#been seeing lots of western au art on here lately and I love it!!

[cricketsintheaudience]

west’s finest!

[eleanorfenyxwrites]

Outta Time

So @littlesmartart and I discovered that we both love Orville Peck, and I decided it might be nice to write Western Cowboy shit that isn't the Brokeback Mountain AU so here's this 😂 Inspired by Orville Peck's song 'Outta Time' from the album Bronco (Jess came up with the plot, I wrote it, and she's drawn art to go along with it for the visual that's directly inspired by the song [and that was all I had in mind for this before she came up with the plot lol]!)

--//--

It was, perhaps, foolishness on Meng Yao’s part to think that Huaisang was telling him nothing but the unvarnished truth when he’d invited him to head out West with him for a luxury vacation, set to last the entirety of their summer break.

“It’ll be like one of those fancy retreats silly rich people go on!” he’d insisted (as if he isn’t mind-bogglingly ridiculous and wealthier than Meng Yao could ever hope of being [considering he’s only just recently been forced to accept he’ll never see a single iota of his father’s support, emotionally or financially]). “Trust me!”

Mistake number 1 had been saying, “Alright A-Sang, I trust you.”

Mistake number 2 : being a man of his word.

Within a month of receiving Huaisang’s invitation, summer arrives with rolling peals of thunder heralding oppressive humidity and swarms of mosquitos. Meng Yao, a man of his word as stated, dutifully packs most of his belongings into a suitcase that weighs far less than the upper limit of the airline’s luggage weight restriction and navigates the pair of them through the airport with minimal stress, mainly thanks to not allowing Huaisang to be in charge of anything at all.

He chats with Huaisang on and off throughout their flight to keep himself distracted from the fact that he’s leaving behind everything he’s ever known to spend three months in the middle of bumfuck nowhere at his only friend’s brother's ranch, which Huaisang had only told him the full truth about yesterday, after it was already far too late to gracefully back out. Meng Yao’s promised luxury vacation destination is apparently in actuality a cattle ranch that Huaisang’s brother apparently runs mostly to keep himself in shape and avoid the stress of city life that had given him a heart attack at the ripe old age of 27 a few years back. (It is, by far, the weirdest ‘so I have this older brother’ story that Meng Yao has ever heard.)

“So this brother of yours –” Meng Yao finally caves and asks about an hour before final descent.

“Uh-huh?”

“He just…up and left New York. For Montana?”

“Yep,” Huaisang pops the ‘p’ and flicks to the next page in his magazine, unbothered, “After his heart attack he said he wanted to see some mountains and get some actual fresh air if he was just going to die soon anyway, it really dramatic and maudlin, which he never is, I was so proud. Only it turns out it was exactly what he needed to not die, so after a while he decided he would just stay out there for good. He bought the house and the land and some horses to give himself something to do besides stare at the sky all day, and then he was still kind of bored so he bought some cattle.”

Naturally. As one does.

“And now he’s…a cattle rancher. From New York City.”

Huaisang laughs and finally looks up from his magazine to smile at Meng Yao like ‘oh you sweet little thing’ in the way Meng Yao kind of hates, but Huaisang does it to everyone so he can’t really take too much offense.

“Yes, Yaoyao, you’ll understand when you meet him! Da-ge’s never really been a city guy, not like us. It suits him much better to be out here, especially since his best friend moved out here to help him out. Xichen-ge treats it like a meditation retreat but with a lot more mucking out stalls. He says even that part’s therapeutic, but I’m just going to take his word on that one, ‘cause ew.”

“Uh-huh.”

Huaisang leaves him to consider just what the hell he’s gotten himself into for the rest of the flight, and then they’re navigating their way (ridiculously easily) through the rinky-dink airport hardly bigger than a parking garage, the sky beyond the terminal windows blue blue blue where it stretches on forever in every direction.

“Da-ge!”

Meng Yao barely manages to snag Huaisang’s duffel when his friend flings it off his shoulder to go sprinting across the 3-carousel baggage claim, the fastest Meng Yao has ever seen him move. It’s a distinct relief that Meng Yao can use juggling their bags as an excuse to approach at a much more respectable pace; he needs the extra time to truly digest what he’s seeing.

Huaisang, as a former-model-turned-fasion-designer who happily calls himself a fruit at every opportunity, is one of the daintiest men Meng Yao has ever met. He’d even go so far as to call him a dandy, if pressed, and fully supports his friend’s decision to call himself every ‘emasculating’ label under the sun with obvious relish. He can’t deny that at least some of his confusion as to his best friend’s mysterious older brother’s chosen lifestyle stemmed from picturing someone like Huaisang, if perhaps a little taller.

He’s not confused anymore.

The man who catches Huaisang midair and swings him in a circle before setting him back on his feet would never be asked to grace the runways of New York — not because he isn’t beautiful enough to make Meng Yao’s fingers twitch for his camera to capture the way the sun cuts across his weather-tanned face, but because no one has ever heard of a fashion model who was roughly 6’7” and perhaps 300 pounds of solid, clearly functional muscle.

Huaisang’s brother towers over everyone else in the building that Meng Yao can see (and he can see most of them, re: rinky-dink airport in the middle of bumfuck Montana), and when he looks over the heads of the few people between Meng Yao and the exit their eyes lock instantly.

“A-Sang, be nicer to your friend,” Meng Yao can hear from here, a bass rumble that Does Things to his chest. “Go get your bag, don’t make your guest carry your shit or he’ll think I never taught you decent manners. Go on.”

Huaisang flutters back over and takes his bag with an unapologetic grin. Meng Yao finishes taking the ten-odd steps necessary for the brother to stick his hand out with a wry little smirk and say, “Hey, I’m Mingjue.”

“Meng Yao,” he replies and slides his hand into Mingjue’s dry, work-calloused palm.

“Welcome to big sky country, A-Yao,” Mingjue replies with a widening smile, a flash of straight white teeth and a dimple hiding under his mustache, and Meng Yao regrets to say that he’s thoroughly fucked.

–//–

The land unfolds around them as they drive down straight roads at an almost leisurely pace through miles and miles of…nothing.

Not nothing, Meng Yao supposes, but long gone are the corridors of towering skyscrapers, the lingering miasma of so many people living together in tight quarters, everyone building up up up to stack ever-more people into the same few square miles. Meng Yao understands, suddenly, why Mingjue had come here and stayed. He doesn’t think he has it in him to eschew all the conveniences of New York City for the open country, but someone like Mingjue seems like the type to appreciate having the space to…expand. To be bigger than life and have the room to do it in. He certainly feels larger than life at the moment as he details for Huaisang all the comings and goings on the ranch since he’d last visited, as he talks about the horses and his cattle and the monsoon rains they’d apparently only just missed that had finally turned everything summer-green.

Meng Yao sits on the bench seat of Mingjue’s beat up old pickup truck and watches the sparse scattering of fluffy white clouds drift over more sky than he’s ever seen in his life and he gets it.

He hasn’t gotten nearly enough of his fill of marveling (subtly) over the view by the time they pull off the road onto a dirt road that Huaisang tells him is actually Mingjue’s driveway, but he contents himself with the knowledge that they’re here for three months, he’ll have plenty of time to appreciate the view later. They rattle over a few metal grates Mingjue explains are cattle guards to keep the animals from escaping the ranch should they manage to break out of their pastures, and Meng Yao isn’t a child so he doesn’t exclaim about how fucking huge the cattle are some distance away from the road where they’re grazing (but he certainly rethinks his half-baked desire to see them up close anytime soon).

“Home sweet home,” Mingjue announces when they reach the end of the lane after another mile or two and opens his door with a creak. Meng Yao leans forward to look up at the house through his lashes and must not be able to control his expression as much as he’d prefer as Huaisang chuckles at him a little, nudging him in the side with his pointy little elbow.

“Told you it was nice,” he chirps and slides across the seat to get out on the driver’s side. “Da-ge be careful!” he trills, his nervous fretting muffled as he scurries around to the bed of the truck. Meng Yao doesn’t pay attention to their bickering or the scuffle of hard-soled boots on dirt, though his attention is snagged at least a bit by the sound of Mingjue laughing at whatever he’s just done to make Huaisang whine at him.

The house is beautiful, is the thing. Somehow he hadn’t thought that it would be, perhaps owing to how many times he’s listened to Huaisang complain about his brother’s lack of taste for anything even remotely fashionable. He should really stop assuming things about Mingjue, he supposes, considering he’s currently scored 0 for 2, and he hates to lose.

He gets out of the car, finally, to better appreciate white-washed wood paneling just beginning to show hints of weathering, blue shutters clearly freshly painted the same shade of the sky overhead with the front door painted to match. There are rocking chairs on the wraparound porch, clearly well-loved if the flattened, sun-faded cushions on them are anything to judge by, positioned to face west. He has a sudden mental image of Mingjue sitting out here in the evenings to watch the sunset over the mountains looming in the distance and has to shake himself all over once (discreetly) to keep from sticking himself in the chair next to him in this little pastoral fantasy. That’s just making it weird.

“You want the grand tour or you wanna settle in?” Mingjue asks; Meng Yao doesn’t jump to find himself standing next to his host he hadn’t heard approaching, but he does feel suddenly…shy in a way he’s definitely not used to. He tilts his head enough to squint up at Mingjue, the sun too bright in his eyes, and finds to his dismay that he’s still just as handsome as he’d been an hour ago.

“I want you to give him the tour!” Huaisang calls from where he’s petting a horse (an actual horse, but are they supposed to be that tall??) that’s come up to the fence at the other end of the front yard, such as it is, to duck down and nose at Huaisang like an old friend.

“I don’t care what you want, you little brat,” Mingjue calls back. “And don’t you dare give that beast whatever candy you’ve got in your pockets, do you know how long it took to train him out of biting people who didn’t give him any after you left?!”

Meng Yao hides a smile behind his hand and finds himself mostly glad that there’s someone else around now to be the recipient of Huaisang’s incessant whining when he’s really putting on a performance. He clears his throat a little and schools his expression back towards pleasant neutrality when Mingjue looks down at him again, clearly unwilling to entertain his brother’s antics a moment longer than necessary.

“I think I’d like to settle in first,” he allows himself to say, and is perhaps mildly startled when Mingjue doesn’t question it, when he simply nods and lets Meng Yao be that tiny bit selfish.

“Come on in then, your room’s upstairs.”

Meng Yao follows Mingjue inside out of the sun and finds himself surrounded by an eclectic mix of antiques and modern minimalism; framed photos and bric-a-brac piled up in out-of-the-way corners of sleek monochrome shelves hemmed in on every side by enormous, dense furniture of the sort that reminds him of a time at least half a century ago, if not longer. The result is antiquated in a charming way with enough touches of modernity that he doesn’t think Mingjue is necessarily out of touch, just pragmatic about his home. If something old will still do, why replace it? It’s a mentality Meng Yao can appreciate, and he finds himself smiling a little again as he trails behind Mingjue up the stairs and down the short hallway to the room in the back corner.

“Here you go,” Mingjue says and slings both Meng Yao’s and Huaisang’s bags off his shoulder, which is precisely when Meng Yao realizes he’d been carrying their luggage in one hand like it weighs nothing. He notices it, allows himself two seconds to admire it, and promptly tucks that little tidbit away for future consideration. Later.

“I’ll be around, just holler if you need anything. I’m sure A-Sang will be in to bother you once he’s finished saying hi to the herd, I’ll let you enjoy the quiet while you’ve got it.”

“Thanks, Mingjue,” Meng Yao says with a smile, and it might be a moment of wishful thinking, or just his imagination, but he swears he sees Mingjue’s gaze drop to his mouth for a beat too long before the man nods and retreats. Meng Yao has no way to know if the flush on the back of Mingjue’s neck is from the sun or, maybe, something else.

–//–

Huaisang does come inside eventually, and though he has his own unpacking to do Meng Yao isn’t surprised at all when his friend comes to his room first to flop onto his bed and promptly make himself at home to start bugging him.

(He wouldn’t want or expect anything different.)

As Meng Yao hangs up shirts and trousers with far more care than they probably need, Huaisang regales him with stories from other trips to the ranch and a quick run-down of the personalities of the horses Mingjue keeps, both his own and some he boards for others who can’t keep their own animals for whatever reason. Meng Yao makes enough leading, noncommittal noises to keep his friend chattering as he settles in, though the chatter becomes decidedly less pleasant as far as background noise goes when Huaisang starts talking about getting Meng Yao to socialize.

Within moments it’s clear he already has a plan on how to do so, because of course he does, and of course it’s some stranger’s houseparty where Meng Yao will know absolutely no one at all.

“Absolutely not, Huaisang,” he says tartly, but of course Huaisang only takes that as an invitation to persuade him.

“This isn’t like parties back home, A-Yao, I promise!” he wheedles. Meng Yao just goes on unpacking his meager belongings into the antique dresser in the corner of his room that holds a window overlooking the equipment-littered space between the back porch and the horse barn, and he very pointedly does not rise to Huaisang’s bait. He’s still not immune to his best friend’s cajoling and they both know it, but he feels the need to deny him a little longer for the sake of his pride, if nothing else.

“Nothing here is like home, Huaisang, your argument is invalid,” he replies blithely and debates the merit of hanging his undershirts in the too-big closet with the rest of his clothes, rather than folding them up into a too-big drawer where they’ll just look sad on their own.

“Okay point taken, but seriously! You’ll have a nice time, it’ll be chill, I swear. Xichen-ge is coming, and he never goes anywhere things will get out of hand!”

A party tempting enough to interest Huaisang is typically guaranteed to be anything but ‘chill’, he doesn’t point out, but…well. Meng Yao had just said it himself — nothing here so far is like what they’ve come from, maybe Huaisang’s different here too. Maybe a party’s really not such a bad idea. And if it is, Mingjue, having already overheard Huaisang mentioning the party on his way past Meng Yao’s room with a load of clean laundry in his arms, has already made it very clear that he’s happy to either loan them his truck for the night or else drive them himself. Considering Meng Yao has no interest in drinking so much he wouldn’t be able to drive (because he, unlike his best friend, is a very functional city gay who can drive, thank you very much) it’s a guaranteed exit strategy, should he feel the need to escape.

Meng Yao ignores Huaisang’s pleading eyes for a few moments longer simply for the fun of it as he slides his undershirts onto clattering plastic hangers, and only smiles once his back is turned as Huaisang shouts his delight when Meng Yao sighs, “Well…I guess I’ve got nowhere better to go.”

–//–

This time, Huaisang did tell him the unvarnished truth.

It’s clear from the moment they pull up in the warm violet twilight that this party is nothing like the ones they frequent back home. It’s in someone’s actual house, for one, which he supposes isn’t too strange when not being hosted in a city made entirely of apartments and highrises, but the house itself is in the middle of a giant patch of…nothing. It’s just a house on a dirt lot full of pickup trucks in various stages of rusting, with lights strung everywhere possible on the wraparound porch (except that it’s not really a porch so much as it is a prefabricated metal roof over part of the patch of dirt and sparse grass ‘yard’). He’s pretty sure he even sees a barn lit up the same way some few hundred feet behind the house, but he can’t get a good look at it from here and decides to put it out of his mind.

“Let me know if you end up needing the truck,” Mingjue says over the sound of twanging guitar coming from someone’s massive speakers as they hop down (well he steps down out of the truck like he’s just crossing a threshold; Meng Yao and Huaisang are too vertically challenged to get down out of the thing without at least a little hop). “I’m gonna head in to grab a beer, you two want anything?”

“We’re good, da-ge!” Huaisang chirps, already eyeing up a cluster of guys all dressed nearly identically in tight jeans and threadbare flannels with the sleeves cut off and the resulting gaping holes fraying artlessly, with the main differentiating factor between them being if they’re wearing cowboy hats or baseball caps. Meng Yao glances between his options — Huaisang’s all-too-familiar thirsting over extremely lackluster men who don’t deserve him and Mingjue’s retreating figure carving a path through the crowd — and decides to take his chances with the latter, though he hangs back a little to give Mingjue space.

The house, when he steps inside, at least smells pretty much like what he’s used to at parties. Too many competing colognes and perfumes, the sticky sweetness of alcohol, and the haze of cigarette smoke are almost comforting like this, even as he promptly gets lost amongst the sprawling, dimly-lit rooms crowded with strangers nursing beers or chatting (read: feeling) each other up in dim corners. He finds a staircase in the middle of the house and uses it to orient himself as he wanders in several clockwise circles until he’s mapped out the living room, the den, the kitchen where he snags a beer from the 6’5” cowboy (he’s assuming he’s a cowboy based on the hat and the whole ‘house party on a farm in Montana’ thing) standing at the keg, the door to the back ‘porch’ that’s about as porch-like as the one out front, and an overcrowded room that seems to serve no purpose but to be a place to play beer pong.

He’s just circled his way back to the front door near the stairs once again when he finds his path blocked by someone turned away from him; someone broad and tall and wearing pale blue, which just seems like a mistake when any moment could end in spilled beer and flustered mopping up with a crumpled handful of napkins, perhaps even the removal of said shirt to get it in the upstairs bathroom sink to soak out the stain before it sets —

Alright so it’s been a while and a man has needs, especially when surrounded by ridiculously tall beefcakes on every side. Sue him.

Rather than spilling his shitty beer on this guy to see if he can get him to take his shirt off, Meng Yao clears his throat and taps the guy on his waist once, just the lightest touch of two fingers to body-warmed cotton, and the guy turns smoothly, an apology already on his lips.

“Oh, excuse me,” he says, hardly audible over the music jangling from the beer pong room. Meng Yao tilts his head back a bit — and then a bit more — to meet the guy’s gaze and he’s startled to find he’s also Asian. It takes him roughly three seconds to put two-and-two together when the guy smiles at him like he knows him and ducks down to talk a little closer. Meng Yao makes a conscious decision to stay very still to let him do it.

“Might you be Meng Yao?” he asks and Meng Yao can only nod dumbly. “Mingjue sent me to find you, would you like to come sit with us? Da-ge’s great for commandeering the couch at these things.”

Sitting down sounds great, Meng Yao thinks, especially when the crowd shifts enough for him to catch sight of the ratty old sofa in the living room to find Mingjue currently occupying it alone, manspread more than far enough to make it clear that no one else is sitting on that couch unless he invites them (and he doesn’t look like he’s in a particularly inviting mood).

“Are you sure?” Meng Yao asks, wary, but the man (who must be Mingjue’s best friend, Xichen) just smiles at him again and tips his head in that direction, gesturing vaguely with one of his bottles of beer as if for emphasis.

“Of course! Come on, you’ve had a long day of traveling and I wanted to apologize for not being able to meet you at the house this afternoon. Just sit with us for a while, we’ll introduce you around later if you want us to.”

Meng Yao finds it a pretty tough proposition to say no to so he just nods again and gestures with his own beer (in a stereotypical red Solo cup he’d been amused to receive) for Xichen to lead the way. It isn’t so far that Meng Yao worries about losing him in the crowd, really, but he doesn’t let that stop him from hooking an index finger through the center back belt loop on Xichen’s skin-tight jeans, ‘just in case’.  Xichen simply smiles at him over his shoulder as they pass through the nearly-black front hallway and into the scarcely-brighter living room, red Christmas lights around the ceiling and the overhead bulb in the kitchen through the other doorway the only lighting for the entire room.

“Hey, there you are,” Mingjue says as they approach, and though he swings one knee closer to straight in front of himself to manspread a little less he leaves his arm slung casually along the top of the back cushions, reaching up with his free hand to snag the beer Xichen had brought for him and taking a swig of it as Xichen joins him.

On the opposite end of the couch.

Meng Yao hides behind a sip of his own flat beer quickly warming to room temperature as he contemplates the small (small) space between them and, between one disappointing sip and the next, decides he’s feeling reckless enough after a long day of new things and the freedom of traveling so many miles from home that he’s just going to go for it, and fuck the consequences.

Xichen slings his arm over the rest of the back of the couch, fingertips brushing lightly against Mingjue’s elbow where they overlap. Meng Yao sits down right in between them, settles in, and pointedly ignores the way the tired old couch springs squeak in protest of their combined weight and how he seems to pull the other two in like a magnet. It’s like gravity, centers of balance shifting and leaning inwards into his orbit, the pair of them bracketing him on either side, parentheses made of denim and muscle and smiling mouths that he pretends not to notice creeping closer as they keep finding excuses to lean in closer over the course of the next few minutes, not at all subtle. They drift in, in, in to talk to him over the music until they’re both practically kissing him on the cheeks just to be heard as they chat about nothing much at all.

Meng Yao finishes his beer and lets Xichen take the empty cup from him to set aside, and when he leans back in even closer than a moment before, Meng Yao offers him a coy little smile of the sort that’s weakened tougher men than Xichen seems to be and drops his newly-freed hand on his knee, mirroring the caress on Mingjue’s knee with his free hand on the other side.

It would be more than accurate to say that Xichen melts like butter — melts so obviously, in fact, that Mingjue laughs at him, hides it in Meng Yao’s shoulder, and seems to need no further excuse to just set up camp there so he can start nuzzling the tip of his nose into the crook of Meng Yao’s neck until he’s shivering pleasantly and feeling very much like the cat that got the cream.

Huaisang was right — this has never happened to him in New York, but he’s perfectly happy that it’s happening to him now.

–//–

Nie Huaisang isn’t the type to say ‘I told you so’ in so many words, mostly because he doesn’t actually say what he’s really thinking in the first place.

But if he were the type, he’d be saying it right now to anyone who would listen as he sips at a beer some jumped-up bull rider pressed into his hand with enough flustered used-to-be-definitely-absolutely-straight-but-now-he’s-confused flirting that Huaisang had given him an extra kiss or three to apologize for giving him a little sexuality crisis.

Maybe it’s weird for him to be so pleased to see his brother and his brother’s live-in-something tag teaming Huaisang’s own best friend, but, well. Meng Yao works way too hard for very little in return, and Huaisang thinks he deserves nice things. He’s certainly not immune to the ample charms of his brother’s farmer/rancher neighbors at least for a hazy summer, and he’d known that Meng Yao wouldn’t be able to resist either no matter how many fuck-off-I’m-totally-independent vibes he gives off when they’re back home.

Naturally if Meng Yao weren’t interested in sex Huaisang would leave him alone about it, but since he’s not he’d known perfectly well that there would be no resisting not one but two handsome men who could throw him over their shoulders as easily as they do bales of hay or sheep that need shearing. So, to that effect — the scene in front of him. Huaisang watches just long enough to see Xichen turn Meng Yao’s face to his with a gentle finger under his chin to coax him in for a kiss where they’re snuggled up all three together on the couch and then makes his escape to find his own fun for the night.

It’s already looking like it’s going to be quite the summer, and Huaisang basks in the pleasure of a plan well-executed with no one the wiser.

[coralsnake]

Wowie been QUITE SOME TIME. I clearly haven’t been active here much, or really active anywhere much lately. I don’t wanna bore you guys with a lengthy post I forgot how to hide it or read more LOL xD I’ll summarize I guess.

Went to SWCA earlier this year where I barely got my Omega cosplay cobbled together enough to take her to Batuu and Anaheim. Struggling to find motivation to finish art, cosplay, and designs for my little hobby shop, CoralSnakeGoods. Been paying my debt off from swc a LOT slower than I mean to and have basically been lurking everywhere because I don’t feel worthy to talk to people most of the time since I haven’t really done much in the last 3 years but sketch silly Western AU art and buy fabric still waiting for me to turn it into something lovely. It’s been so hard guys. I feel really alone in the struggle as I see everyone traveling with no issues, pumping out 3-5 new cosplays every con and finishing art near every day or once a week at the least. I’m trying though! Little by little I’m putting things back in place and feeling a little more like me maybe. Anyways. Have this cute pic of my Omega in Batuu during Star Wars Night with this epic dessert xD I’ll do my best to start sharing art and sketches even if I’m the only one looking. I’m still on Instagram and Twitter! But I can’t say I’ve been very active. XD

[thecoziestbean]

5 Songs

🎶✨When you get this, list 5 songs you actually listen to. Then, send this ask/tag to 10 of your favorite followers 🎶✨

I love talking music, so thanks for the tag @rebelrebelwrites !

I make playlists for EVERYTHING, so naturally I have one for every WIP and every potential WIP. Here are 5 songs that have been on heavy rotation lately that specifically relate to Haladriel/Saurondriel projects. This got really verbose... I just really love talking about music!

If you follow me on the bird app (if you don't you can @ cozy_ships) you might have seen me post some prompt fills related to a story I'm working on for Haladriel Week. It's a Prairie Gothic AU with a Tevildo as Black Phillip thing going on. Oh and there's a sexy farmhand Halbrand. The working title is Meet Me at the Edge, which is a lyric taken from "The Beast" by Delta Rae.

"Meet me at the edge, I ain't afraid, Lord I've already fallen, See the beast sitting on the ridge, No time to waste, Let him know that we're coming."

The Venus of Valinor is my main WIP right now. It's a multi-chap art heist AU with a lot of screwball comedy that was inspired by the film How to Steal a Million (1966) with Audrey Hepburn and Peter O'Toole. It's hard to pick one song for it because there are so many that vibe with Hal and Gal's moods at various points in the story, but "Secret Heart" by Feist feels very on the nose overall. Both our leads have lots of secrets. And it's a song that I never tire of.

"This very secret, That you're trying to conceal, Is the very same one, That you're dying to reveal."

Mirah is one of my all-time favorite musicians, and "Gold Rush" is probably my favorite song by her (the name of my tumblr comes from this song). It also gives me major Haladriel vibes. It's on all my fic playlists.

"Oh love when I get lonesome, I'm gonna call you up into my world, When waters rise up I do my best, To keep my home floating upon your chest."

This is one of the most Haladriel coded songs in my rotation. Also one that's always been deeply personal to me, even pre-TROP. It figures prominently in the playlist for a Western AU I've been working on for a while (I've shared a few snippets of this one via prompt fills on the bird app as well). Not sure when this one will make an appearance, maybe Haladriel Week, but this one is a heavier lift for me, so no promises.

"I walk with others in me yearning to get out, Claw at my skin and gnash their teeth and shout, One of them wants only to be someone you'd admire, One would as soon just throw you on the fire."

The first thing I started writing was/is a Music AU. It’s heavily rooted in the late 1980s/early-mid-1990s punk & grunge scenes, as well as being loosely inspired by the film Whiplash (2014). The whole thing started from the idea of Finrod & Sauron’s epic song battle reframed as two kids from rival grunge bands, and Sauron somehow being responsible for Fin od’ing (think Finrod as Kurt Cobain). There’s also a whole thing with flashbacks where first Mairon, and then a young Galadriel were drumming students of the brilliant but unforgiving Aulë, and then in the future-present Sauron’s trying to live a quiet non-musical life but then music exec Galadriel “discovers” him and drags him kicking & screaming back into the life. I’ve got a little written, but have no idea if it’ll ever see the light of day, although I seem to have outlined it here so… 🤷🏻‍♀️

Siouxsie & the Banshees are a little earlier than the time period this fic is inspired by, but they’re influential to a lot of the other acts that are prominent in it, and I see them as being one of Galadriel’s faves in the story (also one of my faves). And the drumming on “Into the Light” is 🔥🔥🔥.

“Standing in the light, I never wanted to be right, Now I’m attracted by the light, And I’m blinded by the sight.”

Tagging (zero pressure, I'm sure many of you have already been tagged): @justatinycollector @ophidion @demonscantgothere @hazelmaines @jhalya

[snidgetwidgeon]

Son of Hylia, Daughter of Farore

A roleswap Zelink AU

Art by @anxioussailorsoldier and used here with permission

This story is a one-shot inspired by the prompts from @drsteggy and was gifted to her in a fic exchange.

~~~

Link awoke suddenly, desperately trying to cling to the vision of a woman surrounded by bright light as it diminished from his foggy mind. Try as he might to enter back into the haze of his mysterious dream, sounds came louder and clearer to his ears, and he registered the rustle of the sheets sliding against his feet as he stretched, his senses slowly returning. Today would be a trying affair. He always remained fatigued after she appeared to him, ever speaking yet rendered frustratingly silent.

Perhaps he could try to lay low, hide in the library, and search yet again on the shelves he’d already scoured for something he may have missed; something to prove it was possible that he was having the visions vessels were known to have had. He just couldn’t interpret them. He spared a bittersweet thought for his late mother. She would have known, would have shown him. Or perhaps she would have bore a daughter, and there would be no question; and he could have supported his sister when they found out the Calamity was foretold to return.

But the Kingdom of Hyrule was left with a Prince at the precipice of doom. He’d never felt more useless, or more determined to do something about it. He would find a way. He would protect everyone.

Zelda shifted her feet, practicing her forms to warm up before training. She missed her scimitar. This new blade felt so different and she had to relearn how to make it an extension of herself. It was humbling when sparring partners she had previously bested came out on top. It just proved she still had much to learn and needed to become proficient with many weapon types if she wanted to be the greatest.

She recalled being a bit intimidated as her group of friends grew over the years. Where they used to be physical equals, they now towered above her; but she supposed she could be thankful for the challenge because it caused her to become an incredibly scrappy fighter, always looking for openings she could wheedle into.

This time she wheedled too far and forgot to watch her flank while in pursuit of one of her opponents. Another warrior swept in and bashed her ribs as she was on an upswing and it sent her flying. As she was pulled up, she couldn’t help but think spitefully that the same would not have happened if she were allowed her weapon of choice. She could have recovered with her scimitar but the swing on the Master Sword was different.

“Nice air you caught there,” her sparring partner teased in Gerudo. “Again?”

Zelda recovered her blade from a few paces away and declined, “I think I’ll just nurse my wounds and ego for awhile, thanks.”

“Suit yourself. I recommend you do solitary for a few days with your new acquaintance,” she pointed her chin towards the Master Sword in Zelda’s grip. “See if you two can make friends,” she winked and ran back to join the fray.

Zelda stared down at the sword with slight contempt. Urbosa had told her of the legends she’d learned from the late Queen of Hyrule, and her son, Prince Link- that the sword was wielded to protect Hylia, and how the blade itself chose its master and would even communicate. Someone being chosen meant that a shit storm was likely brewing.

Urbosa also mentioned that preparations were being made against some sort of Calamity. The word made Zelda’s blood run cold and she knew it was something to be feared. If the sword was not speaking to her, perhaps it chose wrong and she was not suited to the challenge. She had tried everything she could think of, even hours of meditation, which she hated because she didn’t like sitting still for long.

But it was all for naught.

She wove her way through the stalls and bustle of the marketplace, sword heavy on her back, and day after day it had only served to weigh her down even more. She could no longer stand it. She exited the north-western gates and ran along the outer wall. Heart pounding and sweating all over, she dug a rather shallow and pathetic hole, chucked the sword in and kicked sand over it before walking away in a huff, muttering, “Curse the day I found your infuriating silence!”

She’d been training in the desert when she discovered it, exploring further than she ever had over the dunes. Following the statues with their guiding swords, she finally came upon the last one and sheltered under her cloak at its base as a sandstorm passed. Thankfully, it was short and as she stood to shake as much sand as she could off her person, she noticed something strange in the distance. She could have sworn she’d reached the last statue of the warriors. Perhaps she’d miscounted as there stood another on the horizon, the reflection of its sword glinting brightly in its grasp.

Zelda took a drink from her ration, taking note of how much was left before deciding she could manage one more. If anything, it would improve her survival skills.

As she neared the solid figure rising out of the sands she noticed that the sword it held was elaborate. Oddly enough, a scabbard for it was slung over the shoulder which made it appear that someone had just left it there. She looked around but only saw a few cacti bearing voltfruits, perfect for carrying around extra moisture for the return trip. Some movement caught her eye behind a cactus and she ran over, pulling her scimitar, in case there was meat to be had, but she was met with a poof of sparkling petals and could have sworn she heard a childish giggle.

After investigating thoroughly, she cut the fruits and placed them into her bag before returning to the statue. It would be a shame to leave such a fine piece of work out in the middle of nowhere. She climbed the figure and slipped the scabbard off the shoulder, letting it fall to the sand before holding the neck and planting her feet against the torso so she could reach the hilt with her free hand. It did not budge. Hiking herself up, she wrapped her legs around the neck so she could use both hands to pull on the wings above the hilt.

She was straining when she heard the laugh again, accompanied by a rattle, and in her distraction, the blade suddenly came loose and they both tumbled into the sand.

She’d thought nothing of it until returning to Gerudo Town.

During a routine visit to the throne room, Chief Urbosa had nearly sent away visiting dignitaries when she spied the sword on Zelda’s back. After the meeting, Urbosa called her into her private quarters, which was very unusual. Perhaps she was to be given a special assignment.

“Where did you find that sword?” Urbosa asked with intense interest and a hint of concern.

Zelda stood at attention and replied concisely, “In the desert, Chief.”

“Zelda, have you any idea what you’ve found?”

Zelda began to doubt her decision to play finders keepers. Maybe it was a ceremonial sword or relic that should have stayed where it was. Though she had been raised with the Gerudo, she certainly did not purport to know all of their culture and was horrified by the idea that she’d deeply offended them.

~~~

Urbosa removed her bracelets and hair ornaments, letting the thick, red locks fall down her back. Making sure her tea would be in reach, she snuggled into her bed and opened a letter from her favorite Hylian. She always saved his letters for the end of the day when her attention could be undivided and she could imagine actually having a conversation with him. He was so bright and inquisitive, and optimistic- as his letter revealed. Just like her love.

~I have not given up my search. I keep thinking that surely, there is a pocket in the library I have not scoured. But then another duty and another day takes me away from it. I see her, Urbosa. It has to mean something. If only I could find evidence that there has been a son of Hylia. Why else would I be given visions? If only I could interpret them...

Do you know how mother did it? Did she ever say anything?~

He then went on to describe his involvement with the funding of the research at the Royal Ancient Lab as well as other gossip that he and Urbosa kept up on, including their inside jokes about stuffy nobles. He also wanted to hear more about the warrior who had pulled the Master Sword.

~Does the bearer of the Blade that Seals the Darkness fare well? The moment I learned of her, I hoped that it was a sliver of evidence to prove my case. If there is a woman as Farore’s chosen, then perhaps it lends weight to the fact that a man could be Nayru’s chosen. But I’m harping. Perhaps I will be able to meet her soon, though father keeps me tied up in social engagements. He has taken to parading me at events where there are ample amounts of young debutantes to vie for my attention. I’d much rather be studying.~

Urbosa wrote back early the next morning after skimming the letter again.

~It seems our chosen Hero is having trouble awakening the power within the blade. When you sent word of legends that say the sword speaks to a worthy master, she immediately felt inadequate. Zelda excels at any challenge and eventually overcomes all obstacles, so when she continually failed to connect with the sword’s spirit, she took out her frustrations in a childish manner. The other day she was witnessed burying it in the sand outside the town walls. She must have blown off all her steam because she did retrieve it later that night.

I think that learning her fate has been weighing on her. She puts on a stoic face but I can see she has reservations. Perhaps if you two came together, something will give?~

After reading Urbosa’s reply, Link laid the parchment back down on his desk and pondered her proposition. He had been wanting to expand his search outside the castle for sometime and though he enjoyed visiting the Royal Lab, it did not hold any answers for what he sought; they were just a bunch of rowdy mechanics who were a lot of fun to hang around with. But to understand his history and role, he wanted to go on a pilgrimage to the known spiritual sites of Hyrule, and perhaps discover unknown ones as well so he could be better informed on how to defeat the Calamity, and possibly awaken the power of Hylia along the way.

He would start making arrangements right away.

~~~

King Rhoam rapped his knuckles on the door of his son’s study. When Link answered with a curt nod and a polite greeting, he entered, leaving his guard detail outside. He thought it prudent to retain at least some privacy for this matter, considering the gossip it could generate.

“I hear you’re planning some sort of trip,” it came out as a statement more than a question.

“A pilgrimage. To try and find any proof of my suspicions-”

He was interrupted by his father’s large, dissatisfied sigh. “Link, you really must stop harping on about that nonsense. Hylia has only ever been reincarnated into the mortal body of a female, that’s just the way it is. A tradition that extends even far beyond what we have in written history.”

“Exactly. We don’t know everything. How do you explain my visions? Mother had them. She knew how to interpret them.”

“Perhaps they’re just dreams,” Rhoam offered again in a misguided attempt to engage.

Link smacked the book he was about to pack on the table in frustration. “I can’t believe you keep saying that, you just don’t understand.”

“What I understand is that you continue to foolishly insist on chasing dreams and fantasies rather than doing something tangible for your people. You’re wasting time, Link. You should be courting and choosing a wife so that you can pass on the bloodline to a potential Princess who will-” Rhoam saw the shock in his boy’s face and tried to change track, “We have no idea when the Calamity will strike, we should be doing everything we can to prevent disaster.”

Link clenched his jaw as a deep anger and loathing swelled in his breast. Voice trembling in rage, he rebutted, “I am not going to produce an heir just to send her to the slaughter. I will fight my own battles. This Calamity is coming down on us! I just need to figure out how to awaken Hylia’s power.” He grabbed his bag and stormed out before Rhoam could push his agenda further.

~~~

The next letter Urbosa received from Link outlined his travels. She grinned as she read through them, glad that he’d managed to get away.

~The Forgotten Temple was very difficult to access, and though it did not produce any results, it was a breath taking trip. It has the largest Goddess Statue I have ever seen and I felt a peculiar familiarity while standing under her benevolent smile. I think this is promising.

We’re now at the ruins of the Temple of Time on the Great Plateau. I’m no stranger to the place of course, but the Priestess has been most helpful in providing old texts to study that were not available at the Castle. She’s even offered to assign a scribe to make copies for me.

I hope to be underway again soon and I would like to visit the Seven Heroines. I want to leave no stone unturned. I shall send a dispatch for when we expect to be arriving in the desert.~

When the time came, Urbosa bid Zelda to be an escort for the Prince across the sands to Gerudo Town. “Listen carefully, Zelda. Being the Prince is more than reason enough to keep him safe, but there may be a chance that he is so much more. The fact that you wield that sword lends weight to his theory that he may be Hylia reborn.”

Zelda’s eyes widened but she remained silent, nodding dutifully.

“I’ll need you to deliver some supplies to him so that he may enter unmolested upon arrival.”

“Chief?” Zelda asked, uncertain about the order. Hylia possibly being in a boy she could handle, but in all her time there, she’d never heard of a voe entering Gerudo Town. For Urbosa to speak of it almost as if it were done every other day was- confusing, to say the least.

Urbosa raised her brow at the question. “He is my Oten’vehvi and knows how to behave within these walls. You need not concern yourself with the politics, just act as his personal guard.”

“Yes, Chief.”

She made her preparations and checked that all was secure with the ‘contraband.’ The idea of meeting the Prince was troubling to say the least. She felt completely inadequate, bearing a sword that considered her unworthy. Perhaps she could pass it onto him and he could find the most courageous person in Hyrule. With his resources she was sure it wouldn’t be that hard. Then again, legendary swords weren’t known for choosing incorrect Heroes, so what was wrong with her?

They would just have to work together somehow.

She rode most of the way at a leisurely pace behind her sand seal until she noticed a scuffle as she neared Kara Kara. “HUP!” she directed her seal to go a bit faster to investigate.

A couple of Hylian vai shrieked when they saw her. “The Prince! Please save our Prince!” they cried as they pointed west.

There were two Yiga chasing after a nimble blond clad in light blue. She sprung after them, tongue rolling in a call to let her mount know they needed to go as fast as if they were fleeing a molduga.

The Prince was doing well for himself until he fell, a prey disposition coming over him. He scooted back but could only stare at the assassins, frozen in fear.

Zelda used her inertia to whip across the sand and jumped to land between the Prince and his attackers. She drew her sword, imbued with courage and confident that she could easily protect the boy against the likes of this desert rabble. She almost become distracted by the sword’s sudden glow before exchanging blows with the masked Yiga. They soon realized they were no match for her and dispersed in pops of red and orange light, laughter echoing in their place.

Breathing heavily, she turned back to face the Prince who was still flat on his bum. They both ogled the glowing sword.

An ethereal, disembodied voice broke the silence, “Master, it is good to see you again.”

Their eyes snapped to each other and searched for understanding. There was an immediate and unmistakable bond between them. They’d both heard it.

“I see...” Zelda began. She glared down at the Master Sword, fist clenching the handle and shaking with anger. “So you only deign to speak when your charge is present?” Her voice rose, “I wasn’t good enough for you?! You picky piece of shit!” she yelled as she hurled the sword into the dunes.

Link gaped in disbelief that his protector was so uncouth when something profound occurred to him. He fell back into the sand laughing, a massive wave of relief washing over him.

She looked at him curiously. “What? What is it?”

His laughter died down and he gazed into the sky, moisture glistening in the corner of his eye. “She’s with me.”

Zelda’s eyebrows knitted in confusion, unaware of the turmoil he had experienced regarding his identity.

Link stood and brushed himself off then held out his hand in greeting. “You must be Zelda. Bearer of the Blade that seals the Darkness.”

She accepted his shake and added spitefully, “More like the blade that won’t open its trap unless its mommy is around.”

“You know, I find it very intriguing, my mother’s name was also Zelda.”

“Yes, my mother was a big fan. It’s kind of flattering, she was a great lady. But people always joke that I’m the lost, secret princess and other nonsense.” She started to move away but he touched her arm and she paused.

“Thank you- for saving my life; but also for revealing the truth. Now that I know she’s here,” he touched his heart, “I will find her.”

Zelda eyed him like a strange bug, still unsure as to what he was on about. She patted his shoulder as she walked over to retrieve her weapon, “Good luck with that.”

~~~

A few nights later, Link and Urbosa took a stroll just outside of town to enjoy each other’s company, catching up on their daily lives. The stars twinkled brightly and the moon shone pale on the dunes, a steady breeze drifting the sands away to the dark horizon. He’d just intimated what his father would have him do to stay the coming Calamity.

She touched his shoulder in support, “And what did you say?”

“That this was our battle. And I would absolutely not have a child just to-” he sighed deeply. “I mean, I know the legends. There will always be a vessel of Hylia and her chosen Hero, but to be so deliberate and unfeeling about it, I just...”

“It’s alright. Your father has always been rather blunt, and practical to a fault. For what it’s worth, I believe in you. The visions you describe sound very similar to what your mother shared with me.”

He looked up to her with a smile, “It’s worth a lot, you’re my Oten’baba; your opinion matters to me more than anyone else.”

They continued on for a short time in companionable silence when Urbosa stopped and lifted her head to the night, listening and placing a hand on her scimitar.

“What is it?” Link asked, only noticing after he’d taken a few steps ahead.

A raucous laughter cut across the desert and as quick as Urbosa had been to draw her blade and prepare a snap of deadly electricity over her foes, two of them grabbed the Prince and held their sickles to his neck causing her to stay her hand.

“What a lovely package we have here tonight. Not only can we bag the boy, we can finally rid ourselves of the thorn in our side, Gerudo Tempest!” a Yiga foot soldier, hidden amongst the rest, spat the last two words out in disgust.

They attacked and dozens fell upon the Chief, running head on and popping up behind. A dance of blades began and Link struggled to free himself. Urbosa tried to lead her foes away but Link’s captors followed, dragging his feet through the sand.

“You’ll not be using your lightning with the precious Prince so close, will you?” gloated the same antagonizing voice.

Link cried out in terror when he saw a Yiga succeed in cutting her arm. She seethed and decked them right across the jaw. When they fell she jumped onto their back and launched herself in the air so she could shoot off a bolt.

“Oh, no! Is the Tempest in distress?” the voice goaded, and the masks cackled.

Link couldn’t tell where the mocking was coming from, they were everywhere and nowhere at once. There were too many. Urbosa was becoming overwhelmed and aid may not arrive in time- a gash landed on her leg- he was going to lose her. The laughing was getting louder, the air becoming so thick with magic that it tasted like chalk on his tongue- a slice was delivered up her back and she cried out. He squeezed his eyes shut and thought of his mother. What would she do? There hadn’t been anything he could do for her then, but he was here now for his living mother.

Link’s eyes shot open just in time to see Urbosa drowning under the onslaught and his insides fell into oblivion. They were replaced by a warmth that spread through his body and beyond. He jerked his head in confusion as those that held him fell away. He was free. Sparks akin to those he felt when he fell asleep on his hand in the library spread through his fingers and he launched himself into the foray. He clawed through Yiga soldiers to get to her and did not see how each one he yanked was thrown back with a force of golden energy.

“Urbosa! URBOSA!?” They hit the ground.

The desert was lit with a false sunrise as Link crushed Urbosa in a desperate embrace. The light washed over her, healing her wounds as it cascaded around them in a dome, their enemies lying motionless on the outside.

After a few stunned moments, they opened their eyes and picked each other up. Urbosa held his face in her hands and wiped his tears. “Just look at you,” she said, smiling proudly.

“I- I couldn’t. I was,” he stumbled over his words as more tears fell, “I was going to lose you. I couldn’t lose you too,” he cried into her chest and she held him close.

~~~

Link was a natural at seal surfing. That’s what Zelda thought before she realized that he must have actually visited Gerudo Town previously and she just didn’t know it. They had left at sunrise and arrived to their destination mid morning. After taking a much needed rest, re-hydrating and snacking, Link took a leisurely walk around the place to get his bearings while Zelda tended to the sand seals. She joined him after they were settled for a long siesta and the two of them began their research of the Seven Heroines in interest.

There were orbs scattered about the place. Very large, Link noticed. He pushed one with his foot. And heavy. The sand seals might have to work after all. He tasked Zelda with collecting any she could find and in the meantime he studied the statues, picking up rather quickly that some had prominent corresponding symbols to the orbs on various parts of their bodies. Some he couldn’t make out as they were too high so there would be some educated guesses by process of elimination.

Zelda couldn’t help being drawn into his enthusiasm, the way he took notes- the face he made when he took those notes; it was all very quaint, and a bit impressive. Having spent most of her time advancing physically, she appreciated the mental gymnastics they were doing. Where most might sit back defeated, Link pushed through with a calm determination. They tried dropping the orbs in the pedestals in numerous combinations, each with a sound theory behind them. How was Link to know that if shrines had been activated, he would have succeeded in getting a result on the first try? A fact that they both wouldn’t learn for another 103-odd years.

After the sun set, Link scrawled until the dimming light rendered the page unreadable. Zelda had already set about making camp. They could head back to town in the morning, both were knackered. Even with the help of the seals, they’d heaved plenty of orbs around for hours. Eventually he plopped down on the rug with her and heaved a big sigh.

“Wow, you been working all day or something?” she asked in jest as she turned the vegetables in the fire.

“Yeah, something like that. It’s been a long while since I’ve been out in the field.”

She regarded him thoughtfully. “What’s it like up at the castle?”

“Stuffy.”

She chuckled and didn’t press but it wouldn’t be fair to leave it at that. For all its faults, it deserved more. “I loved exploring the halls as a boy. I’m fairly certain I found long lost passages even the castle historian didn’t know about. My favorite places are the Library and the Observatory. “

“Sounds about right,” Zelda smirked.

“Ha ha. But really, the Library has books as far as you can see, you’d never finish them in one lifetime. And my mother used to take me to the Observatory. I still go there to feel close to her.”

They sat in silence for a moment when Zelda touched his forearm. “I’m sorry you lost her.”

Link nodded in thanks and Zelda started to collect the hearty truffles from the coals. “I lost my father,” she began, and Link was a bit surprised she was sharing.

“He was a knight. We didn’t have any other family close by and mom didn’t fancy moving to Tabantha Village. She hates the cold,” Zelda added as she passed Link a stick laden with dinner.

“Thanks. So she just came to the desert instead?” Link asked before blowing generously and taking a bite.

“She had a close friend here who is practically my auntie. I think she was hoping we could just get away and start fresh from everything we knew before. But then I had to take after dad. Took her a while and a lot of arguments to come to terms with the fact that I was also a warrior.” She shook her head. “I feel bad. I’ve put her in a constant fear of losing me too but... you have to do what your soul tells you, right?”

Link closed his eyes and thought of Hylia, feeling a vibration in his core. “Right.” He agreed thoughtfully.

“Anyway, then this happened,” she said, unsheathing the sword on her back a few inches and letting fall back in with a shinck. “That was not a fun conversation.”

“I can imagine,” Link commiserated as he thought of his own recent rows with his father.

Zelda took a bite of her own truffle and regarded him up and down. With no tact for manners, she said with a full mouth, “You’re alrigh’ fo’ a Pince.”

Link laughed and his genuine mirth spread warmth through Zelda’s chest. “And you’re alright for a Hero.”

[accio-victuuri]

Hi can you provide the link to read manhuas you prefer?

Hello Anon! OMG Manhua/Manhwa Rec! Here we go! I’ve only been reading for 2-3 months (consistently), so this will be pretty limited. I will link to the legit sites. A google search will direct you to others.

Most of these are WIPs and some, sadly, are discontinued. I won’t add TGCF or MDZS here cause those are already a given. 👇🏼

• Body Electric by Dong Ye ( completed, supernatural, lots of trigger warnings and plotty )

Ba Song is the hotshot cop who’s been handed an open-and-shut case: the suicide of a young woman. Except… who commits suicide by stabbing their own body and strangling themself? There's only one man who can help him with this mystery — Bo Shan, the renowned forensic pathologist with a severe and cold personality. What's more, his body produces bioelectricity, allowing him to acutely sense bodily injury with his touch. There's an electric current between them, and each touch sizzles with energy

If you like crime dramas and stories where they solve mysterious cases then this is for you. The romance is subtle, and their relationship is not insta-love. strangers to colleagues to friends to lovers trope. This also discusses alot of issues the society has that will make you stop and think. Ba Song is really the honorable MC in here who always wants to help people and do good. While Bo Shan is the reluctant one but deep inside, he wants to make a difference too. I wish they would make a donghua or live action out of this.

• 30 year old by S-Monkey - ( ongoing, age difference, blind dates, slice of life)

Charlie Wei is a single and handsome executive. He’s also a closeted gay guy who’s been on way too many bad blind dates with women. Charlie’s still hung up on his ex-boyfriend James and is… gasp, 30! Charlie’s family thinks he’s straight and too old to be without a wife! During another bad blind date, Charlie meets the flirty Ethan, who both annoys and intrigues him. Can Charlie finally come out and find true love with Ethan or will he continue on his streak of bad blind dates?

The cover looks melodramatic but it’s really not. This is so funny! I read this because people were saying it reminded them of BoXiao. And yes, there are moments here that remind me of them, but it’s more like an AU of BoXiao. I stayed up late trying to get caught up in the chapters and you won’t realize it cause it’s just that good. I love seeing the older MC loosening up and being more of himself. and the younger one being more responsible in his career. They just become better versions of themselves because of each other. It’s so sweet!

• I ship me and my Rival - by Pepa ( ongoing, comedy, reads like a meta )

This follows the adventures of Wei Yanzi, a third-rate actor in the Chinese entertainment industry, stumbles onto a shipping fandom for himself and another actor (Gu Yiliang) while trying to escape from the flame wars and negativity. He's so taken with this group of fans who actually see him as a good guy instead of an enemy/rival of Gu Yiliang that he falls head-first into fandom and becomes actively involved in trying to provide shipping fuel and the fans' daily dose of fluff.

IF THERE IS ONE thing you will read here, let it be this. It is hilarious. If you are a CP fan you will relate so much and it’s a good time. It just shows how people who think are rivals can actually be really good friends in real life. What we see is not always what it seems. and people will interpret things based on their bias. The MC here is so dramatic! how his inner feelings/reactions were drawn will make you laugh.

• Path to You - by Sinran (completed, slice of life, age gap fluff and comedy )

When almost college dropout Jensen attempts to drink away his problems, unemployed Nathaniel suddenly pukes on him and ruins his night. As an apology, Nathaniel offers to help Jensen with his studies. Despite Jensen's difficulties in getting along with people, the two become friends and something deeper begins to grow between them

The story is so soft. If you want something with mild angst/misunderstandings— then pick this. I love the progression of their relationship and how they take care of each other. There are other themes showed here other than the romance.

• Red Candy - by Hanse (completed season one with a cliffhanger, explicit scenes, assassins )

Shihyeon, aka “Red Candy,” is a secret agent whose code name comes from bathing in the blood of his marks on dangerous missions. Shihyeon’s tasked with seducing and obtaining intel from Hajun, a hot college professor. Shihyeon can disarm enemies, but didn’t expect to be disarmed himself by Hajun’s own tight body. Now Shihyeon’s caught between loyalty to his spy agency and Hajun. Can Red Candy survive the incoming wave of enemies and still indulge in the sweet ecstasy of Hajun’s embrace?

THIS STRESSED ME OUT MAAAN. Wow. I loved this. That season one cliffhanger. It’s definitely up there as my favorite. If you think about it, the tropes are really not original. An assassin is sent to shadow a person and they develop a relationship. That simple. But NOOOOO! There are so many things going on. The Main mystery plot, Their relationship, their shared past plus you have other sketchy secondary characters. And did i mention explicit scenes? Lots of them. I want this two to have a happy ending!!!

• Lone Swan - by Chu Man (discontinued, cultivation, star crossed lovers)

After losing his memory, Yiqiu Shen, a disciple from the decent sect meets a very special man named Luofeng Yan, who is the leader of the evil Divine Wind Cult. When escaping and conflicting with Yan, Shen gradually finds his original self as well as his previous love back. Together they rip off the facade of the martial world and reveal the hidden true

I didn’t want to add a discontinued story here, with no novel as a source material but this one made an impact on me. so. yeah. THE ART. breathtaking. The plot = layered. There are times I don’t even know who is telling the truth. It had so much potential and i hope it will get picked up again at some point. People rec this to those who enjoyed TGCF and MDZS, and they are right. 👍🏼

• Dragon in Distress by Si Wang Wen Hua - ( ongoing, dragons, past life, lost power, fantasy )

This is a story about a little Eastern green dragon and a little Western black dragon playing together.

The synopsis is pretty simple if you look at it but this one is pretty interesting. and surprisingly funny. tinie AoAo is so cute! 🤍 the other MC has tsundere tendencies tho. Lots of lore and more truths to uncover as the story progresses. I’m not giving it enough justice with how i’m reccing it, but if you like dragons and fantasy — give this a go.

• Breaking through the clouds 2: Swallow the Sea - Huaishang (ongoing, based on a novel, crime, drama, cases)

Wu Yu, a newcomer of the Public Security Bureau, is gentle and frail. He doesn’t care about the difficulties posed by Bu ZhongHua, his strict boss, and only wants to stay in the background to be paid on time with enough for food. However, no one knows that this young man’s head is targeted by top drug traffickers for a large bounty or that this courageous young man has once slaughtered the dragon of the abyss. With a chain of interlocking cases, a series of troubles come one after another. Can the two people work together to survive through the difficulties?

Do you see a pattern with me? lol. I like crime themes. This one is the same and by the looks of it, the cases they solve will take longer to unravel. I haven’t read the novel it’s based on yet so i’m just going with how the manhua is progressing. I like it when Wu Yu turns full on action-mode and when ZH takes care of him. Plus it helps that they are both gorgeous. I’ll get back this with a proper link.

• Where the Wind Stays - by Yusa (completed season one, curses, demons, possession, timeskip, explicit scenes)

To break an ancient curse that plagues the royal bloodline, young Prince Tasara is destined to be sacrificed in death. Nara is enlisted as a palace servant to carry out the prince’s execution when the time comes. But he develops a soft spot for the cursed prince, and after committing an atrocious and unforgivable act against Tasara, Nara is desperate to right his wrongs. Soon, their lascivious relationship that had been kept under wraps tests his resolve. Will Nara be tempted away from his original mission? There’s no telling how far he would go to earn Tasara’s forgiveness.

This story broke my brain, in a good way. I don’t wanna say much cause it will spoil the story. It’s the type that you gave to see and suffer through yourself. I am excited for what happens in season II!!!

Honorable Mentions:

I’m placing these here cause I have only read a few chapters and tho I liked them, I wanna read more before reccing it in full. 👍🏼

• I accidentally saved the Jinghu’s enemy

• Global Examination

• Monster entertainment

• Demon Apartment

And that’s it! Hope enjoy Anon! 😊

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Moppet!Douxie x GN!Reader, Soulmate AU | Hurt/Comfort, Fluff

Warnings: Fire/Explosion, lots of crying, self esteem issues, misunderstandings cause a lot of emotional turmoil

Note: This is my first fic! I know fics have it worse than art, but if you'd consider leaving tips in the comments, I'd be super grateful! Thanks for taking a look!

It was springtime in Camelot, near the turn of the season. The sun was high, the birds were singing, and you... were late. As a magic user, your life was in constant jeopardy regardless of your employment as the Crowmaster, Crowlord Corbin’s apprentice, penning and sending letters for the kingdom. And in this kingdom, tardiness was not appreciated. Racing through the castle halls with the king’s letters in hand, you noticed movement on your forearms.

“I wonder what color their eyes are. I bet they’re lovely.”

Your lips curled in a tender smile at the curling words that appeared on your skin. Similar musings crossed your soulmate’s mind daily, not leaving your body free of the enigmatic “ink” for years.

No one, not even the renowned Merlin Ambrosius, knew the precise nature of the words that would mark people’s skin, only that they were your soulmate’s thoughts about you. Soulmates were a fickle thing, their connections varying with different cultural beliefs and changing as countries developed. In England, the written words made finding your soulmate a tad difficult as one couldn’t know if their other half was paying any mind when they tried to share personal details. It was said that once you know them wholly, you’re complete in all things. Whatever that means.

You’d once been impatient to meet your own, to know what it means to be complete, but after years of black markings coming and going, covering your body in kind words of admiration, you deemed them worth the wait.

You were shocked from your reverie in a flutter of parchment. You’d bumped into someone, the king’s letters falling to the ground right into… was that slorr juice? You didn’t even apologize to the raven-haired young man whose spell material you’d just gotten all over the floor. You were far too panicked.  Knowing your animal magic was of no help here, you scrambled to salvage what you could.

Hisirdoux was in trouble. Merlin would have his head when he told him he lost the slorr juice to another bout of soulmate pondering, and have it again when he discovered that said juice is the reason the king didn’t receive his news regarding the upcoming royal summit. Douxie leaned forward to help but instead opted to frantically search his brace for anything that could help the poor apprentice in front of him.

When he’d finally found the rune, the Crowmaster had just finished shaking off what liquid they could from the sensitive documents. He quickly dried them hoping to save the ink on them as best he could, long fingers flitting over each. In a hurried frenzy of apologies and farewells, the hallway was emptied.

Merlin was less than pleased, and frankly, a little concerned. Douxie usually gets so cautious after a mistake that even Merlin feels his stress, but this was the third time this week. Why was he so focused on his soulmate? After a right scolding, Douxie retired to his room to study. Merlin nearly did a double-take at what was written on his young apprentice’s neck.

“He was quite kind.”

So they’d met. Did his soulmate know? Did Douxie know?

Over the next few weeks, you two kept running into one another. A passing here, an acknowledgment there. After about a month you’d come to look forward to seeing the boy trip over himself en route to Merlin’s study. You helped him carry supplies when the Crowlord was away and talked when he dropped off Merlin’s letters to the court magicians across England. For some reason, you found yourself hanging on his every word and smiling whenever you caught a glimpse of his adorable manbun weaving through the streets.

He felt the same. It was never enough to speak to you in passing and he even left long conversations with you feeling wanting. He doesn’t quite remember how he started, but it’d become a habit to watch you work through the large western tower window. He’d admire your tenderness with the crows and was warmed by your bond with your hawk familiar. 

As you left the tower to retire for the night, he always thought you might be cold, but never gathered the courage to walk you to your chambers.

Douxie was concerned. The day was halfway through, winter clouds covering the high sun, and you were nowhere to be seen. He’d watched you enter the western tower at dawn and the candlelight hadn’t been extinguished once. He was principally done with Merlin’s tasks for the day, perhaps he could pop his head in? “just for a minute,” he decided. 

He exited his chambers (Merlin’s storage closet) and rapped a knuckle on his master’s desk, pulling his attention from some blueprints. Merlin didn’t speak, just gave an expectant look.

Douxie ran a near-trembling hand through his tied black hair before cautiously speaking up. “Master, may I have the rest of the day off?”

“Whatever brought this on? After the way you’ve been acting these past months?”

Douxie averted his gaze, suddenly finding his shoes far more interesting. “I’d… I’d like to see someone today.”

After a beat, the master wizard quickly scribbled something down on a piece of parchment and handed it to the boy.

“Finish these and I’ll consider your time served for the day,” Merlin sighed.

Douxie had been sure he would shut down. He quickly snatched the list and ran to the door, uttering a rushed ‘thank you master’ before it shut behind him. Merlin watched him leave, fondness in his eyes.

The sun was just dipping past the high kingdom walls, turning the town a vibrant orange. Douxie hung the herbs he’d just gathered, heaving a sigh of great relief when the last one was in place. He raced across the west side, eager to visit his… friend? Is that who you were to him? He banished the thought as he came upon the west tower, dark eyebrows shooting up in surprise. Citizens, a lot of them, stood in a line from the tower out down the hallway. 

“What’s going on?” he asked a young woman.

“I’m here with my children, the Crowmaster is penning wishlists for Saint Nick. Just a shilling each!” 

Douxie nodded and thanked her, then made his way to the tower. He gently pushed past the mob gathered in the doorway, stammering apologies. At last, he reached the Crowlord’s desk. The man himself was nowhere to be seen and you were alone, writing away at the whim of an excited child. He caught a glimpse of your face, you looked tired. Had you really been doing this all day?

Exhausted wasn’t a big enough word to describe how you felt. The only thing keeping you going was reading the various forms of concern written on your skin. By now, you knew you’d met them, but you couldn’t place who it could be. However, thinking was only making you more fatigued as your aching wrist swept across the parchment.

Douxie said nothing, just pulled out the Crowlord’s chair, and sat down. You looked at him, eyes wide, but the only explanation offered was a kind smile. He picked up a quill and called out for the next person to step forward. You turned back to the young girl asking for a sword, your smile wide and heart swelling.

By the time you two finished, the sun was half past the horizon. The last patron left the tower and you both heaved a sigh of relief.

“I can’t than-” 

“Um, do you think-” 

You looked at one another and laughed, waiting for the other to speak. Douxie hesitated, then took a deep breath. 

“Uhm, do you think you’ve some time? I’d like to show you something,” he asked, lifting his eyes to your face.

“Sure,” you replied, smiling and holding out your elbow.

He beamed, quickly grabbing two pieces of parchment, a quill, and an inkwell. You raised a brow but let him be as he threaded your arm through his and started walking.

The young wizard’s apprentice couldn’t bring himself to speak, he was far too nervous. Thankfully, you found the silence comfortable as he led you up a winding staircase at the corner of the castle. Once you both reached the top, he gestured to the sea. It was breathtaking. The salty breeze floated through your hair as you admired the sun’s glow over the water and the colors of twilight.

Douxie broke the quiet. “I thought you’d like this. Hmm, it isn’t enough light to write by though.” He waved his hand, sending blue wisps to swirl around you both. You watched them float about, eyes finally landing on Douxie who was making himself comfortable in a crenel, placing the supplies he’d brought with him on the merlon in front of him. You settled across from him, reaching for the quill.

His slender hand caught yours and laid in on the stone, gently massaging your wrist. “You’ll injure yourself at this rate. Let someone else write for you today.” His gaze caught yours, hazel eyes full of concern, and… something else you couldn’t place.

A gentle smile spread across your face as you reveled in the sun on your skin and the breeze on your lips. Douxie shuffled his papers around and spoke up again a moment later.

“So! What’s your wish?” Douxie asked, smiling wide.

“What?” you said, puzzled.

Douxie rose a brow, pointing out “All today, has anyone penned you a wishlist?”

“I suppose not,” you said, the smile settling back onto your face.

He beamed and set the quill to the parchment again. “Fantastic. Not that I think it’s fantastic no one’s offered, I’m just glad I get to- oh, I never even asked. I should have asked first, I’m so sorry-,” His shoulders tensed, but he stopped abruptly when he felt your hand on his.

“Hisirdoux, thank you. I’d love it if you did, there’s no need to worry.”

You started telling him things you wanted for Christmas and conversation flowed from there. Teasing banter and loud laughter filled the sky as it turned to night, blue magic floating around you both excitedly in time with your synchronized heartbeats as he finally walked you to your chambers, even offering you his hood. What could he do? He thought you looked cold.

It was just past noon on Christmas day. The ground sparkled a bright white and children’s laughter rang through the air. You took a deep breath of the crisp air and let it out in a contented sigh, taking a sip of the warm cider your master bought you before he left to celebrate with his family. He invited you to join them, but you opted to celebrate it yourself. You placed the cider on the table next to the window you were sitting in and picked up the small wood block you were fashioning into a present for Douxie. The small wooden cat-dragon only needed his hind leg to be freed from its timber prison. It wasn’t perfect, but it’s the thought that counts. As you worked, sentences curled up your arms and swirling letters kissed the base of your fingers. You paused your whittling with a frown. The only feeling behind this gift was love. You’d accepted you loved Douxie after that night bathed in twilight and lonely smiles, but you felt so incredibly twisted about it. You’d already met your soulmate and they thought about you often. Did your soulmate also worry they’d fallen in love with the wrong person? You shook your head, clearing your mind at the sound of wingbeats. Your hawk familiar landed on your raised knee and began to preen themself, looking at you smugly through pristine feathers.

“I can feel you overthinking things from across the castle,” they spoke, masking concern under teasing.

You scoffed, knowing they were right. “What am I meant to do? I can’t go on like this when I’ve got a soulmate out there. I can’t even try, it’s against the law! They know we’re bonded, what if they see me with him? I don’t want to hurt them like that. Not to mention, what if he’s not perfect for me? I want the soulbond to experience all of another person, but should I give that up for love?”

Your familiar shook their head and flew away, leaving you with your question hanging in the air. Watching them leave, you noticed someone walking towards the slorr’s stable. The manbun was too recognizable for there to be a shred of doubt: Douxie was being put to work on Christmas Day. You turned the wooden Archie in your hand and pushed off the windowsill. Just because you love him doesn’t mean you can’t stay friends.

Douxie was in flux. Archie saw the boy’s neutral expression turn sour as he read what he could of his soulmate’s thoughts. They loved someone else? Would they give him up for someone they’d already met? He couldn’t exactly criticize, he was in the same boat. Y/N was so important to him, but if he found his soulmate, could he quell the confusing little thing they had together for someone he barely knew? He decided he’d understand if his soulmate didn’t love him, he’d want them to do the same. He loved Y/N too much to let them go.

He looked up from his arm and startled. You were waiting for him, leaning against the slorr’s gate, your hawk familiar preening themself. While you laughed at his absentmindedness, he frantically rolled his ¾ sleeves down over the words that betrayed his true heart. 

“Y-Y/N! W-what are you doing here? Aren’t you- um, aren’t you meant to be celebrating?” Douxie stammered out as his heart rate slowed. 

You pushed off the gate and grabbed the pail he was holding in his hands that were still light with adrenaline. “I am! I opted not to celebrate with Master Corbin and his family, take the day for myself and see where it leads,” you said, a hopeful grin rising to your lips.

Douxie broke into a giddy smile, his heart afloat. They had all of Christmas to enjoy the town and they were here with him? He couldn’t believe his fortune. “Then I’m glad it led you here!” he exclaimed. 

Archie curled himself around your leg, butting his dark head into your calf. “Are you here to enjoy the show?” he asked with a purr. 

Your laugh was the only thing keeping Douxie from strangling his bespectacled familiar, so he settled for a pout you internally cooed at. 

Both of you paused in front of the gate, reluctant to enter. He swung it open with a bow. “Ladies first.”

“Cheeky,” you said to him over your shoulder.

Archie and your familiar started playing with one another as you two prepared to take on the slorr together.

Hm. This was a mess. The slorr seemed to enjoy the happy atmosphere you’d both created so she was a tad more cooperative, but it took longer for her to calm down. You and Douxie were covered head to toe in the glowing blue liquid, trying to remove what you could into the pail Merlin gave him. Your shared laughter slowed to silence as you noticed him staring at you, eyes slowly roving over your face. Did he look… sad? No, that wasn’t it. Before you could scrutinize him further, you felt it. Gentle fingers caressing your cheek, going up, up… Your breath hitched as he laid his palm to your cheek, thumb slowly moving across your face. You let out a shaky breath and he jolted, noticing your wide eyes fixed on his and quickly withdrawing his hand.

He shook some juice from his hand and gesticulated wildly, stammering through an apology. “You- you had some juice on your cheek, I’m so sorry, Merlin’s tower, I shouldn’t have done that-”

“It’s okay, really. Thanks for getting it for me,” you interrupted. You wanted to say more, but his sleeve had risen in his fervor, swirling lines reminding you he wasn’t yours to comfort. Hisirdoux was such an emotional and empathetic being, he wouldn’t leave his soulmate. Especially since his soulmate would have to be an absolute saint, it’s no less than he deserved. Taking a deep breath in, you looked back at him. “Don’t bite your lips, you’ll chap them. Was that your last task for the day?”

Douxie released his lip, fighting the urge to continue chewing it. “It was, and I’ve no clue how I’m going to use the rest of the afternoon,” he said, watching as his familiar and yours playfully wrestled for a mouse.

Your heart leaped, this was your chance! “How would you like to spend it together? There are tons of things to do in town and I’ve saved up my pay for a while so I’ve some wiggle room. Not to mention, I’ve made you something.”

The nervous cloud around you both dissolved as Douxie eagerly agreed and begged you to reveal what you had for him. You denied him with a laugh, smile widening with his every impatient groan. Your familiars ran ahead of you both, swirling in a frenzy of playful fighting and laughter as you walked out of the castle, arm-in-arm.

The town was a sight to behold. Holly curled around door frames, red berries nestled among twisted wreaths. Mistletoe hung from building corners, tracks disrupted the perfect layers of fresh snow, and children weaved and ducked through throngs of people gathered around street musicians. Snowballs were flying at the end of every street, laughter and song floating in the air with the excited chatter of families buying wares for their families, and lines of crushed berries stained the ground. It was an English tradition to wish to meet your soulmate sooner by spreading holly berries in a line on Christmas as a nod to the Chinese legends of the soulstring, a red string that connected soulmates there. Sure, it made a mess of your shoes but you always found it cute.

The first few minutes were unsure, both of you fishing for ideas on what to do first. Archie and your familiar were already deep in conversation, but you and Douxie were struggling. That is, until, the smell of sweet buns reached him. His stomach let out a mighty grumble, a testament to how he’d been working for longer than you and likely hadn’t eaten lunch yet. He covered his pale face with his free hand, too embarrassed to bear seeing you fight a rising smile. You slid your hand down his forearm and grasped his cold fingers, pulling him towards the source of the heavenly aroma. A fiery blush rose to his ears when he registered your fingers lacing with his while you waited in line. Reaching the front, Douxie’s protests fell on deaf ears as you swatted his hands away, insisting you’d pay. The baker gave a soft smile and handed you two of the high coveted baked goods, bidding you both a happy Christmas. Just two apprentices walking hand in hand, browsing stalls, eating together, and enjoying one another's company.

Douxie heard something on the wind and perked up. Lively music came from the town square and Douxie wasn’t about to miss the chance to dance with you. He pulled you from the daggers you were eyeing, making a note of which you lingered on before pulling you close and weaving through the other partygoers. Soon enough, you made it to the musicians, seeing the space before them where a group was dispersing as the song ended. The vocalist started up again, solo for a few lines until the band swelled. Douxie bounced on his heels, recognizing the tune as The Bear and the Maiden Fair. His excitement sent a wave of courage through him and he slipped his fingers from yours, instead grabbing you by the wrist to drag you to the open space.  Others joined, forming a circle. Claps and stomps interrupted the smooth movement of the ring. Laughter mixed with the joyful notes of the flute. Hisirdoux couldn’t stop looking at your joined hands, sometimes lifting his gaze to your eyes closed in a laugh. When the vocalist reached the line “lifted her high into the air”, Douxie broke his hand away from the person opposite you, lifted you by the waist, and spun. Your clothes fluttered and for a moment, you were weightless. Douxie’s laughter rang in your ears, lingering just like the feeling of his fingers intertwined with yours. His hands were warm and firm on your midsection, the heat replaced with a chill as he set you down. You absently continued the dance, happiness clouding the passage of time. Douxie kept your hand in his, allowing your arms to fall to your sides. You looked at each other, breathless smiles lingering on your faces as the song changed once more. You both walked on, catching your breath and coming down from the high.

A few hours later, you’d both had more interaction with each other than you’d had with anyone else all year. It was a welcome break from the same hallways, the same people, and the same routines. You’d bought each other dinner, talked about everything under the sun, and danced through seemingly all of Camelot, only separating for maybe an hour to buy gifts that may or may not have been for one another.

The day was coming to a close, the sun once again a deep vermillion, the snow reflecting it like gems. As you were heading back to the castle, you passed a holly berry stall. Douxie saw you looking at it, sobered by the reminder you were both promised to complete strangers. Just today, he’d fallen so much more in love with you than he thought possible, and if you wanted your soulmate, who was he to deny you? He tugged on your arm, wordlessly offering a pound to the vendor. The woman raised a brow at your intertwined fingers but offered the small basket of berries without a question. You looked at him quizzically when he drew his hand from yours, pouring a good amount into his hand and giving you the remainder. Enjoying the bittersweet silence, you two took turns placing the berries in a line. Archie swatted your familiar’s eager beak from the line of red that was stark against the slow-melting snow. Once you’d finished, Douxie sent you a sad smile and asked if you’d like to exchange gifts in his chambers. You agreed, once again arm-in-arm, streets quiet except for the soft crunching of snow beneath your heavy feet and the pound of heavy hearts.

Hisirdoux lit all his candles as the sun peeked just over the horizon. Archie made himself comfortable on his wizard’s pillow, curling around a tired hawk familiar. Your own wizard associate preened themselves while you and Doux sat on the bed, eventually opting to preen Archie when they were satisfied. Archie let out a yelp when she preened the edge of his ear, earning a look from you. Douxie pulled out a handful of items from his satchel with a flourish and showed you all the things he’d found one by one. Polish for Lancelot’s sword, a garlic braid for one of Galahad’s more ambitious brews, cooked salmon for Archie, and other things spread out in front of him.

He gave a nervous smile. “Close your eyes,” he breathed.

You smiled as your eyes slid shut. His slim, cold fingers touched your hand, causing goosebumps to rise on your arm as he pressed something small into your palm.

“And… open!” He slid his hands from yours and into his lap, an expectant look on his long face. Looking down, you gasped. There laid a ring that looked to be made of vines, weaving around each other and wrapping around the base of a tiny white flower.

“I found a curltrap in the forest on my last herb run and thought you might like it, so I made it into a ring. It won’t wilt. Um… do you? Like it, I mean,” he asked, brows pinching.

You slipped it on and looked at him in awe. Leaning forward, you softly put your arms around his neck and pulled him into a hug. “Douxie, it’s beautiful. No one’s ever given me such a thoughtful gift, thank you for making it.” He laid his hands on your back and laid his face in the crook of your neck to return the gesture, hand trailing after when you pulled away.

“Your turn!” You reached into your bag and paused. “Close your eyes.”

Douxie pouted but held his hand out after doing as he was told. He felt something hard and contoured, slowly curling his long fingers around it. He opened his eyes and stared at it in awe. It was wood whittled in Archie’s likeness, complete with small green gems for eyes and tiny glasses frames made of wire. His wings were unfurled, his posture inquisitive. Archie looked at it, speechless.

“I wasn’t sure what you’d like so I played it safe. When I told the carpenter it was for you he offered to inlay the gems for free. You’re more appreciated than you think!” you exclaimed with a smile. He whispered a “thank you” as he turned it over in his hands, admiring the details. In all honesty, he’d already committed every dip and groove to memory, he was just replaying your words in his mind. “You’re more appreciated than you think!” He never thought about the impact he had on others, he was too busy being concerned with Merlin’s opinion of him. That’d be something he’d have to work on if it made you smile like that.

The rest of the evening flew by, laughter and the sound of a lute seeping through Douxie’s chamber door and into Merlin’s study. By now you’d fallen asleep on his bed having drifted off while Douxie softly sang a folk lullaby you’d requested. He lifted the blanket over you and laid down, the blanket layered between you two. He stared at you while you slept, soaking you in. The shadows your eyelashes cast on your cheeks. Your chest rising and falling in tandem with his. The black lines swirling to your collarbone- wait. Douxie watched as a thought appeared on your skin, hidden under your shirt. Archie moved in circles at the foot of the bed and stopped abruptly feeling Douxie’s sudden fear. He was so tempted to look but he couldn’t risk you hating him… it’s just to see what they think of you. To see if they deserve you. Yeah, that was a viable excuse. Archie hissed quietly at his friend, watching Douxie’s trembling fingers gingerly expose the skin towards your shoulder. He looked at the two words, puzzled. “They’re breathtaking.” Did they see you in the square? Had it been when you’d separated? Douxie was torn from his own thoughts when you made a noise, your brow furrowing for a moment and relaxing. His hand still had your collarbone exposed, and he watched in equal parts elation and horror as his own thought scrawled itself onto your skin.

“I don’t know if I can let you go.”

His blood ran cold, breath hitching and mind flailing. 

You were his. You were fated to be his. But you loved someone else.

Spring had returned to Camelot, plants thriving in the sun’s warmth. The flowers were happy, fluttering in the sea breeze. You furrowed your brow when your heart clenched at the thought of such beautiful blossoms mocking you. A shadow passed over your face as you looked to the flower that still curled itself around your finger. It’d been three months since the best Christmas you’d ever had, but the memory was now stained. Douxie and you still talked, but for some reason, he made excuses to avoid you and felt distant when you were able to cajole him into a short walk. At first, it seemed like he was busy with the amulet, but then he was absent even when Merlin said he was stuck and didn’t require his apprentice’s help. You were disappointed and confused, feeling hurt every time he blew you off with some excuse of running errands for Merlin.

Hisirdoux wasn’t feeling any better. He missed you greatly and seeing what you thought of his excuses only deepened his guilt. But wasn’t this what you wanted? Why would you be so disappointed he wouldn’t spend as much time with you if you loved someone else? He chalked it up to the soulmate bond, ignoring Archie’s concern and attempts at advice. His eyes were sunken in and puffy, due in part to crying himself to sleep watching your pain at his sudden distance write itself on his skin. He’d go to bed with swirling lines of magical ink torturing his dreams and awake a blank slate, ready for it to start all over again. 

Archie couldn’t take this. For the past week, he’d been pushing his magic through their psychic bond, pouring parts of a sleep spell into his charge, but that would only work for so long. Douxie was destroying himself from the inside out, all because he couldn’t be selfish for once and speak up. The shifter waited for Douxie to leave for the day, telling him he’d find him at noon. Archie stayed in front of the door until the young man’s voice faded. He sighed, whispering an apology. Douxie wouldn’t want anyone to know, but the boy needed an intervention.

“Merlin? We need to talk.”

Merlin had noticed Douxie’s exhaustion and had purposefully lightened his load, but the boy kept working regardless. Merlin thought less work could allow him to spend more time with the Crowmaster (who at this point couldn’t be anyone BUT Douxie’s soulmate considering how quickly they bonded and how much time they spent together), but he’d come back to his study to see the books sorted a different way every week, the suits of armor impossibly polished, and the herb rack overflowing with all kinds of magical flora. As Archie relayed the events of the past few months, Merlin felt his chest constrict tighter and tighter. His heart bled for the boy, growing angry at just how oblivious you both were. And then, an idea. Not one of his best or subtlest, but it’d get the job done fast and serve as a bit of punishment for confusing his apprentice’s heart.

It was that time of year again. The yearly royal summit had you and the Crowlord running circles around one another, both of you rapidly penning and sending letters and the occasional need to coerce the grumpiest crow, Corvus, to carry just one more letter for the day. Between your familiar’s regular several-day flights to Spain, your scurrying around the castle, and the magic you were giving the crows for some extra juice, you were exhausted. Your eyes were sunken, you weren’t sleeping properly, and you missed Douxie. You didn’t know why, but his absence made your heart hurt. Every time you collected letters from Merlin, your throat closed at seeing his apprentice’s chamber door. Catching a glimpse of him through doorways and windows made your mouth dry. Both Master Corbin and Galahad had noticed your change in attitude, asking you to rest and why Douxie wasn’t with you, confused why you were no longer attached by the hip. You were tired. Everything fell by the wayside as you rushed from official to official. The king himself was concerned for you. Well, as concerned as he was willing to be towards a mage. 

Finally, there was a lull. You were able to rest for a while but didn’t dare leave the tower, knowing something would pop up eventually. Sitting down for what felt like the first time in weeks, you let everything go. The “mother hen” of the tower crows, Corinth, coaxed it out of you bit by bit until the dam burst. She preened your scalp while you cried, hot tears rolling down your twisted features. The feeling was comforting, helping to ease your upset. Finally, you were able to speak. 

“...I love him, Corinth. I don’t know how I hurt him and I don’t know how to fix it, but I love him. He isn’t mine and he never will be, I know it, I do, so why does it still hurt so much?”  you whimpered, drawing your knees to your chest.

“Perhaps he’s blind,” she said sagely.

“He can see perfectly well,” you whispered with an insincere chuckle, still not trusting your ability to speak without breaking down again.

Her eyes glinted in the noontime sun. “Stupid, then.”

You laughed, eyes crinkling and forcing tears that were left on your lashes to fall. “Douxie may well be stupid, but he isn’t simple. It’s one of his many charms.” A soft smile lingered on your face, heart lighter than before. “Thank you Corinth, you listen well.”

She shook out her plumage and settled on your knees, cuddling into your bosom. You stroked her gently, the silence pushing in on your curled form.

༓・༓・༓・༓・༓・༓・༓・༓

Poor Hisirdoux was in flux again. He sat on his bed turning the wooden Archie over in his hands. Merlin had left not too long ago and given him the day. Douxie’s hands felt light without a task. Come to think of it, his head felt light too. He couldn’t sleep yet, but he desperately needed a pick-me-up. A sigh escaped him when he realized his basin was nearly empty. He’d wanted something to do so he might as well refill it. Upon picking up the basin he dropped it immediately, water splashing violently across the floor along with the clatter of wood on stone. Archie yowled, shifting into his dragon form. The boy’s eyes were wide in horror as he recalled his reflection in the water. You see, in England, not only are the words of a soulmate tie important, but their placing on the skin holds equal meaning. Douxie had only ever gotten them on his limbs and the base of his skull when he was younger, but ever since he met Y/N, they began showing on his torso and the left side of his chest. But this… this couldn’t mean anything good. Scrawled black lines, no longer smooth and flourished, curled around his throat. They began from seemingly nowhere and writhed downwards in a creeping spiral, the end reaching for his heart. 

“Arch!” he cried. “What’s happening? Why are they like this? What do they say? Arch, Arch, please I need to know what’s wrong!” Tears welled in his hazel eyes as he dragged his hands down his throat, futilely trying to smudge the twisted lines.

Archie felt his fear so strongly his back arched on its own accord, but he found his way to Douxie quickly. He scampered to the boy just as he fell to his knees, his mind nothing but questions. Archie shifted, paws pulling Douxie’s frantic hands into his lap as he curled his wings around the boy’s shoulders. He sniffed and shuddered to a halt, shaky breaths drawing in and out as he lifted his head for Archie to read the swirling text.

Archie’s reaction to your thoughts was well hidden. He knew you two loved each other, but this hurt him just as much as it did Douxie. “...I love him, Corinth. I don’t know how I hurt him and I don’t know how to fix it, but I love him. He isn’t mine and he never will be, I know it, I do, so why does it still hurt so much?” The next bit made him breathe a laugh, but he realized that while it wouldn’t be easy to tell Douxie just how much you were both hurt by each other’s assumptions, it was just the proof he needed. Archie tugged the reluctant apprentice out into Merlin’s study.

Hisirdoux approached the mirror, looking back at Archie before he confronted the letters snaking down his collarbone. He twisted this way and that, heart falling to pieces over and over with every word.

He shifted his hood back into place, fluffing the collar to cast the letters in shadow. One look at Archie’s concerned face was all it took. He sank against the wall, gathering Archie into his arms and burying his face into his familiar’s side. Glistening tears wet Archie’s fur as the cat dragon purred loudly to offer comfort. 

Hisirdoux’s breathing evened out. “Arch, what have I done? What can I do?” he whispered, clutching the familiar ever closer.

Archie placed a large paw on the boy’s chest, near his heart. “You can go after them. Tell them what you know.” 

Douxie nodded after a beat and gathered himself, quickly walking out of Merlin’s tower and towards the western wing of the castle.

༓・༓・༓・༓・༓・༓・༓・༓

The king and his court mages piled into a carriage in preparation for the trip to the port where they’d depart to Spain for the royal summit. Merlin and Morgana sat next to each other and shared a look when the carriage lurched forward. Of course Merlin enlisted Morgana’s help, she’s a trusted source of chaos. He felt for the Crowlord’s aura in the tower and nodded to her once he confirmed Corbin was away. While Arthur was distracted, they sent their magic out. Tendrils of light bobbed, weaved, and merged to form two fluorescent lime balls. They floated around as if to get their bearings, then flew at the west tower. Nestled just below the ridge leading from the doorway was a sack of Dworkstone, its contents belonging to various trolls imprisoned in the castle dungeons. One ball started to vibrate just before it pushed to the center of the sack, starting the movement needed for a mother of an explosion The other flattened into a shield, curling itself around the sack. And they waited.

༓・༓・༓・༓・༓・༓・༓・༓

You were still curled on the floor, Corinth in your lap when the crows began to beat their wings against their cages. Corinth was panicked but managed to push what coherent thought she could into your mind.

“The door… danger... hurry…” She struggled, taking off out the window in a flutter of black. 

You felt the disturbance, dread rising in the pit of your stomach. Scrambling to your feet, you barely managed to stand before a loud boom shook the tower. The shield swelled, Trollfire stretching the ward into the room. Your frantic hands undid locks and bonds as quickly as they could, ushering the crows to safety through the large window. The ward began to thin, crackles of green sparks coming undone as the fire fought against Merlin’s magic. You barely managed to throw the last crow out the window before the ward burst into a violent, moving wall of green flames.

You were pushed into the far wall, falling and splitting your brow on the cobblestone. All you could hear was ringing as your vision went white, slowly fading back to normal. You were trapped under the desk and a few chairs, too weak to lift them off. The screech of a hawk sounded far off as your hearing faded in and out. Fire blazed all around you, easily spreading along the hay bedding in the open cages. You coughed, smoke already in the air. Wait. It shouldn’t be this low yet, it’s only been a few moments since the explosion. You quickly sobered into a panic when you realized the wood piled on top of you was burning. Great. Now you were scared and disoriented. A perfect mix for getting out of sticky situations. The only thing to do now was wait.

Douxie could swear he felt his soul leave his body. He was on his way to tell you-- well, everything. You were his everything. He felt it before he heard it. The tingle of troll and human magic filled the air before a loud explosion shook the western tower. The western tower? Fuzzbuckets, you were on duty today! Crows flew from the open window, a whole murder blackening the sky for a few moments. They’d dispersed by the time he made it to the tower entrance. There was a small crowd a few paces back, Lancelot and another knight inspecting the swelling ward full of fire. Douxie pushed through the crowd just in time to see Lancelot raising his sword. 

“No! Everyone run!” he screamed. 

Lance was already going full swing when he heard it, looking back at Douxie in fear. Douxie grabbed the knight and made the best ward he could on short notice before the shield burst. They were all blasted backward, a few serfs’ tunics setting on fire. His dark hair was thoroughly windswept, his entire body frozen in shock on the ground. Lancelot might have been screaming, but Douxie couldn’t hear it. Blood dripped down his pale face, but Douxie couldn’t feel it. He could have been floating, his head was so light. Sure, his ears rang, his hands trembled, his chest heaved, but all he could feel was you. Your confusion, your panic. You were definitely inside. Douxie struggled to his feet and stumbled forward into the tower, ignoring Galahad’s voice yelling for him to stop.

If he wasn’t suffocating before, he sure was now. Douxie brought his hood to his mouth to filter some of the air and began searching for you. It wasn’t a very big room, but between the fire, smoke, and items strewn throughout, it was proving more difficult than he’d hoped. 

You let out a groan, the table pushing splinters into your leg.

He whipped his head towards the source of the sound, hoping to catch a glimpse of movement. “Y/N?! Y/N, where are you?” he cried.

Weakly, you spoke through a great cough. “...Douxie? Is that you?” 

He hurried to the large pile of wood and began tearing it apart. “It’s me, it’s me, love. Please be alright, please, please, please, you can’t die. You’re not going to die, love.”

Hisirdoux heaved the table off you just as you slumped to the floor. He lifted you by the arms with a mighty roar, dragging you towards the open doorway. Galahad and the knight from earlier ran to catch you both as Douxie slipped into unconsciousness. 

༓・༓・༓・༓・༓・༓・༓・༓

Two days. You hadn’t stirred for two days. The sun shone softly through the long linen curtains. Your familiar was perched on the headboard, asleep. Douxie was sat up by your bedside, bandaged hands gingerly holding one of yours while Archie slept on your legs. The boy had gotten burned pulling the debris off of you. He hadn’t left your side, save when the castle nurses forced him to eat, bathe, and sleep. They knew him well, uncoordinated as he was, and it broke their hearts to see him look so tired although the past couple of days were the most rested he’d ever been. He was scared. Everything had gone downhill when he found out you were soulmates and he blamed himself. 

“None of this would have happened if I’d just told you. You could have been away from the tower, safe with me. I was too afraid of losing you. All I knew was you loved someone else and I couldn’t let you guilt yourself into abandoning ‘him’ because we’re bonded. I was on my way to tell you, you know. I saw what you were thinking to Corinth and Archie convinced me to go after you. I-” his voice cracked, fresh tears coming to his eyes. “I love you, Y/N. I have long before I knew about the bond. I hurt you. I hurt us both. If only I wasn’t such a coward…” He was weeping now, head hung low and shoulders shaking. “I love you so much, and I still let this happen,” he stammered between quiet sobs. He brought your hand to his forehead, cradling it as if it was the most precious thing in the world. And to him, you were.

He jumped when your hand slowly withdrew from his. His head snapped up, and there you were. Sun shining behind you like a halo, your eyes glinting in a tearful smile. You wiped the tears from his cheek, just like he’d done to you with the unruly slorr all those months ago, and let out a yelp of surprise. Douxie had thrown his arms around you and buried his face into your shoulder.

“Doux! Your hair tickles,” you croaked, bringing your arms around him. He was crying again, just a little. His chest felt light. You were here. You were okay. Archie had woken when you jumped and was padding up to your face, pushing himself against your cheek. You sat up slowly when Douxie released you and patted the space next to you on the cot. He settled and looked up at you, eyes still sad.

“So, uh. How much of that did you hear?”

“Enough.” You cupped his face. “Douxie. I didn’t fall in love with a coward. I fell in love with the bravest, most selfless wizard in Camelot. Not to mention his adorable manbun. I love you too, Hisirdoux Casperan. Soul bond or not, I want to spend the rest of eternity with you.”

He brought his hand to yours, feeling the tiny curl trap blossom on the ring he made you. Gently, he took their hand in his, admiring the accessory. “Even after all I did, you kept it on.”

“And I don’t plan on ever taking it off,” you smiled. 

He slowly removed the ring, taking hold of your left hand. His eyes were hopeful and a little scared when he looked up at you, fingers pausing. Tears welled up in your eyes.

“Promise?”

“With my whole heart, love.”

You placed your hand on the back of his neck, pulling him into a soft, loving kiss as he slipped the promise ring onto your finger.

༓・༓・༓・༓・༓・༓・༓・༓

Lance had lost his arm in the explosion but was rather excited about his new prosthetic. You two had healed as well, soon going back to work. Every time you passed one another, fingers brushed, kisses were stolen, and smiles were shared. The entire castle ended up hearing about how you two became so close, and soon enough, you were somewhat of a folk tale amongst the townsfolk. Now, every Christmas, soulmates exchange handmade gifts while sharing sweetbuns, now deemed a good omen for true love.

Even now, 900 years later, you’d hide your smiles as Arcadian couples surprised one another with things they’d made while ordering an eclair at Benoit’s. It’d been so long, but it seems some things stay the same, you and Hisirdoux included. Sure, you’d both grown in character, but around you, he was still the same lovesick fool he had been all those years ago. You still had your ring, which he’d embellished a bit on your wedding day. Douxie still thought about you as much as he did then. Today, while you were at your job at HexTech, you smiled adoringly at the words on your wrist.

“Your eyes are such a lovely color. Oh, how far we’ve come from clumsy accidents and runny ink. I love you, darling. More than you can ever know.”

[zipstick]

Pass the happy!💕🌺 When you receive this, list 5 things that make you happy and send this to 10 of the last people in your notifications.

There were 10 things, so I’m gonna list all of them because screw you 

10: Drawing. I’ve been doing a lot of drawing lately after discovering that I do, in fact, have the ability to draw people. And as well as people I’m quite good at drawing animals. More specifically, cats and dragons. Why it’s these two I’m not sure, but I suspect it may have something to do with the fact that the only accurate depictions of dragons are the giant scaly winged fire-breathing cats of the How To Train Your Dragon universe.

9: Chocolate, especially mint chocolate. In February I bought some mint chocolates in a sweet shop in Huddersfield, and they’re so nice. My parents got me a dark chocolate egg with some mint chocolates which was very nice. And for my birthday they gave me a bigger bag of nice mint chocolates from the same chocolate place as the egg. Also last year on a trip to Germany with the school I attend I went to the Lindt Shokoladen Museum in Cologne and got free samples of, and bought about  €20-25 worth of some of the nicest chocolate I’ve ever had. If you’re ever in Cologne for some reason go there. 

8: Studio Ghibli Movies. I’ve loved them since watching Spirited Away when I was young (Maybe 6 or 7) and for a few years my favourite was one called The Cat Returns which has kind of a nonsensical plot but I still really like it. And then they came to Netflix, and oh boy, there could not be a more opportune time for me to be shut in my house. I have watched Ponyo, The Cat Returns, Whisper Of The Heart, Princess Mononoke, My Neighbour Totoro, Kiki’s Delivery Service (twice) and Howl’s Moving Castle, which I watched three times within the course of a week (dear god help me) and there’s still like eight which I am yet to watch.

7: Harry Potter. I have been reading the series and watching the movies and drawing the fan art for nearly 3 years now and I really like these books. My favourite character is Sirius and I am in Hufflepuff and my Patronus is a badger and I can remember all the details of my wand without checking (spruce, 14 1/2 inches, unicorn hair core, quite bendy) and now I have written  a chapter in a fanfic based on the Cursed Child. (which I haven’t even come read or watched and was basing the characterisation entirely on how my friend who is the main author of that fic wrote them). I own a Hufflepuff Quidditch T-shirt, a Hufflepuff hat, 2 Hufflepuff pin badges, a Hufflepuff scarf, a Hufflepuff mug, a Golden Snitch bracelet, and a replica of Newt Scamander’s wand. I have been to the Warner Bros Harry Potter Studio Tour and the Platform 9 3/4 shop at King’s Cross. I own a copy of Quidditch Through The Ages, The Tales of Beedle The Bard, and Fantastic Beasts and Where To Find Them.

6: Doctor Who. I have been watching Doctor Who my whole life. I own 2 sonic screwdriver toys (the ninth and tenth doctors’ and the thirteenth doctor’s) and a miniature Tardis that makes The Noiseᵀᴹ. I have watched every episode since the revival in 2005 and quite a few of the old ones from the 60s and 80s, most of which were the fourth doctor. In bluetooth settings my phone is called The Oncoming Storm in reference to what the Daleks call the Doctor. My phone’s hotspot it titled: Reference Doctor Who For Pass and the password is yet another doctor who reference. I love jelly babies and I will drop a doctor who reference into the conversation at every opportunity. I have taken a photo in front of the Tardis at Earl’s Court Road in London. I have an 11th Doctor notebook and a notebook which is the Tardis. My phone case is also the Tardis.

5: Animals. Reptiles and especially snakes in particular, though I adore cats and rabbits and birds and other such cute animals as well. I’ve loved all things reptiles for months now, since I believe early November. It began when I found this video by Snake Discovery on YouTube. Great channel, highly recommended. After I watched that I looked through their videos and discovered I believe this video of baby Western Hognose snakes hatching. I instantly fell in love. I stopped watching their videos for a while before re-discovering their channel in November, when I fell in love with reptiles all over again. It has now become my biggest life goal to own a hognose snake (as well as wanting to own about 23 other species of reptiles and amphibians at some point in my life, some to a higher degree than others).

4: Watching TV with my parents. Whenever a new series of Doctor Who is airing, get together in front of the telly to watch it. Recently, my dad dug up a few Beatles DVDs and I spent an evening watching Eight Days A Week: The Touring Years with him.

3:  Merlin. More specifically, the fandom. I love looking at gifsets or fan art or fic recs on here. I’ve been watching the show for almost a year now and have technically been in the fandom for longer since I started watching videos of clips from the show on this YouTube channel. I’ve been trapped on Tumblr ever since. Send help. If I have counted correctly, I am on my 4th rewatch of the show. I am in the process of writing a Magic Reveal AU fanfic. I have also tried and failed several times to draw Merlin. I am following every Merlin blog I have found and am subbed to r/merlinbbc and r/bbcmerlinmemes on reddit. I have a sideblog dedicated to All Things Merlinᵀᴹ. Also Colin and Bradley are very wholesome and I love them both.

2: The Beatles. I’ve only been listening to the Beatles’ music for a few months, but I think it’s safe to say that they are my favourite musicians ever. In fact, I’m listening to them right now. There are so many songs that I just really vibe with like I’m Looking Through you or All My Loving or She Loves you or I’m Happy Just To Dance With you or Eight Days A Week, or my personal favourite: Here Comes The Sun, and these are just a few. There’s so many I can’t even name them all. On top of that, interviews with them or little clips of them together are always so much fun to watch because they always have little jokes to make the interviewer laugh and you can tell from the way that they interact in videos that they were such good friends. Also they’re cute so there’s that too. Anyway that’s enough gushing about the Beatles. Moving on.

1: My favourite thing is just to talk to my friends, because I’m lucky enough to have a relatively large group of friends, especially for being the socially awkward teenager that I am. And all of my friends are so nice and they’re always making me laugh or telling me some interesting fact or sharing their interests with me and they’re just overall fun to be around. Once quarantine is over I’m really looking forward to seeing them in person again.

[loucifieri]

ndrv3 HPA AU (Class ‘79) notes~

I’ve only ever been posting snippets of the their silly school life (without following a chronological timeline of events) so here’s some context of how I characterized the ndrv3 kids (essentially the same personalities but with some tweaks) and maybe some info on the relationships in my comics. Implied and outright spoilers, apparently. The rest under the cut.

NDRV3 Character design masterlist here Class 79A Character descriptions here Further characterizations here Family headcanons here Cover Art here Dorm designs here

Comic snippets so far: (most of these were from before I finalized their characterizations) Moms called out by trash child Kaito and Kokichi have “The Talk” How Kaede became the Class Rep A Lesson in Romantics Real Talk Sports Day

[Facebook] [Instagram] [Twitter] [Blogger] [Kofi]

/Draft/ Final characterizations here

Kaede Akamatsu: The ‘protagonist spotlight’ mostly falls on her. Personality-wise, she’ll still be the ever cheerful, charming and kind Kaede (with a toned down self-righteousness) but with a dash of her pre-game personality which is being mistrustful and to an extent, condescending. 

Angie Yonaga: Angie is still Angie, but with added eccentricities. Since she her character design kind of implies she’s from an island in the West (okay, Hawaii) which is part of America, she’s going to be referencing memes and western culture.

Kirumi Tojo: Her maid shtick is a conscious effort for her. She has selfish whims and insecurities deep down that calm, collected and altruistic persona that she tries to project. (in-game Tojo was just too one dimensional, ugh)

Tenko Chabashira: She mostly maintains her enthusiastic, down to earth, protective (of the girls) nature but she won’t be too vocal about her aversion towards the MENaces (it was so overdone in the game to the point of being annoying) and with a short temper. Will probably have a sad or comical (still can’t decide which lol) backstory about why she dislikes DEGENERATE MALES.

Himiko Yumeno: Mostly the same with her in-game personality but isn’t dismissive of human interaction. Apart from her “I’m a mage, not a magician” gag, she’s suspected to be always on drugs by most. Secretly stays up late a lot to watch k-drama.

Maki Harukawa: Still anti-social and uptight but it won’t be because of her talent (which is outright revealed to be Ultimate Assassin)… she just hates talking to people her age (lol). Also, her backstory won’t be the same in-game coz that seemed intentionally sad in context, but it’s strangely out of place in a peaceful AU like this. She’s still from an orphanage and serves as an elder sister figure. She was physically conditioned and trained to be an assassin but it turns out it was just a complicated plot to make her a Motion Capture stunt girl for an Assassin’s Creed game. So yeah, she hasn’t really killed anyone in real life but she physically (and mentally??) can, if desired.

Tsumugi Shirogane: She won’t think she’s a plain jane nor will she make an effort to remain a ‘wallflower.’ She’s into a lot of fandoms, naturally. She also stans Junko Enoshima (who isn’t a Despair junkie btw) and makes vague references about “being in a reality show,” (wink, wink)

Miu Iruma: Same ol’ Miu, but will try to make an effort to be likeable. Also has standards, so no she is not going to do lewd things with Teru Teru-sempai.

Shuichi Saihara: Since no one has to die for his character development, it’s going to take awhile for him to remove his hat. At first, he’s still meek and unconfident but not codependent on Kaede. Also adding a dash of his pre-game personality, him being an avid fanboy of all things detective (stans Kyoko Kirigiri, has a sizable collection of Nancy Drew Books and Detective Conan manga etc). Struggles with depression at times.

Kokichi Ouma: Compulsive lying is dumbed down and has his limits with his intentional assholery. His genuinely caring personality will also peek through a lot and he won’t vehemently deny it that much.

Rantaro Amami: Carefree, easygoing and fabulously gay big brother figure of the class. Makes vlogs in the style of Bear Grylls’ Man VS Wild. He also references the Danganronpa franchise plots (except V3) in his stories of his adventures.

Kaito Momota: Still quite sexist but it’s more because of upbringing rather than intentional. He doesn’t just suddenly develop an incurable, deadly disease but he has Tuberculosis (hence, coughs a lot). And, he’s very competitive (his pre-game personality repackaged).

Ryoma Hoshi: Mostly detached and stoic but not depressive and unfeeling. I’m tweaking his backstory a bit coz an ex-con that has served prison time going back to high school is a bit weird (and I don’t want the “HPA pulling shady shenanigans” shtick). His family has been murdered and all he has left is the family cat (that he gets to keep in the dorms) and he’s been pursuing leads about the mafia responsible for it. He’s basically a Sasuke Uchiha here. Anyway, he’s wise but vindictive. Fortunately, he doesn’t want to serve justice with his own hands.

Korekiyo Shinguji: Doesn’t have a sister complex and definitely not a compulsive serial killer here. He’s already got an interesting, creepy persona. Miyadera is alive, but still sickly and would visit him often to bring him home-cooked meals. Unsurprisingly has a fascination for see-saws.

Gonta Gokuhara: still the best boy best boy best boy raised in the mountains He won’t be too gullible here and would even join in roasting Kokichi.

Keebo Idabashi: He’s the Ultimate Robotics Engineer since he’s not a robot. Spent most of his life sheltered (even from the internet) so he’s shy and quite socially inept. Always gets very defensive of his talent.

And now, for the platonic and romantic ships~ I actually multiship but in this AU I’m going to stick to one ship for a particular person since I’m personally not keen on polyamory. (please don’t burn me on a stake)

Kaede||Shuichi: Saimatsu BROTP; in fact, they refer to each other by first name. I didn’t want this to be an “OTP” here since Saimatsu was mostly set up and situational in-game because of Shuichi’s codependency and Kaede’s desire to break him out of his shell, though undeniably they do have a really good chemistry together. Really, I love Saimatsu just-- let them explore their options. (I’m also just bitter I couldn’t flirt more using Kaede after Chapter 1 ;w;)

Kaede|Kirumi: I’m not inconspicuous about it actually lol idk I just see a good chemistry between them. Also, think of the mom jokes since they’re both the class moms. And while my comics tend to jump back and forth chronologically, if I was going to write a fic– their relationship is a slow burn with lots of pining

Shuichi|Kokichi: Their love hotel scene oh my god Kokichi really has it bad and that little liar is a good match for Sai, he facilitated his growth in a (twisted) way but this is an AU so yeah. Beforehand, Kokichi has a slight interest in Rantaro.

Maki|Kaito: This is a canon-ish ship that had a weird development too, but again, they have a nice chemistry too. I wanna explore that normal, potential development between them (also, I’m not sayin they’re both necessarily straight coz this is a straight ship lol).

Himiko|Tenko: There’s just… a lot of potential cuteness in them, even though they were kind of dysfunctional in canon. The fact that they’re polar opposites when it comes to physical activities gives me enough cannon fodder for their tandem. And Himiko being involved with Tenko can really help her a lot (like when the latter’s death in-game impacted her so much).

Kaito||Kokichi: Sort of a Oumota reference lol Chapter 5 gave me an inkling of their dynamics together and it was nice to see that Kaito gave Kokichi a leap of faith despite all his atrocities. So, I think they’d be good friends in the AU, just laced with a lot of badmouthing and insulting each other.

Rantaro||Tsumugi: Mastermind and Survivor solidarity~ They’re good friends in middle school before entering HPA.

Miu||Keebo: They’re both socially inept techie nerds sitting at the back of the class so finding friendship with each other isn’t far from happening. I lowkey shipped them in the game but I haven’t decided in this AU yet~

That’s all for now I guess :D I can try to make an actual comic with plot about them someday… but I can’t promise, even to myself. huhu

[toumakibangs]

This is my family: I found it all on my own. [Part V. Christmas]

SERVICE NOTE: Here we are with the last prompts of the TouMaki Month! I’m so very sorry for the delay, but I went long with writing because of work issues and after that I’ve been without internet for a while (still am, technically)! If you’re reading this, it means that he last fics have been queued and they’re being uploaded as we speak: a post every two hours, from 3pm to 5am, CEST time. My advice is to check the blog if you don’t want to miss any, because if you’re going to browse the tags (‘toumaki month 2018’ and ‘toumaki’), Tumblr will only show you three posts per blog.

Anyway, at 7am CEST time we’ll upload a recap post featuring ALL the entries to the Month, so you can browse them more easily (I’m also saving the final Goodbyes and Thank You-s for then).

My apologies again for the wobbly schedule and I hope you’ll enjoy these last fireworks!

Prompt: “Quiet! They can hear us”

Jules’ Notes: The long-awaited conclusion of our multichaptered SingleDads!AU! :D

The package that Makishima is holding hits the doorframe with a thud and Toudou hisses.

- Quiet! They can hear us!

- They could hear us just fine even an hour ago, but I didn’t see you getting so worked up and worried over that, earlier.

- That’s a lie and you know it!

- I had to press a pillow into your face to muffle the noise.

- It was just. One. Time. Besides, this is different: I would have never wanted to get interrupted by either of our toddlers, but them hearing us during this? It’s going to ruin their Christmas, and I cannot allow it.

Makishima regards him with high eyebrows and a newly found respect.

- Neither can I. Which is why I was trying to be as silent as possible. But evidently I was not silent enough.

- Let me help. They called me Sleeping Beauty in high-school because I could move in perfect silence, especially while dealing with bicycles.

- I asked Arakita and he said they all called you Forest Ninja behind your back.

Toudou loses his composure.

- That’s so lame and absolutely not true!

- Shut up!!! They will hear us!

Toudou slaps his hand over his mouth and lets Makishima take the lead.

It’s Christmas night, Makishima invited Toudou and his child over to celebrate the holiday the Western way and right now they’re leaving tiny, wrapped-up bikes (complete with helmets and training wheels) under the tree for Sakamichi and Sangaku to find, come morning.

They’re also easing their way into a relationship that looks more and more promising as days go by. It’s not the first night they spend together, but it’s the first time they do it with the kids in the house. Said kids are currently sleeping in Sakamichi’s bed (large enough for the two of them), although not out of their own volition: they’ve tried to stay up late to meet Santa, offer him warm milk and biscuits and ask him how he manages to bring presents to all the good children of the world in one night, but sleep won them over a little before 11pm. The parents tucked them in and were planning on setting up the morning scene before retiring into the privacy of Makishima’s bedroom themselves, but someone had to drink the milk and eat the cookies, and the couch was very comfortable, and they had not indulged in some little display of affection for the whole day – so one thing led to another and it wasn’t until late into the night that they got up and retrieved the presents.

The bikes were Toudou’s idea, one that Makishima agreed with wholeheartedly: there were biking circuits at the parks they attended and paths easily accessible in the mountains that the boys would have loved to ride. Engaging in some kind of sport would have done both Sakamichi and Sangaku good, and they had been talking endlessly about bikes since the time they had crossed a bunch of cyclist during their last trip to Hakone. Their enthusiasm for the sport had skyrocketed when they had learned that both their parents were well versed in the art of road racing, and held a special interest in climbing hills. That bit of information had been a pleasant surprise for the adults too, one that had kept them up over a beer or three in Toudou’s apartment one evening when Tadokoro’s sons had invited Sakamichi and Shunsuke for a sleepover and Sangaku was spending the night with Toudou’s sister. They had attested, on that occasion, that both of them indeed sported the leg muscles of people who cycled regularly.

When the bikes are safely nestled under the lower branches of the tree, partially hidden by the garlands and shiny baubles that he and Sakamichi picked together last year to celebrate their first Christmas as a family (but still very much visible for the attentive eyes of over-excited children who are looking for presents), Makishima stands up and offers his hand to Toudou, leading him into his bedroom. He closes the door without making a sound, and gasps softly (more out of pleasure than of surprise) at the warm body suddenly pressed against his back. He trails his fingers over the toned arms loosely draped around his waist and leans back until he only has to turn his head to press his lips on Toudou’s cheek and jaw, making him shiver.

- Hello.

Toudou finds his lips again and Makishima turns into his arms to kiss him in a more comfortable position. It passed virtually no time since they snogged each other on the couch, but the privacy of a bedroom awakens even the most dormant libido and it’s not long since both of them feel the need of make things horizontal and take them onto a mattress. It’s new, this kind of longing: though a late bloomer, Makishima has always been familiar with sexual urges and the craving of an intimate touch, but while in his early twenties, also thanks to an alternate lifestyle and work environment, he’d given in to all of them and indulged in lots of sex, casual and not, now it’s different.  He’s not changed in the sense that he’s lost interest in sex, but he’d had other priorities, lately, and found another kind of balance that was too precious to disrupt with flings and too demanding to leave him time for a relationship. But Toudou fitted in that balance because he had stemmed from it, falling into Makishima’s lap when he least expected it, when he’d given up on this side of his life – maybe not for good, but certainly for the time being. Toudou makes his stomach clench and his hands itch, he awakens latent cravings and sates them with an expert touch and no rush. Being with Toudou is comfortable in the way relationships while being a single gay parent never are. Their schedules don’t always match, but they do very often. They both understand when the other has to call off their planned date because his child has an upset stomach, or because the day was just too long. They don’t roll their eyes when the other ends up talking about his kid for most of the time, because they know what it feels like, needing to vent, needing a friendly ear, needing someone that knows what it’s like. Being with Toudou when it’s just the two of them behind closed doors, toddlers safely forgotten for a couple of hours, is satisfying in all the ways that count – fulfilling, even when their evenings don’t end in an orgasm. They haven’t been able to really sleep together many times, so far: there are just so many nights off a single parent can take, but Makishima doesn’t feel sappy to admit they’ve been magical. And magical is this one too, and not only because it’s Christmas.

Makishima tugs him down on the bed and kisses back, soft and pliant, and Toudou rediscovers what it means caring for someone that is not his son. Because Makishima, in a totally different way from Sangaku, rekindles his instinct to protect and care for someone else. For an adult, for an equal, for an independent human being that doesn’t really need a shelter, but you want to provide for anyway – because everyone needs a little pampering every now and then and, above all, because it makes you happy. And it makes Toudou happy indeed, to be wanted like this, to be craved for the man he is. Makishima’s hands on his body are a blessed reminder that he’s still made of flesh and blood, and that he has yet to stop giving on such department. The time they spend together with or without their sons, the laughs they share, the intimacy – he feels like a perpetually starving man whom only these things can sate. Makishima quenches his thirst and eases his mind, holds him up when he feels wobbly and shows him some colour when he feels blue. Makishima reminds him every day that being a single parent doesn’t mean being single in every sense of the word, not to mention alone. Makishima sends sparks through his body and milks it dry like it’s the most natural thing in the world, and it probably is, now that he thinks about it. And it can be even if they both are responsible for two young children with a troubled history. He sleeps better, when he does so with Makishima. He wakes up much more rested, after passing an evening or a couple of hours alone together – and it’s such an addicting sensation that he’s not ashamed to admit he’s been doing everything in his powers to keep feeling it. To make sure nights like this one can be more than a sweet exception.

They didn’t go all the way back in the living room: too risky, and maybe too soon, but they can now – and although they take their sweet time, it almost feels like release comes too soon. It always does, in their opinion. And tonight, more than ever, when they lay back after tidying themselves up (at least one positive thing about having toddlers around is that you’re never out of tissues or wet wipes), half-clothed and drowsy, they feel the bulky and quite cumbersome presence of the elephant in the room. Toudou addresses it and his doubts, but he knows he’s speaking for both of them and maybe, just maybe, he hopes that the night, on virtue of being Christmas and, therefore, holding a magic of its own, will bring the best answers.

- What do we do, now?

Makishima curls up on his left side to mirror Toudou’s stance and look at him.

- About what?

- This. Us.

Makishima sighs and rubs his face and eyes. Toudou instinctively brings up a hand to rub his arm and caress his head. Makishima holds onto it.

- I don’t know, honestly.

- Come here, please.

Makishima rolls into his embrace, but Toudou feels like he’s the one being held and supported – that’s the kind of power Makishima has on him.

- I… I don’t know if I can keep doing this, Maki-chan.

Makishima tenses and Toudou makes a shushing, soothing sound not very different from the ones he uses with Sangaku, when he fusses.

- …d-do you want to quit?

Toudou hugs him tighter.

- No. Quite the contrary, actually. Do you want to quit, now?

Makishima shakes his head, and pulls him closer.

- Not at all. Quite the contrary, if I could have it my way.

They sigh in unison, minds reeling but tension slightly dissipated now that they have implicitly stated they’re on the same page about their feelings for each other.

- What do we do, then?

Makishima kisses him, and although it doesn’t solve the issue it’s still a welcome, not to mention of fundamental importance in order to put things into perspective, interlude.

- Do you think we should tell the kids?

Toudou sighs.

- They will start asking questions, if we keep this up. Better yet, I feel that if we decide we’re being more open about this and more or less officialising it, they should know the truth.

Makishima nods.

- To be honest, I’m more worried about the reaction of all the other people who might hear about this, and how Sakamichi might respond to that.

Toudou kisses his forehead.

- I know what you mean. But it’s not like we don’t have a trusted net of friends and relatives who might have our backs and, by extension, our kids’. I can’t promise everything will always go smoothly, but I’m positive that our children will always have a safe circle of people they can rely on, and they will always know how much they’re loved.

- I really don’t want to disrupt Sakamichi’s life, right now. Or put my selfish needs before his well-being.

Toudou swallows. He’s asked himself the same thing, over and over, in the past weeks: is it being selfish, on a parent’s part, to think about their own chances at happiness?

- I know I wouldn’t be able to live with myself, if my actions directly caused Sangaku harm or distress, after everything he’s been through and after everything we’ve accomplished together.

- Exactly.

- …but I also think that kids can only benefit from their parents’ happiness. I mean… I’m better, when I’m with you. I feel better, afterwards. More energetic, more relaxed. And Sangaku notices. Because I’m better with him too. I certainly smile more.

Makishima squeezes him in an emotional display of agreement.

- If we tell the children and act transparent, spending so much time at each other’s places wouldn’t be so weird or unusual anymore.

- Indeed, it wouldn’t. Although I believe I will have to hold onto my and Manami’s apartment quite tightly: he has developed a routine and it’s given him a stability I wouldn’t have hoped for. He has improved a lot, lately.

- Me too: Sakamichi has got used to his house and his room – he likes it a lot, here, has a sense of belonging. I can’t take that away from him. Certainly not now.

They sigh again, although it has a more melancholic sound to it, now. This time, it’s Toudou who leans in for a kiss.

- It’s not ideal, but I fear it’s the best we can hope for, at the moment.

Makishima agrees and kisses back.

- We’ll make do, for now.

*

They are woken up by the shrill cries of over-excited children who just found out Santa did indeed leave something for them under the tree – and of course they have to tell their parents first, even if it means barging into Makishima’s bedroom and climbing both on the bed and on top of their respective fathers to jump on their legs until they’re awake. Luckily, they pulled apart during the night, and Sakamichi and Sangaku didn’t catch them in compromising positions.

They get pulled into the living room as soon as they’re awake enough to keep their eyes open for more than three seconds, and once in charge of screaming toddlers running around the sofa and the tree in anticipation, they do indeed forget everything about sleep.

The bikes elicit the intended reaction, and they spend a good part of the early morning mounting all the pieces, taking pictures and checking the weather to promise the children that yes, if they behave and agree on dressing appropriately they can go in the courtyard and try their new bolides after breakfast. Which is a loud and messy affair. But an extremely joyful one, as well.

They manage to have a couple of hours of untainted fun in the open before it starts snowing again, and although they allow the kids to play a little among the snowflakes, it’s soon clear that they’d better get back inside. There’s a little protesting, but the prospect of more presents to open and of a second breakfast made of pancakes is enough to bribe the kids into agreeing.

Sangaku and Sakamichi drew each other Christmas cards at kindergarten, and obviously prepared more elaborate ones for their fathers, full of childish love and devotion and, in Sakamichi’s case, glitter. Toudou and Makishima pretend they don’t see each other’s wet eyes as they thank their kids profusely and coddle them shamelessly.

Toudou has gifted Sakamichi a Love!Hime set of bike decorations and hat, while Makishima got Sangaku a baby-blue backpack for their excursion with tiny angel wings sprouting from the sides. As the children talk excitedly about their new possessions and enjoy the holiday, Toudou touches Makishima’s arm to get his attention.

- Actually, I have something for you too.

It’s a golden necklace that Makishima has mentioned during one of their dates. It’s at the same time perfect and absurd, because Makishima got Toudou a similar one that he, too, noticed during the same date. The instinct is to jump each other’s bones right there right now, but they can’t in front of the kids and settle for helping each other putting on their respective necklaces, although with a little more touching than necessary, maybe.

Then the kids stop playing to look at them, and ask about the presents they’ve just exchanged, because it’s weird for adults to do that, isn’t it?

It takes them just a quick glance to understand and silently agree that yes, this is it, because the atmosphere is perfect, they have the best excuse to introduce the matter and it’s Christmas, which kind of means nothing can go wrong today - therefore this is not only the right moment, but the one and only too. Toudou swallows and clears his throat.

- Sangaku, Sakamichi… – he starts, and he exchanges a pregnant look with Makishima, who smiles at him, takes his hand and nods, giving him courage. The kids look at them expectantly. Toudou takes a deep breath, but Makishima senses his uneasiness and comes to his rescue.

 - Boys, there is something we’d like to tell you.

[riskeith]

hihi! <333

it didn’t stay for long but then it started snowing a lot again and this time it seems like it will stick.. dude crazy how different our climates are rn.. i can only imagine how warm it is rn in aus. no worries! there’s always a tomorrow after today :DDD my days has been nothing but stressing over school and exams, watching haikyuu, playing genshin and thinking about you (sry i have to flirt can’t help it 😜) wbu?

i do have her, i meant hypothetically ! also THE DILUC COMIC IS SO SPOT ON gosh that’s so funny shhdkdhdjdjdj that happened with my boy bennett he just... can’t light those torches... bouken da bouken... 3: gotta bring out amber for that task tbh.

traveller is such a op!! from what i gather people sleep on them because they’re free and there are “more” exciting characters but traveller is a five star!!! put some respect on their name 😤 to each their own, but yk. underrated baby.

YEAH PRO BENDERS!!!!!!! well.. they’re on opposite teams and something happens at an important match of theirs so they’re forced to link up to survive and well.. yeah 😌 i’ve written about 20k words and i’m not even half done with the story help... i really wanna finish it though... anyway yes i do write shdksjdksjdk at first i was too shy to bring it up but you know so much about me already might as well.. 😶 i’ve written for years but i only started posting seriously again after years of not doing it in 2020... i have a couple out actually !! shsjdjhdjdjd not a lot of klance but some bnha ! 🥺 maybe someday i’ll share... 🥺

this connects a bit with this ^ part above as well i suppose. it was incredibly freeing ! it was actually the best thing i’ve done to myself.. idk i realized that that life was just dragging me down so much... always being connected and knowing everything all the time drained me so much. then i just cut everything out and found myself??? this sounds so generic but it’s true jshsjjsisjfj if it’s something you’ve thought about i truly recommend it!!! it takes some time to get used to the silence but god when you do it’s so relaxing. it’s like... so fun hanging out with yourself. i got into so many shows and watched so much movies and stuff by myself and made my own memories and i treasure that so much. shdhdkdhkssj this got so deep..... freelance writing do be like that. you can’t force it you just gotta let it come to you. but looking at your posting list you’re super consistent and it’s always quality fics so don’t feel too bad!! here’s an outside view telling you that you’re doing super well... <333

COUPLES THAT FIGHT TOGETHER STAY TOGETHER. yea they fucking do. look at us being todobaku kinnies... dhsjdhkshsksjdhdkd LMAO. GOD SERIOUSLY AAAA??????? wait 😭😭 venti baby is coming home..... he is coming home!! 😭😭😭😭 i’ve thought about it seriously and i’d happily pay money to have him his fighting style is just soooo good... 🥺 imagine if we had xiao and venti that would be so sexy of us. manifesting it all day every day. you know i would happily give some financial support for your xiao pulls... if it comes down to it <333333 i haven’t read anything either i haven’t thought much about shipping while playing tbh shksdhksshdk maybe someday for fun tho.. also i had no idea!!!! i’m def gonna check it out, is it on their website?

if they announced a movie and it was a prequel... i’d be so upset. like... so fucking upset lmao. there are so many unresolved loose ends it would be so annoying... but truthfully i don’t think they’ll do it. voltron took to hard of a hit for them to pull a move like that lmao .

hmmmm it’s true that studio ghibli movies end too fast.. one moment you’re like... in this amazing beautiful world and the next there are end credits. haku is BESTEST boy. dragon king.... <3333 you’re going on a studio ghibli marathon??? how beautiful of you. <3

🥺 ik but i love asking.... you know that tumblr post where the dude talks about how he keeps calling his wife ‘my wife’ because it makes him happy to remember that they’re married? that’s literally me.. ANYWAY AAAAA ! a one shot multichap sounds soooooooooo good.... i’d love to read it pls i’d be so honored. it’s up to you though i’d accept Anything i too have my whole heart open..

btw i’ve never asked but always wondered: what kind of music do you listen to? <3

*bernie voice* i am once again asking for your forgiveness. i keep sending these long ass asks i rly need to chill... goodbye LMAO :*

(‘read more’ again bc my reply got long fhksjfjds)

hi bb!

oooo nice! did you get to play in the snow~ and yeah ahah it’s close to 30 degrees rn! it was pretty shit earlier in the week but it’s gonna get hotter again for a bit. does it get pretty hot in sweden in the summer? or are you guys too close to the north pole or something for that to happen

that sounds good!! (other than the horrible thing that is school...) ahah you’ve got my heart going doki doki now please 🤪💓. in all honesty it seems pretty balanced tho i do hope you’re taking breaks from study and all!! hmm today i got up super late again and then i tried to go for a walk (it was too hot so i came back) and then i was editing a fic! and now i’m gonna play genshin bc i think a new event started, then hopefully maybe finally start studying fhksjfd

ahh ! AHHAHA nooooo rip :( but omg i still can’t believe you have bennett.. like i know that i haven’t tried for this banner and maybe i would have him too if i did but 😩😩 he’s so cute!! WAIT on that topic guoba does that too i swear i have to like make so many calculations and figure out the optimal spot to place him so he won’t go breathing fire in the wrong direction XD

i 10000000% agree!!! like excuse me they can also control TWO elements???? who else could ever 😩 i watched a video about geo traveller too some time ago and that made me stop sleeping on them like damn they did some damage!

hehehe that sounds so intriguing 👀 20k!!! that’s more than i could ever omg... sending you strength!! you’ve got this 💪💪 icb you were too shy to bring it up pls im losing my mind over here 😭 but aw that’s really nice <3 maybe 2020 did some good after all.. !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! pls whenever you’re ready i’m here... or mayhaps would you be okay with just plain copying a snippet into an ask sometime i promise i won’t look it up and try find you 😩 but i wanna witness some of your magnificence !

(also scratch that genshin co-op date idea um... fic collab instead?! could you imagine 😌)

yeah ugh i totally get the being drained feeling.. it’s like it doesn’t bring you joy you know? and you’re just still there bc you’ve just always been there and it’s too late to leave. !!! that does sound really tempting.. but i think i’m a bit too attached to the people i’ve met (you being one of them hehe) to fully let go. but if in the future i just need to take a break i’ll def do it! i was hesitant about doing that last year but now that i’ve done it before surely I won’t hesitate before doing it again (tho i’ve noticed that whenever i try to leave/take a break some new thing happens or releases and i’m losing my mind and can’t go fskjfhsd)

tysm marriage anon i appreciate you sm 😭💞 but yeah it’s easy to get lost in it sometimes but then i’ll look back and see how much i’ve actually done throughout the year and it’s like?? wow i did actually do and achieve a lot? so perspective matters i guess ahah

FHKDSJFH okay but todobaku who’s who? i like writing from bakugou’s POV more which makes me think I can relate to him more (like i used to write from lance’s pov a lot! that, and just bc we both love keith a lot 🤪) but i do write from todoroki’s pov quite a bit too.. hm. 

and yes!!! honestly if venti is actually coming back i should invest in getting him too.. he can do so much !! the only issue i have is that i don’t really like bow users bc i’m shit at aiming hfkdsjfhjsd. waiting for the day we can live out our xiaoven dreams <333 FKJSHFKJSD and please don’t give me money for that fhsdkfjs!! spend it on yourself instead 😩😩 but also real talk i wasn’t gonna say this bc i’m uber paranoid that somehow someone will read it and hack into my account FKHSFKSJD but i have like... 12k primogems rn AHAHAH so i’m feeling good about getting him! ty for the offer tho but seriously, let that go to your own genshin funds first if anything fhksjfds get yourself a c6 venti. yeah honestly me not really shipping anyone is a big reason why i haven’t read anything either lolll. like the art is good and i’m fine but i’m not invested enough to read fics about it yet fdshfkjs. yup it is! in case you haven’t found it yet, here! (i saw that the prologue alone was 74 pages and yeeted out of there hfdsjf)

yeah i think dreamworks ended up kinda unhappy with it all FKJFHKDSHFS but honestly with how they ended the show i feel like in their minds all ends were tied so the only option would be for a prequel? idk. and also bc i feel like movies from shows tend to do that ahaha. or omg a spinoff with completely new characters and maybe we only get mentions or cameos of the old ones hfkdsjf

yesss i’m so excited to at least get through the most popular ones!! still haven’t started howl’s moving castle yet tho lol. can’t wait to finally understand when everyone talks about these movies 😩

no i don’t know that post?? but omg.. 💕💕 also is this an appropriate time to ask what your pronouns are/how you like to be referred to FHSDKFHSD i’ve been using non-gendered language as much as i could bc idk what you prefer! 

okay i might.. post a link to that doc in an ask sometime soon then or hm.... what if i continued working on it instead... many different options hfskjdfd

i mostly listen to kpop!! ahah in recent years i’ve really said fuck western media and fully immersed in the asian stuff.. but yeah my ults are bts but i really got into seventeen in 2020 and i love them so much... they’re all so funny btsvt collab when HFKSFJS. hbu?? 

*bernie voice* i am once again asking you to stop apologising >:( please these are genuinely the highlight of my day LOL i am always looking forward to your messages!! pls do not chill >:((((

yours, c.r. <3

[weretigerkun]

Here’s a late post for Fic Writers’ Week Day Four: The Devil’s in the Details

I had already planned to annotate a history of me and you (Dazatsu Period AU) anyway, so here it is!

Selected lines are quoted and arranged according to their chronological appearance in the story. I suggest you read the Author’s Notes on the AO3 fic page itself, as I didn’t repeat some links anymore.

What’s under the read more? References to canon and future side-stories, a timeline of Period AU Atsushi’s life, info about the real Nakajima’s and Dazai’s lives, as well as historical background to explain several details in the fic. Okay? Read on~!

  The boy reads it carefully, attention fully captured by the words in front of him. A new character is introduced—it’s a young man whose kindness the protagonist tries to return for the first time.

A scene inspired by their first meeting in canon

Spring blooms, breeds flowers As I breed ink on these hands, Remember the shape Of your brightest smile, Your warmth in my cold embrace, Sunrise in your eyes Beautiful boy beside me For spring, summer, fall, winter— Let me taste your name.

One poem made out of three haikus (5-7-5). Except the third to the last line, because it wouldn’t fit in just five syllables. So have an outtake:

Beautiful bishie, you are my squishy.

Oh look, 5-5! lolol

“Oh no, that one’s private—for the eyes of mon amour only.”

The real Dazai Osamu enrolled in the French Literature department of the University of Tokyo but never attended any lectures. Several well-known contemporary Japanese writers also took up French Literature in their college years. I wonder why.

Instead, the man gives an awkward cough, eyes flitting away briefly. Atsushi yanks the collar of his yukata upwards, tightens it around him.

Dazai is shameless.

Once again, today I wake under frozen sky Trapped by memory But my lips warm with your name, Your body rising like the sun Like winter has passed

This time, I attempted a tanka (5-7-5-7-7) , albeit a modern and modified one.

He’s used to Western clothes, but this white suit feels too foreign, too expensive

Atsushi never buys his own clothes, so Dazai spoils him. To be expounded on in a future side-story.

“Ah, yes, I did hear rumors.”

“He’s doing very well under me.”

“Indeed he is.”

I can’t help slipping in fancy innuendo. This is how I roll, okay.

Also, about “He’s doing very well under me” (NSFW link)…

Kunikida grumbles, but a woman with short hair taps at his arm

It’s Yosano-sensei! She’ll appear in a future side-story.

…a new ballad oozing out of the nearby gramophone.

I wish I could link to an actual song from the 1930s here AHAHA (I really love big band jazz and swing tbh) but instead, I ended up listening to a bunch of 1930s Japanese music. They’re all… really interesting, to be honest.

The short-haired woman that had been with Kunikida laughs into her palm, listening in to the hushed words of the grinning man next to her.

Yosano laughing with Ranpo. He’ll appear in a future side-story too, along with Fukuzawa-shachou and the rest of the ADA. They all work together in the same publishing company, with Fukuzawa as the president and Kunikida as an editor. Tanizaki eventually interns here too after graduation (he’s Atsushi’s classmate).

He’s about to suggest getting a bite to eat when he turns and sees a gawking face in the corner—some middle-aged man in a Western vest, his hair slicked back. Atsushi swallows, hoping to shuffle away…

But then Oda Sakunosuke arrives next to him. He places a heavy hand on the other man’s arm, giving him a blank stare. The stranger looks at him, blinking, taking in murmured words as he’s led away. Oda’s grip is strong, quiet but firm, and so they make their way out of the room, almost as if nothing’s happened.

Oda Sakunosuke protecting his friends and his writer from seedy journalists. <3 Nobody’s writing anything hateful about these two lovers, not under his watch. (As proof: see “the very first article that mentions him publicly”)

One famous photograph of the young Nakajima depicts him in his home […]

Only he and Oda Sakunosuke were privy to some joke.

Wow, okay, I was supposed to write another scene to this BUT I LOST MY NOTES!! :((

By the 1930s, cameras were already smaller, lighter, easier to use, and cheaper. They had become available to the masses and were starting to gain some familiar features: an instant shutter, a timed shutter, as well as the start of color photography. Even folding cameras existed, which could fit into your pocket. I imagine Oda or Ango had one, and so they’d take lots of cute photos of Dazai and Atsushi (and their other friends) whenever they’d come around.

There’s a companion photo to the one published in the book. It was taken a few minutes before Atsushi’s portrait. It depicts Dazai and Atsushi seated side by side, with Dazai’s head on Atsushi’s shoulder, and the boy looking down at him with a bright smile. Very cute. Very sappy. Oda still has this photograph in his personal collection.

After hearing the click, Dazai had laughed and pulled away. “You should take one of Atsushi-kun instead, Odasaku,” he’d said. “He’s much more handsome.”

Atsushi batted him away, but Dazai only replied with something so charming and funny that Atsushi, caught off-guard, let out a wild laugh.

He tugs at Dazai’s sleeve, rubbing the fabric absentmindedly. Smooth and silky, dark against his skin. The edge of a crane’s wing embroidered on the side. “But at least… you like the present I picked out for you?”

Dazai’s kimono based on the Kyoto collaboration art. (1, 2)

I find this incredibly interesting, as the crane is a symbol of happiness and long life. I doubt Dazai would choose it himself (or if he did, imagine the irony), so I headcanon that Atsushi picked it out for him. That boy is so pure and loving <3

The sun rises.

But this time, there is no warmth or light. The sun rises on another day without Atsushi-kun by his side.

 No need to waste paper after all.

War effort.

Dazai pulls out a small, clean piece of paper from underneath a messy stack. In the process, he nudges the newspaper unfurled across the table, its headline notifying young men of required conscription.

Young men being drafted for the war effort wouldn’t be sudden news in 1941-1942, as Japan’s Conscription Law was already established in the Meiji Era 1873. This allowed men aged 20 to 40 to bear arms (any man, no longer just samurai) and required them to serve three years of active service, and then four years in reserve. Firstborn sons, students, teachers and widowed men with children were allowed to be exempted, aside from those who were physically unfit. Upper class citizens could probably pay their way out of conscription as well.

The real Dazai Osamu was excused due to his tuberculosis. I imagine this Period AU Dazai could pay his way out of Atsushi’s conscription as well, but Atsushi wouldn’t think it was right.

The real Nakajima Atsushi died in 1942 due to pneumonia. He was 33. I wanted Period AU Atsushi to die before he hit thirty (sorry, Atsushi-kun. I love you, I promise), so, um, here’s a potentially weird timeline of his life. Please keep your suspension of disbelief for a while!

1913: Period AU Nakajima Atsushi’s birth

1918: his first memory, being in the orphanage

1929-1931: his high school years. He discovers Tsushima’s works during this time (maybe a little earlier, maybe in his last year of junior high) and those works impact him greatly.

1932: Atsushi’s first year of university. Probably meets Dazai around this time, late in the year.

1936: Graduates university. Publishes his first short story.

1936-1940: His short literary career before having to fight on the front.

I was going to kill Ooba off in the latest chapter, but I know that as soon as you return you'd yell at me for it.

Ooba is the protagonist in Dazai’s novel No Longer Human.

He had stood here once. In the same city and under the same sky. I pull my coat closer around myself and begin walking, hoping to get home before the roads pile up with snow.

The narrator means Tsushima, and she’s not wrong, but in the tradition of bookends, he would refer to Atsushi.

.

(Making this post was really fun! I’ll probably make one for every major Period AU side-story too)

[greed-the-dorkalicious]

FMA Extended Media Recommendations - Red Tier (First place)

FMA actually has a lot of material outside of just the manga and anime. For lack of a better term, I call these works the FMA “extended media”, and I think they’re all sorely underappreciated. So, I decided to give my recommendations, and hopefully you might find something new to enjoy!

Because there are so many different works in so many different categories, instead of just doing a top 5 or top 10 list, I decided to divide them into tiers based on the four stages in the creation of the Philosopher’s Stone. Remember that these are all just my personal picks, and it’s all very subjective, so don’t feel bad or get angry if your favorite gets black tier! They’re all fantastic anyway.

A few notes first: I’m only ranking things I’ve actually seen/read/played, so for example, a few of the video games aren’t on here. I’m also not including the character song CDs (which I highly recommend). I’m also not including anything related to Conqueror of Shamballa, purely because of the amount of context required to enjoy those. My final notes are that some of these are in Japanese only, and also, please don’t ask me where to buy/watch things- any answer I give you is just going to be what I got off Google anyway, so might as well cut out the middleman, you know?

Anyway, without further ado, here’s the red tier!

The Ties That Bind (Novel)

This is my absolute favorite of the light novels, by far. In this story, Ed and Al’s search for a rare book leads them to the town of Lambsear, where they meet a young boy named Kip. Kip is Ishvalan, and lives with his Amestrian adoptive parents, Shelley and Luon. Kip feels uncertain of his relationship with both his family and the local Ishvalan community, and as usual, some no-good alchemy is afoot.

This novel really puts an interesting spin on the effects of the Ishvalan War on a more personal level, and has some interesting discussions about community and what it means to be a family. The plot gets quite grim at some points, but there are more lighthearted moments, such as some time with the Curtises, and Ed’s apparent talent as a librarian.

Art Book 2 (Book)

Unfortunately I’ve never been able to find the first art book, but I do love this one. It’s a lovely book full of full-color images by Arakawa spanning from around the Dublith arc to... Just around the Briggs arc, I think..? I don’t really remember and I’m too lazy to go check, lol.

It includes not only manga cover art, but also character concept art, commemorative illustrations, things drawn for friends, and other pieces that might not otherwise be seen by the average western FMA fan. Each piece is also accompanied by Arakawa’s commentary, which ranges from insightful and thought-provoking to hilarious and nonsensical.

Curse of the Crimson Elixir (Game, Playstation 2)

Although this is the second of the three FMA games released for the PS2, don’t let the number fool you; it has nothing to do with the first game. The graphics are greatly improved, though! Like the first game, Crimson Elixir is a story-based fighting game, with gameplay similar to the Kingdom Hearts series (although thankfully not as complicated). It’s also a great game if you’re a fan of Hawkeye, who’s with the Elrics throughout most of the main plot.

Curse of the Crimson Elixir starts out as a canon divergent AU, mostly based off the manga. Mysterious, mud-like creatures known as golems have been popping up everywhere, killing people and even an entire town. With a mysterious, ghostly woman named Elma begging for their help, and a reluctant and bitter old archaeologist named Arlen Glostner, Ed and Al are led to the ancient ruins of Siam-Sid, where a man named Jack Crowley has been using ancient alchemy to revive a lost civilization and try to resurrect his dead wife. It falls to Ed and Al to put a stop to Crowley’s wild scheme before it’s too late.

Sacred Star of Milos (Movie)

Those of you who are familiar with Conqueror of Shamballa might be inclined to assume that Milos is a sequel to Brotherhood,but it’s not. It’s intended to be another untold story from Ed and Al’s five-year journey, although like Crimson Elixir, it doesn’t really fit in anywhere on the timeline.

In this movie, Ed and Al travel to the western border for the first time in FMA history. A group of people known as Milosians live in a garbage-filled valley between Amestris and Creta; Once a great civilization of its own, after Milos was annexed by surrounding countries, the Milosians were forced to live in filth and poverty, provide slave labor for Amestris and Creta, and act as disposable pawns in international politics. The Elrics meet a bright young lady named Julia Crichton, who wants to use legendary Milosian alchemy to aid her people’s attempts to reclaim their country. But the promising technique that’s brought the Milosians so much hope is based around, you guessed it, human sacrifice. Oops! Good luck, Julia...

Sacred Star of Milos may have its faults... boy, does it have its faults... But regardless of its critical reception and its place in the FMA timeline, I still think it’s a very entertaining movie to watch. There’s a lot of fun action scenes and visually stunning sequences, and it has an interesting art style and a great soundtrack. It may not be another Arakawa-given masterpiece, but for FMA fans, I think it’s a fun and entertaining way to kill two hours.

Yet Another Man’s Battlefield (OVA)

This is part of a series of short, Brotherhood-based OVAs that give insight into the lives of various characters in the FMA universe. In this OVA, we get to see Roy and Hughes’ academy days, including how they met and became friends, and their friendship with an Ishvalan-Amestrian student named Heathcliffe Erbe.

But of course, this is the military, and it’s not all fun youthful school days. It greatly showcases the racism against Ishvalans, and also includes scenes from the Ishvalan war that show the subtleties of the war and what it was like for soldiers on both sides. I think this makes it really important, especially considering how much of Ishval was cut from Brotherhood. It’s not a happy OVA, but it’s one I highly recommend watching.

[the-record-obituaries]

May 9, 2018: Columns

Elections, always interesting...

By KEN WELBORN

Record Publisher

 Being an election year, I always like to have the chance to tell the few election stories I know--or at least that can be repeated.

Several weeks ago, I was at the Wilkes Art Gallery for an exhibit opening and there was an artist from Sylva, North  Carolina, with work on display.  As we visited, the name Cagle came up and I was instantly reminded of my (somewhat misspent) youth at Western Carolina University in Cullowhee, and the 1970 mid-term election.  I was helping the Jackson County Republican Party headed by a man known as Baldy Cagle--known so for obvious reasons.  An old line politico, cigar and all, he found out that I was from Wilkes County, and, all he really wanted from me after that was to haul as much whiskey as my old 1957 Studebaker could pull up Black Mountain.

This is the same Mr. Cagle who, on Election Day, was at the polls late in the evening when an ambulance pulled up.  An election official climbed into the ambulance and shortly returned. An elderly lady standing next to Baldy Cagle remarked that it did her heart good to see someone on the way to the hospital making sure they got to vote. Baldy smiled and said, "Honey, that ambulance ain't on the way to the hospital--it's on the way to the funeral home."

  And with all the hubbub these days about voter ID’s, I need to explain what was loosely known for years as “…the North Wilkesboro way.” This made sure that anyone who wanted to vote could do so, early and often, as they liked to say. In North Wilkesboro, if a tombstone hadn’t been chiseled for too long, that person quite often “voted” in two or three more elections–by way of what amounts to the ultimate absentee ballot. And, at least once, a van load of folks from Boomer came to the North Wilkesboro Fire Department to vote in an election, apparently they were thinking about moving to town and wanted to feel a part of the community. Conley Call, then an election official, put a stop to that one.

But my favorite election story is about the ‘64 Presidential Election between Lyndon Johnson and Barry Goldwater. Johnson’s campaign slogan was “All the way with LBJ,” and Goldwater’s was “In your heart, you know he’s right.”

Salisbury is the home of the soft drink Cheerwine, regionally popular for many years, and, during the '64 election, the story goes that the Cheerwine plant was the place to find a new “political” drink. AU-H20—or “Goldwater” as it was affectionately known. “Goldwater” was widely distributed in North Carolina during that election, sold both as a novelty item and as a fundraiser for the campaign.

I was a 15-year-old kid at the time and working at the Thrift Super Market in North Wilkesboro for Mr. H. D. Ball. I was at the Thrift I saw my first display of AU-H20, but there was lots of it available in heavily Republican Wilkes County.

Well, you know how that election went—it was indeed LBJ All The Way in a landslide, and the Cheerwine bottler had pallets and pallets of the stuff left over in a warehouse in Salisbury. In what was one of my first exposure to a clever marketing campaign, the Winston Salem Journal ran a story and a picture of the bottler’s plan to liquidate (no pun) his leftover inventory. The photo in the newspaper showed a huge display of the “Goldwater” drinks stacked in a grocery store with a steeply discounted price in big letters. Under the price sign was another one which read, “In your heart, you know it’s just ginger ale.”

He sold out.

Thoughts to my Children

By LAURA WELBORN

I recently ran across this quote and thought it was perfect with Mother’s Day coming up:

 “When My Children remember their childhood, I want only for them to remember that their Mother gave it her all.  She worried too much, she failed at times and did not always get it right…but tried her hardest to teach them about kindness, love, compassion, and honesty.  Even if she had to learn it from her own mistakes, she loved them enough to keep going, even when life knocked her down. I want them to remember me as the woman who always got back up.” Positive Living Inspiration quote

Some of the things I wanted my children to learn was how critical attitude is in life, and when we can work off of kindness, love, compassion and honesty we can always get back up with pride. I found these thoughts from the Marc and Angel Hack Life blog that seemed to hit home for what I tried to model and teach children no matter their age or relationship to me:

1.      “Your attitude often reflects a certain level of self-centered self-victimization. – We all have the tendency to put ourselves at the center, and see everything—every event, conversation, circumstance, etc.—from the viewpoint of how it relates to us and only us.  And this can have all kinds of adverse effects, from feeling hurt when other people are rude, to feeling sorry for ourselves when things don’t go as planned, to doubting ourselves when we aren’t perfect.   When you catch yourself feeling like a singled-out victim, think about other people you might help. Finding little ways to help others can snap you out of your self-centeredness, and then you’re not wallowing in self-pity anymore—you’re starting to think beyond yourself, for your own good.

2.      Your attitude is still greatly affected by old stories. – In the present moment, we all have some kind of pain: anger, sadness, frustration, disappointment, regret, etc.  Notice this pain within yourself, watch it closely and see that it’s caused by whatever story you have in your head about what happened in the past (either in the recent past or in the distant past).  Your mind might insist that the pain you feel is caused by what happened (not by the story in your head about it), but what happened in the past is NOT happening right now.   The pain, however, is still happening right now because of the story you’ve been subconsciously telling yourself about that past incident.

3.      Your attitude often reflects your inner resistance to reality. – Most people make themselves unhappy simply by finding it impossible to accept life as it is presenting itself right now.  Do your best to catch yourself. Be mindful. When you accept the reality of the moment, regardless of how painful, you allow yourself to grow and heal.  Ultimately, happiness is not the absence of problems, but the ability to deal with them.

4.      Your attitude gets caught up in fearing and hiding from change. – Sometimes, no matter how hard it is to admit, there are things in your life that aren’t meant to stay.  Change may not be what you want, but it’s always exactly what’s happening. And sometimes saying goodbye is the hardest thing you will ever have to do

5.      Your attitude is affected by your passivity and procrastination. – So many of us waste so much of our time and energy waiting for the ideal path to appear.  But it never does. Because we forget that paths are made by walking, not waiting.

6.      Your attitude reflects your aversion to discomfort. – Many of us don’t want to be uncomfortable, so we run from discomfort constantly.  The problem with this is that, by running from discomfort, we are constrained to partake in only the activities and opportunities within our comfort zones.  

7.      Your attitude is often rooted in unrealistic ideals. – Despite what you keep hearing inside your head, you can disappoint people and still be good enough.  You can fail and still be smart, capable and talented. You can let people down and still be worthwhile and deserving of love and admiration.

8.      Your attitude easily defaults to self-contempt. – Next time you catch yourself wallowing in self-contempt, remind yourself that you were not born feeling this way.  

9.      Your attitude often reflects a lack of presence and self-awareness. – One of the hardest challenges we face in life is to simply live in our own skin.  To just be right here, right now, regardless of where we are. Too often we use compulsive work, compulsive exercise, compulsive love affairs, and the like, to escape from ourselves and the realities of living.”

I didn’t always get it right and sometimes I think I missed the mark more than I hit it, but I made a conscious effort to try and will continue to remind myself to keep getting back up and not let my attitude hold me back from trying.  So having been a full time mother to two and part time step mother to another seven, an Aunt who adored her nieces and nephews, and a surrogate grandmother to many I hope I have made a difference in some small way to instill love, kindness, and compassion to others.   

 Dismantle the Occupation Myth 

By EARL COX

Special to The Record

After a recent U.N. debate that included Palestinian issues, Palestinian Ambassador Riyad Mansour told reporters: “We challenge the liars who advocated lies in the Security Council yesterday.” Asked if he was calling U.S. Ambassador Nikki Haley a liar, Mansour backtracked saying Haley’s speech was “not credible.”

With similar diplomatic finesse, chief Palestinian negotiator Saeb Erekat snapped at Haley to “shut up” when she criticized PA President Mahmoud Abbas. Haley declined Erekat’s “advice” at the Security Council, with Abbas listening: “I will not shut up. Rather, I will respectfully speak some hard truths.”

Palestinians’ jarring style aside—lies versus “hard truths” are at the core of the Israeli-Palestinian conflict. And a major falsehood is the politically infused myth of Israeli “occupation.”

Truth prevailed when the U.S. State Department recently struck “occupied” from its description of the Palestinian Territories in a 2017 report, for the first time in almost 40 years. As Trump house cleans the Department of State and sweeps out the Deep State cobwebs, Israel’s 3,000+ years of Jewish history, genealogy and archeology, and international law supporting Israel’s sovereignty become admissible evidence.

Evidence of Palestinian leaders’ habitual lying also is accumulating. It’s getting harder to be a good liar in today’s digitized communications milieu, with its speed-driven, global access to truth for those who care enough to search for it.

If anyone wonders why Palestinian leaders preach peace and claim the victimization of their people in English (to woo international support)—but spew hatred and terror in Arabic (to incite their people), it’s because the Koran condones lying as a way of jihad to deceive Islam’s enemies until they’re slain or subdued.

 Problem is, it’s harder to cover up blatant lies today than it was when Roman Emperor Hadrian named the land “Palestina” to erase “Judea” from the map. Palestinian leaders tap into this august Roman tradition by claiming descent from the “original Canaanites”–a clumsy political effort to pretend that Israel is “occupying” their ancestral land.

 But there’s no trace of Palestinian genealogy in Canaan. “Palestinians descend primarily from … Muslim invaders, Arab immigrants, and local [forced] converts to Islam,” said historian Alex Joffe. No Arab or Palestinian entity ever formed a national state in Israel, Judea or Samaria; therefore, the Palestinian Territories have no legal or political basis, said Ambassador Alan Baker; no international agreement, contract, treaty or binding international resolution exists that defines these territories as Palestinian.

 But Palestinian leaders won’t drop the hype. Erekat proclaimed at an international conference in Europe: “I am a son of Jericho. My age—10,000 years. I am a proud son of the Canaanites, and I was [here] 5,000 years ago, and 500 years before the coming of Joshua bin Nun, who burned my city, Jericho, and I will not trade in my history [because of a demand to recognize Israel as a Jewish state].” In other words, as correspondent Pinhas Inbari points out, Erekat won’t recognize Israel’s history because he was there first, and besides, that makes Joshua bin Nun a war criminal.

 But the Erekat family’s genealogy—including entries on his own Facebook page—tell a different story, Baker said. “Erekat’s family is Bedouin, part of the Huweitat clan that originated in the Hejaz area of Saudi Arabia, arrived in Palestine from the south of Jordan, and settled in … Abu Dis.”

Because the Palestinians know that historical, archeological, religious and genetic records indisputably prove Jews as the indigenous population and with a continuous presence in the land, they deny Jewish history and destroy or usurp archeological evidence and ancient Jewish religious sites.

Genealogical and historical records actually identify the Palestinians as the true occupiers, Joffe said. “The Muslim conquest of Palestine in the 7th century CE, and Muslim immigration … under the Ottoman and British Empires is a textbook example of settler-colonialism.”

 Since these truths are evident and well-documented, why are they so often met with doubt and silence? What explains it?

 Why does the EU attack Israeli sovereignty while ignoring NATO ally Turkey’s illegal occupation of Cyprus? “Where,” asks Harvard law professor emeritus Alan Dershowitz, “are [their] demonstrations on behalf of the oppressed Tibetans, Georgians, Syrians, Armenians, Kurds … Ukrainians? … Only the Palestinians, only Israel? Why? Not because the Palestinians are more oppressed … but because their alleged oppressors are Jews and the nation-state of the Jews.”

 Anti-Semitism and anti-Zionism, combined with Islam’s hatred of Israel, threaten to dangerously blur the line between truth and lies. The United States, and every nation that upholds, defends and declares the truth is to be applauded.

  Mules, dogs, and a Great Adventure  

By CARL WHITE

Life in the Carolinas

I believe if you can get to know people who own and care for mules and donkeys you will in time come to appreciate the people and love the animals too. That’s what happened to me, and over the years I have formed friendships with both.

Some years ago, I was invited to attend Mule Days at Leatherwood in Ferguson NC. It’s a beautiful place in western Wilkes County where nature seems to be at peace with human interaction. It’s the kind of place where deer, wild turkeys, and other friendly animals are not always on heightened alert.

The relaxing streams are home to an array of fish, and they may also be happy, but I think the fisherman are even more so. It’s the kind of place where stress levels drop as nature administers its therapy.

When I first visited Mule Days, I was amazed at all I did not know about these fantastic animals. Mules are smart and surer-footed than their equine companions the horse. Donkeys while often small can be mammoth in stature and personality.

Like people, the personalities of mules and donkeys differ and offer up a variety of expressions and behaviors that once you get to know them you will find it difficult to not think about them. I enjoy having dogs in my life, however for the most part donkeys do not feel the same way.

Mule Days appears to bring out the best in everyone, and even the donkeys and dogs seem to get along just fine. Maybe it’s the mountain air. Ben Snipes of Lancaster SC brought his dog “Tater” who is a Catahoula Cur. Also known as a “Catahoula Hog Dog” and is the state dog of Louisiana. They are smart and energetic. One interesting trait of this hunting bread is the “cracked glass” or “marbled glass” eyes which have blue or blue-white in the color mix.

Shannon Huffman leads the Mule Days at Leatherwood gathering and has a friendly mule by the name of “Seven” and a donkey named “Madalina” that attended the event. Both are perfect ambassadors.

Morgan Jones is the 2018 Mule Days Queen and represents the event well. Her love of mules and the people who care for them was evident. It was great to see Bernie Harberts and his mule Polly. I first met them some years ago when they had just finished a cross-county trip and were planning a trip from Canada to Mexico. That trip is now completed along with a documentary of the journey. “The Lost Sea Expedition” premiered on Rocky Mountain PBS and is now available on Amazon Prime.

It is a fantastic story that was filmed by Bernie with the gear he carried in the small wagon pulled by Polly. This is a fine story of A Man and A Mule and how they made a journey that inspires everyone who watches it unfold.

When you consider that it was the two of them and the people they met along the way it’s a remarkable story. From what I have witnessed about many of the “Mule People” They have high drive and passion and are willing to do more than many in the pursuit of a great adventure.  

Greek philosopher Aristotle wrote, “Some kinds of animal’s burrow in the ground; others do not. Some animals are nocturnal, as the owl and the bat; others use the hours of daylight. There are tame animals and wild animals. Man, and the mule are always tame…”

 Carl White is the executive producer and host of the award winning syndicated TV show Carl White’s Life In the Carolinas. The weekly show is now in its seventh year of syndication and can be seen in the Charlotte viewing market on WJZY Fox 46 Saturday at noon. For more on the show visit www.lifeinthecarolinas.com, You can email Carl White at Carl@lifeinthecarolinas.com.  

[aevasofly]

8/31 | A Reflection to the Questionnaire |

How do you perceive yourself today? Who are you?

I am a pretty simple human being. Like many of us here (hopefully all of us), I love to dance! I’m here at AU to get my degree and build faith-based relationships with my friends and peers! I like to say that I am a goal-oriented person who believes that the small achievements are what lead to success. Whether it be landing a clean triple pirouette in class or just staying awake, these are all stepping stones to a bright future. My personality when I’m with friends depends on the vibe I get from them and most of the time I just have a mellow personality.

Where do you see yourself in the next three years? Hopefully graduating, with a part-time job, and budgeting my finances to pay off my loan

What are you currently reading? My textbooks for English Rhetoric and Western Civilizations

What music did you listen to in the past month? I like to keep a good mix of jazz, classical, rap, R&B, and rock on my playlist. Lately, I’ve gotten into a lot of Frank Ocean, Calvin Harris, and Mura Masa.

What other non-arts and non-school related activities have you been involved in these past few months? I’ve found employment at an upscale brewery called Gordon Biersch in Los Angeles and a family restaurant called Ruby Tuesday here in Anderson, Indiana. I’ve played lots of video games, helped out with my church outreach program, and I just recently attended the annual Church of God conference in Witchita, Kansas.

What other interests are you developing along with your dance education? I am working on further developing my interests and knowledge of certain science topics like biology and human anatomy.

What do you want to bring to the future of dance? Lately, I have been trying to emphasize self-acceptance in the studio. I hope to stress that we should be accepting of our good and bad experiences, our achievements, struggles, failures, and concerns. We should embrace what we face because these are what make us human -- the uncertainty of the future, but the knowledge that we will have our good days and our bad ones, as well. The rainbow always comes after the rain. What makes us Christians is the faith we have that the Lord will carry us through our ups and downs, and I believe prayer is also something we should exercise as performers blessed with the gift of dance.

What research are you now pursuing to achieve your vision? As of now, the most I can do to achieve my goals and vision is to just do my best in all areas, especially anatomy. If time and finance permits, I hope to be involved in more activities that would aid my research to achieve what I have set in mind.

How will you establish or find resources to bring your vision into being? Bringing my visions to life will involve a lot of introspection and communication with my peers; discussions, sharing my ideas on social media platforms and analyzing feedback are all ways I can grow and establish my goals.

Can dance be central to American culture?  It can definitely be one of the many pillars that define American culture. Out of curiosity, I asked a political science major what dancing meant to her and what she thought it meant to American Culture to which she replied, “When most Americans dance they do it for fun -- to unwind. It’s for everyone, like even though I suck at it I’d still do it.” I agree and believe that dance is a form of communication across all cultures through expressive body language.

What changes would you bring to:

●Dance in academe? In a school setting, I feel that I should focus on gradual progression. I would like to see a change in my attitude towards improvement from being easily frustrated when I am not able to do something, to being more patient and setting small goals for my technique every day.

●The dance profession? As a professional dancer, I know it can be difficult to accept failures and struggles along the way. But I hope for a change in attitude in the professional world where dancers can love and appreciate themselves and one another. I believe happiness and success in professional dancers are easier to come across if they are active in a positive environment.

●Dance at the national level? Again, I’d like to say that the goal for dancers at all levels is to be more open and flexible with one another and themselves. We have our differences and our similarities and I hope our generation of performers grow out of love and encouragement for each other.