#I would also say I made her a bit more color accurate as well

[minty-sweet-art]

Ah yes sentient carnival minty art now with more fluff, collar thing and a pretty little bow.

Still lineless like the older one

Non sentient carnival minty designed 

Carnival au by sm-baby

[kianamaiart]

I just wanted to tell you that I love idwtbamg and am especially blown away by the character designs for aika and zira!!!!!! their colour palettes compliment each other really well and are soft while still having some contrast and I would love to know how you came up with the designs or if you don't feel like sharing that, your favourite parts of their designs and what you're most proud of? Good luck with the pilot, by the way!!! ^^

Aw thank you so much! Character design was initially what I wanted to do when entering the industry so I love whenever I'm able to do it~

I talk about my process for picking colors here a bit!

Design process under the cut (loooong post ahead)

Whenever I'm designing a cast of characters I always start with the main character and build off of them. I started specifically with Aika's normal girl design. I wanted a star theme, and the star hair was the first thing I knew I needed. With her hair being the most eye catching and important part of her design, I wanted to make sure whatever else she had going on wasn't gonna distract from it too much. So I went for a more top heavy, but simple look with a big tshirt, small black pants. Aika was initially fully blonde but the stark black pants was starting to pull the eye. That gave me the idea to use the stark black in her hair (for the bottom half)! Made her hair even more eye catching and highlighted the star pigtails in a nice way.

For her magical girl design, I wanted to make it feel over the top and overwhelming to contribute visually why Aika wouldn't want to be a magical girl. Big poofy dress, ribbons poking out every where for a crazy silhouette and tall, tall platforms. I also wanted to give her longer hair in this form so I went with goddess locs! I was able to do an easy shorthand with it (long thick strands with lil curls at the end) I like the kinda biblically accurate angel look she has. My favorite part of this design was the ribbons in her hair that make the star pigtails look like shooting stars heehee

With Zira I knew I wanted her to be opposite to Aika. So sticking with the space thing, I gave her a moon motif and that was my jumping off point. With Aika having high pigtails, I decided to give Zira low pigtails and give them a vaguely crescent shape (like crescent moons get it?). Continuing with the opposites thing, I wanted to make Zira's design bottom heavy as opposed to Aika's top heavy one, and also color-wise, go on the opposite side of the color wheel from yellow for its complimentary color, purple! I didn't want Zira to feel too stylish (she's a loser after all) but also didn't wanna make her design ugly. I tried toeing the line of out of style but lowkey trendy with the grungy skirt, jeans combo. Also went with the stark black shirt under the tshirt to lean harder into the 2000s look. On top of that it helped tie her design to Aika's more (this is where I decided the stark black was gonna be an essential part of the design language of this show). My favorite part of her design for me is the mangled ends of her pants. It's a small detail but I think it says a lot about her as a character (she drags her feet, she's a little careless, kinda messy, etc.)

Hoshi is star. There's not much more to their design haha. I did give them wings to mirror Aika's dress ribbons. With their human design though, I just knew I wanted to make sure that they'd be able to make a star shape with their silhouette. Thus the hoodie and stubby limbs. Gave them the stark black pants (again at this point, it's part of the design language of this show). I tossed around the idea of giving them eyes that matched more with Aika and Zira, but it just didn't look like Hoshi so I stuck with the same face in their star design and I just thought that was funny hehe. My favorite part of Hoshi's design is just the overall fact that I managed to make them look like a star in their human form still haha

Eclipse was the hardest design for me. You would not believe how long it took me to decide whether I wanted to make him a boy or a girl. Eclipse was always gonna be named Void (and DeVoid was gonna be Eclipse) but it didn't feel quite right. I knew I wanted him to ALSO be opposite from Aika, but in a different way that Zira is. Looking at it that way helped me land on the name Eclipse because I thought it'd be fun to give both Zira and him moon motifs (as Aika's love interest and alleged love interest respectively). Similar to Zira I wanted to have purple be in his design to contrast the yellow in Aika's design. Due to his name now being Eclipse, I figured going dark with his design would make the most sense but my friend/roommie Bri @/ghostbri (who is a professional painter/color designer) suggested going pastel instead and it worked perfectly. It matched his personality and also plays on the fact that he cares more about theatrics and aesthetics than actual villainy. He completely misses the point of being the servant of darkness. He's heavily inspired by Tuxedo Mask. I wanted to make it feel like he saw a cool character once in a tv show and he decided to make it his whole persona. So he's got the suit, he's got the cape and he's got the mask. My favorite part of his design is his cape, intended to also have a crescent moon shape but then also have that stark black on the inside so his silhouette really pops against it. It's funny bc it ended up being like a reverse eclipse where the light is blocking out the dark.

DeVoid was the easiest for me to come up with the design for LMAO. Like obviously. I wanted to make her feel slick but prickly but also slightly over the top like a lot of old school magical girl villains. I thought it'd be a difficult balance to strike but it actually wasn't too bad! I gave her a sort of form fitting cocktail dress and at this point the stark black was a must so it worked out that the "void" character would just be in that all black look. It really helped her feel slick like I wanted (also gave her the slicked back hair for this reason). To give her some edge, I gave her the giant pointy shoulder pads, giant pointy horns, pointy ears, sharp nails and bat wings! Oh also worth mentioning she's the one main cast character I didn't use Aika as a jumping off point for. I designed her to look good next to Eclipse since they'd be the ones interacting the most. I made her wings white to contrast with her black dress (opposite to how Eclipse has a black cape but then mostly white outfit). To ensure that her design wasn't too dark and that her arms would read against her body, I gave her those bright silver bracelets~ While her design was easy for me to come up with, my god figuring out what color to make her hair was killing me. Tbh I was avoiding pink/red like the plague. I didn't want her to look toooo much like Jessie Team Rocket LOL. I tried white, I tried purple, I tried a more pastel pink but none of them worked well in a lineup with the rest of the characters. Bri helped talked me through all this haha. Pink/red worked the best especially there was no pink/red in the entire lineup. The Jessie influence is still there but I feel like she looks different enough! Favorite part of her design is her big ass horns)

Finally Miss! Miss was an interesting case because I designed her as I was storyboarding the pilot. She was intended to be an incidental character that we'd only randomly see once in a while. She had a veeery generic teacher design in my first pass but then as I was hiring VAs I got the idea to cast Michele Knotz to play her and that was enough for my brain to start going and come up with a backstory for her and a role that could tie in with the rest of the cast in a more meaningful way. Because of this, I designed Miss to the voice I imagined Michele would use for her. She does a great groggy and tired voice so I gave her those tired eyes, she has a darker color palette, her posture's a little more sluggish, etc. Her design still felt bland in the board so I gave her a couple piercings which helped. But then! The stark black! I gave her the half dyed hair which worked phenomenally and is probably my favorite part of her design. It leans into the tired feel (too tired to dye her roots) and also was a nice way to get the black in her design without just having to give her black pants or a black shirt or something. I'd only figured out her color palette way later and after recording Michele. The VA announcement image was the first time I'd fully drawn and colored Miss. I went with green since there was no green in the lineup! Also green's my favorite color so I had to.

PHEW that's it! Hope it was an interesting read and look into my brain.

[kyri45]

✨ShadowPeach Bio Parents Bio AU Q&A! 23/12✨

Welcome to the Q&A! A space where I can answer related or similar question about the Shadowpeach Bio Parents AU! If you submitted your ask anonimously, then you’ll have to check the whole post if it’s answered here, if it’s not, worry not! Your asks might have been used for a future comic or just in the queue~

@boonalina ha chiesto: Question: Why does Wukong's biblically accurate form have two faces? Also, was there some inspiration for you that made you want to design him like that? (Since I know he doesn't have any canonical Kaiju form in LMK) Also also, DAMN that Kaiju fight was so freaking pretty!! The colors were so well done!

thank you!! He has 3 actually, but in the panels you can see 2 bc the third is facing away from the camera aha.

Anonimo ha chiesto: would you make a Shadowpeach bio parents au zine?

yes I would. But it requires an enormeous amount of organization, plus you need multiple people to organize a zine, from contacting, to marketing, to production, to logistic etc… I don’t have the time right now as I’m already working.

@stro-lmk-enjoyer ha chiesto: Head canon that Red Son uses/used to use the ‘rubber duck’ method while working. The rubber duck method is: when making something by yourself you may get stuck/stressed out because you can’t find a solution to a problem. Have a rubber duck on your desk just so you can verbally explain your problem, which could help you solve it by actually hearing it out loud. But a side effect of this is now Red Son will talk to himself while he works, even if it does help it still freaks his parents out hearing him mumbling to himself when they pass his room. Just something I learned recently when watching a video about writing a characters backstory 👍 I thought you might like this too! Bye <3

i know need Red Son just talking about project to a cute rubber duck and MK finding it adorable.

Anonimo ha chiesto: Will LBD come back ? Even if it is just in a dream ?

maybe

Anonimo ha chiesto: how old is MK ? Like 18-21 ???

almost 22.

@haru7110 ha chiesto: IS MEI IMMORTAL LIKE MK AND REDSON IN THE SHADOWPEACH AU??? I NEED TO KNOW!! Fornoreasonwhatsoeverobviouslyhahahahaha (angst purposes)

no Mei is not immortal, but I would guess she has a lifespan slightly longer than average bc of her family.

@cutvdo ha chiesto: When you first draw Red Son in his human form he looked small, but later he looks bigger (probably from you getting more comfortable drawing him). I like to think he changed his human form a bit because he found out MK likes big man

this is the best conclusion ever. He would fr fr

Anonimo ha chiesto: Guess you could say MK got his own personal monkey tree

omfg-

@aizieweex ha chiesto: Hey Kyri!!! I LOVE your art, aaaand thanks for the recent repost of my animatic (or animatik?...I honestly don't know which is more correct, I'm not a native speaker at all), I literally screamed, lol (And still screaming). I wanted to ask, how many parts of the comic are you counting on? Do you already have a certain planned number of chapters? Anonimo ha chiesto: Hello! How long will the shadow peach bio parents au be?

there will be 9 parts in total. I don’t know the exact number of chapters left but I can assume around 30.

@copyrightedbystarkindustries ha chiesto: Love your art!!! Are you planning on putting shadowpeach au stuff on your redbubble in the future?

Yes I do! But first I need to finish my job which will be more or less on the 20th of January.

Anonimo ha chiesto: Does MK use a glamour to hide some scars or something his parents aren’t supposed to find out about ?

yes

@twilight-bai-he ha chiesto: When you said during the livestream that MK will have a new outfit when he is magical girl, What do you mean by that ?

that he will eventually own a new outfit as “official outfit” let’s say. That isn’t his temporary fighting outfit he has now.

@magician-kitty ha chiesto: You think Mac will get more flustered now that Wukong’s more muscular thanks to all that weight lifting from the previous chapters?

a little bit yes.

@whotookfinn ha chiesto: Hey!! I’m absolutely in love with your art, it’s so beautiful and wonderful and IM OBSESSED. Anyway, I’m not sure if you’ve been asked this before, but who’s your favorite lmk character to draw?

macaque and Mk, they fluffy.

Anonimo ha chiesto: I HAVE A QUESTION! after your shadowpeach AU will be finished will you do other lmk Au????

nope.

@cjtuy ha chiesto: My question is about tang and pigsy are they married I've always wondered this

no they are not married, but it’s something they have been thought for a little bit. They known each other for years and got together for one. They know they work very well as a couple, and marriage would only be a more “official” way to show their union. It’s on their mind, maybe they will plan it in the near future

Anonimo ha chiesto: Have you seen that Brandon Roger's clip where he loses his kid? I can just imagine macaque going through that right now with mk being kidnapped. "Mothers adrenaline is kicking in!!" "have you seen my son, he's about this tall, clearly gay but we haven't had the talk" https://youtu.be/dJJUFrENZ_o?si=lbacsYlJr8XpaDQQ (this is the sound just in case)

LMAO I know that video by heart yes absolutely those would be the parents.

Anonimo ha chiesto: In the Bioparents AU, is Redson actually going to be able to court so Mk in the end after the whole celestial situation?

they will have time to do their stuff after the heaven shenanigans.

@ashmeertheimp ha chiesto: I hope you are having a lovely day/night and are healthy and well AND TYSM FOR THAT SPICYNOODLES KISS I LOVED IT AND MY HEART WAS ABOUT TO BURST! Anyway I was wondering if mk and Redson parents are gonna have quality time with there Nephew in spirt/potential son in law?

mm yes. Post heaven shenanigans but yes.

@cpazy ha chiesto: About that,

It means that Mac and MK's powers have to do with the moon cycle, like on a full moon they get stronger or something like that? And if there is an eclipse where the moon turns red, their powers would go out of control?

Yes, but the opposite. On a full moon they are weaker, while on a new moon they are stronger.

Anonimo ha chiesto: Hello! Not a question but I just love and ADORE your shadowpeach bio parents au! ❤️ Recently you had posted about LMK fic recommendations, I wanted to recommend "The Constellations Within Us" and it's sequel "Epilogue: Axis" (ongoing) by cloud_somersault on AO3. It's one of my favorite LMK/Shadowpeach fics! The writing and world building are stellar and it includes similar themes as the ones in your comic, like the themes of reconciliation, shadowpeach angst and repairing their friendship and their joint custod- I mean- mentorship of MK! It's a really good fic and I highly recommend giving it a read! https://archiveofourown.org/works/48308065 And again, love your comic so much! Have a great day! ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

aaahhhh I will definetely check them out!

@astro-nomaly ha chiesto: Per ur Bio Parents AU, what happens when a courtnapping occurs, but the person getting napped isn’t actually into the courtnapper, and doesn’t want to be napped? Does courtnapping have a “leave whenever you want” clause or..? (I love ur au akshhenwb)

they are allowed to refuse anytime. If the kidnapper doesn’t allow the he’s a dick

@thecardboardbutterfly ha chiesto: Since everyone is starting to fear for tomorrow, I decided to share my convoluted thought I got yesterday night at like, 3AM to lighten the mood a bit (.3.)~* So Technically, given that Lmk is very much based on Journey to the West, maybe it's not that much of a stretch to call Lmk fan content of JTTW, like some kind of future AU or something. Which means your AU is fan content of Lmk. See where I'm getting at? Because your comic is so popular in the fandom, there is fan content of your AU out there, which is already fan content. Which means we reached a point where we have fan content (fanarts and various inspirations of the bio parents AU) of fan content (said bio parents AU) of fan content (Lmk) of a piece of content (JTTW). The chain is GETTING LONGER BOYS. I personally think it's funny. My apologies for everyone who lost their brain/ last remaining braincell reading this x)

omg. It’s a fan-inception!

Anonimo ha chiesto: Will Red Son and MK ever have a bad date?

I like to believe EVERY date will have would be comically bad. But I think that’s because they still need to understand that they don’t fall under the “typical demon date” or “amatonormativity” umbrella. The best date they could have is just them training and having lunch later, or them playing videogames or netflix and chill.

@sollythesalt ha chiesto: Dumb question but do you remember the scene in lmk where Wukong said he has stage fright? I wonder if you're gonna do something with that knowledge…. Ps: Keep doing your magic queen we love you and your art✌️💅

oh u bet I did

[sleepynoons]

Locked Eyes

Jing Yuan finally returns from his Grand Tour, but by the bounds of society's customs and traditions, you cannot marry him. This is a romance story told through letters exchanged, secret rendezvouses, red silk embroideries.

jing yuan x afab!f!reader, regency!au, sfw

word count: ~15,300

cw: explicit language, slight suggestive content, minor character death

notes: the regency era is too complex, and i got lazy with my research, so this is not accurate!!! best read on desktop because there are some long paragraphs... would also appreciate reblogs + comments!!!

infinite thanks to @staraxiaa, for always being a fantastic and incredibly insightful beta-reader, and for watching me lose my sanity over the past 1.5 weeks. and to io, wherever you may be, this is for you. you made this piece possible, and even if we do not talk anymore, i hope you are well and happy. every day, i am so grateful we met, and i hope you can enjoy even bits and pieces of this story.

YOU HAD met Jing Yuan in your early years, by chance, peering at each other through the relentless beating of the sun’s rays and the glittering of the sea’s many jeweled crests. At the time, the boy had, you thought, equally dazzling eyes, as golden as the chains that adorned your mother’s neck and wrists, the same in reflecting your curious, admiring gaze.

Now, the gold is shades darker, matured and cured, a reflection of his much more grown state. Even from across the room, past the rotating crowd of other noble families, where you peer at him over the top of your lace fan, you can deduce his transformation, his broader, fitted shoulders and chest, inappropriately loose, long hair, tall stature that dwarfs those lingering near him. Most importantly, though, you cannot help but smirk at the flicker of red when Jing Yuan adjusts the collar of his tailcoat. The flash of color is meant to be discrete, though to observant eyes, it might as well also serve as a challenge.

For now, this will do.

A call of your name from your older brother pulls you from your watchful perch. Beside him is another man, another introduction, another attempt at your mother’s instruction. Your foxy satisfaction melts into your typical countenance, and you curtsy as the two gentlemen approach you. You know this conversation will result in nothing, but you entertain your brother and the baron he has brought over anyway.

–

You have never been the daughter your mother wanted. Perhaps, when you were once little, you were on course to becoming favored, but you have grown, enough, at least, to develop a pointed sense of your own being. Your brother says you think too much, that you are unable to see the bigger picture, and perhaps that is why your mother does not take too kindly towards you. After all, why would anyone favor another that watches, observes, judges their every move?

Even now, as she sits across from you, informing you of the baron and his lineage weeks after your introduction to the man, your mother is aware that while her directions may escape your memory, her movements do not. The shuddering of her fingers, an instinct that comes with age; the adjusting and readjusting of the pleats of her nightgown, a glean into her deep-set fear of abandonment; the twitching arch of her brow, the permanence of her distaste and disappointment in you.

“Mother,” you interrupt, “I suppose you are willing to sacrifice the nobility of our family name in order to satiate your sole desire to marry me off?”

She harrumphs. “Incorrigible.” The word is equivalent to being spat on. You give her some reprieve by pulling out your handkerchief and dab at your forehead, as if she really did. “You dare to claim you exhibit even an ounce of the dignity and lavishness you have been raised in?”

“Not at all.” You cease your acting, slipping the cloth away, and stare straight into your mother’s eyes. The briefest thought, that it is your fearlessness, a lack of tact, that your mother wholly detests you for, flickers in your mind before you extinguish it effectively. No matter. You say, “But we must not forget I still bear your husband’s last name. Regardless of your personal feud,” and you raise your chin towards her, “your husband would never allow even the likes of a woman such as myself to tarnish the family’s honor.”

You can see the tightening, working, grinding of her jaw. She grits, “You must have someone in mind, do you not?” She throws down her fan, the lacquered wood snapping in half when it collides with the ground, and rises on her haunches, towering over your seated figure. “You whore. Who is this man that you are seeing? Do you not understand what a scandal –“

You tilt your head, less than impressed. “There is no other man. That is your job, to find your only female kin a suitable proprietor. I would never do something on your behalf.”

Your response simultaneously placates yet enrages her further. “See yourself out now. And do not appear in my sights again tonight.”

“Of course, Mother.” You finish the last sip of your tea before standing to curtsy and exit the drawing room.

You pad through the darkening halls of your father’s manor with purpose. Instead of returning to your bedroom, you make your way to the third of four floors, veer towards the right end of the hallway, and knock on the last door.

The door cracks open before you can identify yourself.

“I am no postman, My Lady.”

“Oh, Fu Xuan!” You giggle and clasp her hands in yours, holding her fingers up to your cheek. “You are absolutely wonderful to me.”

“I would prefer if you kept your correspondences to a minimum. The servants are already gossiping about the frequency in which letters are delivered to me, and in due time, your mother will begin to pry into this matter.”

“Please, it is only every fortnight!”

Fu Xuan huffs, retracts her hands, and crosses her arms in front of her chest. “You would not believe how bored your servants are.”

“Well, then, I do apologize. Perhaps I should have a more extravagant fight with my mother next time? At least she might knock over a teapot or something. That should occupy the maids for a day or so.”

“My Lady, if I may presume, it seems you will no longer have to meet that baron?”

You flash a wide grin at your governess. Born in an unconventional household, Fu Xuan is educated, beginning her academics at the age of no less than three, and prepared her whole life to work as a teacher. At first, your mother was against employing Fu Xuan because you were already struggling to conform to the set of traditions and expectations she had placed upon you then, but after meeting the young academic for a brief hour one morning, Fu Xuan and her adept way with words convinced your mother otherwise.

To you, Fu Xuan is more than your governess. She is also your closest confidant, similar enough in age to understand your perspectives yet more than practiced to offer wisdom when required. Though she was shaking her head as you proposed your strategy, Fu Xuan nonetheless agreed to help send and receive letters on your behalf to avoid the hawkish gazes incessantly monitoring you, to deprive them of another chance to pierce and tear at your person.

You walk over to her desk, cleared of everything except for a paper envelope and a small butter knife. You pick the former up, running a pointer finger across the wax seal, and release a soft, muted sigh. “You have always been so keen, Fu Xuan. How could you tell?”

“My Lady, your strengths have never lied in deception.”

“Oh, please!” You feign offense, dramatically setting the back of your hand to your forehead with faux urgency. “I am always excited to see you!”

“Please read the letter, so I may rest.”

Fu Xuan pulls out her desk chair for you to sit in, and you take the small butter knife in your unoccupied hand. Carefully, you prod the tip underneath the seal, gently pushing and easing its grip, until the wax plucks off neatly.

The envelope is thin this time, slimmer than many of the previous letters you have received, and you feel a pang of disappointment, resounding and clear in the hollows of your chest. You pull out a single sheet of paper and unfold it carefully, as if it might tear and dissipate into dust if you so much as brushed a finger a degree too harshly against the fiber.

Dear Lady,

I would like to foremost extend my condolences regarding your father’s condition. Word has reached the far edges of my relatives’ stays in Bath, and when I had visited a week ago, my family had discussed the news over lunch. I should have returned for a brief stay by the time this letter arrives in your hands, and do give Lady Fu Xuan my utmost thanks. I believe I shall see you at the dinner party that is occurring in just a few days time, and, if the chance arises, I will see to it that I am introduced to your brother.

Regarding your question in our previous exchange, my thoughts on the matter vary. Perhaps we may reach an impasse on the issue, but it is an overwhelming hurdle to pass such aggressive tax revisions without unanimous agreeance from many of the other men on the Royal Council; this is hardly achievable in the current instance, and I would advise My Lady and myself to not fancy ourselves with ill-conceived hopes. However, I do concede that your suggestions come from willful intent and are what is best for the common people, and therefore, I will do my part and pass on word to my father and his heir. I sincerely apologize that that is the extent of my powers. I am also aware that this writing may be shorter than before, and I hope My Lady is not discouraged, though, it may be presumptuous of me to assume My Lady would ever have such moments of wavering.

Once my tour has been completed, I can assure that there will be plentiful recounts of my journeys and more debates to be had about the state of affairs I come across. I bring your embroidery with me at all times.

– Your most faithful friend  

Jing Yuan, ever thoughtful, always considerate, never one to miss a single detail. Jing Yuan has always been thorough, that has been clear ever since you witnessed those dense, molten golds, and you are glad that he actively reciprocates your efforts in conversation, despite how inexperienced and eloquent you may be in comparison. On cue, Fu Xuan pulls out a drawer to grab a quill, a sheet of paper, and a well of ink, setting them beside your dominant hand. A maid will come to check on you very soon, judging by the rising of the moon, so you must write with precise decisiveness.

Sir,

Many thanks for your condolences to the Marquess. He is recovering and should be able to return to his post in a few morns. I did, indeed, witness you at the dinner party, and I am a little dimmed at the lack of correspondence between you and my brother. Instead, I was subjected to quite a drawling meeting with this baron from somewhere in the South, and the Marchioness has been encouraging his affections for me since. I managed to escape the impending engagement, after inciting a fit from her, but good Sir, while I do not mean to expedite our efforts unnecessarily, I would prefer if we could bring our exchanges elsewhere soon. Paper simply does not compare to the excitement and passion one feels in speech and gesture. Miss Fu Xuan is also beginning to fall under scrutiny, and I would never put her in harm’s way.

As for my simple questions regarding the rumored tax revisions, I thank you, truly, and can only implore My Lord to use the full extent of your ability, despite slim chances at approval. I hope your travels are safe and felicitous, and do write to me next month. I will be awaiting your full return.

– Your most affectionate friend

There is very little time for you to look over your reply. Quickly scanning, you pause only for any glaring errors, and at the lack thereof, you set your quill down and fold the letter in half.

“I must go now,” you tell Fu Xuan as you stand.

“I shall see you tomorrow, My Lady.” The two of you share a soft embrace, cheek to cheek, before you creak the bedroom door open and traverse with light steps to your own chamber. You make it in time, already shuffling into bed when one of the servants arrives to snuff out the candles lighting your room.

–

You remember the soft pulses of warm wind against your arms, the crisp, slightly briny scent of the sea and sand the breeze wafted to your nose. There were many families, children and women and men alike paddling in the sea, while others lied underneath umbrellas on the shore. If there is anything you and your mother have ever agreed on, it is that the beach is truly a healing, almost spiritual location.

Although your mother forbade you from wading into the waters, in fear of the sun burning your visage and hands, you did not mind staying behind on the sands in the first place. The feel of the dirt and grains and cracks of shells felt foreign against your palms, your nerves much more accustomed to the smooth, flat texture of grass blades and rough cobblestone. The beach sands were harsh, sometimes sharp, sometimes rounded from years of natural erosion and other children’s curious touches. You also took delight in the colors of the shore, glittering hot white and beige and speckled pink, winking at you as you scoured for conches and clams. The large sunhat you were wearing kept perturbing your digging, constantly sliding down your forehead and obscuring your vision, yet every time, you would pull it back into place and continue shoveling with curled fingers, until the sand transitioned into wet, moist sediment.

Your mother could not prohibit your burrowing for she was under another umbrella with her acquaintances, and you took much delight in being able to cause some mischief right in front of her without repercussion. But more than petty vengeance, you wanted to find a memento to bring home. Though young, you were already aware of some rift between you and your parents, and you were not guaranteed attendance on such trips in the future. The only way you could comfort yourself was by digging for that perfect shell, with its spirals and grooves and gradient of pearlescent white and baby pink, the ones described in the simple novels Fu Xuan lent you.

But the area around your feet offered little reward, and you were dissatisfied by the chips and scraps remaining in your palm as you sieved through the sand with your fingers. You gave up a little saddened and frustrated, as children do before they lose interest. Then, suddenly, you felt a soft tap on your shoulder, and you peered over to see an outstretched hand with a piece of something bright and orange. You glanced up, and that was when you first laid eyes on Jing Yuan.

“What is this?” you asked, voice muted and withdrawn in the face of a stranger.

“A piece of coral,” he answered. His voice was light and energetic, warm and welcoming, what you imagined playing and frolicking in the sea might feel like.

“What is coral?” He grinned wide, and you decided then that you liked this boy with wild white hair and generous hands. He did not shun you for speaking in questions, did not criticize your lack of knowledge, did not comment “little girl” under his breath.

“My mother says it is a type of rock, found on the ocean’s floors.”

“How did you get it?”

His grin softened into a gentler simper. “She gave it to me. She has these beautiful coral necklaces, and one broke two nights ago. She and her maids could not string it back together, so she gifted me the beads.”

The way he spoke so adoringly, lovingly, about his mother was foreign to you. But even then, you knew how important this woman was to him, and you could not understand why he would give you a present that was meant for him.

“Should you not keep this bead for yourself?”

He shook his head adamantly. “I can share.”

“But this is not something to be shared, yes?”

He paused for a moment, considering his response. He cocked his head to the side, rubbed at his temple with a knuckle, carefully stringing and knitting together the words he wanted to say.

“I want to,” he decided, with a tone of finality. “That way, I will not be the only one to remember my mother.”

You would later find out that Jing Yuan is the illegitimate child of one of the honorable dukedoms. Your brother had informed you but elaborated no further. It was then that you learned that it is customary for those of different castes to separate themselves from each other.

–

Jing Yuan listens to you well. You receive his next letter exactly a month later, timed intentionally no doubt, during a luncheon with Fu Xuan. Your father was still recovering in his chamber, and your mother was away for the weekend to spend some time with her younger sister. It has been a while since the last time you could so openly indulge yourself.

Dear Lady,

I believe I must offer my condolences to both Lady Fu Xuan and My Lady herself; I hope this report is delivered not even an hour too soon. Alas, I am also deeply perturbed at the notion of you being engaged to a baron, of all potential suitors. Though I will not fault the Marchioness, for you are of age and she must feel the pressures from the Marquess and other prying persons, it truly is deeply troubling that she has had to resort to such dire methods. Rest assured, however, that I will do my best to build an alliance with your brother.

I am to complete my tour before the New Year, in time for the coming Season, leaving us ample time. I only pray that the Marchioness does not rush My Lady into another introduction in the meanwhile.

“My Lady,” Fu Xuan interrupts, “your countenance is slipping.”

Without removing your gaze from the letter, eager to continue reading, you simply reply, “He will be back in less than two months.”

I am eager to see the familiar fields of the Duke’s estate when I return, but more than that, and I hope My Lady does not take my affections so lightly, I am delighted to reunite with you. As of this writing, I have only just arrived in Rome, with its famed colonnades, brilliant masonry, and fine arts. If my travels allow, I shall ensure that I bring some trinkets back with me to present to you. I will say no more regarding my tour, as My Lady and I will have more than sufficient time and space to discuss all that I have seen and experienced in the past three years.

However, this is where I have to mark the end of good news. My communications with my father have been unsuccessful, and the revisions we have agreed upon will not even reach the table of the Royal Council. The Duke has made it clear in his returned correspondence that he will speak no further on the issue, and therefore, that is the limitation of my influence. While this outcome may be discouraging, I hope My Lady’s interest in the politics and machinations of our nobility will not wane, and I will continue to improve upon myself to aid in seeing your efforts to fruition.

Before I forget, I must say that I had arrived late to that evening party and could not identify you or your brother at the hall. Next time, I will be more vigilant. Do tell how My Lady is faring, and perhaps we are only a letter or two away from being able to speak to each other in person.

– Your most faithful friend

You do not even bother to respond to Fu Xuan’s calls for you to finish your meal. Rushing out of your seat, you head straight to your brother’s study to write your letter in answer. Fishing through the drawers, you manage to find a dwindling well of ink along with an old, ragged quill, but they shall suffice.

Sir,

How excitable that My Lord is to return so soon, but surely, you jest. Upon the conclusion of your tour, you will have met many characters of people, and therefore, will not feel a need to see such a lively creature as myself. If I had the privilege of my own tour, I know I would lock myself in my room upon its finishing for three days or longer, with no disturbance, not even from Lady Fu Xuan, to record and digest all that I have experienced. There are also the remnants of your mother’s garden; though they may be bare in the midst of the winter snow, I am sure the winding branches and thick brushes are welcoming, familiar sights.

That said, I will hold My Lord to his word and shall comment no more on the matter of our formal introductions. I will continue to educate myself, to silence any hesitation or doubt you may have of my fancies towards academics. It pleases me to know that My Lord has such adoring concerns for me, as I to you.

– Your most affectionate friend

Just as you seal your envelope, waiting for the wax of your family seal to harden, a knock comes from the door.

“This is your own room. You ought to walk in and out as you please.”

Your brother laughs, always amused at your quick wit, and pads over to the front of the desk.

“You behave as if this room belongs to you. It looks like someone has ransacked my drawers for ransom and treasure.”

You roll your eyes. “There are none of such wares here. Your most pitiful sister could only employ an abandoned quill and a leaking pot of ink.”

“But you finished writing, nevertheless. To whom may I inquire?” He attempts to peer at the back of the envelope, hoping to catch a glimpse of a name or an address, but you slide it off the table before he can see.

“A friend.”

You know this answer will not satiate your brother’s endless curiosity, one of your many similarities. “Do I know of this friend?”

“You will,” and you wave at him to dismiss his other queries.

Unwavering, he says, “I see my ‘most pitiful’ sister has tricks up her sleeve. I am eager to see what surprises you have in store for me.” You nod cheerfully in agreement.

Aside from Jing Yuan, your brother is the only other male figure in your life that encourages your willingness to explore and learn. In the first place, he distastes the act of patronizing or critiquing you, and only provides guidance when even Fu Xuan cannot convince you of your wrongs. So when he brings up the debates and discussions that have occurred at the Royal Council, you are ever grateful for his generosity.

“I am sure you have heard recent word of the revolts happening in the slums. Such news has reached the ears of those in the Royal Council, and the Dukedoms have unanimously agreed to patiently wait for silence to befall the common folk.” He glances at you to see if you have anything to say. You blink, urging him to continue. He takes a deep breath, and suddenly, leans forward, bending at his waist so you two are now nose to nose. In a hushed voice, he says, “In fact, in the upcoming Season, they plan to raise the taxes again.”

You huff, frustrated. You mutter, “Relentless, they are.”

Your brother echoes your sentiments, wearing a solemn expression as well, and mumbles, “Indeed. How cruel, too, to decide the fates of so many right before the New Year.”

“I am confident Father agrees?”

“Regardless if he does or not, a Marquess cannot possibly rebuke the demands of a Duke.”

Both of you can only sigh. Without lingering for too long, though, you rise, preparing to send off your waiting response.

“Be well,” your brother says as he accompanies you to the study door, “for I have heard this winter will be sinister.”

Rather than feel a chill in your bones, though, your blood rushes with renewed warmth and vigor. An initiative, a motivation to take action, something you have never experienced before, appears in your mind, burning into your thoughts so you will never forget. This is a chance, you think. An opportunity I will never be bestowed again.

–

In and out, through and through, back and forth. You wet the tip of the thread with a flick of your tongue and string it through the silver of the needle. In and out, through and through, back and forth. You tie a small knot at the end of the thread. In and out, through and through, back and forth. 

Stitching did not come naturally to you. If one studied the pads of your fingers at length, one could discern the faint scars of scratches and pierces of the tender skin, remnants of your debacle with the needle before you learned to seamlessly wield it. Now, after many years of practice, you have come to enjoy the meticulous process of creation, watching as each push, pull, and tighten amounts to a stroke of an image.

At first, it began with tambouring, straightforward enough for a young girl to grow accustomed to the pricking and stringing motions of a needle, decorating spare handkerchiefs and old dresses that you could no longer fit in. Then, when you received some canvas and a circular wooden frame from Fu Xuan for your birthday, you transitioned to the needle and began to acquire knowledge of the many different types of stitches and patterns. From there, your practices extended beyond the frayed edges of cut cloth. From lace trimmings of your skirt to the cuffs of your brother’s shirts and coats to the reticules your mother had long abandoned and forgotten about, your work started to resemble that of the many renowned seamstresses in town. Of course, many did, still do not, look favorably upon this talent of yours. Embroidery is considered a lower form of art, incomparable to the ways of music or sketch or paint. But, still, you seek comfort, when your mind is much too tense and worn, in the rhythm and coming together of fabric and lines.

“What is it?” Disinterested, convinced that whatever you have conjured up is of no importance, will always never be important, your mother looks outside of the window panes, more content to watch flakes of white drift from the graying sky.

You are not swayed. You clear your throat and say, “We are mother and daughter. Occasionally, the blood that binds us does show in our behaviors.”

Your mother sighs. “Out with it, foolish girl.” She casts a glare at you before her eyes flick back to the scenery outside. “I require total peace, so hurry with your speech.”

“I simply want to request a tea party with a few of the other ladies.”

Eyebrows furrowed, your mother peers at you as if you have sprouted the Devil’s horns atop your head. Incredulous, she asks, “Why such a change in heart and mind?”

“Well, to ease some of your concerns, I think it is best that I learn from those you deem proper enough. Further,” and you stare at her intently now, “your dearest son has informed me that this winter will be particularly harsh. How can we entertain our guests when we are all inside for so long?”

“Is the usual routine of games and food and good laughter not sufficient?” Your mother is fully facing you now. Inwardly, you chuckle with much delight.

You speak slowly, stretching out the silence between each phrase to heighten pressure and suspense. “Fair,” you muse, “but all of our fathers are getting older, too. See your husband, Mother, his state is faring worse and worse. Perhaps... us ladies can spend the time more wisely.”

“I see.”

All you can do is wait as your mother mulls over the idea, letting your suggestion sink, ruminate, digest. You cannot push anymore, so you bid a good night and return to your room. Even without the tea party, even if you have to bear the burden yourself, your work awaits you.

The next morning, you are surprised to find one of your mother’s maids carrying several letters outside.

“What are these messages for?” you ask.

The maid does a brief curtsy before answering, “The Marchioness is sending out invitations for a tea party, My Lady. It is set to happen immediately, a week from today.”

The outcome is even better than you had anticipated.

You rush to the morning room, where your mother is eating bread and chocolate. 

“Mother, thank you,” you say, a hand over your heart as you bow.

She huffs and finishes chewing her bite. Dusting her fingers, she replies with arrogance, knowing you owe her a favor, “I have also gone ahead and asked for layers upon layers of cotton, linen, and wool to be delivered to the estate. Let this be a reminder that you owe everything to your noble upbringing.”

You are much too giddy to smartly reproach her.

–

The tea party is loud and boisterous, filling the usual silence of your family’s manor with tall tales, news on the men’s recent fox hunts, and scandalous romantic couplings. You hear that a baron was caught with his mistress of several months. A Duke’s son fell off his horse because he was severely inebriated, but thankfully only broke his dominant arm and nowhere else. An older earl and countess were blessed with another daughter. 

You sit in a rocking chair and let the conversation float freely in your mind. For once, your mother has truly outclassed your expectations, presenting you with an occasion, an opportunity, so bountiful that you are almost compelled to forgive her historical grievances towards you. You sew together sheets of linen, piling in wool and cotton, before closing the seams. The other ladies also work with unparalleled diligence at having been given a purpose.

“What a wonderful idea!” one praised with joy. Another said you were “incredibly thoughtful.” You smirk within your thoughts, concealed by a pleasant countenance on the outside. Even the accompanying men nodded approvingly at your intentions.

At the beginning of the party, you announced to the many guests, “Please, do enjoy your time here at the manor. I am incredibly gracious towards you all for making the cold journey to this distant estate. However, I urge all of the ladies present to work as quickly yet dutifully as your hands can, for we need to make as many coats as possible. There is no such thing as too much warmth in this never ending cold.” Everyone agreed with solemn expressions before breaking for Chinese green tea, gingerbread, and walnut cake, filling the air with festive cheer.

You pause for a brief break. As you curl and uncurl your fingers, stretching out the strained joints, you glance over at a couch. In a day’s work, the couch is covered in layers upon layers of coats and thicker shirts. Some are small, others are longer, few haphazardly put together, but all will still do. Then, you look around the room, passing your eyes over the faces of all of the guests. The women, more than there usually are at such parties, sit in armchairs around the room. The men stand in between, wherever there is space, holding onto glass cups of wine and emptied coffee cans. Though you have never felt like you belonged in such groups and communities, you cannot help but find today’s gathering rather agreeable and successful. Is this what it feels like to start something and see it through to the end?

Well, not that you are at the end. You count in your head and conclude that there is still a month before Jing Yuan returns. When he does, then you will be able to see your work to completion.

At the thought of him, though, you feel a faint flicker of concern. It has been a month since your last letter, and you have yet to receive one in return. You try to comfort yourself with reminders that Jing Yuan is busy and there is always the possibility of mail getting lost or delayed in transaction. But, in that case, you must try again.

Later that evening, when all of the guests have dismissed themselves and the drawing room brims with clothes, you slip to Fu Xuan’s room and draft a quick message by melting candlelight.

Sir,

My sincere apologies for disturbing your journey. As I have not received a reply since my last letter, I wanted to send another one to let you know that I am, at least, faring well. Winter is rapidly approaching, and I hope My Lord is not experiencing any disorder or illness yourself, that is, if Rome is experiencing such volatile weather as well, I would not know. If possible, since you insist, shall we wait in your mother’s garden when you return, as we did years ago?

I patiently await My Lord’s presence.

– Your most affectionate friend

–

A knock on your window wakes you from your restless sleep. Already half-awake from tossing and turning, you hear the curt raps against the glass pane and slowly blink awake. The person is patient and remains silent, as if knowing you would require a few minutes to get dressed and prepared. 

You pull on another two layers of gowns and a thick shawl. You also grab one of the coats you sewed. Finally, you grab two pairs of gloves, one much larger than the other, and pad over to open the curtains covering your windows.

The sky is overcast, large clumps of clouds blocking the moon and stars from your vision, but occasionally, faint streaks of light pour through the cracks of the grim overhang. And right as you see him, a single ray casts its brightness over the man waiting outside, as if to anoint him prince or king or some holy spirit. His hair gleams the purest silver, and he adorns a coat, one that is seemingly a little too small for him, with floral patterns adorning the length of its sleeves. He flashes a close-eyed smile, and you cannot help but also beam at him.

Firmly, you hold the top sash of the window while pushing the bottom panel up. As soon as the bottom panel is lifted even slightly, a gust of biting air enters your rooms and flurries around your figure. You shiver at the chill but continue to lift until the window is fully open and slip through.

Holding onto your arm with one hand and your waist with the other, he helps you out of your room and onto the tiny balcony with him. When you stand, you two are pressed chest to chest, but by now, the streak of moonlight has disappeared and you can only make out faint traces of him.

“Good day, My Lady,” the man whispers.

You take a deep breath, basking in the sturdiness of his frame against yours and the ticklish sensation against your ear from his breath. “Should it not be ‘good evening,’ My Lord?”

“The day is anew, so I shall be the first one to greet you in this early morn.”

As your eyes adjust to the darkness, his features come into clearer view. The strands of each hair, the creases of his lapels, those molten golds. You cannot stare for too long, lest you blaze and melt as well.

“I will go down first,” he says, “and be there to catch you when you jump down.”

“Yes, yes,” you agree, though, not without a tinge of sarcasm. “As we have done before.”

He nods, maintaining his grip on your waist for another moment, before he releases you, leaps into a nearby tree, and swiftly climbs down to the ground. You, on the other hand, pull yourself up to sit on the balcony railing, and when he motions with waves of his hands, you take a deep breath, feel the pounding of your heartbeat against your ribcage, and propel yourself off with a push of your legs, holding onto your belongings. He catches you, arms knowingly finding their way around your waist and under your knees, as if he did not simply perform a feat of great strength and balance.

“Jing Yuan,” you gasp.

“Oh, now we are using names?” he jests. You are still too excited to reprimand him, and he laughs at your awestruck state before saying your name. He carries you over to where his horse stays, neighing and nosing at the ground, and helps you get on. By now, you have recollected your breath and can say much more.

“Jing Yuan,” you call out. “Your coat is much too small for you. Wear this one instead.” You toss the one you have been clutching onto this entire time, along with the larger pair of gloves, into his arms. “It may not be as comfortable, but it should keep you warm.”

“It seems My Lady has become quite cold-hearted in the years we have spent apart.”

“No, I know why My Lord chooses to wear what he has adorned. But I cannot have you falling ill on me. I need you.” The sound of your last three words seem to soften something in Jing Yuan because when he looks up at you, his gaze is full of longing and yearning.

“Then, we must leave here immediately,” he replies as he mounts onto the horse, sitting in front of you. “Hold on tight.”

And with a tug of the reigns, the two of you are racing through the fields and roads that surround your family’s estate. You bury your face into Jing Yuan’s back, feel the scratch of the linen against your cheeks, and submit to the roaring of the wind in your ears.

Three long years since you have been on the back of this very horse, holding onto Jing Yuan as so. Mimi, a most peculiar name that Jing Yuan imagined, was only a young mare at the time, but she could at least withstand the weight of your younger selves, quite strong for both her sex and age. In the past, the two of you often made such arrangements, every fortnight or so, him greeting you at the window as he did this evening, you leaping into his arms, the two of you escaping to the safety and privacy of his mother’s garden.

You do not know how long it takes to reach his estate from yours, but Mimi must have gotten faster because you arrive before you can fully adjust to the jostling of horseback. With a tip of his chin, the gatekeeper of Jing Yuan’s manor obeys and cracks the gate only enough to let your party slip through. Mimi’s hooves clop against the gravel of the driveway as Jing Yuan slows her down to a slight gallop and guides her towards the left side of the estate, where one can enter his mother’s garden after jumping past a few evergreen hedges.

He gets off first before helping you down. From above, you can see the tips of his reddened ears and scoff, frustrated.

“What is the matter, My Lady?” he inquires, attentive to even the smallest shifts in your disposition.

“I must apologize, My Lord. I should have brought a tippet.”

“Do not concern yourself with such trivial matters. Yanqing has already prepared warm clothes and food for us.” He sets you down and guides you to an open space nearby that is hidden behind granite pillars and dry rose vines, where, on top of a picnic sheet on the floor, lay two oil lamps that illuminate a spread of covered tableware and articles of muffs, coats, and blankets. If you recall correctly, this area used to host a small table and two chairs, allowing Jing Yuan and his mother to nibble on biscuits and talk about the day’s events during spring dawns and summer dusks.

“Yanqing must have grown considerably,” you say as you take a seat. Jing Yuan nods, sitting right beside you, and drapes a blanket over your shoulders.

“Much has changed,” he muses. “He is at my shoulders now. He has taken great care of Mimi.”

“You did not bring her along with you?”

Jing Yuan tilts his head, as he always does when he is about to tell an interesting story. “I had to travel by boat several times throughout my tour. There was no way to bring Mimi, for she is terrified of the ocean.” You perk up at and listen intently, eager to drink in all of the details of his travels.

Jing Yuan speaks of meeting the British envoys and French royals. He recounts the myths behind the statue of the Tiber. He speaks of the many hurdles he experienced as he made his way from one country to the next, once needing to barter with a driver over ten cents for an additional mile, another time having to locate a luggage that slipped into a raging river. He describes the cuisines he ate in masterful language, the fragrant breads, seasoned fish, decadent pastries, hearty stews. He lists cultural differences, how the Austrians bond over musical theatre and opera, the way Italians pore over their massive collections of literature, the Portuguese’s peaceful lives separate from war and political strife.

“I wonder how Portugal does it,” you mumble.

Jing Yuan leans down to brush a strand of hair behind your ear. “My Lady,” he mutters, “there is no such thing as a complete utopia in this world.”

“But did you not just prescribe their land as such?”

He hums, tracing his finger from behind the shell of your ear, down to your pulse point at your neck, back up to the under of your jaw. “A Grand Tour is still only a tour. One does not visit the slums or the rural villages or the dirty outskirts of cities, if it can be avoided. We will never fully see or understand how the common people live. How they survive.”

You can feel the intensity of his stare. He is testing you, urging you to look back, to taste the raging of flames and anger and frustration in his golden eyes. But you cannot, or rather, you should not. It would be too presumptuous of you to act like you still know how he thinks, understands, perceives the world.

“You are right, My Lord,” you manage to croak, throat somehow parched, despite the cup of warm milk you only just finished. “We will never truly know.”

You want to say more, but you do not know if you should. Instead, you shut your mouth and lean against Jing Yuan’s shoulder.

Unexpectedly, he shrugs you off. He even pulls away from you. Then, he taps at the middle of your spine, causing you to sit still and upright.

“Speak,” he instructs, voice low yet stable, as if he is waiting with bated breath, patience wearing thin. “I know you have your own thoughts, so speak your truth.”

“My Lord, I…” You falter. It has been a while since you have been allowed to speak so openly about such serious matters, and you are no longer accustomed to late hours past your curfew, neither of which aid you as you attempt to string together some semblance of eloquence. “In reality, I… I will never have the chance to know. To know how it feels like to go without food or shelter. Or to withstand this severe weather in the barest of threads. Or any degree of suffering and hardship, truly. But…” You take one hand out of the muff and place it on top of his gloved ones, running the pads of your fingers over the glazed leather. “But I cannot sit idly by and do nothing, no?”

Jing Yuan interlaces his fingers with yours and asks, “What can you do?” It is not an admonishment or an ironic jab, but instead, a genuine question with hopeful intentions.

“Jing Yuan.” The punctuated way you utter his name alerts him, and he tightens his grasp on you to let you know he is listening. “Forgive my impertinence, but perhaps, I have found a way. Your coat.” You nudge your chin towards his chest, and he finally examines the thick wool keeping him warm.

“Did you make this?”

You nod. “And many other ladies. I hosted a tea party a few weeks ago where we gathered together to make many. Though they may not be lined or hemmed properly, they should last a few winters.”

Jing Yuan shuffles to look around at the coat that he is wearing. You watch as his eyes dart from the collar to the sleeves to the buttons. As if coming to some sort of internal agreement, he nods and releases an interested hum.

“I wonder how you convinced such noble families to partake in charity?”

You chuckle, shaking your head before resting it on his shoulder. This time, he does not shake you off. “They do not know that it is for charity. I simply requested that we do it under the guise of my father’s illness, and bless their hearts, they agreed to assist in making as many winter pieces for the noblemen as they could. My Lord, women can be quite determined if given a meaningful task.”

Jing Yuan laughs at your last comment. “That I know well, for My Lady is a prime example of such fortitude. But will they not realize some of the clothes will be missing?”

“Oh, of course, I addressed that as well. I told them I would be sending the pieces we made to the seamstresses to get it properly fitted, which would require some time and patience. My Lord, you ought to know that, while many noble ladies know how to embroider, that is the extent of their talents. None of them even know how to put together a dress for themselves! At the very least, they can do rudimentary work in sewing together large pieces of fabric and stuffing cotton. Regardless, in the meantime, I will continue to sew as many as I can to substitute for the missing amount, and I will be sure to distribute the coats to their intended owners before the New Year. Speaking of which…”

You nudge at his chest with the point of your elbow. It takes Jing Yuan a second to react, the exhaustion beginning to penetrate and muddle his senses, before he realizes. 

He chuckles again, softer, quieter. “I understand why My Lady said she needed me earlier this evening.”

“Would you be willing to support such an endeavor, My Lord?”

Without a single word, he brings his arms around you and sets his head atop of yours, embracing you with comfortable tightness and security. “Of course, anything at your behest. Let me know when, and I shall act upon your instruction immediately.”

“On Saint Thomas’s Day. Visit as many families as you can, especially those with children.”

“Then it shall be done.”

With that, silence fills the space around you. You should be even a slight bit cautious and careful, with the way Jing Yuan surrounds you whole. You both are much more grown, after all, and if someone, anyone, were to see the intimacy the two of you are sharing, it would tarnish your reputation irreparably. But three long years it has been since the last time you felt his touch. Three years since you could feel his hair graze against your cheek, his fingers hold at your waist, his chest press against your back. And more than anything else, these past three years have cost you the sound of his voice. He sounds different now. More worn and fatigued, yet simultaneously confident and articulate. You have been deprived of his lips ghosting your ears, his hot breath trailing against the lines of your neck, each of his words sending tremors through the flesh and bones of your body. 

“Are you warm, My Lord?”

“Yes, much due to this coat of yours.”

You huff. “You should not have worn such an ill-fitted coat in the first place. It does not fit you anymore.”

He strokes at your side and banters, “My Lady, I truly do hope that you are not, in reality, ignorant as to why I chose to.”

Of course, you know. The way the coat stretched to accommodate Jing Yuan’s growth is only another sign, in testament to how much he has transformed since your last encounter three years ago.

You still remember doing, undoing, redoing many of the countless florals that are strewn across the expanses of the sleeves. The red thread is bold, in contrast to the crisp white of the article’s linen, and you remember how, at the time, you were embarrassed by your brazenness to choose such a distinct color. You had wanted to change it to something else, perhaps a muted blue or yellow, but it was too late, and you had to see Jing Yuan off before his tour.

Seeming to know where your mind is wandering off to, he says something that steals your breath and sets your heart ablaze. “I wear this coat whenever I can.”

You can only roll your eyes, and you are grateful that your frostbitten nose and ears do not give away the warmth in your face. “You foolish man, Jing Yuan.”

Somehow, his hold on you becomes stronger, and you feel as if he is swallowing you, overwhelming all of your senses with only him. “I think it is romantic. It is My Lady’s first gift to me, after all.”

That is true. You close your eyes, allowing yourself to be coddled, and think back to when both of you were much younger and even more so naïve, not yet fully aware of fate’s unfoldings.

After your encounter at the beach, you did not meet the boy again until a few years later at a party. Your parents were unacquainted, but as soon as you saw him, you escaped your mother when she was too busy meeting other guests and pulled Jing Yuan aside to say your much belated thanks. When he was younger, Jing Yuan was mischievous, feisty, energetic. He delighted in your spontaneity as well, and as children do, the two of you decided to meet up after he learned to ride. There was no discussion of details or logistics, only an intangible promise that somehow carried more trust than any vow or oath. 

Yet, he found you. And he brought you over to this very garden, to a small shed where his mother was awaiting the both of you.

You remember his mother in vivid detail. One could describe her as the embodiment of the nobility. Her posture exuded dignity and discipline, her choices in fashion tasteful and elegant, a woman of such gentleness and compassion that you had wished many times she was your blood mother as well. Jing Yuan’s mother was also responsible for introducing you to embroidery. Had she not, you are sure you would never have touched the needle and string in this lifetime. You practiced so diligently, hoping to impress and astound her with your talent. But truly, regardless of what came of your fastidious efforts, she always caressed the top of your head and praised you, repeating honeyed words and phrases until you almost believed them. Jing Yuan would watch the two of you work and occasionally try his hand at your activities, though he was never much good, too impatient and easily irritated as young boys are.

But then, in the spring of your twelfth year and Jing Yuan’s fifteenth, she was gone. There were no more traces of her, and the shed no longer stood where it once was. How ironic, you remember thinking wistfully. The tulips, pansies, and hyacinths his mother labored over were in full bloom, yet she would never see those sun-kissed petals and brilliant green stems. She would never witness Jing Yuan’s rapid improvements in the sword or your ability to peruse a text meant for grown men. She would never see the two of you grow up to become the man and woman the two of you are today.

And Jing Yuan did not cry when he told you. But you could see the sorrow and emptiness hang from him, outlining the lines of his face, scenting the tear stains on his button-up, creaking in his joints. You stood behind him, watching as he raised his head to look up at the sun, so bright and gleaming and proud. How ironic, you remember thinking wistfully. And he told you everything, answering all of the questions you never voiced or had.

His mother was the mistress of a Duke, making Jing Yuan an illegitimate child. But because his father was a Duke, no one batted an eye, and it never caused a stir, simply a passing comment made as the nobles greeted each other over mealtime before moving onto more extravagant rumors. And, as Jing Yuan described, he did not suffer much either. The Duke still gave him the education and training befitting of a high-ranking noble’s child, and he was granted unrestrained freedom and privileges. But the one thing Jing Yuan deeply, wholly wanted his whole life was never satisfied.

Although Jing Yuan was allowed to do whatever it is he wanted with no dispute, his father maintained distance and never showed much of an interest towards him or his mother. His mother had always been sickly and was often in isolation, yet despite the circumstances, the Duke only slipped farther and farther away. Jing Yuan had longed for a complete family, but to no avail. And his mother passed away, accompanied only by a physician and two maids, when Jing Yuan was away for a hunt. How ironic, you remember thinking wistfully.

Afterwards, the two of you became an inseparable duo. You visited more often, almost once or twice every week, and though you never cared much for, or rather, did not know much of, affection, you began to let your fingers linger on his shoulders as he helped you down from Mimi and to sit in a way such that the cap of your knee would brush against his. And when you were not in the presence of each other, the two of you established a line of communication via letters. These letters would bridge the physical gap between the two of you and proved extremely useful when Jing Yuan went on tour.

Aside from letters, when he was away on tour, Yanqing would deliver some clothes to your estate, hiding a bag of shirts or tailcoats in a bush, of which you would collect when you and Fu Xuan would return from your afternoon strolls. These were articles prepared for Jing Yuan during his brief returns, usually due to some family emergency or duty for the Parliament. At this point, you fully embraced the color red and its flare and passion, choosing to take on the burden of a crimson so bright that you are left with no choice but to ensure that every stitch is perfect. You adorned his clothes with the subtlest of details, only meant to elevate them around the collar or cuffs or pockets.

And that is how those three years passed. Now that he is beside you, the time apart feels both painfully enduring yet incredibly effortless. Though he was not by your side, it never felt like he was far away, definitely not across oceans and mountain ranges and plains with names you have never heard of. Regardless, all that matters is, in the present moment, Jing Yuan is truly here, and you are with him.

–

The events leading up to Christmastide and the holiday itself flurried by. As planned, Yanqing had come to collect the coats you and Fu Xuan had left in bags behind a bundle of trees, and on Saint Thomas’s Day, Jing Yuan went out to deliver them, spending the day outside and reporting to you promptly when he returned home later that night. Through the grapevine, you heard of the countless praises the nobles showered upon Jing Yuan and his father, and from Jing Yuan himself, many of the common folk were at a loss for words, shocked that the son of a Royal Council member would dare to tread into their territory.

The end of such festivities also signaled the beginnings of the new Season. January was spent preparing the finest laces, silks, ribbons, jewelries you would be donning at the never ending series of parties, picnics, hunts, and other gatherings for the next few months. This time, though, you were eager, hounding all of the maids, Fu Xuan, even your mother to assist in the wake of your unprecedented enthusiasm.

Presently, you are en route to your first ball. You and your mother are in a coach, while your brother rides on horseback. It is dark outside and the snow is incessant, but the ambience is full of excitement, the hopeful chattering between young ladies and lords, as well as the charming music from the band playing inside, drowning out the howls of the wind. As your party nears the assembly room, you can clearly see the size of the gathering, dozens of middle- and upper-class families present and attendants rushing about to answer calls for help.

Your coach stops near the edge of the driveway, and your brother takes your hand as you step out.

“I heard from Mother that you were fervently awaiting today,” he says with a smirk, brushing off the snowflakes collecting on your shoulders. “This is your third season, so what could possibly be so unique about tonight’s party?”

You open your fan, concealing everything below your eyes, and shrug. Behind the fan’s ribs, though, you are smiling widely, unable to feign even an ounce of indifference.

“I simply hope this is your sister’s final season,” your mother remarks as she exits the carriage.

As soon as the three of you step into the hall, your brother is hounded with warm greetings and impatient requests. Your father had fallen ill once again, and given his series of absences, many have turned towards your brother as the patriarch of the family.

“I shall tend to these matters. Do enjoy your time, dear Sister!” your brother calls as he gets pulled away.

You and your mother walk over to a group of ladies, many of whom attended your tea party and took part in your ambitious project. One lady in a pale pink gown, in particular, seems to be at the centre of the conversation, as all the rest are peering at her with palpable expectation. You can hear bits and pieces of the conversation as you approach.

Another in tea green pokes at her. “Miss, please share! We are begging you to tell us how!”

The lady blushes deeply, fanning at herself. “Friends, there is no how! I simply met the man at a closed gathering the week before.”

“What is his demeanor?”

“Is he of your rank or above?”

“Have you garnered affections for him yet?”

Questions are flung at her, and she simply responds by closing her fan and tapping at one of her cheeks at each query.

When the arguably most important question is asked, whether or not she wants to be engaged to the man, she places the tip of her fan against her right cheek, and everyone breaks into surprised gasps and delighted murmurs.

Then, as if staged, the music in the room diminuendos until the band tapers into silence. There is a brief shuffling of sheet music before the musicians break into the first country song of the evening. A gentleman comes over, a son of an earl from a glance, and bows in front of the lady in the pink, holding his right hand out in search of her left. The other ladies, you and your mother included, watch with intent and rapture, and follow the extension of her elbow as she lets herself be taken. As the pair slip away, mutterings break between the remaining women before they, too, are asked, one by one, to dance with other single gentlemen.

As usual, you excuse yourself to the corner of the ballroom, finding a seat that ensures an adequate view of the dancing attendees. There are rumors that you do not participate because you are not well-trained, but truly, it is only because you have very little interest in dancing with men you have never met before. 

From here, you can observe the subtlest of details without disturbance. You notice a younger boy slip into the room with refreshments, bound to gorge himself on bread and butter even though dinner is scheduled in two hours or so. An old couple stands at the tailend of the dancing line, half a beat behind everyone else, chuckling to themselves as they attempt to keep up with the steps they know by heart. The mothers of many of the debutantes are lined against the walls, their eyes not on their respective daughters but rather on the many potential suitors in the room, cherry picking the perfect son-in-law. 

And then, a flash of red. You see it at the edge of your periphery, and your head whips to the left. You do not see the red again, but instead, a dense cloud of white. You are about to leap up and pace forward, but you catch yourself and hurry to rearrange your expression to one that is more neutral and acceptable.

Jing Yuan comes to stand before you, followed by your brother.

The latter says, “Dear Sister, this is Lord Jing Yuan.”

You bite at your lip to prevent yourself from reacting to the comedy of the situation, and curtsy towards Jing Yuan as he bows to you.

“Pleased to be in your presence, My Lord.”

“I should be thanking My Lady.”

Your brother chuckles. “The two of you are too stiff. Sister, Lord Jing Yuan has just returned from his Grand Tour and is the son of Duke…,” and he prattles on, listing facts and details you are already aware of. Jing Yuan is also amused and glances at you every so often, but you avoid returning such stares and focus your attention on the sound of your sibling’s voice.

However, soon thereafter, the Master of Ceremonies interrupts all activities, including your trio’s brief exchange, and calls for mealtime. Jing Yuan dismisses himself, returning to his step-brother’s side.

Suddenly, your brother grabs you by the shoulder. Your eyes widen in surprise, and you shake your arm in response, urging him to loosen his grip.

“What a miracle!” he exclaims. You furrow at him with confusion. “Sister! Lord Jing Yuan himself rushed to greet you. That is unheard of!”

It takes you a second to understand, to remember that there are customs and traditions in society’s place, and the oddity of the situation finally dawns on you. “Brother,” you respond, “tell me how you encountered him.”

“Well, I paid the Duke, his father, a quick greeting on behalf of our family, and Lord Jing Yuan was there as well. When I was about to take my leave, he followed after me, and asked if I had any time. Can you believe it? He asked if I had time!”

“Yes, yes, please proceed.”

“I was worried I had done something imprudent in front of him and the Duke. I began saying a flurry of things, but he simply asked if I knew of any ladies that are seeking engagements, as he is in a rush to get married himself. I should have asked why –”

“Brother.”

“Ah, dismiss that thought. Anyway, of course, I had to say that you are of age, and he requested I direct him to you. I resisted, because as our father is only a Marquess and him a part of a Dukedom, it is only proper that I bring you to him, but he said he needed to be somewhere quieter and hurried us off.”

Your brother takes a deep breath and waits for your response. With much effort, you remain stoic.

“How peculiar,” you muse, with as even a tone as you can muster.

“Dear Sister, perhaps…” The two of you share a quick look, his expectant, yours knowing.

After a lingering moment of silence, you can only sigh. “We shall see.”

Ecstatic, your brother takes your shoulders with renewed vigor, lightly shaking you back and forth. “How auspicious! Of course, I will miss you, but Sister, you would be much happier away from our estate! You must seize this chance!”

You go along with his antics and incessant chattering, making slow progress towards the dining hall.

–

The third month of the year promises a multitude of changes. Primarily, fox hunting ends in March, therefore the men are rushing to organize their final hunts. As the men are occupied during their outings, the women pass their leisure time inside, rather impatiently, too, for Easter and the height of the Season, which will be at full throttle within a few weeks’ time. For noblewomen in particular, they also have the option to accompany the hunts, and on this late morning, you and your mother stay in a carriage to support the participants from afar.

Today’s hunt is small, exclusive to a few select Dukes and Marquesses of the nobility. Your father, now recovered, and your brother are present, and you notice Jing Yuan and his step-brother are also members among the group. 

Truly, Jing Yuan stands out amongst the crowd. Again, you are reminded of his towering and broad stature, and even when he is not speaking, he carries a solid aura of authority and a command for respect such that the other attendants do not dare to mention, let alone mock, his birthright. At the moment, he is running his hands through Mimi’s mane, and even his trust and care for her alone are superior to the mediocre handle the other men have of their horses.

The hunters seem to be strategizing, plotting out routes and dividing themselves into smaller groups, and with each passing second, your interest dampens, and it seems your mother is also growing disinterested.

With a flick of her wrist, glass-beaded bracelets clinking and clanking, she speaks, “The white-haired man, is it?” 

You nod.

She huffs through her nose, but she is not unhappy. She is silently beckoning you to question her.

And so, you inquire, “Mother, what are your judgments of Lord Jing Yuan?”

She leans towards the window and narrows her eyes. “A man of benevolent nature… Quite handsome as well… But a bastard child, is he not?”

You shrug. “What does it matter? His father is a Duke.”

“It does not change that he is born from the womb of a wicked woman.”

A striking flash of anger and urgency erupts in your gut, and you are close to hurtling uncouth insults at the woman sitting before you, but there is no need because your mother finishes her thought before your outburst can materialize.

“That brings me great pleasure,” the absurd woman says, with a twisted snark, “for you do not deserve happiness in your marriage. While I may be gone, misfortune shall always befall you. You will always suffer from your ill nature.”

Without a word, you swing the door of the carriage open and step out, in need of space. You strut to a group of barren trees, sparkling with melting dew, and lean against the trunk of one, looking off at where the hunters and their hounds are racing after the scent of foxes.

The biting cold does nothing to cool your raging internal heat. The echoes of your mother’s spiteful words act as fuel, a permanent well of dark, staining oil, spinning and stubborn in your mind. In fact, you become more bitter and sensitive at their persistence, and if anyone were to say one wrong phrase or make one wrong move towards you at this very instance, they would, for sure, catch your ire. 

How dare she. Even in your most distant memories, the thought of Jing Yuan’s mother brings warmth, a tight embrace, an affirming kiss on your forehead. In comparison, your own blood parents have done nothing more than bring you into this world. Even the jewels, fabrics, food, shelter they provide you are done out of obligation; given the option, they would abandon you without hesitation.

The taste of acid and iron surprises you. You are usually tame, capable of extinguishing any sign of anger or disappointment, so to find yourself so outraged that you have bitten open the inside of your cheek serves to worsen your temperament. You refuse to let that woman, only bound to you by blood and flesh, grate at your nerves, but it seems, this time, she has poked at your most sensitive vulnerability.

Suddenly, a loud neigh from a horse rings through the field, and you turn your head just in time to see Jing Yuan, a crumpled body, and Mimi leap through the air and land near you.

“Jing Yuan!” you cry, hands clutching at the sides of your skirt, annoyance and frustration set aside.

He tugs at Mimi sternly, and with a kick of her front legs, she rears to a halt. You rush over as Jing Yuan hops down with a man on his back, the latter wearing a deep-set frown and releasing low groans.

“What happened? Someone, please –”

Jing Yuan intervenes with a call of your name, shaking his head. “No need for your people. I shall bring the Marquess to his carriage and stay with him till he reaches his estate.”

You could care less about the injured man. “And what about you? Are you injured, Jing Yuan?”

He nods. Then, under his breath, he mutters, “Careful, for we are being watched. But thank you.” Something in his eyes glitter, a light diamond yellow, a new color so beautiful and mesmerizing. You force yourself to tear your gaze away. “I am fine, My Lady. Please, take care.”

You clamp your mouth shut. With that, he paces away, doing his best to carry the injured Marquess steadily.

You do not see him again for the rest of the day. But his heroics, over the course of an evening, become the talk of the town.

Two days pass, and for the first time, Jing Yuan and you meet during the daytime, accompanied by Fu Xuan. A nearby promenade has been kept cleared, as more and more folks spend time outside, and it is only proper that the two of you extend your public interactions beyond simple greetings, primarily to discourage and drive away any suitors who still retain hopes in having your or Jing Yuan’s hand.

“My Lord has certainly come under scrutiny,” you say, playful and amused in tone.

“Ah, the nobles do love their entertainment, I suppose.”

“Do not be so bashful, My Lord! I have heard of everything, and what you did during the hunt is truly an accomplished feat.”

“Tell me, then, My Lady, what you have heard.”

You switch your parasol to your other shoulder and tilt it up so that you can better see in front of you. There are other prospective couples, as well as their respective chaperones, but all eyes seem to be on you and Jing Yuan. With no fan in hand, it is difficult to signal to your partner, but he, too, already seems aware of the prying stares.

You begin to tell, “I much prefer the noble ladies and their recollections. Their recountings began before the hunt even started.

“You were steering the conversation, as if you were a general and the others your cavalrymen, planning every possible move and route.”

Jing Yuan stifles his fit of laughs with the back of his hand, and you do as well.

Resuming, you say, “Then, the group broke into partitions of four or five men each. The hunt seemed already destined and fated for success, with you in charge. However, many of the noblemen are elderly, yes? So as you and Mimi galloped so freely under the blue sky, the other men in your group struggled to keep up, and one Marquess with very little talent in horseback did not jump over a jutting root in time and came tumbling down with his English thoroughbred.”

Jing Yuan claps when you finish. “I am surprised you know what a thoroughbred is, My Lady.”

“I do not. To me, a horse is simply a horse. But, more importantly, what does My Lord think of my rendition?”

You glance up, only to see that he is watching you, and immediately, you turn your cheek the other way.

“I think,” he muses, “that My Lady is an excellent bard.”

“A bard?” You feign shame, because you already know how hyperbolic the noblewomen are in their gossiping.

“Indeed.” He continues to tease. “My Lady seems unmatched in her lyricism, rhythm, and most importantly, exaggerations. A true bard in nature.”

You cackle out loud, at which Fu Xuan shoots you a swift glare. You calm yourself and ask, “Exaggerations? A bard only makes songs of tales they hear from their journeys. My Lord, then, must tell the truth himself, as he is the protagonist of this one.”

“It pains me to say, then, that the story would no longer be as interesting.”

“My Lord does not aspire to be a bard or a court jester, so please speak.”

He sighs. “I did no such leading or commandeering. I simply listened from the side. Though the noble ladies are not wrong that it was an older Marquess who felled, it was not due to his own carelessness. Rather, one of the younger hounds must have caught the trail of a fox, and ran in front of the Marquess and his horse. His Lord was only trying to protect the little one, but injured himself in the process. I happened to be riding behind the Marquess and assisted him in returning him home.”

Jing Yuan, ever observant, always humble. You do not know if he is dismissing the finer details of his saving the Marquess, but you cannot even pinpoint where to press him further.

You settle with a simple platitude. “My Lord’s kindness knows no bounds.”

He does not say anything, only closes his eyes and takes a deep breath of the winter-spring air.

“What plagues My Lord?”

“My Lady, tell me another story, one from your childhood.”

You still, and he takes two steps forward before he pauses as well.

You turn around to face your governess. “Fu Xuan, shall the three of us sit somewhere?”

“Yes, My Lady,” Fu Xuan replies. “There is a bench around the bend.”

Between you and Jing Yuan, neither of you speak until you both sit down. Fu Xuan finds another spot, a shady patch underneath an old willow, to supervise from afar.

Your bench is located beside a fountain, a large stucco vase with carved borders, emblems of flowers and reeds, gilded bronze around the circumference of the bottom. The water splashes past the rim, wetting the surrounding pavement, amusing the toddlers that belonged to some of the lounging women.

It is not rare for Jing Yuan to ask about yourself, to request to learn more about who you are in the moments when he is not by your side. While it is not always enjoyable, especially when you reflect on the less joyous memories, you do like that he is the only person in the world that knows so much about you, your strengths, weaknesses, likes, dislikes, fancies, displeasures.

But on occasion, he asks you to share because he does not want to speak about himself anymore. Today, as you judge the crease between his brows, the white of his knuckles, his hair free of its usual braided cord, this seems to be the case.

You speak of the many sleepless nights you had in December, how you had pricked the pads of your fingers several times from trying to sew by dim candlelight, hurrying to finish as many coats as possible, lest the noblewomen became suspicious. You speak of the shelf of books your brother had lent you when you were only ten years of age. You finished the literature within a fortnight, and your sibling was shocked, jaw agape, from your intellect and efficiency. Lastly, you speak of the morning of Jing Yuan’s departure, how you refused to come out of your room because of how distraught you were from bidding goodbye, needing to lie to the maids that your tears were only a result of a gut-wrenching stomach ache.

The entire time, the two of you sit side by side, shoulders brushing against each other, staring straight ahead, never at each other. But you do not need to see to know that he is listening with rapt intent to each and every one of your words, and you feel empowered to continue and please him with whatever he wants to hear.

Many hours pass, from high noon to late afternoon, finishing well past lunchtime. The atmosphere has relaxed, and Jing Yuan himself seems more at peace, and you are grateful that you have an eternity to indulge him.

When the three of you retrace your steps back to your family’s coach, he grips onto your hand as he assists you into the vehicle. His grip is tight, restricting you from sitting down, and you glance over your shoulder to see him resting his forehead against the back of your hand, nose brushing against your fingertips.

“A fortnight,” he mutters, loud enough for only the two of you, and promptly releases his hold.

You bring your hand, the one Jing Yuan held moments ago, to your cheek, basking in his lingering, escaping warmth, and nod in understanding.

You repeat, “A fortnight,” and he closes the coach door behind you.

– 

It is uncharacteristically cold for April. Frost forms a thin sheet over all of the foliage and herbage, the rabbits and woodchucks still slumber in their dense burrows, the moon silvery and thin in its wake.

You tuck yourself into Jing Yuan’s hold, where he sits behind you with his legs propped on either side of your figure. He grabs another blanket and lays it over your knees down to your feet, and sets his chin on your shoulder.

“I wish your mother’s shed was still here,” you admit through gritted teeth.

A little sleepily, he agrees. “I, as well, but please bear with our conditions for tonight.”

You are grateful, though. The worst of winter is past, and there are no clouds to conceal the stars or moon, meaning outside, you can make out his features and expressions with little effort. Before, you would have to strain and squint at his visage, but there is no need anymore and you think Jing Yuan appears softer, younger under the placid moonlight.

“My Lady,” he says, “if it is not inconvenient, I have an inquiry to make.”

“Yes? What is it?”

“Why is it that you never look at me?”

You startle, jumping in your skin, not expecting such a jarring interrogation at this hour and place.

“Of course, I look at you. What can you possibly be insinuating?”

If you sound offended, you do not mean it. Rather, you are, to a minor degree, disgruntled at being caught. Internally, you have been well aware of your sudden shyness towards Jing Yuan. Before his departure, you had no such fears, but since his return, upon seeing all of the ways in which he has transformed and grown, you can no longer allow yourself to be so bold. You cannot look at him with wholly pure intent.

“Apologies. I meant that My Lady does not seem to look me in the eyes anymore, as we used to. Have I done or said something to deserve such avoidance?”

“Do not be foolish, My Lord.”

“And what is with the use of ‘My Lord’?”

“Do you not refer to me by ‘My Lady’?”

“Only because you seem so insistent on such etiquette. If I had a choice…” He takes a sharp inhale. “I would call you by your name all the time.”

The chill of the atmosphere does not seem so acute anymore. You feel a rush of heat, from the crown of your head all the way down to the lengths of your toes.

“How improper,” you mumble.

He laughs. He knows you could care less.

To drive his point further, he enunciates your name, rolling the letters and phonetics out with the curve of his tongue and a caramel sweet, taffy-stretched tone. He then whispers, “You seem to only use my name when you are quite agitated or excited.”

You swat at his arm. “Jing Yuan!”

Your reaction causes him to bark out true laughs, ones from the gut and stomach, and he nuzzles his face into the side of your neck. You want him to press further into you, to bite and nibble and mark at the tender skin, to meld into you so you always have him with you. You need more of him, all of him. Being by his side as a confidant in public, a lover in private, for eternity will never satiate your greed.

“My Lady, you never cease to entertain me! You are absolutely darling.”

“You are totally arrogant.” You shrug his head off of your shoulders, to your own disdain, only for him to place his chin on top of your head, entrapping you once again.

“My Lady, I believe I am not so arrogant. Rather, my actions are demonstrations of my affections for you, and the latter seems to grow at an astounding rate with every moment we spend together.”

He utters your name again, so sincere, full of unconditional respect. This time, you are forced to look at him, scooting yourself forward and twisting your back halfway around to soak in those melting, incandescent golds, brimming and spilling over with unfiltered love, loyalty, trust. You cease, completely bewitched and spellbound.

Slowly, he leans forward until the peaks of your foreheads touch. He is still staring at you, you are still unable to breathe. His hands have come up to cup your cheeks, and by sheer instinct, yours grasp weakly at his sleeves.

“Finally,” he breathes, “you are looking at me.”

Shuddering, you try to nod, but his hands keep your head in place. Regardless, he knows.

Jing Yuan, ever knowing, always understanding. He can see through you at all times, and you do not mind that it is him. In fact, you want it to be him, always him, and you have been waiting for this moment. Since you saw him on that sandy beach, with the orange coral bead and crystal clear waters and damp earth. Since you saw him standing alone in the garden, his back turned to you, tearless yet grief incarnate. Since these three long years, where he was seas and mountain ranges and plains separated from you, only brief moments of respite when he would return for business, yet never to interact.

You, who have waited this entire time, can finally see him again. You have no reason to disallow yourself. You have an eternity to indulge him, and an even longer infinity to indulge yourself in him.

The oil lamps flicker no more. The hawks and owls no longer cry. The vines and stems of the flora no longer sway in the wind. 

The only movement is from Jing Yuan, when he purses his lips and takes a deep breath.

He whispers your name, as if it is a prayer, an oath, full of promise and reverence. He says it once more, twice more. Then, he closes his eyes briefly before looking up at you again, a fire and determination now smoldering in bright gold.

“I have kept you, yet you have patiently, without any complaint or excuse, waited for me. You, the only person in the world who has witnessed me a mischievous child, a brooding boy, and now, an older man. I cannot fathom being with another, and this has been true since I first met you.”

You can only gulp, and staring wide-eyed, anticipate his next words.

“You cannot imagine how many times I begged my mother for permission to visit you during the day. At the time, I could not understand her unshakeable refusal, and even now, I am still resistant in some ways. Did you know I became jealous of my mother? I have never been adept with delicate work, and at one point, I was convinced you only came so you could sew with her. I would leave the shed to shake off my anger with the sword. And then my mother was gone, and I thought you, too, would disappear. But, of course, in light of all of my deepest fears, you stayed.”

There are traces of tears in his eyes, but he is more preoccupied with brushing away the ones that stream down your face. You do your best to cease the trembling of your lower lip, the blur of your vision, the cries that threaten to spill out. 

“I was frightened once again, when my father announced the beginning of my Grand Tour. I knew you would come of age as soon as I was scheduled to leave, and I wanted to propose right then and there. But my father does not know who you are, and not even the illegitimate child of a Duke could get away with marrying someone of a lower caste. A coward I was, am, indeed. Yet, we maintained correspondence, and we wrote to each other at length. Many times, I wanted to abandon my Tour, but your curiosity and eagerness convinced me otherwise. 

“It has always been because of you. I am who I am today because of you and your endless affections. And it is my turn, now, to let you know that my love for you goes beyond words and actions. My existence is solely yours.

“May I?”

You nod vigorously, desperately, longingly.

He presses tender kisses to the apples of your cheeks, the tip of your nose, the corners of your lips. After, he takes your hands in his palms and kisses at your wrists and knuckles and joints and fingertips.

Finally, he sits up, and you raise your chin to follow his eyes.

He says your name, this time firm, grounded, determined. “I love you. Please, let us never part again.”

–

The Season has reached its peak, and at long last, June permits enduring hours of sunlight, hot, humid evenings, a myriad of blossoms of all distinct shades and colors. Your brother guides you into the ballroom, your mother trailing behind the two of you, feathered fan concealing her rather displeased disposition.

“I still cannot believe it,” he gasps with incredulous wonder.

“No? Will I have him come to ask for your permission again?” you reply, indifferent, more concerned with identifying Jing Yuan amongst the crowded halls.

“No, no, no need for that, Sister! I am, well, rather, well –”

“See, Brother! There he is!”

Adorned in a handsome cream ensemble, Jing Yuan stands near a table of refreshments, collecting two glasses, one of which you presume is yours. You rush to his side, your brother in tow, and curtsy when he notices. And, as you suspected, he bows and hands one of the cups over to you and the other to your brother, already turning around to grab another for your mother.

Your brother takes a nervous sip before exclaiming, “Lord Jing Yuan! Good evening!”

“Good evening!” Jing Yuan greets, festive and light-hearted.

“I wanted to give you my thanks, again, Lord Jing Yuan. I have never thought my younger sister would marry anytime soon, but you have truly done her a wonderful service. How could I –”

Your mother coughs and interrupts your brother. “Son, cease with your rambling. I could hardly stand the fuss you are making, let alone imagine how exhausted Lord Jing Yuan must be.”

Jing Yuan shakes his head and intercepts. “Not at all. Brother-in-law, I understand that our engagement has only been newly confirmed, so your surprise is inevitable.”

The boisterous chattering and guffawing seem to quiet down, passersby slowly redirecting their attention to your quartet.

Your mother seems to notice as well and fans at herself. “How could the son of a Duke possibly have taken an interest in the daughter of a Marquess?”

The encompassing crowd falls into a hush. All are thinking the same question, almost bloodthirsty in their intrigue to know the answer, and they flit their eyes between you and Jing Yuan, wondering who will speak first.

You, for one, have no interest in such public or dramatic gestures. You put your glass back down on the table and comment, “Mother, Brother, My Lord, the dancing is about to commence.”

Someone whispers that they have never seen you dance before, adding another layer of suspense.

Jing Yuan extends an arm out, and you take it without a shred of doubt or hesitation.

But before the two of you leave, you pause to speak with your mother. “Oh, Mother, please, take my fan!”

She glares at you, and you smile back, taunting and urging her to keep watching you, to see what you can and will do.

You can imagine the way the room will uproar with shock and rage as soon as you step out. You know your mother will splinter your fan in her wrenching grip, and your brother will have to figure some way to placate her. You know you and Jing Yuan will reminisce on this memory with much jest and delight.

And so, you do it.

Committing to putting on a show, everyone watches the flick of your wrist, the extension of your index finger along the frame of your fan. You direct your gaze to Jing Yuan, who is already looking at you with unreserved adoration, and slowly draw the fan across your cheek, dragging out the moment for as long as you can.

You hear the gasps, the cries, the confused mutterings. But the Master of Ceremonies, always in a timely fashion, calls for everyone’s attendance in the ballroom, and you drop the fan in your mother’s upturned hand before Jing Yuan whisks you away.

Now everyone knows you and Jing Yuan are lovers, to be married in a little over a month. Though you would prefer to be married already, you remind yourself that your shared happiness has already begun, and nothing will change that. 

Hand in hand, you and Jing Yuan, along with many other couples, approach the middle of the ballroom, taking your positions in the dancing circle.

“When was the last time My Lady danced at a party?”

“Never before, actually.”

“Then, I must be blessed to have your first dance.”

“And many more, of course.”

“How many more? And just dances?”

You raise your head to stare at him, right as the Master of Ceremonies gestures at the band to begin. Jing Yuan’s eyes shine a brilliant gold underneath the glow of the chandeliers, clear and proud in their affections for you. Jing Yuan, always loving, forever yours.

As the waltz begins, you rise en pointe, and he clutches onto you so that your chests press together and your faces are only a breath apart.

You speak, the words you articulate only for him to hear.

“My existence is entirely yours.”

[bunninophia]

Hi! I'm Bunny and I'm redesigning the whole cast for hazbin hotel

{PLS READ THE WHY SECTION BELOW}

Anyway.... Onto my designs! I'll be detailing the stuff I changed/added

First is.,..!! Sir pentious! Weird right? You would think it's Charlie but uh nah, he's my favorite character and I wanted to make him similar to my tastes.

Yes he is trans! I have a small little HC that the egg boys are his boys...

And he is much longer/bigger due to this because of sexual dimorphism! But we love him for who he is now he's so silly :). He also has a barbed tail that I would say is used as a 5th hand! To grab stuff. He already has 4 arms cause why not? He needs to push himself around already..

Next is.. Angel Dust!, he doesn't have an alt version because I feel it's not needed but here he is!

I added pedipalps, those are the mandible looking things. They are a part of spiders I think are so cool and I wanted to add them! Unfortunately they're not counted as legs and adding another set of legs to angel I couldn't figure out... But good enough!

I also changed his eyes! To include a spiderweb, I'm not entirely sure why he has that black eye, so I thought I would change it up a little bit.

A friend gave an idea that his sight from that eye is kaleidoscope-like so I'm implementing that too! And how could I forget! The spiderbutt! Without it it's kinda weird looking so I wanted to add it in cus it's so cute

Next up.... Husk! He's one of my favorite characters so.. kinda went all out on him

I didn't change much about him besides his patterns and colors, but generally his silhouette is the same!

I wanted to add a lot more feathers and fluff to him! And putting on the casino style bringing back the spades and hearts to his wings again!

I thought the spades were funny

Up next.. Vox!

I found his design interesting that he is a flat screen TV even though he died in the 50's? So I decided to change that! Turning him into a box TV again!

And giving him a cable tail, I thought it would be clever that when sleeps he charges himself up for the day!

Next up... niffty! She's the last character I've designed so far!

Also while looking up her historically accurate date I found out she's 22??? Weird... But yeah she did end up looking a little older here I'm glad, but I really wanted to give her a bigger needle! What's she gonna do with that small thing?

And her dress is based on 50's maid outfits! With the addition of an embroidered poodle!

.

Why?

Well first I'm crazy and second, I've been now made aware that the show itself does a certain type of representation so disgustingly that I'd rather make my own designs and fix what they couldn't do.

I don't support viv or the show.

If you want to read into it yourself I advise a trigger warning for S/A. It happens in episode 4.

[annabelle--cane]

okay here's a tma thing that's been bugging me for like three years: I've seen a bunch of people say that jon needed to extract statements in order to live, and thus the others making him stop was equivalent to forcing him to starve to death, so I'd like to say that that isn't actually canon. that idea seems to come from this bit of mag 152:

and he explicitly says that he isn't certain, it just feels that way, and I don't believe we ever actually see an avatar die from starving their patron; we can presume that the alexandrian archivist from mag 53 hadn't fed in nearly two millennia, and it was still alive. this also comes during a short series of episodes where, having accepted that he isn't being puppeted into taking statements, it seems like a part of jon is on-and-off-again trying to come up with other reasons why he actually has to do it (he'll die otherwise, he has to be strong enough to protect the others, it must be harder on him to resist his patron than daisy and melanie with theirs, etc), so I think that colors the way he talks about it. not that I think he's lying or anything, I just think he's subconsciously magnifying any pieces of information that would make him feel better about taking statements again. I don't begrudge him that, because a) like, duh, of course that's his mindset, wouldn't it be yours? and b) he doesn't actually fall off the proverbial wagon at any point, he just thinks himself in miserable circles and feels Bad. but still, I don't think it's a full and accurate assessment.

anyway, the situation we're presented with here is more complex than "it's like making a lion stop eating gazelles," because jon neither kills his victims nor is he in actual immanent danger of death if he doesn't "feed," the real question is of extended pain and suffering. jess tyrell only tells martin about her experience two weeks after it happens, so she may well improve with more time, but as she tells it, jon not only attacked her in public and made her feel perpetually unsafe and paranoid, but he also undid five years of recovery from a traumatic event, making her viscerally re-live it every night so the terror and trauma is always fresh. jon may not die from only reading old statements, but his quality of life nosedives, he gets weak and tired and irritable with no way to ever make it let up, an even more significant problem for him than most people because of the frequency with which superpowered monsters try to kill him and everyone he cares about, and it appears to get gradually worse over time with no plateau. like, I'm not pointing this out to say "jon was complaining about nothing and basira was right to threaten to kill him," his situation was plenty bad as-is and I 100% sympathize with his whole deal, but I think saying "he needed to or he'd die" flattens the conflict and makes it overly neat and digestible.

[emotsper]

Hi!!!!!!!!

You’re like the szai person on tumblr, and even tho I’ve been playing proseka for like two years, I still don’t read a lot of the stories………

So as the certified szai tumblr person, since you kinda own the tag, would you like to explain to me why szai is such a popular ship? I really didn’t read much of anything…

Have fun!!

let me be brief (1/350) (no bc its actually gonna be a long ramble. apolocheese.) (also sorry if formatting is awful im a mobile user and I literally just type whatever)

FOR REAL THOUGH. PLEASE JUST DO ME A FAVOR AND READ MMJ MAINSTORY...... not only its a good source of szai cocaina you get to experience the entire mmj mainstory. i was normal before mmj mainstory and i was less normaler after mmj mainstory.

it simply went even more downhill when i read tenshi no clover. genuinely the one event story that first made me cry (second one was ice drop event but thats a bit biased)

okay now lets get to the main meat of it. szai.

admittedly i was kind of normaler early on but one of my tipping point was Chasing the radiance event especially chapter 7. please read/watch it. please. this specific chapter sent me into my trip of insanity when it comes to szai. it also opened my eye to specific scenes in their side stories/mmj mainsto that i skimmed early on especially bc im a jp only player so fan tls may not be super accurate back then 💔

to start off, airi was a girl that was often made fun of for being tomboyish, and seeing idols for the first time made her feel a glimmer of hope that maybe she can also bring hope to other people. she finally manages to reach her goal and became an idol after several of failed auditions (very deserved especially after her hard work) while shizuku became an idol purely out of luck from the idol grand prix context her friends convinced her to join 😭😭 From the start their relationship feels a little bit doomed with how jealousy is kind of unavoidable from airis side. but against all odds, you get to see airi go to shizuku and cheering her up by giving shizuku her towel and telling her to wipe those tears especially with such a pretty face like hers (MACHINE CLANG CLANG RACK SFX) they are so crazy for this. especially when you realize that shizuku kept the towel until now. (the towel is her area upgrade item)

from this point, airi thought nothing much of shizuku yet other than her being her new rival (and that shes rly pretty) but shizuku sees airi as her main reason to keep going in this idol stuff at that time, and that was enough.

(okay purely for this next part im forgetting a bit so do remember it may not be fully accurate 🙏)

after training minori for awhile, szai went thru a mini divorce arc where airi was telling minori that being an idol isnt all fun and games and that minori should consider quitting, continuing on with how she flopped in the industry bc she was more popular as a reality show figure. but shizuku disagreed and kept saying how airi was an idol through and through and that she shouldn't have quit, but that just tipped airi off and she shouted at shizuku, unloading all her pent up jealousy that she had for awhile now. iconic as hell scene in the most angsty way possible.

u can easily tell this wasn't received well by shizuku. at all. airi you done fucked up. shizuku left her idol group the next day.

(addendum i forgot to add. shizuku truly believed that airi was the first and if not, the only person who sees shizuku as shizuku hinomori herself, without all the idol filter that people plastered on her. so when airi admitted that she was jealous w shizuku getting everything good in the industry, that basically broke shizuku. (color of myself is a nice one to read when it comes to this 🙏 also the i am we are event is a crazy good conclusion to shizukus current arc))

at this point airi realizes just how much shizuku was influenced by her past actions without her fully knowing about it. girl you done fucked up.

this scene is still one of the biggest and strongest kryptonite for szai fans. especially with what happens after.

after confronting shizuku about her choice knowing full well its airis fault, airi, angry at herself, goes immediately to cheerful*days training place (she knows the place since theyve kinda shared the spot iirc) while the rest of mmj follows. she started threatening arisa and almost threw punches but she held back and told the rest of cheerful*days that shizuku is more of an idol than everyone in the room (i may be hallucinating this one. do lmk)

they finally leave the place, and both apologies to each other. at the same time, they both admitted that they were each others idol

and then shizuku goes to tackle hug airi. what the queer

that only concludes the mainstory section btw. upon realizing it may be too much of a recap instead of actual explanation ill be brief w the rest of it (keep in mind i dont read EVERY szai story, just ones i was made aware of bc im playing on jp and story content is a bit harder to see/consume)

Main szai crazies for szai fans

1. chasing the radiance ch7. airi yet talks again about how shizukus hands are slender and elegant while hers are short and chubby (she compared her hands to a manju) and shizuku was mad at her about this and went on a long tangent about how airis gentle hands were the ones who pushes minori and shizuku forward when they think they couldn't.

this is probably the fifth time ive read this story and it still gets me. i hate these fruitsssss. please read the full chapter ive linked it near the start this chapter is so special to me.

2. my ideal idol (airi 5, jp only event for now)

Bro i Dont Even Know What Else To Say. Just Look At This Card

but if we're being serious . lets talk about this one specific card and the story shall we.

this card was a blast to the past; pre-mmj szai again.

we start off with present mmj getting ready for their turn in the joint performance with a new junior idol group that they were paired with. airi was a bit nervous and shizuku noticed it. so she offered to do something that would hopefully lessen the nervousness for both of them. shizuku softly puts her head on airis back and whispered several word of encouragements. shizuku reminisces to the past.

pre-mmj szai. shizuku was very nervous as she was waiting for her first performance ever as an idol. airi was also there, and it was going to be her first too. airi shows up to say hi to shizuku but she noticed that shizuku was really nervous and at the verge of crying. airi knew she had to do something and told shizuku to turn around, shizuku did. shizuku lets out a little surprised yelp as she feels airis hands and head pressing against her back. she could hear airi muttering some encouragement but we never get to hear what the words were, only that shizuku thought about how warm airis hands were. (i need to be euthanized)

back to the present, shizuku says that she hopes that this gesture can somehow "repay" for what airi did to her back then. i think im losing it. sorry

OKAY IM DONE IM DONE ITS ALMOST 1 AM MY BRAIN IS NOT GOING TO WORK ANYMORE IF I KEEP TYPING..... my brain can handle so little. anyways i hope this wall of text ramble can convince u to read mmj mainsto and consume more mmj stories........ i admit its not perfect or whatsoever bc i haven't read the mmj mainstory for awhile and i have a wee memory issue thats paired with my deafness so. yeah. enjoy. haha.

[joyce-stick]

The Beef Stroganoff Song! (arbitrary subtitle discourse edition)

So, you may have noticed here that the subtitles in this clip (from Symphogear GX episode 3) are fairly different from what you're used to seeing when people post this video, and the phrasing in the subtitles is fairly different from what the associated memes often say

For those who don't know, Symphogear got itself released on blu-ray by Discotek, and with that came with a new translation authored by Noelle (@ulsairi on twitter ) who is notable for being the only trans lesbian anime translator I know of off the top of my head.

Her translation appears, in my opinion, really rather polished and very good, and I strongly appreciate the way it's written and how much character it adds to the dialogue by giving everyone distinct voices and adapting things into more natural English. It's also a fair bit gayer. I haven't encountered many people who've seen these subs, but I think most fans of the series would consider these a net positive change. There are some people who are mad about these subtitles, and they can die mad.

Anyway, let's talk about the different phrasing of the beef stroganoff song. I'm mostly going to compare to Crunchyroll's subtitles for reference since that seems to be what most others go off of. Here's a link to that version.

So right off the bat we can see here that while CR's translation appears to be a lot more, for lack of a better word, functional, Noelle's translation tries to apply more dialectal force "it's beef stroganoff/Yes! It's THAT beef stroganoff!" And generally communicate through the tone how excited the girls are to get started. Additionally you'll see throughout that the latter is a fair bit more lyrical, there's a lot more punctuation and verbal tics and filler phrases written into the dialogue to express that they are singing, which makes sense since Japanese tends to omit a lot of the sorts of prepositions that Noelle threw in here,

Like, Yumi (yes I went and looked up her name on the wiki) just says "beef stroganoffu" because it's obvious from context that it is beef stroganoff, she doesn't need to spell it out, at least, not in Japanese

(We know like maybe ten hiragana and 1 kanji do not trust us on Japanese this is all just basic shit we learned from online guides)

So this probably leads to a rushed translator from Crunchyroll (they are notoriously crunched for time) who's just trying to Get It Done probably not really bothering to throw in extra additional connecting letters to express the tone of the character, only doing so when it's required to make basic grammatical sense in the target language. So they likely didn't think to make the subtitles have flourishes like this that aren't explicitly in the original Japanese. Noelle meanwhile had the time to consider things like this and take such liberties in order to attempt to convey the same tone that was arguably implied by the Japanese, even if not explicitly put forth

And that's about all the things I should not repeat I guess, TL;DR, these subtitles are more fun to read because the translator had more time to think about the best way to make them more fun while still being accurate to the spirit of the original dialogue, who'd have thought!

(In case you're wondering, the Commie subtitles say kind of the same thing here, and y'know, it doesn't seem like a wrong translation, but also I really dislike this subtitle styling, orange on pink with that font and that drop shadow is just kinda bad. I appreciate the effort but like. Come on. Please fansubbers, please think about if the font and colors you chose actually work with the image you're putting them on)

Moving on!

horizontal and middle rhyme with each other so you can almost actually sing this, actually let me take a moment to try it right now- never mind, I can't sing. Hahaha. I don't actually think it lines up that well with the melody But I thought it did! Didn't I? That's significant, that this actually reads like plausible lyrics to a silly song someone made up instead of a literal translation of a Japanese song

Anyway, here comes the first major difference!

So in the Crunchyroll subtitles, Yumi says "it doesn't have to be beef" which in English (in my estimation) sounds a tad scatterbrained, like, "oh yeah sure beef but whatever really it doesn't actually matter," while Noelle's subtitles rather say "Got no beef? Don't you worry!" Which implies something different.

"It is recommended to use beef, but you may substitute something else if you are sorely lacking in beef" as opposed to "Oh the beef doesn't actually matter, zoinks lol!" CR's translation is kind of a bit funnier in how it sorta comes from nowhere without this qualification, which probably lead to this phrase's memeticness, but Noelle's translation seems more reasonable to me so yeah again, tada, yay for sensicalness.

Now here's another interesting change:

Again, the flat manner in which the CR subtitles say "finish with salt" with rendezvous only being included because that's literally what they said, is sort of absent any stronger emotional implication,

Noelle's translation meanwhile going with "don't forget them, they need it" imparts personhood upon the salt and pepper. The implication being that the girls are saying, "the salt and pepper are in love, please reunite them, they must be in gay love together." Or maybe you think the salt and pepper cannot be forgotten and must be reunited because they are Only Friends.

Whether you choose to believe that this is the salt and pepper getting married, or merely subtext, or an interpretation, or salt and pepper shipping bait, this is a deeply important tonal indicator because it reminds you that these girls are ultimately playing with their food!

"And there, now you're in for a treat!" I don't think I need to explain this one.

Now, here's an interesting one!

In the Crunchyroll subtitles, it just says the memetic "boys don't know this." With no context, no elaboration, no clarity, no qualifiers. Boys don't know. Did the boys magically get their brains wiped? Are the boys biologically incapable? Who knows. Nothing is said but that.

Noelle's subtitles, on the other hand, qualify this statement by saying "Boys aren't taught to cook, so they may not know" (And note again how, it says "kno-ow" to emphasize, once more, that they're singing, and also this lines up with the long "ooooo" sound they make at the end of this lyric, so cool)

There is now context! Boys aren't taught to cook! Anime and Japan's culture in general still pigeonholes people into gender roles! And an anime translator just wrote you a hidden translation note about it! You might be a boy, you might know how to cook, but certain boys in another part of the world aren't traditionally taught cooking, so they may not know

They may not, but they could!

Trust a trans person to express gender facts with subtle nuances like this in anime translations.

And with that lovely bit of good translation and good writing and good localization of a thing to make it make sense to people

Mew!

[missedditart]

Along with my Lackadaisy hyperfixation I've also become obsessed with under the devils moon by @libras-interactives. I absolutely love their ocs and can't wait to see more of them in the story. I made some fan designs of them and thought it couldn't hurt to share them. I had a lot of thoughts about their designs so anyone who is interested can read about that below. Also, English isn't my first language so please ignore any spelling mistakes and such.

Malwina

Malwina's design was really fun, also the first one I did. She is described as having black fur and hair and orange eyes. I knew if  I wasn't careful she could end up looking like Ivy, so I made her hair color brighter than her fur color and also made her hair curly/wavy. I also emphasized the eyes as they're often pointed out in the text as big and pumpkin-like. I wanted her to look curious but maybe a little unsettling if she stares at you too long. I also gave her soft shapes and rounded years since she is very friendly albeit a bit pushy.

Máire 

for Máire just mostly followed the description we get of her, calico, auburn hair and green eyes. The thing I had to think about for this drawing is what kind of clothing she would wear. I went between thinking she would prefer something stylish or something comfy. I'm not an expert on 1920s fashion so I mostly looked at old clothing catalogs to get a feel for the clothes she could wear. I settled on something more in between a comfy shirt with a stylish skirt. I based the tarot cards in her hand on Pamela Colman Smith’s designs. Also since she is wearing a shirt I couldn't show off the heart fur pattern on her chest but it's definitely there.

Sylvester

Sylvester doesn't have a very striking design but that's the point. For his facial structure i took some inspiration from Asa Sweet and Bobby Bastion from the comic but I also tried to make him stand out on his own. Other than that I kept close to the text, gray suit and graying fur. I was tempted to give him a colorful gaudy tie, maybe something his wife insisted he should wear. To make him more interesting but again he was supposed to be drab and unassuming. So I decided against it. (I still headcanon that his wife gives him gaudy ties and insists he wear them and he cant say no to her.)

Flynn

Flynn was the one I had the most ideas for but also the one I'm the least happy with the result of but might as well share it. We haven't gotten many physical descriptions of him and what we get is somewhat vague. I also haven't played all the backstories so there might be something there that I've missed. But from what we do get he is often described as odd eyed and two faced, this gives me the impression he has a chimera pattern. We haven't been given any specific color so I chose what I thought fit best. black and bluish gray to make him cold and dark looking, i gave him green as an accent color. I probably went a bit heavy on the devil shape language but it's fun so… I also wanted to color the tip of his shoes white or gray to make them look like goat hooves but they ended up looking too much like bowling shoes so I decided against it. He still has a hoof-like pattern on his shoes which probably isn't very historically accurate for 1920s men's shoes haha. And lastly his cane is only described as black and ivory but nothing specific on the shape. I figured giving it some interesting motif would be fun so I went with a snake. specifically a black mamba witch don't look dangerous until you get too close or they open their mouth. I'm sure a fitting metaphor could be made from that. My design for him will probably change if we get new info about him later in the story but so far this is how i imagine him.

[dollsorwhatever]

Creeproduction Spectra

Figured this would be valuable to post here as well since these are so new lol Despite spending almost an entire day complaining about Creeproduction Spectra having the wrong head sculpt and polypropylene hair, I did actually buy her from Paulmart the day she was first listed because Spectra is one of my favorite MH characters (along with Cleo ofc, and Wydowna- please make a collector or G3 Wydowna Mattel I am begging you) and because I was curious to compare her with my original Sig Spectra that came from the very first batch and is slightly different from later batches of Sig Spectra lol Original on the left, Creepro on the right!

Some things of note: -Can confirm she has poly hair! Appalling. I get that kanekalon is discontinued, but there are nearly identical saran matches for Spectra's original hair colors, so this was purely a result of Mattel being incredibly cheap. Mattel has recently made a pretty significant effort to make new saran batches of g3 dolls that originally had poly, so I really do not understand why they would do this for a reproduction doll that is primarily directed at adult collectors lol It's also horribly layered in a way that I find baffling? Sig Spectra has always had weird layers but the creeproduction has, like, a mullet. I'm not even bothering to style it because she's getting a reroot ASAP.

-Creepro uses the less detailed Spectra sculpt with less prominent cheekbones that was introduced with the final batch of Signature Spectra and used for most of her subsequent dolls until 13 Wishes. It also sits a lot lower on the neck than the original sculpt, which is why she looks slightly less relaxed than my original.

I honestly hate that they chose to reproduce this sculpt instead of the original (her HC doll also lacks cheekbones btw) and she would have been lesser compared to my original even if she didn't have poly. Spectra's original sculpt is one of my favorite MH heads they've ever done so it's pretty annoying to see them using the simplified version for her new dolls, especially considering they made switch in the first place because corporate allegedly thought the original was "too scary" for children. Despite my disappointment at her lack of cheekbones, I do actually really like her face and I find it a little hilarious that I managed to get such a good one after all the complaining I did lol

-While Creepro Spectra has a shorter neck than her original doll, she has a longer neck than the other Creeproductions; this is because the other Creeproductions (both waves) have shorter necks than their original dolls, but Spectra's original doll already had a much longer neck than the other characters. I guess she had some extra neck to spare compared to the rest lol (it's more accurate to say that the neck length is still the same, but all of their heads sit lower on the neck knob than their original dolls for some reason) -Her screening is mostly based on the version used for the late batch of Sig Spectra, but interestingly has a side glance! The only other version of Sig Spectra with a side glance is a variant from her second or third batch (with cheekbones) so it's interesting that they chose a side glance for the reproduction.

-Her earrings match the first batch Spectra (black chains instead of silver like subsequent batches), but the rest of her outfit is more reminiscent of the batches that came after. For example the belt on the first batch is much more simple than the one used on later batches, and the creepro comes with the more detailed belt. -Skirt is slightly shorter and her boots are also darker (improvements imo) -The silver necklace and bracelet shackle are made of a much more transparent plastic than the original (not an improvement) -Her top is mostly the same but the construction is slightly less fitted and the pleather feels a bit cheaper.

As much as I actually sincerely like her, I think it's overall a mixed bag; the poly is the worst part imo. I can look past the sculpt being wrong because she is really gorgeous despite that, but it's unacceptable for any doll to be rooted with polypropylene, and especially not a reproduction. And I can't help but think about how amazing she would have been with her original sculpt. Luckily I can reroot and I look forward to giving her knee length saran hair..... but I shouldn't have to do that! According to the retailer who first got these, they will get a wide release on Amazon exclusively in April of 2024 and he only managed to get them directly from Mattel because they hadn't decided to make them Amazon exclusives until after he ordered stock. So keep an eye on Amazon in a few months! Also according to a very reliable inside source on Reddit, there will also be a new batch of wave 1 Creeproductions in 2024 as well!

Don't buy from scalpers!

[yosajaeofficial]

JUNE UPDATE

WASSUP BROS AND HOES, IT’S ME, YOSA FRICKING JAE. BACK AT IT AGAIN WITH ANOTHER UPDATE ABOUT THE JMC 🔥🔥🔥‼️‼️‼️

Last time, I remember saying it’ll be different and things will spice up, and I am indeed gonna provide more stuff piled into these updates because the debut comic is taking so long. I wanna make sure you all get full when consuming these updates instead of being like “oh, nothing happened lol”. I have a good chunk of shit to talk about that’s outside of the comic itself, but it’s like behind the scene stuff about it :3

With that out of the way, let’s finally get started!

The Comic

(W.I.P OF THE OFFICAL DEBUT COMIC)

The comic is slowly making progress, the first thing that’s changing is me showing progress of the comic itself and giving ya’ll w.i.ps in order for me to give you guys content to look over, and because I just want ya’ll to see it yk? The honest truth is that it’s moving slow because of burnout. It was huge and made me wanna give up on the comic and leave the fandom, I was struggling for a good while but my best friend told me it was best to take a break and recharge instead of pushing further. They told me to do something else so I can regain my motivation and passion for the project, and she was right, because I’ve been having fun hanging out, watching her play Stardew Valley, and letting loose without the pressure for the debut comic to come out. I have to prioritize my health and well-being before anything else, and I know the comic will be done!

Also for you all to know, the team I had disbanded, and right now I don’t have a full official one to help with the debut. I have amazing friends that have helped look over the script, one did some sketch compositions, one helped fix up grammar in the script. They helped me greatly and I’m so grateful for them and their loving support even through all of the rough patches. For the most part, I’ve been doing everything on my own, and it can get stressful easily because of how much I’ve had to change my plans and shuffle around when the team disbanded. I’ve been the one doing the scripting, sketches, lineart, color, management, and just everything. Even if I try to act like things are fine behind the scenes, I definitely got more anxious and depressed after events occurred, so this break (not hiatus) has helped me recharge after going through a bit for this comic. To end this section on a good note, I’m feeling so much better and I’m recharging absolutely greatly, I even renewed my love for Donnie after a friend drew him 🦐 Sooooo…The JMC is still in good hands.

Bonus Content: The Villain

YosaJae, what is this? This is the section that’s hella new, the place where I show you guys some cool concept art, ideas, and plots that show the origins of the JMC or even scrapped/cut content. Today we’re gonna talk about the villain of Arc 1. Fun fact, two were created at the same time but one of them was finalized to be the primary villain for Arc 1!

(First ever concept art of Archie Gomez)

Here he is! The cat himself, ✨Archie✨ I needed some variety and needed an anthropomorphic character since Rise has lots of their mutants and yokai. Archie was a character that was a lot more serious and hella threatening but he was toned down after more arcs were created. For some reason, I included freckles because I originally thought, “Ginger people…..” then included the freckles to make him more recognizable. Let’s just say that they weren’t as rememberable as I thought because I forgot them after a while-

Fun fact, Archie was originally gonna be a native Spanish speaker but not be able to speak English. The actual conflict was gonna be about the turtles and Archie fighting due to language miscommunication, but it was later scrapped because of the issue with translating each of his sentences and being truly accurate with his dialogue. He also at first was a one off character that would never return, but he was popular that he became the reoccurring bad for Arc 1.

(Archie Gomez Evolution 2022-2024)

Archie had went through a good bit of design changes over the years and I changed him to be more easier to draw by giving him a more unique silhouette by drawing his head as a pentagon instead of a circle. The transition was at first a circle to triangle, but then the shape was too complicated to recreate so I had to go with a pentagon (as an accident at first too). That changed him A LOT but I was hella happy with the way he turned out because he started to look more unique and iconic. Pretty cool, eh~?

Aaaand that’s it! Thank you all for stopping by and coming in to read this update! I hope it was fun to go through and very refreshing. I wanna make my updates more like this instead of what was said above. Especially because this is taking so long, I wanna be able to go over behind the scenes with you all since ya’ll at least deserve that; I can’t keep being mysterious about the comic since it is taking years for it to be made, but it’s trial and error so I gotta do this in order for it to be worth the progress. I’m strong, I can do this! Hopefully your day/night is amazing, and take care until next time 😋🫶💜

[kkeidawrites]

If you haven't already could you write a pt2 for jacob holland x mermaid! Reader IT WAS SOO CUTEEEE I rlly enjoyed it. :3

p.s. please take care of yourself and take breaks 👍

🗡️🗡️🗡️🗡️🗡️🗡️🗡️🗡️🗡️🗡️🗡️🗡️🗡️🗡️🗡️

The next two weeks passed through without any major disturbances from the ocean. The carpeting business he had created the year before was slowly reaching an all time high. The demand for boats was coming in full force as the fishing season was coming in in less than a month and so far, the boats Jacob was able to make easily was the dinghy.

However, this particular order was taking far much longer than he originally thought when he made the outline for it. But, it was a boat where it was asking for a lot of designs and Jacob had to hire a couple more hands to help him with the project.

Although, the project wasn't what was on his mind, a certain fish tail was making him more occupied.

For years he knew that the creatures of the sea were both dangerous and mysterious, but from his previous experience with the red Bluster anything is bound to happen at this point.

Jacob pressed on with his life, Maisie was enjoying her time in school practically leaving their home to go and come back home to tell him all about what she learned that day. He returned to his contented life, finally understanding that he would probably never see that mermaid again.

The shed that he had built after his house was finished, held most of the wood he owned and perhaps where he spent most of his time working on his projects.

With some nails in his lip, Jacob hammered the curved wood on the right hand side of the unfinished dinghy he was working on and then wiped his brow. It was day two of his project, and a wet one. It had rained the day before, putting his schedule back a couple of days because the wood he used was also wet.

Sighing, Jacob pushes away another completely soaked piece of wood into the mounting pile of its predecessors and picks up another to feel the weight of it and inspect any large wet spots on the wood.

"Da! Da!" he turned his head to look at Maisie approaching him with a large grin on her face. He sets down his hammer and piece of wood to catch the girl in a hug and grins.

"Hey there kid, how was school?"

"Good!" she exclaims as he sets her down. Digging into her school pack, she pulls out a large book and thrusts it into his face.

"Look! They changed the story about Red!" she says excitedly. Jacob flips open the red spiral book and sees the progression of their story, scarily it was very accurate to what happened. Pretty sure Maisie had something to do with that. A proud father he was.

"Oh and there's someone here to ask you about making a boat for them." she tells him and Jacob frowns in confusion then looks up to see someone approaching.

As the sun sets in the distance, the rays were bouncing off the skin of the woman approaching them. He wipes his hands on the rag he keeps on his hip and squints a bit to see something shimmering on the woman's neck and arms.

Thinking nothing of it, Jacob's eyes widens as he realizes who was approaching and couldn't form any sentences in his mind to speak.

"Hello, you're Jacob Holland right?" Her voice was sultry and soft.

"Um, yeah, I mean yes! Yes, I am Jacob Holland." he holds out his hand to shake her hand and she smiles in greeting.

"I'm Y/n, I was wondering if you could build a jolly boat? I'm a...I help clean the ocean with a very private organization and one of our boats was lost to the sea because of...the rain we had yesterday." she brokenly explained.

"I understand. How soon do you need it done?" he asks, taking the pencil and notepad that Maisie had handed him.

"Well, preferably in two weeks if possible." she says, Jacob nods.

"I can do that. Any color or designs you wish to add?"

"No, it can be however you want it to look." she reassures him and he nods again as he is writing down the possible wood he would need to purchase and add up the total.

"Okay, if there's nothing else that you may need then it will be seven gold pieces for the materials and the time it would take to do the project." Jacob explains.

Y/n pulls out a small pouch from her hip and hands him the correct amount then adds four more pieces to him.

"Just in case," she says to him with a smile.

Shaking hands again, Y/n waves to Maisie and departs from their home sneaking a quick look over her shoulder to Jacob again before turning her head and continuing on her way.

Jacob watches her go and sighs in bliss, Maisie is looking at the gold that she grabbed from her father's slacked hand. Bringing it closer to her face, she noticed something odd about the gold piece.

"Da, look at the money she gave us." she says snapping him out of his stupor.

Jacob looks close at the currency and sees a triton on the gold. The rarest of gold that can only be found in...Jacob shakes his head and puts the gold in his pocket, letting Maisie have the one in her hand for a treat.

"Let's get some dinner then, eh?"

"Yes! I want to show you the high marks I got on my test this week too!" Maisie says as she grabs his large hand and the father-daughter duo return to their home.

With Blue

The little blue creature pushed his head into the open palm for more pets by Y/n as she crouched on the beach to give him some love.

"We'll meet again Mr. Holland, much sooner than you think." her gills flutter softly along with her scales shimmering.

[worldsokayestmagicalgirl]

The first batch of pictures for Amoré's character journal are here! Also I have been so super sick that I've literally had nothing to do but to work on this for like almost 2 weeks so...

The cover to cover tour officially starts here. All I can say about the front & back is that I lament my lack of experience with my Cricut when I made these decals. I only had 2 "fun" colors to work with at the time & I was still getting comfortable drawing in Procreate, so my silhouette art leaves a lot to be desired compared to some stuff I've made recently. I also found it's incredibly easy to burn this leather book.

But she's volume one, everything with her is a learning experience, & I realized as much as it helps to have a mini heat press for tight corners & small spaces, the cloth barrier they suggest you use between the vinyl & the iron tends to make things harder to press on this scale. So instead I gotta quickly tap straight on the transfer film & hope I don't burn anything around it :(´◦ω◦｀):ﾟﾟ

So at the risk of thoroughly exposing my inner theater kid, Amoré set the precedent with how I went forward creating campaign characters. I started off collecting 5 songs to make a mini story arc (almost like a show choir set list 🙃) that helps me figure out an outline for the kind of story I wanna give them.

Somehow Amoré ended up with a truly horrendous blend of rock & theatre. Absolutely incredibe. No wonder she's always such a dramatic bitch.

It was a lot easier to go in & add little decals around these lyrics. I'm definitely cursed with the Too Much™ gene, but I enjoy the little pops of color they give ✨ plus it justifies me hoarding all these vinyl scraps printing stuff this small lol.

Stat sheet!

In all honesty, as my first character I had no fucking clue what I was doing when I placed these & if I could go back & change one thing I'd probably swap her Intelligence & her Wisdom. She’s definitely more people smart than book smart.

But everything else is...very accurate. She has all the upper body strength of a chicken nugget. Plus on top of the (already) negative I traded disadvantage on everything DEX for magic crystal shoes that can be periodically harvested. Just a way for her to carry around the family fortune without actually having to return to the vault✨

For something that started so average, her CON became a monster & always comes in clutch for her alcohol tolerance. I've played variations of her across a few different one shots & I always manage to roll well for anything alcohol related. The dice do respect a bit 🤣

Spells on the other hand, I floundered with a lot at first because we’re not a combat heavy game, but then I found Chaos Bolt & that was that. It’s essentially Amoré in spell form & I’ve had a ton of fun with it over the years. Also Mage Armor cuz my girl is SO DISTRESSINGLY SQUISHY.

Cantrips were more or less a bit of a toss up. Message was fun for the sheer idea of her using it to talk shit during social events without being caught. But aside from Light serving fun backstory purposes the other 3 are kinda just what looked fun ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ unless you count the idea that she would absolutely delight in zapping handshakes.

From there, I wanted to extend the world map made by our wonderful DM @cappierong into a full scroll. Ya know, for the aesthetic ✨

Our campaign started in Civania, where Amoré's main Estate is. I just wanted a quick mock up to reference, so I edited a preexisting picture I found that checked all the boxes (large, on a plateau, accessible only by bridge) and then absolutely smothered it in flowers.

But anyways... This is primarily where Diana & Amoré grew up together in their decade of backstory ✨

There was probably waaaay to much back & forth trying to keep the continuity between stuff I've already drawn & this big reference. But I think it turned out pretty ok? Not like if I make a mistake anyone will really know lol.

Scaling was also another big issue I had, & I moments where I thought something was too big I just kinda handwaved it away like "ehhhhh she's from a stupid rich family." But now I have a NEED to draw baby Diana & Amoré around like, the statue gardens or something cuz I feel like certain parts of this place are definitely ominous 👀 especially for children...

And lastly we have the back cover & the High Noble political relationship map! I normally have this closer to the front but for layout purposes it'll be here. I kinda feel like I need to do more for the decoration of it but I can’t think of anything else to add at the moment.

Sam if u read that no you didn't.

But now! Other than a family portrait that I've always wanted to draw, I think I'm ready to move onto the art for Season 1 : Arc 2. It's a pretty hefty amount of art in comparison to others, so I gotta get busy. Especially since I think I'm gonna have to draw a few comics *sobs*

If you made it this far, thanks so much for reading! I'm always excited to talk out our little idiots so thanks for indulging me ❀(*´▽`*)❀

[jonquilandlace]

So anyway I was bored and this was fully out of my typical fandom but I found this forest fairy maker by @elequinoa on my old favorite dress up game website from when I was a kid, Doll Divine, and proceeded to brainrot and say hey what if I made all the Disney Fairies in this, except creepy and weird and more my idea of fey? So anyway here's all of the fairies and the goofy redesigns (under the cut because I feel horrible for people who were never in this fandom having to scroll past seven sets of fairies lol)

Tumblr crop is bad so I apologize in advance. (Also disclaimer for minor photoshop on Rosetta and Periwinkle to make their body colors more unearthly, as my intent was None Of These Fairies Should Look Human, and to make Periwinkle's mask an arctic fox instead of a fox; I attempted to look at TOU and it seemed like this should be alright, but if not, I apologize for overstepping!) (Also minor edit for less pixelated banner image)

Fawn - She was the first one I did and wound up more muted in color scheme, but I really like how she turned out. She was meant to look somewhat like a moth or bark, with some faun-ish inspiration, as well.

Iridessa - As a fairy focused on light, there were two ways I could see taking her (the alternate being distinctly holographic), but in the end liked the double entendre of "light" when leaning towards "biblically accurate angel," so there's bird motifs and just general cherub vibes.

Vidia - The opposite of Iridessa, really; the goal here was to lean into lightning motifs and dark or gothic elements to emphasize the opposite elements in comparison to Iridessa's classical elements. Dragonfly wings for speed, of course.

Rosetta - As in her original, meant to resemble a flower, just amped up a bit to where she resembles a rococo/art deco fusion when viewed naturally, but could literally flip upside down and pretend to be a flower if she wanted to.

Silvermist - Yes this picture isn't from the first movie I couldn't find a good one lmao. Anyway, her wings reminded me of that specific type of dragonfly that skims over my uncle's lake, so I riffed on that alongside the almost pseudo-waves of the petal shirt. She is more directly meant to be an embodiment of water, but more lake or even bog-ish water, where she could peek out of the water at the top and an onlooker would only register her as perhaps a frog, as emphasized in the monochrome eyes, or a ripple in the waves.

Periwinkle - Where options did really start to limit what I could do, lol. I decided to lean into the mysterious and crystalline vibes of the winter, with her visage taking on the arctic fox and even reindeer-ish antler look of something moving in the snowy woods, but yet draped in a finery like freshly fallen snow. She's also the only one with "normal" fairy wings, but I could see it for her, with them perhaps being made of frost.

And finally, Tinkerbell - One that I definitely took some more risks with in design, she is nevertheless the most openly friendly-looking of the fey batch, despite her green hue, which is really in character for a fairy best known for hanging out with Peter Pan and being fascinated by humans. For clothing, I leaned heavily into artificer and witch vibes, mirroring a bit more of the human world, with a touch of goblin to temper it. I did shift away from her typical dress in favor of more adventurous wear, more suited for pretending to be a mushroom or even mouse in the corner of someone's eye.

Overall, idk, I just really had fun with this mini-project. I don't intend to do anything with it, ofc; it was just for fun, but I had a fun time with it!

[maniculum]

Bestiaryposting Results: Fekthrud

Happy Liminalmas, everybody! We've got fewer results than usual this week, which I would speculatively credit to a variety of factors:

Weird liminal space at the end of the year

It's Another Bird

Not a ton of fun details

It's easy to guess what the animal is

Anyhow, if you want to see the context for this, the page where I collect these posts is here: https://maniculum.tumblr.com/bestiaryposting. (Hmm -- looks like I forgot to update the page last time around. Maybe that's part of the issue too.) And the entry that people are working from is here:

So, our results, roughly chronologically:

@silverhart-makes-art (link to post here) has given us these very well-rendered pheasant-like creatures. They've given their Fekthrud a head like a Pachycephalosaurus*, which I think is a great way to interpret the whole business about the hard skull; like, that had not occurred to me when reading the entry, but now that I see it, it makes perfect sense. In general these are excellent birds here, and you can see some brief notes on design decisions in the post linked above. I like the justification that a ground bird makes the most sense if they're adapted for falling on rocks and/or running into stuff head-first.

*Proud of myself for spelling "pachycephalosaurus" correctly without looking -- being a former Dinosaur Kid pays weird niche dividends.

@coolest-capybara (link to post here) continues to impress with her medieval-style drawings. (And to provide alt-text, thank you.) I really like how colorful and generally very pretty she's made her Fekthrud. I also appreciate the decision to show them attacking someone who is trying to take that "iron rod" advice. Very correct response -- get 'em, birds. If you click the link to her post above, you can see some discussion of design decisions.

@cheapsweets (link to post here) has made the excellent decision to pose their Fekthrud like it's giving a speech. (And the generous decision to provide alt text, thank you.) This bird absolutely looks like it's saying "Ave!" -- I can clearly imagine it addressing the Roman Senate. Cheapsweets has also taken inspiration from Pachycephalosaurus, and I love that two of our artists got there independently -- like I said, it's an idea that makes perfect sense once you think of it. The post linked above contains a detailed discussion both of their design decision and of their artistic process, including an image of their tools and materials. Go read it.

@pomrania (link to post here) has decided that, rather than make the actual bone of the Fekthrud's skull thick. it should have a thick cushion of feathers. I don't know much about birds, but I feel like that makes sense: thick and heavy bone might be a weight issue if this thing is supposed to fly, so a feather cushion might be more practical protection. The goofy look with the tongue lolling out is also quite charming. In the post linked above, you can see some brief notes on design and process.

And... that's it for this week. Like I said, not a lot of people did this one. So, the Aberdeen Bestiary version:

Yeah, so, of course this one is the parrot.

The medieval illustrator is actually pretty close, I think. And they've used one of my favorite styles of Generic Medieval Plant, even though it doesn't look like it can support the parrot's weight.

The entry is broadly accurate, except for the bit about the skull and the iron rod. There are parrots in India with the coloration described -- multiple species, actually, as far as I can tell. They do talk, though I can't speak to the tongue anatomy thing.

Moreover, if you were a parrot trainer in India who wanted to impress medieval Europeans with your talking birds -- maybe so you can establish demand for them in a new market -- of course the first thing you'd do is train your parrots to greet people in Latin and Greek. Latin is the obvious catch-all, and Greek is the majority language in Constantinople, which is the trade hub you want to target. So I bet all the parrots from India that medieval Europeans saw really did say "Ave!" and "Kere!" (And we do know that people in the Byzantine Empire had pet parrots, so I guess it worked.)

I've never heard the thing about parrots having a hard skull and beak. I kind of wonder if, at some point, someone saw a parrot being struck by its owner (or the aforementioned hypothetical merchant) and asked if it was really necessary to beat the poor bird like that -- and got a line like "oh, they have really hard skulls, it doesn't hurt them as much as you think"... and then that just stuck.

Anyway, that's it for this week. Hope y'all are enjoying Birds because you're getting another one next week.

[mary-queen-of-longbeach]

Behold, the true monarch of the ocean: RMS Queen Mary! She may well be the world’s most beloved ocean liner barring, of course, Titanic; her existence has touched lives the world over and she continues to be a cultural staple today. She’s high up on my list of favorite ships, and as such I decided to draw her not as a gijinka, not in her current hotel-slash-attraction form, but as the record-breaking liner she was built to be. Here she is, thundering across the waves, racing the sky itself as she sets a new speed record for Britain and Cunard.

And, of course, here are the notes:

I started this drawing more than a year and a half ago, in the spring of my first year at college. For context, as of posting this it’s the fall semester of my third year, so quite a bit of time has passed. The piece was stalled for so long because coloring the hull was so daunting - I didn’t want to mess anything up, and I knew it would require a lot of graphite!

Originally, this was going to be a fully inked and colored piece. However, the way I shaded the hawsepipe and the top of the funnel just looked too nice to erase or color over, so I switched to making it a pencil-only piece instead.

Despite how realistic I made the drawing, there are some elements that are missing or otherwise incorrect. The horizonal poles (which I believe are cargo booms) attached to the foremast are absent; you should be able to see one of them from this angle, but I left it out because, when I first started the drawing, I wanted to simplify things slightly. I ultimately changed my mind, but by then it was too late in the process to add that in. That’s also the case with the simplified instruments on top of the bridge.

The rigging is simplified, but I tried to be accurate with the stuff I did add.

I made the smoke and water look like that by coloring them in normally and then smudging the pencil with my fingers. Then I added darker areas in the smoke for shading, and finally I used an eraser to make the lighter parts in both the smoke and water. Realistically, Queen Mary wouldn’t have actually produced such a dramatic smoke plume, as she was an oil-fired ship rather than a coal-fired one, but the bigger cloud looked cooler and more dynamic. Also, the smoke should be blowing backward, but it isn’t for similar artistic-license reasons; this, at least, can be explained by saying she must be sailing in some pretty strong wind!

I was originally planning to smudge the hull too in order to smooth out the coloring, but I changed my mind.

I based the drawing on this photograph!