hoped they would be rejected.

They, too, hoped they would be rejected.

They were not.

Lyric has spent the last decade honing their skills under the cruel, merciless tutelage of the dragon said to be the source of their power. They have faced near-death countless times from training alone, told to become stronger or die, and each day they live with the pressures of their position and people's expectations. Recently, Lyric has begun taking to their dragon shape to fly beyond the borders of the archipelago in search of other islands and people to trade with for the benefit of their people. However, because they cannot swim and not every island is inhabited, they have had little luck without a proper vessel to act as an intermediary.

NOTES:

Lyric's dragon shape is actually a blue and white wyvern, possessing only 2 legs and wings with opposable claws attached. The Great Dragon is a long-bodied, western-style dragon with 4 limbs, but all of the Devil Fruit users have been slight variations of the image and never an exact copy.

The island the Great White Dragon resides on is completely covered in snow and ice as a result of his presence, and the surrounding waters have grown cold. As a result, new breeds of fish and crops have begun to develop in the last few centuries, but it was a barren area for a time.

The orchard inside the volcano is for a unique fruit called Icicle Fruits, which can be used to create a rare, rich dye for fabrics and special jams. In the past, it seems other Dragon Vessels used to sell these goods to other nations, but that changed when the World Government took over.

Apparently Clanging Isles has traded with Zou once or twice in the past few centuries, but due to the roaming nature of Zunesha it's impossible to establish regular contact or trade relations.

Lyric has only recently achieved a dragon form large enough to leave the island and carry goods, as they're smaller than average---slightly less than the size of a frigate's hull.

Despite their size, their power should not be underestimated, as they regularly hunt Sea Kings for food and resources for the island.

Lyric can understand the intentions and will of the Great Dragon as part of their devil fruit powers, but it does not extend to any other creatures. This is related to their purpose as an intermediary between the dragon and the people.

for reference (mostly mine), the Japanese spelling for Lyric's Devil Fruit is: Uo Uo no Mi Moderu "Shiroi Ryuu" / ウオウオの実 モデル "白い龍"

Lyric wears jade earrings but I forgot to add them. They match the jade gems on their anklet.

#* ooc. #* visage. #one piece rp #op rp #⋇ TEMPEST IN A TEACUP SHINE LIKE SHARK TEETH: ONE PIECE

[fourseasonsfigs]

Early Mid-Autumn Festival: Sweet Tangyuan Little Daoist

This latest shipment of figs all seems to be JZEUniverse, which is just fine by me - I have a special place in my heart for these figs!

This sparkly-eyed, heart-eyed little Daoist priest is of course Gong Jun's Dong Fang Yuechu from Fox Spirit Matchmaker: Yue Hong.

The inspiration for this fig, as in many others of the figs we have of Yuechu so far, comes from behind the scenes shots during filming.

It's a little hard to see, but if you zoom in you can see the bowl of tangyuan in front of him.

Yes, the watermark says, Junzhe is Always in Love.

Since these pics are pretty far away, here's a closeup so you can see the top pattern of his robes and also his guan.

This fig was limited to 850 and sold out in less than a minute. And that was slow compared to the other Yuechu fig sold at the same time (Early Mid-Autumn Festival: Moon Rabbit Lantern Daoist, stay tuned for that one!), which sold out in seconds. Those were some wild times!

Our hungry little Daoist arrived toting his own bench with him. Like many fig benches and chairs, this one arrived pre-worn in and ready for fig tush to go in fig seat.

I tried propping him up in the chair, but he slid right out. I tried some putty, which wasn't sticky enough, and then some museum wax, which worked perfectly.

Here he is, happily eating away! I love his big happy mouth and smiling heart eyes.

This is a great angle to see the pattern on his robes. You'll also notice that his asymmetric guan has the long tall spire on it on one side only. The hair sticking up on the other side is just that, hair sticking up - the character Yuechu is identifiable by his two individual hairs that stand up on his head.

I think it's cute that his feet don't touch the ground - mine sure don't when I sit on benches!

Sometimes I spin them one way, sometimes the other way. I just realized I'm not very consistent! I guess it doesn't matter as long as you get the full views all the way around, right?

He's all hair and a little bench from this back angle! You can see how one side of his guan is his guan, and one side is his two standing hairs.

Another hair-forward pic here. This looks a lot like A-Xu's hairstyle, doesn't it?

Those are some cute little boots!

Alright, coming back around. You can see his little bowl of tangyuan here too.

And we're back! This an even better view of his bowl and treat. You can also see the drape of his shawl collar on his inner robe here, and this is a nice view of his guan. Although not as nice as this view...

There you go! This is a very difficult guan to render in fig form - a complex asymmetrical free-form metal design is complicated! Kudos to the fig maker for taking a very solid go at it. I can't wait to see his costume and the guan in the show. The light violet oval in the hair crown looks like a beautiful sparkling jewel in the actual still.

You already got the bottoms-up shot earlier in this post, so let's move to the box card:

And happily, this set came with a box sleeve design as well! No plain white boxes here!

In the epic tradition of fig box spoilers, here you go! All of these figs are making their way across the ocean to me now, so you'll see allll these Yuechus at some point! Look forward to it please - I am!

Material: Resin

Fig Count: 265

Scene Count: 19

Rating: Sweet as sugar!

#jzeu #gong jun #junzhe #woh cast #word of honor cast #shl cast #dong fang yuechu #fox spirit matchmaker #fox spirit matchmaker merch #figthusiast

[dustedmagazine]

Alexander Von Schlippenbach — Globe Unity (Corbett Vs. Dempsey)

The Globe Unity Orchestra notched more than a few accolades. It was the first European free jazz big band, and in retrospect, the first improv supergroup. During a history that spanned over 20 years of fairly steady work and a more recent pattern of convening every ten years, it has carried a standard for concerted international effort to improve the world through the transmission of sonic energy. They didn’t call it Globe Unity for nothing; its ranks were a model of multi-national cooperation, and it traveled far from its birthplace in Germany, thrilling and outraging audiences in locales as distant as Chicago and New Delhi.

Composer, pianist and lead Alexander von Shlippenbach didn’t necessarily have all of that in mind when he put the first GUO together. He didn’t even call it that; “Globe Unity” was just the name of the first piece it played. In the mid-1960s, he was part of a circle of musicians who had already been contributing for some time to the loosening and intensifying of jazz’s strictures in Europe. But he was not one who chose to forsake all he had learned in the process. Born in 1938, his post-war education included tutelage in classical composition, as well as a personal affinity for modern jazz. The two side-long pieces on this LP represented attempts to incorporate the sounds of free music into extent jazz and classical orchestral forms. 

When this music was first performed at the 1966 Berlin Jazz Festival, Schlippenbach combined the top German free jazz combos — the Gunter Hampel Quartet, Manfred Schoof Quintet, and Peter Brötzmann Trio. The next month, he recorded “Globe Unity” and “Sun” in Cologne. The personnel list is a heavy who’s who, and some folks might zero in on the names of the two drummers, Jaki (then spelled Jackie) Liebezeit and Mani Neumeier. In times to come, each would shape the rhythmic content of freak-forward German rock music, in Can and Guru Guru respectively. But that’s not what they played here. In concert with Schlippenbach, who played tubular bells, gongs, and both the interior and keys of his piano, and vibraphonist Karl Berger, they provided a multi-hued manifestation of otherness and density. The two bassists added as much seething presence as pulse. Sometimes dramatic, other times exotic (which was not viewed then with the skepticism that it sometimes is now), and only very occasionally swinging, the rhythm section transcended its duties within the big band idiom to contribute immensely to the music’s orchestral qualities. 

The horns, however, are what made this music massive. You don’t need the back cover action shot of players in the studio, confronted by overflowing music stands, to know that their united projection was charted out. The time when the orchestra would take on instant composition at an ensemble-wide scale was still a ways off. But by incorporating the broader tonal and timbral resources of the contemporary avant-garde into organized blocks of sound, they achieved a complex and looming sound which was matched at the time only by Sun Ra’s Arkestra. When individual voices cut through, either as breakaway soloists or connecting joints in the multi-segmented compositions, they functioned both as foci for the energy and agents of structural cohesion. 56 years on, it’s still thrilling. 

Globe Unity has gone in and out of the print since its first release by SABA in 1967, and this its return to the physical realm is welcome. This edition, licensed by the historically astute Corbett Vs. Dempsey imprint, is confined to limited CD and LP editions that recreate the original LP’s gatefold sleeve. It’s gorgeous, but one has to point out that anyone who is likely to buy a CD is also unlikely to be able to read Schlippenbach’s much-reduced liner notes unless they supplement their normal corrective eyewear with a magnifying glass. Old eyes would benefit from either a fold-out insert or an online resource. But music like this is for hearing more than reading, and this reissue sounds gloriously present and alive.

Bill Meyer

#Alexander Von Schlippenbach #globe unity #corbett vs. dempsey #bill meyer #albumreview #dusted magazine #free jazz #big band

[daisylore83]

Infinite Love: Romantic Bridal Lehengas Symbolizing Everlasting Happiness

Bridal lehengas have a special position in Indian weddings, representing tradition, elegance, and the start of a new journey full of endless love. Weddings in Indian culture are more than just ceremonies; they are great festivities with traditions, colors, and extravagant apparel. Among these, the bridal lehenga stands out as a timeless masterpiece that combines the riches of tradition with modern appeal.

The significance of bridal attire in Indian weddings

Indian weddings are famed for their intricate ceremonies and lively celebrations, with every detail, from decor to dress, meticulously arranged. Bridal lehenga is extremely important since it reflects the bride's personality, style, and cultural background. It is more than just a clothing; it represents family traditions and auspicious beginnings.

Infinite Love: Exploring the Concept

Every wedding revolves around the profound theme of eternal love that transcends time and space. Bridal lehengas, embellished with elaborate decorations and delicate craftsmanship, embody the concept of eternal pleasure and unity. They signify the eternal link formed by two people going on a lifelong journey of love and companionship.

Understanding Eternal Love

Eternal love extends beyond the realms of romance to include mutual respect, trust, and steadfast support. It is a bond that survives the test of time, becoming stronger with every passing minute. Bridal lehengas, with their incomparable beauty and everlasting appeal, encapsulate the essence of this enduring love, transforming them into cherished heirlooms that are passed down through generations.

Symbolism in bridal attire

Every part of a bridal lehenga is richly symbolic, expressing numerous facets of Indian culture and mythology. Every element, from the color palette to the complex embroidered patterns, offers a distinct statement. Red, which represents auspiciousness and fertility, is the favored color for bridal clothing, while gold embellishments symbolize success and abundance.

Also visit:

Romantic Bridal Lehengas: A Fusion of Tradition and Modernity

In recent years, there has been a trend in bridal dress to combine traditional aesthetics with modern sensibilities. Romantic bridal lehengas embody this combination, providing brides with the ideal balance of traditional grace and modern refinement.

Traditional Elements in Lehengas

Traditional bridal lehengas are made of costly materials such as silk, velvet, and brocade, and embellished with elaborate zari, gota patti, and thread work. These lehengas frequently incorporate traditional themes inspired by nature, mythology, and cultural heritage, lending a sense of authenticity and charm.

Modern Touches in Bridal Fashion

While respecting tradition, modern bridal lehengas combine creative design elements and silhouettes to accommodate to the changing tastes of modern brides. From elegant crop tops with voluminous skirts to trendy cape-style dupattas, these looks radiate confidence and glamor, revolutionizing bridal couture for the modern era.

Rajwadi: Your Destination for Romantic Bridal Lehengas

Among a myriad of options, Rajwadi stands out as a beacon of quality, delivering a carefully curated assortment of romantic bridal lehengas that reflect the essence of eternal love and timeless beauty. Rajwadi has established itself as a trusted name in the world of bridal fashion thanks to its tradition of workmanship and commitment to quality.

Introduction to Rajwadi

Rajwadi is more than just a brand; it is a celebration of tradition and workmanship passed down through generations. Rajwadi caters to the sophisticated tastes of modern brides seeking timeless sophistication by offering a varied choice of bridal dresses that combine classic beauty with contemporary attractiveness.

Collection of Romantic Bridal Lehengas

From classic reds to pastel hues, Rajwadi has a wide range of colors and styles to suit any bride's vision. Each lehenga is precisely created from the finest fabrics and embellished with stunning stitching, ensuring that every bride feels like royalty on her wedding day.

Features of Romantic Bridal Lehengas in Rajwadi

Rajwadi is proud of its attention to detail and devotion to perfection, guaranteeing that each bridal lehenga exceeds expectations in terms of quality, craftsmanship, and design.

Quality fabric and craftsmanship

At Rajwadi, quality is everything. Each bridal lehenga is made with high-quality materials obtained from reputable vendors and delicately created by expert artists who specialize in traditional embroidery techniques. From elaborate zardosi embroidery to delicate sequin embellishments, each stitch showcases Rajwadi's artisans' passion and expertise.

Unique Designs and Patterns

Rajwadi provides a wide choice of designs, from timeless classics to modern creations, guaranteeing that every bride finds her ideal match. Whether it's a classic Banarasi lehenga or a modern fusion ensemble, each design is meticulously made, resulting in a work of art that reflects the bride's unique style and personality.

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Customisation Options for Bridal Lehengas

Rajwadi allows ladies to personalize their bridal lehengas, ensuring that every element reflects their individual style and preferences.

Personalized Tailoring Services

Rajwadi's professional tailors collaborate closely with brides to bring their vision to life, including individual fittings and modifications to ensure a flawless fit. From neckline changes to sleeve lengths, the lehenga can be adjusted to the bride's body type and design choices.

Embellishment Choices

Brides can personalize their bridal dress with a range of embellishment options, such as hand embroidery, beaded, and sequin details. Whether it's a subtle touch of sparkle or a dramatic statement piece, Rajwadi's artisans thrive in bringing the bride's vision to life, crafting a masterpiece that embodies her own personality and style.

Tips for Selecting the Best Romantic Bridal Lehenga

Choosing the ideal bridal lehenga is an important part of wedding planning, and Rajwadi provides some helpful advice to ensure that every bride finds her dream ensemble.

Consider Body Shape and Comfort

It is critical to select a bridal lehenga that flatters your body shape and allows for freedom of movement. A well-fitted silhouette will not only flatter your form but also keep you comfortable throughout the wedding festivities.

Match with the wedding theme

When choosing a bridal lehenga, consider your wedding's overall theme and color palette. Whether your wedding is traditional or modern, choose a lehenga that complements the aesthetic of your venue and decor.

Consult with Fashion experts

Seek counsel from professional fashion advisors who can help you navigate the selection process and find a bridal lehenga that matches your style and personality.

Also visit:

https://x.com/DesignerSareeka/status/1772844733804728642?s=20

Accessorize Your Bridal Lehenga

Accessorizing is essential for completing your bridal appearance and adding the final touches to your dress.

Jewelry Selection

Select jewelry that matches the ornamentation and neckline of your bridal lehenga. From striking necklaces to exquisite earrings, choose pieces that complement your overall style without overpowering it.

Footwear Options

Choose comfortable yet beautiful footwear that matches your bridal lehenga and allows you to dance the night away without feeling uncomfortable. Whether you prefer classic juttis or adorned heels, select footwear that represents your unique style and enhances your bridal suit.

Bridal Lehenga Care Tips

After the wedding festivities are finished, it's critical to take excellent care of your bridal lehenga to maintain its beauty and lifespan.

Dry Clean Only: Have your bridal lehenga professionally dry cleaned to remove any stains or grime that may have developed during the wedding celebrations. Store with care: To avoid fading or discoloration, store your bridal lehenga in a cool, dry area away from direct sunlight. Handle with Caution: Be gentle when handling your bridal lehenga to avoid damage delicate decorations or fabric.

Conclusion

Romantic bridal lehengas are timeless symbols of eternal love and bliss, capturing the essence of Indian weddings. With their beautiful craftsmanship, intricate designs, and personalized touches, these lehengas capture brides' imaginations and emotions, making them feel like royalty on their wedding day. Rajwadi is at the forefront of bridal design, with a carefully picked range of beautiful bridal lehengas that exemplify beauty, refinement, and eternal love.

Also visit:

FAQs

What distinguishes Rajwadi from other bridal attire stores?

Rajwadi stands out for its dedication to quality, workmanship, and personalised service. With a varied choice of patterns and personalization possibilities, Rajwadi caters to each bride's specific preferences, ensuring a memorable and joyful shopping experience.

How long does it take to get a personalized bridal lehenga from Rajwadi?

The time it takes to customize a bridal lehenga is determined by a variety of factors, including the design's complexity and material availability. However, Rajwadi aims to provide personalized bridal outfits on time, guaranteeing that every bride receives her dream lehenga long before the wedding date.

Can I return or exchange a bridal lehenga that does not fit perfectly? Rajwadi acknowledges the importance of a proper fit and provides easy return and exchange policies for bridal lehengas. If the lehenga does not fit as planned, brides can return or exchange it within a set term, as long as it is in its original condition with tags attached. Does Rajwadi offer international delivery on bridal lehengas? Yes, Rajwadi provides international shipping for bridal lehengas, allowing brides from all over the world to enjoy the timeless elegance and workmanship of Indian bridal clothing. International shipping charges and delivery periods may differ according to the destination country.

#rajwadi #lehenga #bridal #bridallehenga

[thedemostop]

Trap Music: Decoding the Intensity of Trap Music Beats

Few genres have had such a significant effect on modern music as trap music. This guide expands on the fundamentals of trap music by defining trap characteristics, explaining the complexities of creating your own trap masterpiece, exploring the top trap hits that have dominated music charts, and highlighting the masterminds behind them - trap artists who have etched their names into the genre's history. Join us as we trace the growth of trap music, from its humble beginnings to the vast stages of the most prestigious festivals, which reverberate with throbbing beats.

Trap Music Meaning

Trap music meaning is a genre that began in the late 1990s in the Southern United States, specifically Atlanta. Trap rhythms are aggressive with powerful bass and sometimes include quick hi-hats and synths. OutKast and Underground Kingz (UGK) were among the pioneers of trap music. Trap music consists of more than simply rhythms and lyrics. A "trap" refers to famed drug-dealing locations, and trap songs frequently address themes of street life, hustling, and overcoming obstacles. Trap house music has grown to become a popular subgenre of hip-hop, influencing a diverse spectrum of artists and genres in the music business.

Types of trap music

Atlanta trap

Developed in Atlanta, Georgia, in the 1990s.

Characteristics: Heavy bass and forceful rhythms.

Gritty lyrics reflect urban existence.

Features distinct hi-hats and 808 drum rhythms.

Pioneering musicians include OutKast, T.I., and Gucci Mane.

Tropical trap

Tropical trap music, with Calypso beats and synth pop components, originated in the Caribbean and acquired global prominence.

 Characteristics include danceable beats with a sunny mood.

A mix of trap, reggae, dancehall, and tropical house.

 Tropical trap music has a global appeal that goes beyond typical hip-hop listeners.

SoundCloud trap

The subgenre originated on the SoundCloud platform in the late 2000s and early 2010.

 Characteristics include DIY ethos and experimental creation. Unusual sound and sampling.

Features unusual production techniques and a lo-fi style.

SoundCloud has become a valuable platform for indie artists to display their work.

Trap soul

Popularized in the 2010s, this subgenre combines trap and modern R&B components.

Characteristics: o Soulful vocals with trap-influenced production.

Themes explored include love, relationships, and personal challenges.

The words are introspective and emotionally resonant.

Bryson Tiller, a key artist, contributed significantly to the growth of trap soul.

Influence of trap music on pop culture

Trap music has had a lasting impression on mainstream culture, transcending its roots in the Southern United States to become a global phenomenon. Trap music has had a significant impact on many aspects of current society. The trap's powerful basslines, prominent hi-hats, and forceful beats have influenced hip-hop, pop, and electronic music. The genre's ascent in popularity on music charts, as well as collaborations between trap musicians and pop legends, have blurred genre lines, resulting in music that appeals to a worldwide audience. Trap culture has expanded to fashion, with trap music musicians frequently becoming style inspirations. Trap's image, which combines streetwear and high fashion, is becoming increasingly popular.

How to write a trap song?

The following is a step-by-step guide to compose a trap song:

Lay down your tempo: To achieve the unique trap vibe, choose a moderate to slow speed, usually between 70 and 110 BPM.

Set your beat: Create a crisp, punchy drumming centered on the kick, snare, and hi-hats. Experiment with patterns until you discover a rhythm that matches your style.

Create and then repeat your melody: Create a catchy and memorable song with synths or other instruments. Repetition is essential in trap music, so consider constructing a repeated verse to anchor your song.

Add drums: Improve your rhythm by combining 808 drum patterns. The bassline should be deep and resonant, giving a sturdy basis for the track.

Adjust your snare: Fine-tune the snare to get the desired result. Trap music frequently includes quick and complicated snare rolls, so experiment with different patterns to create intensity and dynamics.

Use distortion: Use distortion on specific parts, particularly 808 basses, to produce a gritty and abrasive sound. This imparts a raw and strong feel to the entire sound.

Conclusion

In conclusion, trap music has become a significant and influential part of contemporary music culture, with its distinct sound and themes resonating with audiences worldwide. Its impact can be felt not only within hip hop but also across a range of musical genres and cultural contexts.

#trap music #trap music meaning #types of trap music #what is trap music

[chattingwiththelightkeeper]

From Pi to Pleasure

Today marks a special occasion: Pi Day and as we indulge in the numerical delight of π, let's take a unique journey that intertwines the celebration of mathematics with the profound principles and life lessons found within the realm of BDSM. Let's share a piece of pic and discuss the significance of Pi Day and how it offers an opportunity to reflect on the beauty of numbers while drawing parallels to the intricacies of BDSM dynamics.

On this Pi Day, let's savor the delicious essence of π by enjoying an assortment of pies, from classic apple to decadent chocolate or perhaps indulge in oral delights with the most intimate

of pies. As we revel in the culinary and/or physical delights, let's also appreciate the mathematical marvel represented by π, the ratio of a circle's circumference to its diameter. Pi Day is a celebration of the elegance and universality of mathematics, reminding us of the infinite possibilities and patterns that permeate our world.

Beyond the numerical festivities, Pi Day invites us to explore the connections between mathematics and BDSM, uncovering valuable insights and life lessons along the way.

Just as π remains a constant value, consent, consistency, and structure are essential in BDSM dynamics. Establishing clear consent, boundaries, protocols, and routines fosters a sense of safety and trust within the relationship. Like the precision of mathematical formulas, maintaining consistency in BDSM interactions ensures a harmonious and fulfilling experience for all involved.

Pi Day encourages us to explore the mysteries of mathematics, and similarly, BDSM encourages exploration and self-discovery. Through open communication and experimentation, individuals can uncover their desires, boundaries, and fantasies. Embracing the spirit of curiosity and adventure leads to profound personal growth and a deeper understanding of oneself and others.

Trust is fundamental in both mathematics and BDSM relationships. Just as mathematicians rely on the integrity of proofs, BDSM partners rely on trust to navigate intimate experiences. Vulnerability, too, plays a crucial role, as individuals open themselves to new experiences and emotions. Building trust and embracing vulnerability fosters intimacy, connection, and growth within the BDSM dynamic.

As we celebrate Pi Day, let's embrace the synergy between mathematics and BDSM, recognizing the beauty and wisdom inherent in both. Whether indulging in the sweetness of π or exploring the complexities of dominance and submission, let's honor the lessons learned and the connections forged. Pi Day serves as a reminder of the infinite possibilities that exist within mathematical equations and human relationships alike, inviting us to celebrate, learn, and grow together.

If you enjoyed this, I invite you to give my podcast a listen 'Chatting With The Lightkeeper,' a top 25% most-followed podcasts on Spotify but available on all the major podcasting apps and follow my socials for more exclusive content: Instagram, Facebook, Bluesky, and X (formerly Twitter) for a deeper dive into the wonderful world of D/S.

As with all of my thoughts, please see this disclaimer.

©TLK2024

#bd/sm blog #bd/sm community #bd/sm daddy #bd/sm kink #bd/sm lifestyle #bd/sm relationship #d/s #d/s community #d/s relationship #dom/sub #my writing

[aarathi]

Known about Aari Embroidery

Aari embroidery was started in the Mughal era.

It is a kind of embroidery performed by pulling the fabric strongly over a wooden mound.

A pen-like needle indicates a crochet needle which is practiced to do the fundamental Aari work.The needle technique springs from the mocha village.

They practice this kind of needlework to sew complex designs on leather footwear.

The name is established from the hollow needle known as Aari.

This work incorporates embellishments such as beads, stones, golden as well as silver threads providing a supreme abundance to the pattern.

Aari embroidery is recognised for its fine thread work that improves the gravitation of fabrication done by hands.

It has recorded its presence from the twelfth-century that is from the Mughal era.

The work has expanded to Lucknow, Uttar Pradesh, Rajasthan, Gujarat and more.

These places supplemented conventional patterns and noticed the masterpiece of the embroidery.

Starting from the ruling kings and the queens and their families.

Presently, the art can be viewed on a cap on top of an adolescent, carrying common effects belonging to different states.

For example, the bride’s saree and chaniya cholis as well as festive attire.

This art has made its presence in South India.

Proficient craftsmen practice the Aari embroidery to improve the popular sarees of the silk fabric in the south.

Srikalahasti in Andhra Pradesh is a religious village.

It likewise establishes the abundance of Aari embroidery.

Many women discovered classical embroidery which provided them with an opportunity to make a living.

Aari embroidery and sewing garments are artistically connected.

The tiny institute of craftsmen is approved by the government and received relief for selling their items.

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The 10 best embroidery machine designs for every occasion

Embroidery Machine Designs: A Comprehensive Guide to Personalizing Your Projects

Embroidery, the art of decorating fabric with needle and thread, has captivated individuals for centuries. With the advent of embroidery machines, this time-honored craft has become more accessible and versatile than ever before. Embroidery machines allow you to create intricate designs with ease, from simple monograms to complex patterns, transforming everyday items into personalized masterpieces. Whether you're a seasoned embroiderer or just starting out, this blog post will guide you through the world of embroidery machine designs, empowering you to create personalized projects for every occasion. We'll explore the top 10 embroidery machine designs that are perfect for a variety of purposes, from gifting to decorating your home. 1. Monograms: A Timeless Classic Monograms, the elegant combination of initials, have long been a symbol of personalization and sophistication. Embroidering monograms onto various items, such as towels, bags, clothing, and accessories, adds a touch of class and individuality. 2. Name and Date Designs: Capturing Precious Moments Embroidering names and dates onto keepsakes, such as baby blankets, christening gowns, or graduation caps, creates cherished mementos that hold special significance. These personalized designs commemorate milestones and create lasting memories. 3. Seasonal Patterns: Celebrating Every Season Embroidery machines open up the door to creating festive designs that reflect the changing seasons. For Christmas, incorporate wintery motifs like snowflakes, reindeer, and wreaths. In the spring, adorn your creations with blooming flowers and cheerful butterflies. Summer calls for vibrant patterns of sun, seashells, and palm trees. And fall brings cozy designs with pumpkins, leaves, and a touch of autumnal warmth. 4. Patriotic Designs: Celebrating National Pride Show your patriotism with embroidery machine designs that showcase national symbols and colors. Embellish flags, hats, and accessories with stars and stripes for the Fourth of July, or celebrate Canada Day with maple leaves and red and white accents. 5. Quotes and Sayings: Inspiring and Thoughtful Messages Embroidery machine designs allow you to infuse your creations with motivational quotes, inspiring words, or meaningful messages. These personalized designs can serve as daily reminders to stay positive, embrace challenges, or cherish loved ones. 6. Animal Designs: Capturing the Spirit of Wildlife Embroider adorable animal designs onto children's clothing, backpacks, or play mats to bring a touch of whimsy and enchantment. From playful puppies and cuddly kittens to majestic lions and graceful giraffes, animal motifs add a touch of fun and personality to any project. 7. Floral Designs: Celebrating Nature's Beauty Floral embroidery designs are a timeless way to add elegance and sophistication to your creations. From delicate bouquets of roses and lilies to vibrant arrangements of sunflowers and poppies, floral motifs bring a touch of nature's beauty to any surface. 8. Religious Designs: Expressing Faith and Spirituality Embroider religious symbols and quotes onto prayer shawls, baptismal gowns, or other meaningful items to express your faith and spirituality. These personalized designs can serve as a reminder of your beliefs and connect you to your spiritual practices. 9. Personalized Gifts: Thoughtful Gestures for Every Occasion Embroidery machine designs make the perfect finishing touch for personalized gifts. Add a monogram to a friend's scarf, embroider a heartfelt message on a birthday card, or personalize a piece of clothing as a unique and thoughtful gesture. 10. Home Décor Ideas: Embellish Your Living Space Embroidered designs can transform your home décor, adding a touch of personality and warmth to every room. Decorate pillows, curtains, tablecloths, and throws with intricate patterns, or personalize towels, napkins, and table mats for a stylish and welcoming ambiance. Conclusion The world of embroidery machine designs is vast and ever-expanding, offering endless possibilities for creativity and personalization. With a little imagination and a steady hand, you can transform everyday items into personalized masterpieces that will bring joy and add a touch of elegance to your life and the lives of others. Read the full article

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Top 10 Most Promising Gold Maang Tikka Designs

In the Present of traditional Indian jewelry, the maang tikka is erected as a symbol of amenity and cultural heritage. Among the uncountable choices, the temptation of "gold maang tikka designs" holds a timeless charm, adding a touch of regality to any vestige. Let's immerse ourselves into the world of these decorative artificial adornments and the wide range the nuances of gold maang tikka design.

1. The Elegance of Tradition:-

The Gold maang tikka designs are deeply attached to Indian tradition, with their sourcing dating back centuries. Traditionally worn by Indian brides, these forehead beautiful ornaments have Indian cultural boundaries to become a statement accessory for various celebrations and Indian events.

2. Various Designs for Every Taste:-

One of the enchanting aspects of gold maang tikka designs is the sheer diversity in their patterns. From classic and beautiful South Indian designs to delicate and living styles, there is a gold maang tikka to complement every taste and occasion. Jewelsmart provides ultimate gold maang tikka in various designs.

3. A Bride's Opulent Choice:-

Selecting the ideal gold maang tikka is a prominent milestone for Indian brides. The design seamlessly enhances the bridal ensemble, graceful with arduous details, and symbolic Shape, and occasionally enriched with precious artificial gemstones. These best pieces evolve into treasured heritage, continuing their legacy through generations.

4. Jewelsmart Versatility Redefined:-

While Jewelsmart gold maang tikka designs are synonymous with traditional culture, modern fashion has embraced their suddenness. Jewelsmart's “Gold Maang Tikka Design” effortlessly raises both ethnic and fusion vestige, adding a touch of lavishness to everything from sarees and lehengas to all current dresses.

5. Design Elements that Glare:-

Gold maang tikka designs often boast solid craftsmanship, featuring filigree work, meenakari detailing, and carefully set gemstones. The central pendant, known as the 'maang teeka,' is crafted to draw attention to the bride's shining beauty.

6. Gold Maang Tikka Design Styling Tips:-

Whether you're a bride-to-be or someone looking to make a fashion statement, styling a gold maang tikka is an art. For a classic look, pair it with a center-f forehead pandal. People can use it with side-swept hair or loose curls for a more classic vibe.

7. Beyond Bridal Wear:-

Gold maang tikka designs are not reserved only for weddings. adopt these luxurious ornaments for any festivals, and cultural events, or even to add a royal touch to your everyday style. A small maang tikka can be a subtle yet weighty addition to your wardrobe.

Beautiful Trending Top 10 Gold Maang Tikka Designs:-

1. Luxury Bridal Temple Maang Tikka:-

The finest royal tempt of bridal  Temple with a traditional maang tikka featuring complex Kundan work, vibrant inlay detailing, and a Special crescent-shaped pendant.

2. White Stone Design Gold Maang Tikka :-

Infuse a touch of heritage charm with a maang tikka graceful with uncut white stone and lavish pearls. This design comes out of timeless elegance and complements traditional bridal wear.

3.Traditional Temple-inspired Maang Tikka:-

Channel divine grace with a temple-inspired maang tikka featuring tangled gold carvings, divine motifs, and a promise pendant reminiscent of traditional South Indian temple jewelry.

4. Contemporary Peacock Style Gold Maang Tikka:-

For modern brides, a minimalist design gold maang tikka with neat lines, geometric shapes, and tender embellishments offers a classical and refined look that pairs well with various Indian and Western outfits.

5.Loard Ganesh Design Maang Tikka:-

Add a touch of Hindu grandiosity with a lord Ganesh design maang tikka that gorgeously drapes across the forehead, featuring fairy chains, pearls, and a central pendant for a royal and savory appearance.

6.Floral Fantasy Design Maang Tikka:-

Celebrate nature's beauty with a floral-themed gold maang tikka. tender gold flowers, leaves, and vines create a different and feminine design, lovely for a romantic and ethereal Indian bridal look.

7. Chronic Nagas Design Maang Tikka:-

Upgrade yourself to an antique era with a maang tikka showcasing sophisticated filigree work Nagas design Maang Tikka. This vintage design captures the essence of old-world charm.

8. Kundan Splendor with Meenakari Design Maang Tikka:-

Opt for a Kundan maang tikka amplified with vibrant Meenakari detailing for a burst of color. This design brings together the richness of stunning Kundan stones with the artistry of traditional work.

9. Chandanbali Green Design Gold Maang Tikka:-

A sleek and polished chandanbali green gold maang tikka in a curved shape offers a stylish modern and plushy aesthetic. This design is perfect for brides seeking a living yet classic accessory.

10. Double Layer Design Maang Tikka with Gemstones:-

Make a bold statement with a maang tikka featuring large beautiful gemstones such as plushy emeralds, rubies, or sapphires. This design adds a pop of color and makes it a standout piece for special occasions.

Shopping for Gold Maang Tikka Designs:-

When shopping for gold maang tikka designs, think of factors such as the purity of gold, craftsmanship, and the overall design aesthetic. Jewelsmart offers a variety of options, and you may even find adaptation services to create a piece that classifies perfectly with your vision.

When choosing a gold maang tikka, consider your style, the intricacy of the design, and how well it complements your bridal attire. Each of these top 10 designs offers a unique and captivating option for brides seeking the perfect accessory to enhance their wedding day look.

Visit : https://www.jewelsmart.in/blog/top-10-most-promising-gold-maang-tikka-designs 

#maang tikka