#watercolor leaves | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

entropyvoid · 4 months

Text

Greater Sumeru Autism Polycule

This started off as a joke and sorta spiraled outta control just a teensy tiny lil bit. Honestly I would’ve liked to have slapped a bit more on there but uh. Paper space was limited. Transcript below readmore because I know my handwriting can be difficult for some to read? (Plus extra character interpretations/headcanons in italics.)

Disaster MLM half:

Cyno - Highly competitive, except towards Nari, who he practically reveres.

Tighnari - Designated mom friend. (Tighnari is a master of knowing when to be strict and when to be soft. He doesn’t take crap from anyone, but he’s also got a very kind and caring side that encourages others to open up/be vulnerable to him. He makes sure people are taken care of.)

Alhaitham - (He is often misunderstood by others as looking down on them and does nothing to correct their misconceptions or to try and make friends, so I imagine he may have been a bit surprised to basically wake up one day and find himself surrounded by people who look past that and see him for who he is, given that he is probably Teyvat’s most introverted person. He tends to analyze and pick apart the people he likes, like he’s examining them in a petri dish, and if he cares for them he will go out of his way to do silent favors. Not one to express affection verbally (I don’t think he knows how to communicate in a way that isn’t biting and critical,) he lets his actions speak for themselves, and if the other person doesn’t pick up on it, then whatever.)

Kaveh - (An emotional wreck who gives and gives and gives and gives and gives. The people who really stick in his life in the end though are the ones who support him, rather than the other way around, even though Kaveh does his best to try and keep his multitude of problems to himself.)

Kaveh and Alhaitham: Friends to enemies to roommates to lovers? (It’s complicated.) (Tsundere x Kuudere. Teyvat’s messiest gays, hands down. There is so much more to say about them than I have the room for here.)

Cyno and Tighnari: Anthro guy and his furry boyfriend, sweet and spend as much time together as possible, co-parenting Collei. (They’re very domestic with each other. Cyno lowkey lives for competition and usually bonds with others through it, but he doesn’t really do that so much with Nari, their relationship seems to be the exception. Perhaps because Cyno thinks so highly of Tighnari and has such a tremendous amount of trust for him that he just sort of believes Tighnari will succeed at whatever he does.)

Kaveh and Cyno: Met through Tighnari, and like each other a lot. Unbeknownst to Kaveh though, Cyno sees him as a comedic rival. (And thinks he’s very pretty.) (Kaveh is unaware of this. Both the Cyno thinking he’s pretty bit, and the fact that Cyno sees him as a comedic rival. Kaveh doesn’t even try to be funny, his rants about his roommate just sort of are by default.)

Cyno and Alhaitham: Like two tomcats having a standoff (homoerotic edition.) (Haitham is not typically a competitive person, but his respect and admiration for Cyno makes him sort of an exception, and each of them r e a l l y bring out the fight in each other. I think of their relationship as being much like the one between a shounen protag (in this case Cyno) and their rival (in this case Alhaitham.) They challenge each other, bring out the best in each other and have fun in the process, and form a close bond built on a deep level of mutual respect. A.k.a if Cyno is Yugi-coded, then Alhaitham is his Kaiba.)

Alhaitham and Tighnari: Met through Kaveh, lowkey awkward and shy towards each other in a way neither really expresses. They don’t quite fully know what to make of the other, but they do like each other. (Could become something more…?) (They seem to interact the least in the group, and Tighnari’s perception of Alhaitham is probably effected by Kaveh’s endless ranting and venting, but they’re both friendly towards each other and seem to like each other. But I’d like to see them interact more directly with each other. Plus - sometimes Alhaitham needs to be told he’s being a prideful idiot - and I think Tighnari’s the only person in his life who would be able to calmly break down and explain why he’s being an idiot, and Alhaitham would be very likely to listen to him.)

Tighnari and Kaveh: Long time besties, Nari is Kaveh’s designated venting buddy and his last anchor to sanity. (Tighnari is also particularly gentle with and supportive of Kaveh.)

Wholesome WLW half:

Dehya - Tripped and ended up with three girlfriends, and brought them all together. (Dehya probably gets propositions from a lotta starstruck swooning ladies, but it’s always while she’s on the job, and she’s a professional. Plus, I hc her as demiromantic, I just get the vibe that she’d only really want to date people she already knows well. She has a very tough reputation, but is very tender with her three weed smoking gfs.)

Dunyarzad - Is very active during her Elezar recovery and often travels to visit her various girlfriends and likes to bring them gifts. (I think she loves nature, and once she’s able to more freely move and explore without the threat of being locked away, I think nothing could stop Dunyarzad from going to see as much of Sumeru as she can. Dehya often accompanies her.)

Nilou - This is what punk looks like in Sumeru. (Local artist down to overthrow the government at the drop of a hat, is stuck in a constant struggle against the Akademiya to have the right to exist as herself publicly. Nilou’s incredibly badass, actually.)

Candace - Calm and comforting, Candace herself is like an oasis in the desert to those close to her.

Dehya and Dunyarzad: Lady and her knight romance. (Their adoration for each other is clear. Dehya’s too professional to date her employer, but all bets are off once she quits.)

Dehya and Candace: Two of the desert’s toughest warriors being ridiculously cute and wholesome together.

Dehya and Nilou: Dehya not only has a lot of respect for Nilou’s nonconformity and resistance, but also finds her adorable. Takes her out often.

Dunyarzad and Nilou: Long standing friends, now go on trips together often. (Nilou’s schedule is very flexible, so she’s often down to travel with Dunyarzad at the drop of a hat, where Dehya is sometimes preoccupied with a job. Plus, they totally both end up planning future Sabzeruz festivals together.)

Dunyarzad and Candace: Met through Dehya and quickly became close. Dunyarzad has a type, and it’s sweet yet badass women.

Candace and Nilou: Nilou’s always the most successful at getting Candace to step away from her duties in Aaru village and go have fun with everyone. (The others really don’t know how she does it.)

Aaaand the couple of bridges between:

Kaveh and Nilou: Unbreakable bond of the only two art kids in Sumeru. (Pls hoyo I need them to interact in canon.)

Alhaitham and Dehya: Alhaitham has a one-sided crush on Dehya, (and occasionally invites her to TCG nights,) while Dehya thinks he’s the weirdest friend she has. (I hc Alhaitham as the kind of bisexual guy who’s 99% attracted to men with like One Buff Woman thrown in there because. Frankly. I think it adds a really funny extra dimension to their relationship. Haitham has never met anyone as forthright and honest as Dehya, and admires that about her. Dehya would never reciprocate his feelings in a million years, she values him as a friend, but also finds him snooty and insufferable at times, and struggles to understand him largely because of the vast cultural/communication style gap between Akademiya scholars and Eremite mercenaries, though this is somewhat bridged by the fact that both of them are extremely honest, blunt, and upfront about what they think. Despite their differences, they are a fun duo.)

507 notes · View notes

quoththemaiden · 2 months

Text

@mrghostrat This is now the third time since December that I'm writing about your middle-aged men and their middle-aged-man problems (1, 2). Please come collect them, because they're causing a disturbance.

Or, if you aren't able to wrangle them, then please enjoy this scene inspired by Chapter 10 of Big Name Feelings.

For everyone who hasn't already seen the top portion of this on Discord, know that this is set sometime after the con but before the big bang.

—

"I think your hair might be getting long enough to braid now."

Crowley's eyes snapped over to him. "Braid?"

Aziraphale blinked at the sharp question. "I didn't mean anything by it." He'd still never figured out quite where Crowley's gender identity lay, or if it changed day-by-day. He suspected Crowley's public presentation of his gender was either "whatever's simplest for everyone involved" (around people he didn't know but generally liked, like at the con) or "whatever causes the most problems for everyone involved" (like with a particularly annoying security guard that had left Aziraphale remembering that being middle-aged, white, and extremely stuffy in appearance was its own form of armor). Aziraphale's own perception of Crowley's gender was just "Crowley." What Crowley felt about it was something Aziraphale had never quite managed to parse out. "You can do whatever you like—"

"Do you know how?"

"How...?"

"To braid hair." Crowley's tone was oddly urgent. "Like for your nieces or cousins or—"

"—for crafting, yes. Tassels for bookmarks and such. You want me to—" Crowley practically flinging himself down onto the sofa next to him was answer enough. "Oh."

Crowley's hair really was barely long enough to braid, Aziraphale decided as he gently freed it from its elastic band. He ran his fingers through it slowly and carefully, easing out the light tangles from a day's confinement. Crowley slumped forward in boneless contentment, and Aziraphale had to switch to prickling the top of his scalp with his fingernails to get him to sit up straight enough for Aziraphale to work.

Aziraphale determined his gameplan, then, and gently eased up a few locks of hair at the crown of Crowley's head, smoothing down the top with the flat of his palm. He started working the strands into a French braid, taking it tiny piece by tiny piece to ensure every section was balanced in size. If Crowley were doing it himself, he suspected he'd get it done in just five messy joins, but every strand he brought in gave Aziraphale another excuse to run his fingertips along Crowley's scalp and he luxuriated in each opportunity. "Has anyone ever told you your hair is unreasonably thick?" he murmured, his voice huskier with fond affection than he'd intended. Crowley spared him from a tease by being too utterly sedated to manage more than a vague hum in response. Aziraphale smiled at that and kept his progress blissfully slow and methodical until he had no choice but to tie the braid off at the nape of Crowley's neck — half a French braid, half a ponytail made bushy from having had waves worked into it. He placed a soft kiss to the back of Crowley's head, padded by the thickest part of Crowley's braid and somehow all the more intimate for it. "All done, love."

Crowley leaned back against Aziraphale's chest, tilting back his head to look up at him with eyes made impossibly soft with contentment. "I'm never putting my own hair up again. Just hope you know that."

Aziraphale chuckled softly, just as fond. "I'll manage somehow, I suppose."

—

Crowley's boneless appreciation of the hair braiding had turned into boneless napping, and while Aziraphale enjoyed having Crowley fall asleep against him at certain times of day, he had never been one for naps himself and there was a limit to how long he could stay motionless sans entertainment before even he got antsy. He eased his way out from under Crowley, grateful the other man was a heavy sleeper even during the day, and was left deciding what quiet amusement he could pursue until whenever Crowley woke up and started making noises about dinner. He could always read some fanfics, of course, but his eyes couldn't help but be drawn towards his favorite muse.

His muse who had, he recalled, tempted him into joining a rigged bang and had talked him into getting a digital tablet. Aziraphale still planned to do his official art for it traditionally, because he was sure Crowley's writing would deserve no less... and, if he was allowed to be vain in the privacy of his own mind, because he still remembered the feeling he'd had when Crowley responded to his scans with barely coherent keysmashing. He wasn't in deferential awe of Crowley anymore, although he still loved his writing just as much, but part of him still hoped that Crowley might respond with just as much enthusiasm at getting to see the finished piece in person, textured paper and unprocessed colors and all. Well, assuming he could be gutsy enough to actually give it to him in person instead of just leaving it on the drafting table for him to find, which was really the more statistically likely result. But anyway.

But anyway.

His muse was sleeping in front of him, and a stylus on an iPad would make hardly any noise at all. And if he got good enough at using it, maybe he could draw some extra digital art to celebrate the fic as well.

In any case, sketching Crowley while he slept was one of life's little joys. He didn't think Crowley knew how often he did it, and that was probably for the best. If he did it all in his notebook, it would have been too easy for Crowley to flip through and find the sketches (and removing sheets would have felt damnably like a guilty conscience). With his iPad, however, he was safe to sketch as much as he liked and there was no real way for Crowley to stumble across it. Aziraphale willfully shoved aside the thought that that didn't really sound any less guilty and started setting stylus to screen. It wasn't long until he'd settled into a comfortable rhythm, his eyes flicking back and forth between the screen and where Crowley was lying face-down on the sofa, his new braid highlighted in a beam of afternoon sunlight.

Something Aziraphale did appreciate about digital art was that white could be layered on top of other colors and be shockingly vibrant, which wasn't an effect he could get easily with his beloved watercolors. Something else watercolors didn't give him was the ability to pick out very fine details, and as his sketch started coming together, he found that was exactly what he wanted to do now. While Crowley's hair was a vibrant red in his selfies or on stage, when he'd had the opportunity to run his fingers through every strand, he'd found that Crowley's hair was showing his age just as much as his own was.

The first day Aziraphale had found a grey hair had come as a shock. He'd naively assumed that with his hair being as pale as it was, even if it started greying, he might well never know. Instead, he found that the grey hairs' texture was frustratingly different from the strands that were still blond, and until they reached a critical mass fifteen long years later, they had an unfortunate tendency to stick out unattractively if his cut was anything less than perfect. He had become quite a regular at his barber's.

With Crowley's hair being as long as it was, his grey hairs had worked smoothly into his braid. From even the small distance from couch to armchair, they melded into the red strands perfectly... but Aziraphale had just spent long minutes twining them into neat twists and didn't need to see them now to know they were there. Aziraphale zoomed in close (another marked benefit of the digital display) and set his pen to a thin, sharp line, layering sleek silver strands into the red braid he'd drawn. Following the way they weaved around each other and dipped in and out of view felt delightfully meditative.

Eventually, Crowley made a soft snuffling snort-groan as he roused from his nap, slowly turning to unbury his face from the pillows. "Wha' time'zit?" he mumbled, patting around blindly for his cellphone.

"Coming up on 5:30 now," Aziraphale replied softly, trying not to startle him into full wakefulness too quickly. He rose and fetched Crowley's phone, placing it gently into his fumbling hand. "There you go."

"Mmrrr. Don't need it now." Crowley tucked the phone under his side in what Aziraphale would have guessed would be a very uncomfortable fashion but which Crowley did without even thinking. At least it wouldn't be going anywhere from there, Aziraphale supposed. "What're you doin'?" Crowley made grabby hands at the iPad Aziraphale had brought over with him.

Aziraphale handed over the iPad without even one thought, much less a second. "Oh, I was just waiting for you to wake up, really."

"...Angel." Crowley had zoomed out on the picture (with a completely unsurprising lack of propriety) and was now staring, frozen and much more awake, at the drawing of himself. "You aren't going to post this on Tumblr, are you?"

Aziraphale laughed at the sheer ridiculousness of that, despite the ripple of shock Crowley's tense tone had caused him. "Come, now. When have I ever posted a drawing of you, my dear?"

"When have you ever made a drawing of me?" Crowley retorted. He waved vaguely at the screen, accidentally sparing Aziraphale from having to answer. "I don't mind being old, but I don't want the world knowing my boyfriend thinks I'm old." His frazzled waving turned a little more flaily.

"Crowley..." Aziraphale gently took the tablet back from him and set it down on the floor so he could take Crowley's hand in both of his. "I assure you, I'm not the kind of artist who spends my time drawing things I don't think are beautiful. And that includes every detail I put in."

Aziraphale would have hoped that was obvious, really. The strands of hair he had drawn weren't brittle grey; they were molten silver. They caught the light like a precious metal woven like a ribbon into cinnabar-red hair. Crowley could have been a queen, fallen asleep after a long day in her finery. He could have been a fae whose very essence was beauty, sleeping with no fear that it would be stolen away because it couldn't.

He could have been an ordinary man, who was so deeply, truly loved that even his grey hairs seemed to shine like the soft gleam of a newly-forged star when they caught the last strong beams of afternoon sunlight shining in through the windows.

Aziraphale hoped Crowley could see it, too.

Crowley made a grumpy noise. "I still don't want it on Tumblr. — Not that I can tell you what to do with your art, but—"

Aziraphale interrupted him with a warm smile. "I don't want it on Tumblr, either. I drew this just for me."

"...really? Even though...?"

"Just for me," Aziraphale whispered in confirmation, his eyes seeking out Crowley's and saving him from having to finish that sentence. "I've only ever drawn you for me." I love you to the point of creation, his heart sang. It wasn't quite how that quote went, he knew. It was the only way it had ever gone, for him.

"Hn..." Crowley shifted to look at the iPad where it lay down on the floor. "I suppose... Well. Despite the subject matter, you drew it well, at least."

"Well, thank you for that," Aziraphale jibed back lightly, completely devoid of malice.

"Ngh, you can't blame me for feeling self-conscious about my greys when you haven't got any."

Aziraphale let out a huff of a laugh. "Oh, Crowley."

"What?" Crowley looked defensive, then abruptly switched to looking shrewd. "Wait. Do you dye them??" He leaned forward eagerly, like this was taboo knowledge.

"Oh, where was that compliment two decades ago? No, not at all. Do you know how long I spent getting over feeling self-conscious about them, and now for you to not even realize I have them?"

"No way. You've been holding out on me!" Crowley's eyes had a light in them that Aziraphale had seen sometimes — the look of someone who has been wanting something very much and thinks he's just figured out how to get it. Aziraphale drew back instinctively in trepidation. He had no idea what Crowley could possibly be wanting, though a fluttering feeling in his chest suggested that it was, in some way, him.

Ridiculous. As if they hadn't had sex already.

"I'm going to go get dinner started."

Crowley let out a whine that cut off abruptly enough that Aziraphale suspected he actually hadn't intended to make it.

Aziraphale paused. "What?"

"Ehhh... just envious, s'all."

Aziraphale took a moment to muse about whether Crowley knew the difference between "envious" and "jealous" and decided, firmly, that he had faith that he did. "Of what?" he asked with an incredulous laugh, since he still had no idea what "envious" could possibly apply to here.

"Negghhh, you've gotten to play with my hair enough to know I have greys, and I haven't gotten to touch yours once."

Aziraphale blushed darkly at that, remembering some choice occasions in which Crowley had gripped his hair tightly enough to hurt. He cleared his throat and opted not to mention them. "That feels much more like your fault than mine."

"Just... tryin'a respect your boundaries, angel."

"Why would that be a boundary?" Aziraphale asked, baffled.

"I asked for it and you haven't."

Aziraphale didn't quite remember it that way, but it was a fair enough interpretation from Crowley's point of view, he supposed. "Well, no. It sounds perfectly nice, but I'd hate to bore you with it. I know you're much more fidgety than I am."

"Not bored," Crowley insisted, his eyes urgent. "Never bored when it's you, angel. Siddown."

Aziraphale laughed breathily. "Too late. I'm already up to cook dinner."

"Angel."

"You'll just have to wait," Aziraphale teased in a singsong lilt, casting a smile back at Crowley over his shoulder.

Crowley flung himself back on the couch with an impatient whine, leaving Aziraphale feeling very smug about his attempt at whatever the romantic equivalent of foreplay was. Crowley sounded very much like he was being left with blue balls. "Bastard."

"Only as much as you deserve, my dear," Aziraphale sang back as he went into the kitchen, acutely aware of Crowley's eyes following every step.

—

It wasn't really in question, at all, that Aziraphale would end the evening snuggled on the couch with Crowley's hands in his hair. There was also no question that he'd enjoy it thoroughly, and he also knew it wasn't the kind of thing that was likely to lead to anything more. So, instead, he just relaxed into it and let his thoughts drift.

"...do you really think I'd mind if my red fox turned into a silver fox?" he mused. The thought was languid, easy, relaxed. Crowley spluttered in incoherent surprise anyway, and Aziraphale laughed softly. "Yes, I know. There's a reason I'm not the writer of the pair."

"Y'are, though. Don't think I've forgotten that you are."

Aziraphale blushed a little at that. "Oh."

Crowley's hands resumed their meditative motion through Aziraphale's hair. "But... yeah. I'd rock it, wouldn't I?"

"You would," Aziraphale murmured with a smile. "And I'm quite looking forward to seeing it someday, my dear."

#good omens #ineffable husbands #bnf au #fanfiction of fanfiction #my writing #not actually about asexuality but let's be honest that hair-petting scene was my kind of ace #apologies for any misrepresentation about watercolors #seriously bilvy come get your middle-aged men and their middle-aged-man problems out of my head #and be aware that if you leave time between posting future chapters then i might have to write more and nobody wants that

205 notes · View notes