#also I don’t eat much dim sum but I want to try more things from there

[roseofcards90]

Hoping to be normal at the function today

[workingfromjapanandchina]

Day 12:

The final full day in China, and also it was out team building event day.

Today was just entirely fun. No real work, just teambuilding and having fun with our local team here in China. Our local team is super nice and hospital people it’s crazy how nice they are. I hope I’m able to treat them as well. next time they come to the US.

This morning, I think I gave myself four minutes to eat breakfast, which was not enough, but I was able to scarf down a bunch of food with only being two minutes late. Our coworker came in and met us in the lobby of our hotel and out to the first stop of out day.

I’m pretty sure that I woke up this morning around 5 AM and I went to bed around 1 AM so I didn’t get much sleep. This made the day feel pretty rough.

The first stop for our day was to do an escape room. My brain was pretty wrecked, so I wasn’t sure how good this was going to be for me. Overall, the game was not super fun because the challenges were so extremely hard to follow or figure out. It was a more complex one, but the stuff that they had is do just make any sense sometimes. We had to ask for a lot of hints to get through it. It was also pretty hot and some of the rooms which made it even worse for me. So being tired made me only want to get it over with quicker, so I did try a bit to figure things out faster.

After we finally made it through all of the challenges with tons of hints, we went to a coffee shop before a pick us up. I had a café latte with ice because I felt like I was gonna be dragging for the rest of the day without it. The coffee shop we went to was involved to look just like one from the United States, which was kind of funny.

After that, we were all pretty hungry since we were in the escape room for like two hours and now it was 1 PM. We still had like three hours or four hours until our cooking class. So we went and got some dim sum for lunch. The place that we went to was actually really good, I really liked a few of the items that they had. One of the favorite things I had was definitely the Citrus lemonade thing they made. I like it so much. I bought a second one.

After eating, we still had a bunch of times so we decided to go to the Beijing zoo to go see some pandas. I’ve never seen a panda before so it sounds like a good idea. Of course I’m pretty sure. I sound like a broken record now, but again, I was crazy, hot outside and sweating instantly as soon as we were outdoors in the sun. Once we got to the zoo, the lines were super long and people were packed in there. That made it feel even hotter.

One weird thing that happened though was these two girls who were pretty young were just staring at me, for a good five minutes. I would look away and then look back and they were still staring at me. I didn’t know what was up or why they were staring, it was pretty weird. I thought it first maybe was because they never seen my color eyes before. But then later on I realize it was because they have never seen a foreigner before.

We finally got to see the pandas who were pretty much just being big lazy round bears that were chilling. It was pretty cool though to see them, even if they were in cages. They seem pretty dumb, so maybe they don’t even mind being trapped inside of a zoo. It did look like they had a bunch of things to keep them occupied and stimulated so that was good. Normally, I have no interest in going to zoos because they are basically animal jails.

I ended up having two different types of panda shaped ice cream. They were both pretty good though, especially because of the heat. There was another panda that we could’ve seen that is more famous. He got a bunch of notoriety because I guess he has figured out how to escape a few times.

After seeing the pandas, we went out front of the zoo to wait for our rideshare. Since my coworkers chose the more cheaper option, the cars took about 15 minutes to get to us. I’ve noticed that if you choose the most expensive one, they show up within a few minutes or less.

I was sitting down for a moment on a little curb and a bunch of people were around us. These two little boys were probably six years old or so we’re both staring at me and pointing and saying something, they mom was kind of panicking and freaking out that they were doing this and told them to stop. I found out that they were saying foreigner. I’m guessing that these kids had never seen an American before in their lives. I smiled at them and waved and it was pretty funny but the kids said hello to me. It seemed like he wanted to practice his English. They just kept staring, and I kept smiling and waving and saying hello to be friendly. The kids finally had to go and one of them said goodbye, which was funny to hear him say. Maybe these kids will grow up and have a good impression of America based on this interaction. it’s kind of funny, but I think the kids were more open to interacting with me because I was crouching down as short compared to when I stand up.

After seeing the pandas, we went over to the cooking class. In the class we made some traditional Chinese dishes pretty much from scratch. The lady was very knowledgeable and taught us things that I had never done before, like using a meat cleaver safely. The knife was actually pretty heavy, which was surprising. I got to do quite a bit of the work, which was good because it helped me learn more. However, the recipe for the chicken had so much stuff that we had to do and so many ingredients that it would be tough to figure out how to do it on our own later on. But she did give us the recipe so I definitely want to try to do it on my own. We made few types of vegetables, including eggplants, gai lan (which is a leafy vegetable with stocks), bell pepper, and a bunch of other stuff. It was pretty fun to use a real walk on a proper large burner. I got tired of using the spatula to flip the food over so I just started to use my arm to lift the walk and flip the food. I did pretty well without dropping much of the food, but every time I would do it Lady would get scared. I guess it’s not normal to the big walk like I was because it weighs so much and it is pretty big.

I definitely learned a lot from the class, which was great, I always enjoy these classes for sure. The place at the school that was kind of a pretty cool old and remodeled traditional home.

I definitely want to try to figure out how to make the chicken again.

After cooking and eating way too much food, we decided to go for a walk along a street and to go to a tourist street where there’s a bunch of shops to see them. That was pretty cool just to see lots of nightlife and people everywhere. Once you finished that street, we went out and got a rideshare back to the hotel. as soon as I got back, I took a shower and brush my teeth. I feel so much better now. This trip has definitely taught me how much I need to appreciate my local California weather. Not having humidity is amazing, I could not do it haha.

I’ve been working on a real estate deal tonight instead of sleeping. However, part of me is wondering if I should just stay awake all night so that I can flip back to the US time zone easier, but I’m just exhausted right now. I don’t know how much later I can stay up!

Tomorrow I fly back to the states, this trip has flown by as they always do. It’s been a great time for sure, I definitely feel more comfortable being in China this time than the last time. I guess seeing how things work and knowing what you can and can’t do makes it easier. It also doesn’t help that our gov talks poorly about it so much all the time.

[mxpseudonym]

Thoughtless

Pairing: John Shelby x Fem!Reader

Summary: John takes you being hired to audit his work as an insult. Not to mention, you’re too smug about catching his mistakes. John needs to teach you a lesson. John Shelby mocks you for being fucked stupid for 1500 words straight.  

Length: 1585 words (allegedly)

Warnings: Dangerous for work, dirty talk, belittling 

A/N: Super tempted to call this “head empty.�� This is the first time I’ve ever had any motive to write John and I think it’s pretty damn good. Also, gets a bit sweet at the end.  

The pads of John's fingers dipped into the soft crevices of your skin, pulling your hips higher and sliding your dress and slip further up your waist. He marveled at the way he was already shining with your wetness as he slowly moved out of you and the way you seemed to suck him back in. You whimpered, feeling every slight movement as he moved. 

"Heaven and hell, love. You're that far gone already?" John groaned out, still watching the view he could only have with you bent over his desk, chest pressed to the surface. You wanted to bite back at his teasing remark, but it was unfortunately correct.

Tommy Shelby hired you to do a twice-weekly audit of John's books at the betting shop. Your boss swore it was because the derby was coming up, and there needed to be a better system as the business grew. However, John took it as a message: some woman could do his job better than he could. You endured the glares and scoffs from the handsome young Shelby for weeks and gave as good as you got. It just so happened that one night you both stayed late to finish the bookkeeping, and John brought out a bottle of whiskey. 

"We don't need you, you know? Just nice to look at," he slurred while pointing at you. You leaned forward with an arched eyebrow. 

"I catch your mistakes every week, John-boy. But I do agree. I am nice to look at." 

Arrogance met cockiness, and it didn't take long before you were pressed against the wall, paying the price of your smugness. As an unlikely pair, it was surprisingly easy to keep anything between you two a secret. The only problem was, as efficient as call and response, whenever John gave you that look and sent irritated jabs your way, your body reacted with anticipation for what was to come after hours. Today you received "you think you're smarter than me, love" after changing his sums on the chalkboard. 

In conclusion: of course you were already far gone. 

"Oi!" John's hand landed hard against your backside as he picked up the pace. "Where's your head, y/n? Too distracted to use your voice today? Or is that head empty after all?" You looked over your shoulder at him with fierceness. 

"Just thinking about how good this feels after a long day cleaning up after you." 

The words were said with whatever remaining bravery you had lying around and with good reason. John paused mid-stroke, and for a moment, you feared you'd gone too far. No matter the outcome, that sentiment was probably correct. John lifted your leg onto the desk in a quick movement, giving himself more room before leaning over you. 

"If there's one thing I like about you, y/n," John breathed in your ear. "You challenge me. Right now, you've helped me realize that, if that pretty mouth of yours can still speak and that pretty head of yours can still think, I'm probably not doing a good enough job." 

His hips snapped forward, slamming into you with one smooth movement that made you cry out. John was only consistent in that he was entirely inconsistent. His strokes were long and hard or shallow and fast, or some mix of both. No matter the pace, they remained intense enough to send you over the edge quickly when paired with John's fingers abusing your clit.

"John, please, slow," 

"Huh? What was that?" He stopped you between his own pants. John blessed his stamina. Without it, he'd have been finished long ago. Hell, you'd look particularly pretty that day anyway, and it had worked him up, so lasting this long was a miracle in itself. Your snarky little comments just happened to conjure up enough motivation for him to outlast you several times over.  

"John, John," you whimpered with your forehead pressed against the desk. You knew what you meant. You wanted to say that he was going to leave you used for all you were worth if he kept hitting that spot deep in you, but damn if you could even think straight. 

"What the fuck are you even trying to say right now, y/n? You sound, what did you call it? Belligerent?" 

He was only spurred on by those noises you were making. Fuck, you sounded better every time you came. He gripped your arm and pulled you back against his chest.

"Mm, I, ah!" Your eyes snapped closed, and another release came over you. Though not as powerful as your first two, it still made you lean your weight on John. He took your earlobe between his teeth and groped your breasts that he'd been quick to expose after your catalyst of a remark.

"If Tommy heard you right now, he'd wonder why he even hired you. Can't even say a full sentence after a bit of dick, huh?" 

He spat the words like he was disgusted, and the sentiment went straight to your lower belly. Why did you like this? You didn't have an answer. You didn't have anything beyond acceptance of how good you were feeling. You turned your head to look back at the man responsible for this. 

In the dim light of the office, John could still clearly make out a face he'd never forget. Slack-jawed and only able to pant and whine, you looked at John with glossy, pleading, heavily hooded eyes. 

"Fuck," he swore as his cock twitched inside of you. "Poor baby, should I give you more?" The sound you made in response could have meant anything, but John laughed and took it as approval. "Fuckin' hell, you're a mess." 

"Please, please," you pleaded softly, making John smirk. 

"That's right, do what you do best. Beg for this cock, y/n." 

He'd lost track of how long you were at it, and even he was reaching his limit. Still, when he pulled out of you, he sat in his office chair and reached for you again. It was almost too much, sinking onto him yet a new position, but you couldn't help but accept how overtaken by desire you were. 

John paused for a moment and took you in. You bit your lip as he stroked your cheek for a moment. His thumb pulled your bottom lip free before he leaned in and kissed you. 

"I've got a task for you, y/n. Don't worry, I'll make it, so you don't need to know anything." John chuckled when a slight pout came to your face. He gripped your hips and began rocking them, making your eyes roll back. "All you need to do is ride me just like this so I can empty my balls, yeah? Even you can do that." 

"Oh god," you moaned. 

You'd meant to say that you'd make John pay for this later, or even a simple "fuck you." Instead, you fell forward and completed your assignment with John's belittling praise in your ear. John's breathing got more erratic, and he started thrusting into you with no rhyme or reason, just release on the brain. 

"Let me see you," he ordered you. 

You leaned back and looked at him with those eyes again, and you were still making those noises despite yourself. How should he finish? In this state, he could push you on your knees and make you swallow him if he wanted. But something stopped him, maybe that he did intend to walk you home later and he didn't want to humiliate you too much. Not yet, anyway. 

He quickly lifted you off of him, making you sit back on his thighs as he gripped himself. He was too focused on the fast-approaching release that he didn't see you move until your hands were taking over for him, stroking with a firm grip. You'd never handled him that way before, and that surprise, coupled with the warmth of your palms, had him spilling over your fingers with bucking hips and a loud groan. 

John stole a cloth from the kitchen after you caught your breath and helped you clean up enough that you didn't ruin your slip on the walk home. You imagined it was probably a side effect of fatherhood, but John was surprisingly doting. 

"I'm walking you in, no buts about it," John told you as he walked into your flat and began helping you with your coat. 

"You don't have to-" 

"Did you eat?" He stopped you. Now that he mentioned it, you hadn't had anything since noon. 

"I didn't yet." Your voice was already sleepy. 

"Alright, I'll run a bath and then make some tea and something quick. I know about three meals that won't burn the bloody building down," John chuckled. His flushed face was turning slightly bashful. 

"Thank you." 

"Can't have you going weak, can I?" He scratched the back of his head. Despite your insistence, John rolled up his sleeves and helped you into the bath. Before he could leave you to begin searching your cabinets, he paused at the door, turning to you. "I keep telling Katie how smart you are and how she can be like that, too, so don't go taking any of that stuff to heart." 

You blinked after him, then smiled softly to yourself, sliding further into the bath. John Shelby was a dangerous man in more ways than one. 

--

Bonus script: 

"Can you check this?"

"I thought all I could do was beg?"

"Good grief, don't hold it over my head!" 

[elstreem]

ALBW Roleswap AU...thing?

Trying to write about this idea where it's Hyrule that got devastated and so Link seeks help from Ravio and Hilda in Lorule. Long post, but here's what I've written about it. I don't think I'm gonna do anything more substantial for it, but it's fun writing this.

Here's a google docs version that's prolly easier to read: https://docs.google.com/document/d/1Ar_f6wXBTeY3DGfWeM667QqwvyS-2GfrlZTMCcKQ6BY/edit?usp=sharing

ALBW AU: The Appointed Knight and the Feral Hero

Among the realms created by the Divine mothers, two were tied like the two sides of a coin - both fair kingdoms, with a royal family who protected the sacred relic, Triforce. The Triforce was the sum of the Goddesses’ powers left in these realms, and was even said to be able to grant wishes, leading some to seek its power...unbeknownst to the guardians of the Triforce, it also serves as the cornerstone of their respective realms. No one knows what would happen if the Triforce was broken in some form, for it has never happened before…

As mentioned, the Triforce was left in two particular realms, so close and yet far from each other. The realm bathed in warm sunlight was called Hyrule, while the realm under the cover of soothing darkness was called Lorule. Without knowing of it, the denizens of these two realms prospered similarly to each other. But they were never able to meet, save for when a slight distortion in time and space would show times and places through mirrors and reflections. Only a passing mystery, and were it not for a grievous calamity, perhaps there would never have been a time when Hyrule would need aid from Lorule…

-----------------

The clamor of war rang loudly throughout Hyrule Castle. The castle was besieged by terrible forces, slavering monsters and twisted ghouls, howling as they clashed with the soldiers of Hyrule. Men shouted and attacked, hoping to defend their kingdom to the last. However, this was not where the real battle was to be found. In the chaos, there was only one place of stillness - the castle sanctuary, where the princess stood and her knight stood against the demon king, who had risen again. Behind the two protectors of the kingdom, the Triforce shone with a radiant light. “Hand over the Triforce,” Ganon rumbled, hands flexed around a trident. The princess stretched out a hand, tapping into her magical heritage. Link readied his blade and shield - they would never let this monster ruin the world with the Triforce’s power. Never.

The battle began, trident slashing, magic weaving, sword and shield parrying. Link and Zelda fought desperately against the strength of Ganon, who shrugged off their attacks as though it could only annoy him. With a roar, Ganon swatted away Link, the young Hylian’s slight frame getting thrown into the wall with force to crack his bones. Zelda cried out, but she did not waver - even as Ganon lunged forward to lay his hands on the Triforce, she spun around and reached for the relic herself.

“Oh goddesses, protect us!” Zelda wished with all her heart, but even as her words tapped into the Triforce’s power, Ganon’s own hand had reached the relic.

Even while bloodied and bruised, and screaming from the effort, Link got up, trying to move, desperate, as Ganon wished for Hyrule’s destruction.

The two wishes, opposite to each other, warred within the activated relic. Link tried to run, to reach for Zelda even as the Triforce shattered with explosive power, with blinding light pouring out of it.

In those terrible last moments, Link saw the princess turn to him, her form becoming rigid. Ganon too, had stopped - and Link found his own consciousness dimming, burning with only one thought. He had failed his home.

-------------------

The sun was yet to rise and all was still in the dark hours preceding dawn.

Or so it was supposed to be, if it weren’t for the angry yells of a woman and a sound of scurrying feet.

The village Blacksmith groaned and hauled himself up from his bed, drearily wiping a hand across his face as his wife rushed into the room.

“Now what is this ruckus all about!?” the Blacksmith complained.

“The stinking thief is back! I told you to report it to the castle, but no, you just had to wait for proof! Well, here’s the proof you want!” the hassled woman said sharply, and she grabbed hold of her husband’s arm and fairly dragged him outside, causing a string of complaints. She ignored the fact that he was barefoot and still in his sleeping clothes and hurried him into the cold air of the early morning. She paused very briefly to grab a fresh torch, and continued along. When she stopped, the Blacksmith was not in the most agreeable mood, but even he could see the damage.

The pots they used for storing water and grains were smashed, and their little garden that had once been full of promising vegetables had been ransacked. But even with the messy scene one could see paw prints in the dirt.

“What was it?” the Blacksmith asked, taking the torch from his wife. He knelt to take a closer look at the destruction.

She sniffed and crossed her arms. “I wasn’t sure - I just heard the sounds of a pot getting smashed and I rushed on over here. I only caught it running away, but it looked beastly, all matted fur and glowing eyes - ugh!”

It would be no match for you in your state, the Blacksmith thought, and he hid a grin. Keeping a straight face, he stood up again and said, “Well, I’ll call on our neighbor to help. No need to alert the Castle.”

She gave a disbelieving snort. “That lad is good for nothing but lounging around!”

“But still, he’s the appointed knight of the realm. Go on inside dear, that is enough trouble for one morning,” the Blacksmith said.

After putting on work clothes and making sure that everything was secured, the Blacksmith walked on over to a house on a hill, keeping his eyes peeled for any lurking creatures. However, upon reaching the house, the man gave a groan - of all the mornings he made this trip, today was the miraculous day the appointed knight was not sleeping in. The house was dark and a piece of paper was tacked to the door. The paper read:

“If you’re looking for me, I’m at the Castle!” - Knight of the Realm, Ravio.

--------------------------------

Morning came and went, the sun’s rays bringing cheer and light to the land. Within the Castle’s kitchen, the maids and cooks were bustling about, preparing food for lunch. But in the middle of all this activity, a boy was sitting still, snacking on an apple as he idled the time away.

“Surely you have business to do, Ravio?” one of the exasperated cooks asked, watching Ravio take another apple from the kitchen’s stores and eat it.

“I’m in the business of filling my energy up after an early morning training!” Ravio said, grinning as much as he could with a mouthful of apple.

“...right,” the cook muttered. Sure, Ravio had been in the castle before dawn’s light, but all the staff saw of him was him taking a nap in the knight’s training room.

A page popped into the castle kitchens, and seeing Ravio, marched up to him. Ravio’s grin slid off his face as he saw the page’s gleeful look. He knew what that meant.

“Her Grace, Princess Hilda, commands the Knight of the Realm to the Counsel Room!” the page said as loudly as possible. The nearby kitchen staff snickered as Ravio stood up and wiped the apple juice off his face.

Ravio might not fear monsters, but he had a healthy fear of his closest friend.

-------

"I tell you, your Grace, something has been ferreting around, stealing food and making a ruckus. The missus reckons it’s some sort of beast from what she saw. Maybe a wolf? But then again…"

"There are no wolves in Lorule."

"Exactly!"

"Well, wolves or no wolves, if it is disturbing the peace our appointed knight of the realm should be looking into it," Princess Hilda of Lorule said.

Her crimson eyes flicked over to said knight of the realm, even if he wasn't acting like it. Ravio might have looked the part, wearing armor stamped with the royal sigil of Lorule. It was an impressive enough sight that most never minded the lack of a sword at his back. However, instead of standing at duty, he was slouching, idly tugging at his scarf and wishing the audience would be over.

Hilda cleared her throat and tapped her staff on the ground, making Ravio jump nervously. As carefree as he was, he did not like testing Hilda's temper.

"Yess, your Grace?" Ravio asked.

"The Blacksmith brought his problem personally to the castle, Ravio. And I say, you must look into it this time," Hilda said, emphasizing her last two words.

Ravio groaned. Hilda was annoyed that the Blacksmith had to bring this problem up personally. Okay, so he was the knight of the realm, but that did not mean he had to solve every problem his neighbors had, right?

Then again, it seemed like a monster was involved.

~~~~~~~

The bushes underneath the trees rustled, and as Ravio followed close, he saw a pair of eyes looking out at him from the shadows. They glowed as they caught the light, and Ravio hesitated - human eyes did not glow like that, which could only mean this was a monster.

He quickly grabbed his Hookshot, and fired - the claw shot through the air. The beast leapt clear, but was too slow by just a second and caught a glancing blow. Ravio heard a yelp, and some footsteps going away. Ravio gave chase - even a glancing blow from a Hookshot was enough to give the most hardened monster some pause. And a pause was all he needed for another shot, and whatever his faults, Ravio had a good eye. Again the Hookshot pierced the air, and this time he scored a direct hit. Ravio knew it from the way the Hookshot had struck.

He hurried after the beast and came into the circle of trees, where he found something lying limp on the ground.

"Got you," Ravio murmured to himself, grabbing his bow. He readied an arrow at the beast, and was about to loose the projectile when the beast twitched and groaned - but the groan did not sound at all beastly.

Ravio dropped the bow and came close - yes, now that he was near he could see a hand peeking out from underneath some clothing. Perhaps a humanoid monster? But in the next moment he heard a soft whisper, and the creature went still. Ravio dropped to his knees beside the figure and turned him over, gasping at what he found. The "monster" was a lad his age, covered in a dirty old cloak. He couldn't see much of the boy's face as it was covered in grime and dirty blonde hair that spilled over one side of his face, but it was definitely a human.

"Hey! Can you hear me?"

All he got as a response was a sigh. Ravio's blood went cold, remembering how the boy had gone still. Ravio dropped his head onto the boy's chest, and listened hard - it was faint, but there was breath and a heartbeat within him.

Moving quickly, Ravio pulled up a bottle of Red Potion and carefully tipped it to the boy's lips - he was unresponsive at first, but when Ravio put a drop of potion to his lips, the lad's tongue licked it away. Very, very carefully, Ravio put a small amount to the boy's mouth, and he swallowed it. In this way, the boy finished the bottle of red potion, which brought back some color to his face.

"Hey, hold on, okay? Stay with me, here," Ravio said. He slung the boy's arm over his shoulders, and putting his own arm around the boy's hip, he stood up. The boy's head leaned limply into Ravio's shoulder, and Ravio fought the urge to sneeze - the guy smelled bad - like he'd been sleeping in the wilds and rolled through mud, kind of bad.

The lad was dead weight, and Ravio had a hard time pulling him along. It was with relief that Ravio heard the Blacksmith calling.

"Ahoy! What have you got there? The beast?"

"Nah, I clobbered the beast good, it should stay away. But I found a stranger, he clearly needs help," Ravio reported. The knight's normally jolly tone was urgent and the Blacksmith knew he wasn't goofing around.

"Alright, here I go! Phew, this one needs a bath," the Blacksmith grunted as he scooped the boy up easily.

"And a good meal - he feels almost dead," Ravio panted, relieved at having the weight off his shoulders.

"Bother, the house is full of weapons to be shipped - we should put him in your house, yeah?" the Blacksmith said.

"Mine!?" Ravio said in dismay.

"Of course. You helped him, you have to see it through," the Blacksmith said.

"Oh, I guess. He better pay rent," Ravio muttered.

For all of Ravio's words he was anxious for the boy and was relieved when the Blacksmith put him into his own bed.

~~~~~~

The boy wandered back inside, shrugging off his cloak. Ravio looked up with a smile and then gasped in surprise - with the grime wiped away, he could have sworn the face he was looking at was his own.

Well, not quite - the stranger's hair was blond and his eyes were blue. Also, he had seriously dark bags under his eyes and hollow cheeks, like he had missed many good meals and nights of sleep.

"Whoa - wow, this is a shocker - talk about seeing your twin," Ravio said.

The boy looked blankly at him.

"…look .are you really just speechless with shock all the time?" Ravio asked.

The boy shifted his feet uncomfortably.

"Well, nothing for it. Here, maybe some food will loosen you up. You look faint with hunger," Ravio said.

The boy nodded gratefully, and dropped himself into one of the chairs at the table.

Ravio brought out a plate, filled with goods from the castle - bread, butter, fried eggs and apple slices. He had a feeling that the boy was hungry, and he was right - though the lad tried to restrain himself for politeness, he gulped down the meal as if famished. Ravio busied himself with cleaning his kitchen, which was a little dusty.

“Well, you look much better now that you had a bite or ten in you,” Ravio said as the boy set down his spoon and fork with a sigh.

~~~~~~~~~

"Well Ravio, have you considered one thing?"

"What?" Ravio asked, shifting uncomfortably at seeing Hilda's raised eyebrow.

"That maybe…you're talking way too much to give space," Hilda said tartly.

"Hey!" Ravio said in indignation. Hilda didn't show any outward signs of amusement, but Ravio knew her long enough to know that her eyes were smiling at the joke. It almost made the little jab worth it.

"Anyway, I shall go see this stranger, see if I can loosen his tongue," Hilda said.

The response however, was far more dramatic than the two expected. On seeing Hilda enter the room, the boy's eyes widened, and he hurriedly dropped to one knee and put his hand on his chest in a knight's bow. Hilda and Ravio traded glances.

"Please stand, good sir. I heard from Ravio about your appearance…but please, tell us more about yourself," Hilda said.

The boy raised his head, but looked down again and sadly shook his head. He opened and closed his mouth several times, but no words came out. He raised his hands and folded them in front of his throat.

"Ah, so you cannot speak…I'm sorry to have asked it without consideration," Hilda said.

The boy shook his head as if trying to reassure her there was no offense.

~~~~~~~~

A stone statue stood inside the blasted courtyard. Even petrified, the beauty of the strange lass was not marred at all - her form perfectly captured in rock. She would have looked lovely if it weren't for the expression of horror on her face. The wolf circled the statue, and Ravio read a great sadness in Link's blue eyes.

Ravio drew close and saw, among the petrified waves of the lass's hair, a crown, and her dress bore a banner displaying a royal crest similar to Lorule's.

The wolf sat down, facing the statue, before raising his head and giving off a lonely howl.

--------

Aaaand that's it. I have a few more ideas to toss into this (Link and Ravio searching for the lost Master Sword of Lorule? Hilda facing off against Ganon?) but I highly doubt I can add anything more weighty to this. I don't even have a proper explanation for why Link turns into a wolf (though in my mind, what's happened to Hyrule is a similar situation to the Twilight, where time has stopped and the souls of Hylians are left as wandering, dazed wraiths.) I might post other writing scraps if I feel like it?

[renjiokumura]

A Feast for the Eyes 1

Jackson Wang x Plus Size Reader

Requested: Hi! I wanted to tell you that I LOVED your Wonho plus size reader! I was wondering if I could do a Jackson Wang fluff/smut where his plus size girlfriend is scared for him to see her naked for the first time? I love your writing!!

Tags: Established Relationship, SMUT in the next chapter, insecurities, fluff, cursing, and a card I found at Spencer’s

A/N: Again, I want to say thank you so much for the beautiful words!!! I hope you like this. Enjoy! I write the reader pretty undescriptive. I tend to use female pronouns, so you’ll probably have to specifically ask me for something with male pronouns or gender neutral. But the reader can be any race you are and be related to the characters through adoption or whatever helps you move the story along. I want everyone to feel like they can read my writing.

“Ok we can do this. I mean, we have been together for almost a year. I CAN DO THIS.” You thought. You were currently looking at yourself in the mirror at home getting ready to go out with Jackson for his birthday.

You were looking at yourself wearing a lingerie set that made you usually feel confident, but right now your nerves were getting to you too much for you to feel the confidence boost. Tonight, you wanted not only to make love to Jackson, but also lose your virginity to him too, so you had a lot to be nervous about tonight.

Right as you were about to take off the lingerie, your cell ringed with a text, from Jackson.

Phoenix ❤: Hey Bǎobèi, I’ll be there in less then five minutes. Can’t wait to spend my special day with my special girl <3

“Ok no time to take it off now.” Since you had no time to make any changes, you just threw on your outfit and finished getting ready.

As soon as you put on the last touches of your look, your doorbell rang signaling Jackson’s arrival. You got all you needed for tonight and the card you got Jackson that you may or may not give him and went to answer the door.

“Hey birthday boy, you ready for tonight?” you asked your smiling boyfriend.

“I am so ready Bǎobèi, are you?”

“Yeah, let’s go.” You locked your door, grabbed Jackson’s hand, and walked over to his car.

On the drive over to an all-you-can-eat dim sum and Asian cuisine restaurant you suggested, you were very quiet, which was odd because when you were excited about going somewhere you were talkative, so Jackson was a little concerned.

“Bǎobèi, is everything ok? You haven’t said anything since we left your house.” Saying this, he started rubbing your thigh with his right hand to try and comfort you.

You were so in your head you couldn’t really think about anything else. A debate of whether you should gift yourself to Jackson for his birthday or just pay for all the meals and then get him whatever he asked for, was happening in your head.

“(Y/N)?” He called again finally pulling you out of the war happening in your head.

“Oh, sorry baby. What did you say?” You said finally listening to him.

“I asked if you were ok, but you are spacing out. You wanna just celebrate my birthday another night if you aren’t feeling well? We can just stay in and watch movies.” He suggested more worried about your well being than his night. These were the reasons you loved this man.

“No baby, I’m good I was just lost in thought. Tonight, is all about you, so let’s enjoy it.” Giving him a reassuring smile, you left a kiss on his cheek and held his hand interlocking your fingers. This made him relieved and happy, which made him give you a heart-warming smile in return.

You finally arrived at the buffet after spending the remaining drive talking about how each other’s days went. The interior was bathed in red and gold from the walls to the plates. The design of the interior beautifully met contemporary with traditional. Soon you two were seated in a private booth that you had booked for tonight. The waiter was a very sweet man who brought your drinks fast and told you a little about the restaurant and the menu.

“Wow, this menu has so many different types of dim sum and dishes that include dim sum. I think I’m in heaven!” Jackson excitedly exclaimed after looking over the menu, which had you giggling. You had to admit though that they did provide many options for dim sum.

Before you placed your order though you excused yourself so you could go to the bathroom, leaving all your stuff at the table with Jackson. But unknown to you, the card you got for Jackson caught his attention.

“I-I shouldn’t,” he looked away, but his head slowly looked back towards it. “But it is my birthday and she most likely is going to give it to me anyway. It wouldn’t hurt to have a little peak,” he said as he reached over to get it.

Pulling the card out of the envelope, he reads the front. “You are cordially invited to…” Then he opened it. The blush on his face could rival the red of the tablecloth. The inside of the card read, “fuck the shit out of me,” and at the bottom you signed it saying, “Happy Birthday Baby I hope you like your gift”.

You, his Bǎobèi, were going to finally have sex with him?! He had been patiently waiting to have sex with you and was totally fine with waiting ten more years if he had to because he loved you and respected you, but you decided that tonight was going to be the night.

Before he could put it back, you came back and already saw that he had it. He looked up noticing you and your surprised look. Your face got hot, but you proceed to take your seat while keeping your head down so you could hide the embarrassment.

Reading the tension, Jackson knew he wasn’t supposed to find the card despite the fact it was for his birthday. But either by luck or bad timing, the waiter came over to take your guy’s order, which for a moment got your mind off the fact Jackson read the card and you had to explain it.

After the waiter left with your first round of orders, Jackson and you were left in a weird silence trying to find the right words to say.

“Jackson-“

“(Y/N)-”

You both said something at the same time, which helped break the tension and brought a chuckle out of both of you. You pointed for him to go first, since he was the birthday boy.

“I’m sorry for looking at the card (Y/N). I should have waited for you to give it to me if that was what you wanted to do.” He said giving you a puppy dog look that he somehow naturally possesses.  

Shaking your head you said, “There is nothing to be sorry for I was just nervous about giving you the card, but I am happy you peaked at it because I wouldn’t have had the courage to give it to you.”

“So, you do want to have sex tonight? Is that my birthday present?” he was almost bouncing out of his seat until he saw the uneasy smile on your face. “Unless you are uncomfortable with that, because we can do whatever else.”

This man, how did you get so lucky?

“I’m not uncomfortable with doing it, hell, I’ve been horny for you since I meet you,” this caused both of you to laugh, “It’s just, I’m self-conscious about so many things. My curves, my stretch marks, the fact I’m a virgin.” When you said virgin, Jackson’s eyes widen when you said the last part, which made you uneasy.

“Bǎobèi, you’re a virgin?” You nodded, then looked down ashamed. “You don’t have to be self-conscious about that. Or your curves or stretch marks, that I love so much.” You looked back up at him, seeing nothing but love and sincerity in his eyes, for you. “Whenever you are ready to have sex, we will take it nice and slow.” He placed his hand out, palm up, where you then placed your hand.

Before you could say anything, the waiter came back with your orders.

After the talk, the dinner went on amazingly. The food was great, and the conversation flowed without a hitch with fully belly laughs here and there. The two of you then decided to take a small stroll through the park close by the restaurant before ending the night.

Like the gentleman Jackson is he walked you up to your door.

“(Y/N), thank you for one of the best birthdays I have ever had, thank you for being the best girlfriend and MY girlfriend. I’m truly lucky to have you.” He said while holding you by the waist. He brought up one of his hands to cup your check while kissing you.

The kiss was passionate. It conveyed all his love for you and set ablaze a small flame in you that had been growing all night.

Once you guys pulled apart, you were both panting, staring into each other’s eyes. In that moment it felt like you two were the only people in the world.

“I’m ready.” You said breathily.

Jackson looked confused. “For what?”

You shook your head with a smile at your boyfriend, who found the action cute.

“I’m ready for you to make love to me babe.” While cupping his face, you lean your forehead on his and leave a lingering kiss on his lips.

“Oh, Ok. You lead the way Bǎobèi.”

[ceilingfan5]

10, 16, 18!! mistaken identity, musician, stubbornness

Kravitz isn’t very good at being famous. It makes him tired. He’s mostly interested in music and having a good time, and while being rich makes those things much easier, the fame comes with a certain obstacle, and that’s...fans. Kravitz doesn’t really understand his fans. He plays music for himself, for his own interests, and it’s always sort of surprised him that people were into that sort of thing. Everything has always been secondary to just enjoying the music. 

So when it comes to events with people, Kravitz is always a little out of his element. The tabloids love to joke about him, and how awkward he can be in interviews, especially when they surprise him. He doesn’t go on a lot of dates, which is an endless source of speculation. So his PR agent sets him up with someone for this red carpet event. She texts him to say she’ll send a picture and his profile, but Kravitz’s phone beeps with low battery and he rolls his eyes and stuffs it in his suit pocket. Oops. Whatever. He’ll figure it out. 

He checks his appearance in the elevator’s mirrored walls and practices his blinding smile. Perfect. Not even a little constipated looking. He’ll do fine. And then he steps out, and walks out of the apartment, thanking the doorman, and he looks at the meeting place for his date. There’s no one there, which is a frown-worthy offence. He checks his watch, but he’s painfully on time. He doesn’t just want to stand around like a goobus, and he gets even itchier as the limo pulls up. It’ll wait for him, of course, but he doesn’t want to make the driver wait. 

After a painful minute and a half, one of the most beautiful men Kravitz has ever seen walks toward him. He’s wearing an interesting outfit for a red carpet, but maybe he’s just eccentric. Hell, for all Kravitz knows, gold leggings, purple shorts, and three shawls could be in right now. The loads of tangled jewelry probably is, for sure. Kravitz smiles and steps in front of him so he doesn’t miss him, and the man jumps and does that usual double take people do when they see someone as famous, whether he likes it or not, as Kravitz. 

“Are you my date?” 

This man looks him up and down, and a slow grin spreads on his face. 

“I sure am!”

The limo ride is nice and smooth, although his date, who calls himself Taako, seems excited by every little thing about it. He takes a lot of selfies. Maybe he’s just an excitable person, but in Kravitz’s opinion, if you’ve seen one limo, you’ve seen ‘em all. Taako is interested in fashion and cooking and travel, and he has gorgeous, glittering eyes, and the heels on his boots could be confiscated at the airport. He also does most of the talking, which immediately makes Kravitz fond of him. They step onto the red carpet arm in arm, blinded by paparazzi, and together they steer one another into the event. 

“So, Taako, what are you famous for?” Kravitz says, taking two flutes of champagne and thanking a waiter. 

“Uh, oh, me? My thing? Me?” Taako says with a bizarre giggle that makes cartoon hearts burst in Kravitz’s peripheral vision. “I’m, uh, I’m on TV.”

“Very nice, very nice. I’m a musician.”

“I know,” Taako says, with a bit of a dreamy sigh. “I have all your albums.”

“That’s good to hear.” Kravitz smiles. “My last date wasn’t interested in my music at all, and then I had nothing to talk about. He was some kind of business mogul, I think.”

“That’s a real shame.”

They get hors d'oeuvres and Taako makes Kravitz choke with laughter on a huge shrimp, which he almost spits at a minor Kardashian, and Taako pounds him on the back to make sure there aren’t any other crustaceans in his windpipe.

“Oh fuck, I almost killed Kravitz,” he says, eyes wide. “Your fans would eat me alive.”

“I’m sure your fans would bail you out of jail pending trial,” Kravitz croaks, and they both start laughing again, even though Taako keeps screwing up his lips in this weird expression Kravitz doesn’t understand when he mentions his fans. Maybe he isn’t comfortable being famous either! Wouldn’t that be a dream!

Kravitz introduces Taako to all of the famous faces he can tie to names, and they all make the same sort of dim expression and squint at Taako, asking what he’s from. 

“He’s from TV, obviously,” Kravitz says, after at least the fifth time, getting annoyed. 

“Yeah, obviously,” Taako says with a snort, and they go get more tiny quiches to share. They take a selfie by the big, gorgeous lit up fountain and Taako immediately has to post it on twitter. 

“I don’t really understand Twitter,” Kravitz says, wishing he could be home playing guitar in his pajamas. 

“Good thing you don’t,” Taako says, looking pale, and they start to hear notifications from around the room. The other celebrities start whispering and looking at them, which Kravitz does not care for at all. 

“Is it true you’re dating a nobody?” A stray paprazzo shoves a microphone in Kravitz’s face. Kravitz wrinkles his nose, wondering who let the slime into the actual party. 

“I wouldn’t say dating, yet- wait, what do you mean? Taako’s famous. He’s on TV.”

“Is that true?”

“Of course it is! Why would he lie? Get out of my face and stop bothering my date!”

More swarm, and Kravitz makes an executive decision. He grabs Taako’s wrist and runs. They carve their way through the party and through to the preparations for the next event, startling black-tied workers and people with walkie-talkies. Kravitz, panting, doesn’t stop until they’re in the bathroom together, the door slamming shut behind him. Taako looks at him, and looks at their reflection, and laughs, dissolving into helpless, hysteric giggles. 

“I can’t believe this is real,” Taako mumbles, pushing his bangs out of his face. 

“I’m so sorry about all of that,” Kravitz says. “They have no respect.” 

“No, I should be, you know, sorry, probably,” Taako says. “I’m, uh, I’m not actually- I don’t actually have a TV show. Yet, I mean.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’m not a celebrity, Kravitz.”

Kravitz frowns stubbornly. 

“Of course you are. My PR agent set you up with me.”

“Nah, dog, I was just walking by, and you noticed me.” Taako laughs and sighs, leaning against the wall. “I can’t believe I met you.”

“Well.” Kravitz puts his hands on his hips. “Well. Uh. Hm.”

“Yeah, That about sums it up.”

“Well, Taako. I think. You make a better celebrity than the celebrities I actually know. And I’ve had a great time with you this evening. So...maybe you want to stick around?”

Taako tilts his head like he’s trying to invent a new kind of calculus for birds. 

“You’re not mad at me?”

“Why should I be? You weren’t boring, and I made the mistake. This one’s on me.” 

A slow grin spreads across Taako’s face. 

“Well, if you’re down, I’m down. Let’s go rattle Hollywood.” 

“Only if you don’t try to kill me again.”

They laugh, and they leave the bathroom together, and they face the paparazzi together, and they get tipsy and eat too many hors d'oeuvres together, and when Kravitz gets in trouble with his PR agent for standing up his real date, Taako kisses him on the mouth and makes him forget all about it. All in all, one of the best events Kravitz has been to in years.

[grim-faux]

2 _ 31 _ Reflections

First 

 The rain slapped against the windowsill, the wood soaked entirely and coming apart by slivers as he shifted. For once, he was working at his fingers and not the soft timber. A particularly stubborn splinter between his fingers refused to emerge, so he sat for the time chewing off callouses.

 Far below in the alley, a pack of children skittered through the gray mist racing boats in a gutter. It’s a group of what might be four, it's difficult to take full stock from the angle and how indistinguishable the shapes are. He knows they are pack because they play a game together and appear mostly organized. Games help children figure out cooperation and interdependence, it’d let them get a grip on skills, and other important things. Playing a small game could also pull them from the hostile world they inhabited, and… he didn’t know how to put it into speek. Reset their heads. Lessened the fatigue of struggle for survive, distanced them from the uncertainties they dealt with constantly. Such as food and safe shelter. It was free and light.

 It would be fun to go out there and meet with the other children. See how they did speek, possibly learn where they came from - if they came from beyond the city or knew nothing but the Pale City. Maybe find out where they planned to go next. Could learn about new dangers or unseen threats. Sometimes kids share foods, but not always, it depended on the situation and how plentiful rations were. He wondered who was winning the game. The boats worked well, bobbing along the deep rapids of the gulley and staying afloat despite the turbulent weather.

 Trying to meet other kids wouldn’t be safe. The Thin Man might frighten the child pack or hurt them. Worst could happen, what if chase and turned them into sad little shadows? True, that didn't always happen, but it did happen to Her. And they were not Mono. Not same. The tall thin man was unpredictable, did without reason, does without knowing the why. In all the time he chased the man in the hat, Mono didn't learn much of his ways or whims. Even for him the game was dangerous. Though the tall thin man usually seemed calm and indifferent, it was always very obvious when  someone something irritated him. The Thin Man did give fair warning.

 He shouldn’t be sitting here watching, but he can’t help it. Even if he can’t pack, he still longed for the together. Share foods and speek, watch for someone and then do sleep. Huddle close when it’s cold, and the weather was punishing. Call for friend, work through a hard puzzle. Trick monsters. The sort of stuff kids did.

 The Thin Man keeps Mono, but that is all. The tall thin man is not child, he is the adult. Maybe once a long-long time ago, the man in the hat was child and did hide, flee from danger, and searched for food, or played games. He might’ve had a pack, or not. All of that means nothing, the Thin Man is adult now, and does not understand cardinal laws about the world. He goes where he wants, does whatever he wants, whenever he wants. The man in the hat has no fears. It’s possible he likes keeping Mono because Mono is a strange child with no friends, and Mono couldn't help but chase the Thin Man.

 Or could be the Thin Man thought Mono was funny child. Not a good kind of funny, but a mean kind. Like with the feather. Mono was funny and sometimes that made the Thin Man happy, but that didn't make Mono happy. The man in the hat liked the few things about Mono that were same, but that was the extent of Mono's frail grasp. So little about company he could get the knack of, the Thin Man always changed the rules. Then again, the Thin Man didn't quite want Mono to begin with; he barely seemed to accept that Mono was.

 The thought was always there, like needing to find foods. Ever present in his mind, nagging when he lost sight of the tall thin man. When the man in the hat left for the fabled "danger-ouse places". This wasn't going to last, and Mono was always nervous when the Thin Man became displeased with his doings.

 “Don’t go there.” “You need sleep.” “Not there, child.” “Where are you?” “How did you manage that?” “Spit that out." "No.” “That is a danger.” “I don’t need that.” “No.” “Stop!” “Stay.” “C̷̥͠o̶̜͑m̷̥͗ë̴̬́ ̴͙̂H̶̞͠ȅ̴͓r̵̲̃ḙ̵̓,̸̳̃ ̶͎̅B̴̠̀o̶͈̾y̶͖͘.̸̯̓”

 Adults. They get mad at the weirdest things. Like now, Mono was uncertain where the Thin Man was inside the whole building they were exploring. The tall thin man was put off about... something or another, and before Mono could collect his wits (after the bad fall) the man in the hat had already faded in a flashy crackle. No sign or indication where he went. As such, Mono began wandering through the twisting corridors, and sneaking around the rundown rooms barely holding together; mind set on food things while his senses remained on full alert.

 The Thin Man seemed more broody than the adults normal, and inclined the quiet, dark glare onto Mono a few times. He wasn’t sure what he wanted, what the tall thin man searched for. It had been some while since Mono saw a smile; not while they strolled through the dismal roads, or broken walls into washed out building interiors. They wandered some long while, the tall thin man might be tired like Mono was. Even if lie and said he wasn't to rest, Mono knew better. The dream haunts got the better of him, despite Mono's best efforts. The Thin Man did not do a good job of look after himself.

 If he could find something interesting, the Thin Man would tell him about it. Maybe. Some things he didn’t like to tell Mono about, but other times Mono could find him a new thing. An interesting thing, which the Thin Man would just tell him all about. Sometimes use the big speek, and Mono would be lost in the rumbling buzz. But it was a good sort of lost.

 That task was hard yet. Not much interested the Thin Man. He liked his game, and Mono was glad not to be alone. They both got something from the company. A win.

 Dull vibrations pulsed in the back of his thoughts, demanding Mono pry his focus from the window, with the children so far away. He dropped off the sill and hurried across the decrepit room, aimed for one doorway wherein the already challenged radiance flashed and dimmed. In short time he reached the portal, right when the figure bent shuffled into the room.

 “Did you get to eat?” The man in the hat stood straight and rubbed at his back.

 Mono rubbed at his own back. When the Thin Man gave him a look, he stopped the motion and shook his head. He showed his empty hands and frowned. If there had been food, the Thin Man would’ve gotten something too.

 With a rustling sigh, the Thin Man resumed his listless stride. To his relief, the man in the hat dismissed the window, and in a distorted flicker, abandoned the room entirely. Before the bulbs winked out in the ceiling, Mono made haste to reach the connecting passage. Soon, he would only have the delicate rap of the Thin Man's heels to offer direction. If the wiring didn't work or fizzled out completely due to the Thin Man's presence, he really had to rely on his hearing and the feel of the air. Mono fancied he was becoming pro at that, regardless the frequent bump or stumble over obscure junk.

 The prolonged search resulted in no meaningful results, nothing worthwhile - aside from more of the same rot, the typical invasion of insects chewing through whatever couldn't crawl away. Mono plucked at the edge of his choice hat, trying to pretend his stomach wasn't growling about the injustice of all this. For the life of him, he couldn't remember what it was that he last ate. Let alone when. It wasn't important, but it annoyed him thinking he'd gone so long without something.

 Probably why he couldn't stop chewing on his fingers.

 "Don't do that. Get your hand away from your mouth."

 When the Thin Man leaned through the next doorway, Mono stalled long enough to stick his tongue at the hunched figure. He didn't want to chew on the bandage, the wrapping was set cozy and right, and neat. A good sum of time elapsed since his last incident, best not to get the Thin Man all riled up over minor hurts. Mono wanted to avoid another episode.

 By the ground level of the building, the two returned to the endless storms via a collapsed portion of wall. Thankfully, the Thin Man ventured through roads that lay open and mostly whole, fluttering as a wispy shadow among chunks of ruble evicted off the warped high-rises. The man in the hat's travel was never restricted, not like Mono was. A chasm wasn’t a frightening void to the tall thin man; he could blink out and appear on the other side. For Mono in his unrefined capacity, he always had to search out a way across. And FAST. The tall thin man wasn't prone to wait or call.

 Sometimes, the man in the hat did offer to carry Mono, but Mono was frightened by the idea and shied away from the offered hand. What if he was dropped or fell, or any number of things? Mono liked to have something solid under his feet, or in his grasp. The Thin Man was always dissatisfied with the response, but it was a rare time when he didn’t grab Mono. They could always search for another way. The city sprawling held no shortage of paths or crevices, ladders or suspicious braided blanket ropes dangling. Mono was a crafty boy - if he was permitted the time, he would find a clever route. All while ignoring the Thin Man's baleful glower. Like the tall thin man, Mono didn't need anybody. He could go anywhere on his own.

 It is a very long excursion of the city roads, twisted alleys, roving within the buckling walls of splintered skyscrapers crumbling brick by brick. None of the rooms of the many locations offered anything, aside from maybe a new child's hat or intriguing artifact. The rain prattled constantly, sometimes low roads are swamped by the converging 'rivers'. In some durations the travel is intense, but Mono is never dissuaded. Nothing would stop him. The Thin Man sought cached passages through the ruble of buildings, or utilized the televisions to reach a whole other section of the city. The Thin Man was always first, only because he isn’t a television serial murderer.

 Mono tried to catch himself when he flew out. The television is atop a low table and he tumbled, nearly breaking his wrist. The Thin Man is already moving, and Mono doesn't waste a second to catch up. The building isn’t in that bad of shape, compared to those they passed through from the other side of the screen. The walls at least look whole in this room, and it’s much warmer, not so damp or drafty. Maybe shelter here? The man in the hat always decided.

 The Thin Man opened a door, which led into a large corridor with branching archways and impervious shade beyond each. Flashing and glitching the tall figure reappeared, bypassing the first two entries. In his wake, Mono emerged from the doorway, straying near the wall. When he didn't follow immediately, the Thin Man stopped and looked back.

 Mono idled along the wall trailing the peeling wallpaper with his hand, ever cautious when peering into the first open portal he passed. As suspected, perpetual depths greeted his eyes. He angled his gaze up and up at the stony silhouette, his current hat hiding most of his face. With barely a click in his step, the Thin Man pivoted and resumed his elected course. While Mono ducked into the next doorway, down a flight of steps and toward another corridor barely perceivable, if not for the bulb framing the walls with a gray haze. Not long, he would be back. The man in the hat wouldn't miss him.

 The jingle from televisions carried along the enclosed stairwell, all the while Mono stumbled. Beyond the depressed gleam of radiance, more doors and maybe another passage further along. An intermix jabber of voices stacked in conversation, rambling speek with no meaning, and other melodies crooned out. Among the cacophony of swirled sounds, a Viewer burbled at the television it gaped at.

 Most the doors he couldn't bother with, even if he was confident to shift through the wood panel, Mono still preferred to conserve his energy. He couldn't be certain if he would have the vigor to pop back through, given how famished he was. It limited his search, but the scout wouldn't go far if he got stranded somewhere. Much of his searching was reserved for bare-open dwellings, and likely areas long abandoned and long looted of worthwhile treats. If a residency appeared quiet and the door could be opened, he’d invite himself in. Foremost, he kept a lookout for foods, but he didn’t want to get distracted.

 The self-imposed quest was mostly focused in the rooms with beds and dressers, not the kitchens - not yet. The rooms would harbor castoff things from a world abandoned, a world detached from the one he knew so well. On top of dressers or on nightstands, he might locate something he’d never seen before. However, many of the trinkets couldn’t hold his interest or didn’t reveal enough upon first examination, to really spur the risk to haul it to the Thin Man. He wanted to find another one of the bulb things with the toy inside, since that seemed interesting for a try.

 In the big living room of one residence, he did find a remote! Something he’d searched for endlessly, especially now since lone televisions seemed prone to shut off while the Thin Man was around. The Thin Man didn’t like Mono looking at the devices, unless he was watched. Bleh.

 Also lingering around was a Viewer, plastered to the television and gurgling. Needing a break from all the pointless wandering, Mono perched on a tall desk table and hit the switch, causing the television to blink out. This of course, annoyed the Viewer. With a shriek it swung around and searched for the source of this outrage. How DARE! Before it could lock onto him, near invisible in the shadows, Mono would give it back its stupid television. He just wanted to have a little fun for a bit, no harm.

 This went on and on, the Viewer wailing each time the television powered off, Mono seeing how far he was willing to let it get without the willies getting to him. The nice thing about Viewers was the predictability, despite how obsessed they were. And creepy. As long as he had the remote, everything would be fine-

 Unless the controller switch stopped… working. Right when he shut the thing off, and the Viewer had gotten a few paces too many away from its precious entertainment box.

 Yeah it was a really dumb game, but he’d not had fun like that in a while. At least he had a head start, racing out of the room and shooting down into a crawlspace beneath the floorboards of one room. He really mourned the loss of the remote, he could have used that later.

 The lower floors still held together mostly, which meant he should be extra careful while exploring around. There wouldn’t be openings or breaks he could dive into if trouble reared up, but he wasn’t seeing too many of the Viewers either, despite the singing televisions. He was also a little lost, creeping from one dwelling to the next, all the corridors felt the same despite erosion in the surface and carpet. He was thinking it would be a good time to try retracing his steps, before he became too lost. He was sure the upper floors could be reached, even without the stairwell – planks of wood in the crumbling wall or anything, if he searched hard enough.

 In one of the smaller rooms he did a last search of, he encountered some child standing off to the side. Their presence startled him so much, and they looked just about as terrified by his intrusion, he back peddled and floundered over his own feet. He snatched up his hat and managed to lurch into a run, shooting through the break in the lower portion of the door and fleeing down the winding hall.

 Only to freeze up when the Thin Man dipped under the threshold leading into the very corridor he was in. For lack of direction, Mono swayed back and forth.

 “Hey.”

 The Thin Man gave him a look, intense eyes glittering beneath the bill of his hat. He was chewing on one of those burn sticks.

 “What is it? Stumble onto a hazard?” he posed.

 Mono tipped his head, unsure how to go about this. “N’t good. No safe.” And then he stood there like a dolt, trying to hide his eyes a bit beneath the lip of his hat. “Foods?” He began to panic internally, when the Thin Man approached. Not looking at him, but glaring at the broken door just behind him.

 “No! NoNoNoNo!” He tried to get in the tall figures way, but the man in the hat just stepped over him. A soured ache formed in his gut, he wanted to stop the Thin Man but also could see himself getting knocked aside or hurt if he was more careless. “No! No!”

 “For the last time, there is nothing to fear while in my presence,” he grumbled. “I won't tolerate this. Wait there!” With a snap of his wrist the door creaked open, and in a deep bow the man in the hat vanished, winking out in a distorted shadow. A long and eerie pause followed.

 Mono pressed his hands over his eyes and backed away. What did he do to children that were not Mono? Some sleeps the phantom screech She made woke him up. He never heard her do speek like that. A sad little shadow. He didn’t want to hear anyone else scream like that. He wanted to stop the Thin Man, but he was afraid! A cowered! He kept backing away from the void that now existed beyond the doorway. Sorry! He was sorry! He ran away! He tried....

 “Mono.” The Thin Man called, from within. Sounding distant and haunting. “Come here.”

 “What!” he challenged, without a thought. What did the Thin Man want to show him? Did he plan to make an example of the child? Or, did they escape? He hoped they got out.

 Once more, the Thin Man beckoned. “Come here. Now.” When Mono failed to inspire his legs into moving, the Thin Man provided ample motivation. “Î̸̪̜̐̚ ̶͎̲̘̊̆̈́̎̊̊W̶̨̙͓͂̓̽͝i̵͓͖̖̰̞̒͛́̽͜͝l̶͎͚̼͙̐̋̅̿͝l̶̩͇̯̱̋ ̴͈̰̺̑̈́͜Ṅ̷̛̬̜͑̾̕͠o̷̫̭͗̃̅͆̕͝t̷̗͎͖̏̿̉ ̷̱̫̜̠̎̇̈̂̕Č̵͍͚̒̏̌̋a̴̦̤̙̹͌̔̆̆͒͝l̷̩͖͈̈́̐͒l̸͙͚͖̤̫̮̈̍͒͠ ̴͕̗̩͓̳̟̕ Ȁ̸͎̜̫͍̫̠̆̽g̷͇̙͋a̶̢̯̻̋̉i̴̗̣̭̩̒͊́̚ṅ̴̮͉̿̓͘͠.”

 He shuffled towards the doorway, gut tightening the closer he moved to the gaping entry. What was waiting? Would the Thin Man have the child in his grip, struggling and terrified by his uncertain fate? Or would the other kid be cringing in a corner, white with terror? If the man in the hat wanted him to do... something, he would flee. He would!

 When Mono finally inched his way hrough the threshold, his eyes locked immediately on the towering figure standing by the wall. A little flutter of relief swirled in his chest, upon spying both of the long arms crossed over the narrow chest. That relief almost popped, when the Thin Man settled his gaze on him. He tugged the sides of his hat down around his face.

 “There’s no need to be frightened,” he crackled. “It was only your reflection.”

 Baffled, Mono shifted his gaze aside and searched. Reflection? He nearly jolted backwards when he spied the child again, instead, this time he stumbled. What was that! The other child appeared flabbergasted as well as lost. What was this?! No, wait… they were wearing his hat. That was His HAT!

 He kept his distance, glaring. The other child followed his lead. Perfectly mimed. This was very confusing and disconcerting, to have a someone imitate him so perfectly. Something was wrong here.

 “You’ve never seen a real mirror before, have you?” He felt like the Thin Man was mocking him again. Before he realized anything is afoot, he’s being pressed forward by a hand. “It won’t hurt you. Have a look.”

 “No….” Mono tugged the hat down fully over his face, but couldn’t get away from the grasp insisting he address this other fake Mono. He dug his toes into the dirty carpet trying to press back, until the forceful hand withdrew. He collected himself and tugged his hat up, fully prepared to retreat… but he was nearly at the doppelganger. Could make out the color of his coat, the details of his hat, his very dour and annoyed expression.

 It was like staring into a window, and someone you’ve never seen before looked back. But he knew them from somewhere. The surface was a bit dusty, the edges tinged with corrosion, but for the most part the window was intact. They were separated. He crept in closer and closer, teetering on the fringe of flight. The closer he moved, the more defined and clear the outlines of the other child became in the dull light.

 Reaching out cautiously, his palm slapped the cold barrier. Solid. He gazed at the other face gawking back, and very slowly reached up. The copy mimicked faithfully, as he pushed the hat off his head. He tried to recall a time when he had viewed himself in such utter clarity, but had nothing. Unless to check for an injury or something, seeking a reflective surface was redundant. Finding a surface that offered anything but distorted complexions, was something else entirely. He never really stopped to look at himself, take in the face the world hated.

 “It’s you,” the Thin Man rumbled.

 “T’s me. Aam Mono,” he hummed. Tentatively, he reached up and touched at his hair, pushed it one way then parted it the other, ruffled the clumpy strands. He tugged at his ears, studying the curls and overall form. Then, mushed at his cheeks and tugged at his lips, made some faces. So that’s what those looked like. He had to look at his teeth, see the crazy gap the missing tooth made. Neat! The spot in his gum looked ugly but didn't hurt. He twirled around, admiring the fantastic coat and all its stitch work. The collar was bent, so he fixed that. Overall, he was a very good looking Mono.

 A little higher in the window surface, he could observe the Thin Man. Smiling.

 “Come? Look.” He leaned away from the glossy pane, peering up at the man in the hat. Who was no longer smiling.

 “No. I’d rather not… tarnish the reflection.”

 Mono returned his attention to the mirror Mono and looked aside. This didn’t count as anything that would make the Thin Man happy. He sat for a moment and nibbled his fingers, having a think. He was… already bored with the mirror, too. The novelty wore off before he knew it. He was still Mono, the world still hated him. The mirror couldn't tell him why. But....

 “Same,” he murmured. Touching his cheek. “N’same.” He turned to the Thin Man and curled his fingers around his eyes. He offered a smile.

 “That we do.”

 The response kind of caught Mono. But the man in the hat knew everything already, and then didn’t say. “Reason?”

 The Thin Man exhaled a thread of smoke. And shrugged. Otherwise, no explanation or insight was given. Not even an excuse.

 “See… n’me you?”

 Another sigh, but the Thin Man sighed wouldn’t look at Mono. “Saw some of me, in you.”

 “Oh.” He was glad there wasn’t a child in this room. This wasn’t much better, but at least no one else got hurt. He tugged at a thread in the roll of his pant leg. “Tell story?” He is a little disappointed when the Thin Man turned away and bent under the doorframe.

 “No, this is not the time nor place for silly stories.”

 Mono snapped up his hat and climbed to his feet, rushing after the gradually retreating figure. “But story?” He hastened his pace to stay beside the Thin Man, bouncing or skipping between every two or three steps.

 “You won’t like the story, I can tell you that. One day though, it will be your story, and it will hurt.” A trail of smoke left his lips.

 Hurt? So many queries blossomed within his thoughts. Was there a fix? A way to stop hurt? The Thin Man knew, but couldn't fix. Though maybe....

 “But… same, be'fer t'hide. And t'flee. Then you, w’th me. Do t's together....” The Thin Man ceased walking and gave him a full on glare. Mono staggered sideways, halting his panicked speek. This wasn’t good. Asking questions wouldn’t work, and the Thin Man didn’t like repeating himself.

 “M’sorry,” Mono mumbled, smothering his words. The man in the hat didn't like the S speek. “Rr’sad? N’yu not say, f'hurt?” He inched closer to the Thin Man’s shoes and raised his arms. If he wanted to, the Thin Man could hold him. Getting snared or clutched frightened him, the mood of the tall thin man was always strange and mystery, Mono never really knew what might happen. But it might make the man in the hat feel better. That too was an unknown.

 Instead, the Thin Man bent over and ruffled his hair. “Never mind that. Let’s move along, I do not believe there will be much food in this place.”

 Mono is still put off by the dismissiveness, but he shouldn’t have pushed. He wanted answers, but the Thin Man wasn’t happy in speek about those sort of tricky topics. He liked explaining other boring trivial pieces, but not when it came to the important questions. Her. The Tower. Other children. Sad little shadows. The bits and pieces of a different world, with different pictures, and different meanings. It could be like dream haunts, it was taboo to ask friends about them. That seemed like a valid reason, despite how it burned up in Mono to know more, anything. So much same in Mono, but wouldn't utter why. Could other children... be....

 The tall figure renewed his fluid stride, exhaling a stream of vapor as he went. Mono plopped his hat on and followed, as usual. In silence, as typical. Questions hovered in his mind but for now he would stash them aside, until a safer time. Perhaps when they settled in a calm and good area, then the tall thin man would want to do share speek. Could be interested if Mono copied picture speek from a book, and made a different sort of book? That seemed like a fun idea, and then, he could show the Thin Man how to make it work. Even if the Thin Man knew everything already, it would be happy to pretend he found something new for the Thin Man.

 The Thin Man maybe only kept Mono because of all the same. Too much of the same, or maybe not enough. He couldn’t really figure out anything of why, the man in the hat did what he did. All of anything he did, was for himself. Yet, he made Mono a part of that, and that was okay. No one else wanted Mono.

 He thought though, that the Thin Man’s lip twitched. He wasn’t sure what he did, but it faded the more he persisted with queries. Mono asked the hard questions, the ones that made the man in the hat dig for something... else. A place where the answers lay, beneath the questions, shrouded by the purpose of doing a something. The Thin Man didn't like giving answers or reasons, because like dream haunts, he had to find where the answers came from. The Thin Man was a strange and troubled adult, brimming with dark thoughts alongside the difficult unknowns. Adults would always be hostile and angered by anything that didn't belong, but the Thin Man wasn't like that. He was mostly just grumpy.

Next

[vulpes-incendium]

I made this long time ago, but I thought it's a good time to share it here for @aphasiaweek!

I chose 《Hoi Sam☆Nice Guy》over 《Maji Kandou☆Hong Kong Night》because there are more stuff about HK in it. So let's see if the lyrics are accurate in a native's point of view!

Spoiler alert: it's very accurate

Hoi Sam = Happy (in Cantonese)

Guy = sounds like street in Cantonese (gaai1)

“Yooooo, so since there’s a song… while I’m at it I kinda put some effort into my costume… I think I’ve got like, serious swag Pardon? You can’t see me…for real? Woah!!!!”

FASHION: yes, HKers love to be trendy, always want to be on top trends! Trends come and go very very quickly, it's seriously really hard to follow trends in HK.

MIXING ENGLISH WITH CANTONESE: yup, we do that a lot, we almost couldn't finish a sentence without English, some words just sound "uncool" in Chinese lol (it’s always about being cool in HK lol), but we don't really say “pardon” unless we are speaking English

Sup-sup-sup-sup-sup-super mobile (snap snap) It’s my hobby to take pics and collect them (I guess) Not gonna lie, everyone’s got a mobile phone, penetration rate (highest in the world) Yeah! If you’re going sightseeing then Nathan Road! (Fuu~!)

TAKING PICS WITH SMARTPHONE: Aph HK loves taking (embarrassing) photos (of China lol), but in real life HKers do love taking pictures, or videos too (it's dangerous if you misbehave, people would film you and post on Youtube or Facebook)

MOBILE PHONE PENETRATION RATE: I couldn't find data for HK, but I think I heard on average, each HKer carries at least 2 cellphones! So this could be true!

NATHAN ROAD: It's the longest street in HK and there's so many things, good food, good shopping places and yup sightseeing! (A lot of our streets are named after the Governors during the colonial time, this street is named after Sir Matthew Nathan for example)

Welcome this makes me kinda happy (Check it out!) Learned this from England - tea in the afternoon (high tea) Welcome, this is kinda fun (Shake it up!) Yum cha, Hong Kong milk tea, cha-cha Nice culture (frivolous)!

AFTERNOON TEA: Yes, it's still a tradition for us to have tea time, we call it 3:15, workplaces would have tea breaks, restaurants do tea time menu during 2-5pm, it's really cool and cheap! We usually drink HK milk tea (evolved from British milk tea) during tea time and there are so many delicious snacks like French toast, pineapple bun and of course egg tart!

YUM CHA: It literally means “drink tea”, but Chinese tea this time. It's a tradition for us to go Yum Cha every Sunday with our family! Dim sum is part of Yum Cha! We just eat and catch up with each others for HOURS!

Oh. My. God. “LOHAS LOHAS” Oh. My. Mind. “Gonna take a pic~” Take away “Is this delivery service for real?” Like, seriously, even if it’s way out of the way, no problem man

LOHAS: I didn't know what this refers to for a long time, I finally found the answer. This refers to LOHAS park, an eco-friendly residential area newly built few years ago. But what's so special about it? Is it famous in Japan?!

DELIVERY SERVICE: Well delivery service in Asia are generally good anyway, but I guess we are good and fast?! (but I think Korea too!)

Super Feeling unlucky? If it’s getting to you, go villain hitting at Ngo Keng Kiu A medium will perform an exorcism, and hit a paper doll with a shoe For fortune telling, go draw fortune sticks, or get a divine answer by throwing moon blocks at the temples… at Wong Tai Sin, light the fire of your incense! If you’re feeling tired, maybe you can give Feng Shui a try or something? A spiritual site in Lantau Island The Wisdom Path…is super Awesome for meditation, but there aren’t any toilets, so watch out Gold fish, bring me luck! (In money!)

NGO KENG KIU: Generally HKers are not THAT superstitious, but the culture still lives within us. I have never known anyone who did the villain hitting, but it's still quite a thing (and a great tourist spot). It's mainly for people who backstab you (we call them "small people" siu yan), but I guess evil spirit too.

WONG TAI SIN: Again, it's more for older generation who are still a bit superstitious. People like to go to Wong Tai Sin Temple during Lunar New Year to wish for luck in the new year. It's still quite popular!

See I told you we have natural landscape (source)

WISDOM PATH: I've never been there lol. Apparently it's a "path lined with 38 wooden monuments inscribed with the Heart Sutra prayer". In general, HK has a lot of nice hiking trail, our landscape is actually amazing, it's just we focus too much on making money...

P-Pe-Pe-Pearl of the Orient is me! (I guess?) Got completely wasted? Ended up in a dress (totes sick) Not gonna lie, population density is highest in the world in Ap Lei Chau Yeah! If you’re going sightseeing then Hong Kong Island! (Yeah~!!)

PEARL OF THE ORIENT: It's the nickname of HK, the Philippines is Pearl of the Orient SEAS

(Ending up in a dress refers to this comic, thanks parallel France!)

POPULATION DENSITY: Yea, that's what we are famous for really, small place lots of people (HK is a very hilly city, surprise, surprise), we have the most expensive estate price in the world 🤦‍♀️, not sure if Ap Lei Chau is particularly population-densed, but the whole HK is like that!

Good luck in everything this makes me kinda happy (Check it out!) Learned this from England - how to be a gentleman (ladies first) I wish you good health, this is kinda fun (Shake it up!) Typhoon, Kung Fu, WA-TAHH Supplements, Chinese herbal medicine (healthy~!)

LUCK: The newer generations are less superstitious now, but luck is still kind of important for us? It's more like a tradition than a belief, we do them just in case (like Feng Shui).

TYPHOON: As a coastal city, we get typhoons a lot in summer, but they are not as strong in comparison to the Philippines or Indonesia.

KUNG FU: We are known for our Kung Fu films, as the actors are all trained martial artists! Bruce Lee (WA-TAH was his catchphrase), Jackie Chan and Donnie Yen are great examples! Because of the wars and Cultural Revolution, many people fled China to HK, resulting the influx of high quality martial artists (eg. Ip Man).

HERBAL MEDICINE: As western as we are, we still believe in Chinese Medicine, but more in a preventative way.

Oh. My. God. “Air conditioning in full blast!” Oh. My. Mind. “That’s not eco-friendly…” Oh well “The air will become cleaner, I think?” Seriously a Mistake, but, no problem man

STRONG AIR-CONDITIONING: This line had me laugh die (Imao in Cantonese)! It's so accurate! You can catch a cold from the airconditioning in HK! And that's why we always carry a jacket even in summer! It's not very eco-friendly and our government is trying resolve that.

AIR POLLUTION: Yes we have smog (smoke + fog), it is becoming quite the problem really. The root of the problem is that Shenzhen, the city next to HK, is developing rapidly and a lot of factories moved there, so the smoke is blown towards HK (we don't really have many factories left, it's too expensive here).

Awesome Riding on a roofless bus, cruising through the neon streets If you want to, like, go shopping… at Ladies Market There are stalls with cute stuff, souvenirs (lots and lots of them) Talk the price down! Haggling is what really counts For some more miscellaneous and deep junk, more for the adult and thrilling The street where mystery thickens… Temple Street Would you like to try some cheap eats at the street stalls? Absolutely delicious! Asian food is the best!

NEON LIGHTS: You've all seen the stereotypical HK streets full of neon lights, but it's actually decreasing, because there's no newcomers to the industry (the lights are handmade).

LADIES MARKET: You can find so many stuff there indeed, for a cheap price! Branded stuff, fake stuff (we don't make them but yea you can find a lot of them), food and goldfish. Yes, there's a goldfish street. Why? I dunno, for luck I guess?!

TEMPLE STREET: Similar to ladies market, it's also great for shopping. This street is also known for (illegal) prostitution and triad, but it's still safe to visit, never in my life have I encountered any of them.

“Yoooooo, Mister, so I kinda sang this song, but seriously, rapping is surprisingly, like, tough?” “It’s also a shame that no one can see what I’m wearing, I’ve got serious swag, y'know.” “Phew… I kinda want to go home already… I mean, the peach buns are gonna be sold out.” “…can we go now?” “…can’t we go yet?” “Haah…” “Okay fine, like, whatever.”

One, two, three!*

PEACH BUN: They are actually eaten on birthdays, for longevity (that's what peach represents in Chinese culture).

*this line was spoken in Mandarin in the song, which would be the only critism I'd give. Yes a lot of people may understand Mandarin, but Cantonese and English are preferred and they are our official languages. One, two, three in Cantonese would be "yaat, yi, sam".

Oh. My. God. “The rent is really expensive…” Oh. My. Mind. “It’s not easy…” Why oh why? “It’s like, the highest in the world” We have serious inflation, but, whatever

EXPENSIVE RENT: We are the most expensive in the world, thanks to the high population density (and foreign buyers 😶), it's really not easy to afford a flat in HK, that’s why most HKers live with their parents until they get married (it’s also a cultural thing).

INFLATION: Stuff are still relatively cheap, but they are getting more expensive really quickly, mainly because of the rent of the shops.

Super they’re so adorable it hurts, the perfect balance of black and white pandas that bring you happiness… we sell them, sort of So fluffy and cute, such big round eyes The kinda? Make you Happy! Uh-huh

PANDAS: We actually only have 2 pandas here like everyone else, in Ocean Park (it's like an amusement park and zoo). They finally successfully mated recently, probably because of Corona shutdown lol!

There are over 100 of them, Tin Hau Temple, so super Before I head there, I seriously wanna eat… mango pudding! So many gods, like, one in every street Pay homage at the temple, light the fire of your incense!

TEMPLES: We still have the temples built before the colonial time! Hopefully, we are able to keep them too...

MANGO PUDDING: It's so good yes! Our dessert culture is just the best seriously! We have so many restaurants just for desserts! They are great places to hang out with friends after work or school!

The air conditioning at its max, the fire burning strong A steaming hot pot made with a carefully chosen soup base If you want to detox, have a Chinese herbal hot pot Absolutely delicious! Asian food is the best! Riding on a roofless bus, cruising through the neon streets If you want to, like, go shopping… at Ladies Market There are stalls with cute stuff, souvenirs, lots and lots of them Talk the price down! Haggling is what really counts Absolutely delicious! Asian food is the best! Every minute Happy☆Nice Town (Guy)

HOT POT: We love it! We basically love when a lot of people sit together, talking, sharing food (like Yum Cha), it's the harmony and atmosphere that we like so much! And yes, there are a lot of different soup base you can choose from!

BARGAINING: Yes do it, especially if you're in places like Ladies' Market and you're a foreigner, they do price things up if you don't look like a local.

***

Shout out to Takagi Motoki, the voice actor of HK, his voice fits the character perfectly! (and please get a new va for the new season please funimation) And how can he speak so fast?!

[thekavseklabs]

💣 ⛈️ 🦄

This got loooooong because I wasn't sure which muses you wanted me to do it for so i did them ALL and put it under a readmore!

💣: A stress headcanon

3: Just... Look at them. Everything stresses them the fuck out. But let's focus on something specific- they're seriously germaphobic, and have NO coping mechanisms for this! They are always, always stressing about what they're touching and what is touching them and what they're breathing and oh god oh shit where is the hand sanitizer they need to DRINK IT-

C: Now, C struggles with this tendency to dehumanize strangers, but if they don't do that? If they awknowledge youre a person? Oh boy. They are so anxious about what people think of them. Are you scared of them? Do you hate them? Do you know what they've done? Are you going to hurt them for it? They are freaking out.

Vynathr: The man is rarely more stressed than when he is in a crowd. So many sights and sounds, he is surrounded, his back exposed, his movement limited, and he can't process any of it. He's terrified that he'll hurt someone somehow, or that the crowd will become violent. It will leave him frazzled for the rest of the day and the next morning too.

Spades: I don't talk about it often but Spades has an empire of his own to lead! He's always busy, and when he's not working he's thinking about work. Slowly taking over larger and larger areas, extending and expanding his forces, keeping loyalty and keeping all at arms-length. He's about one bad day away from exploding from the stress and work of it. Someone give the poor boy a massage and a snuggle.

Xavier: Being an alcoholic and a pathological liar leading a crew of pirates is... Not always a fun time. He has to handle all of the smart and responsible things to do, keep a budget for food, and keep them all from getting killed while lacking any healthy coping mechanisms for dealing with all of this. Man is on the world's shittiest glamorized rollercoaster and there is no end to the loops and spins.

⛈️: A sadness headcanon

3: Their feeling of being unworthy and unwanted has persisted through their life. They have considered many times the sum of their actions. They know that dying will not fix anything, only make it worse. Or worthless. But they know that if they succeed in their experiments, they will become a core- and at times, they wonder if those downsides they have heard of are downsides at all. Wouldn't it be nice if their sins were erased by the warp of time whem they are gone?

C: C has never been pet on the head. Never had a parent to do so, never a loved one. Even in verses where their mother is alive, she does not love them to do so, and neither did their babysitters. The closest they've come is a friendly pat on the arm from an opponent after a good fight. They long for touch more than anything in the world.

Vynathr: He remembers being a kit. Remembers being cradled in his mothers arms as she tried to hide him from their slave masters, remembers the horror in her eyes. Remembers the sounds of screams. He remembers as well the feeling of her hand in his short hair, her beautiful hum, her well wishes. Her fingers which seemed so large clutched in his little hands as his unsteady paws carry him across the floor in his first steps, supported by her patience. He remembers being loved when he was nothing. He knows that now that he is something, he must be something bad, because no one loves him.

Spades: He was in love before he ran to earth. He never got the chance to say so, and would never go back to try. If asked, he would not tell you the name of this individual- only that he knew that he was loved in return. Perhaps this was what stung him the most. Oh, how he misses that fool of a boy. He hopes he's okay, wherever he is now.

Xavier: He had a little sister. One of his many necklaces he wears at all time is actually a locket, containing two pictures of them. The first is them looking excited, grinning with their arms around each other. They seem to be at a party or dance of some kind. His sister is holding a wrapped box. The second is them snuggled together, his arm around her. She's asleep, and he looks content, nearly asleep himself. There are two larger adult figures half out of frame on each side, arms wrapped around the children. The lighting is dim in both. He misses these moments more than anything, and cries over the locket often.

🦄: A physical health headcanon

3: They are just, physically gone to shit. They have Marfan syndrome with moderate to severe damage, an eating disorder, severe dietary issues, an exremely weak immune system, insomnia, and periodic bouts of severe illness. Not to mention old injuries from experiments that act up at times, and in fantasy verses, the red plague/consequences of blood magic gone severely wrong. They are typically quadriplegic, and this is less serious but they're pretty nearsighted too. They look like death warmed over at all times. God help them.

C: You would think that a cyborg would be in stellar physical health. You would be wrong. They have bouts of a strange illness called Reversal, in which their body malfunctions due to their unusual diet. It involves fever, chills, spasms, hallucinations, abdominal and throat pain, and vomiting at times- said vomiting is dangerous to others considering they essentially eat time-and-space-warping acid formed from pure life force. 0/10, would not reccomend.

Vynathr: He has gigantism, however, he's very lucky in that it has pretty much only affected his height. His face (and specific facial features), hands and feet are proportional, as are his organs. He doesn't suffer from muscle weakness (obviously... Look at him), double vision, the sweating, restricted movement, none of it. Extremely lucky indeed. He does suffer from hearing issues, and his puberty was delayed. Due to the differences in how humans and kei grow, I will note that the abnormal growth did not begin until after he left the "kit" stage, which took a very long time for him. The growth ended in his lower 20s. He does have various other physical health stuff i could talk abt but I thought I'd get specific about the gigantism this time.

Spades: Spades is farsighted, and this does impact his ability in combat. His depth perception is also slightly off at times. He struggles with eating at times, and requires occasional doses of Progressive Energy- you know, that spacetime warping acid formed from pure life force. Very fun. It gives him fevers sometimes, the rare occasional spasm, but thankfully not the rest of C's illness. He uses a cane, leg braces, or crutches sometimes, depending on severity of pain and stiffness in his bad leg that day.

Xavier: The man is at his peak right now, but that could end at any time. He smokes, drinks, and does various drugs- at some point that is definitely going to impact his health, if he doesn't get injured first. He suffers a few bodily aches as well due to old injuries, such as stiffness and pain, occasional limited range of motion from a bad dislocated shoulder he once got on the battlefield. He has tinnitus and headaches at times as well, and there's some shrapnel in him. That's not even getting into the whole missing hand and the struggles that come with that.

[blackswaneuroparedux]

Anonymous asked: As a staunch royalist I would be interested to hear your views about Prince Harry and Meghan Markle deciding to quit the British royal family. Did they do the right thing or are they just being selfish and ‘woke’? Does this ‘Megxit’ the British royal family is in crisis and its future looks bleak by this act of betrayal to the Queen?

Short answer:

I have been avoiding answering this question precisely because I became tired of hearing about it around the family dinner table or with friends when I visited England recently or now with French friends here in Paris who can’t fathom what is going on. But too many have asked about this in my blog inbox.

I don’t mean to sound so dismissive but to me it’s just a passing storm in a tea cup rather than some cataclysmic crisis of the British monarchy. Everyone should stop take a deep breath.

After the joint press statement by Prince Harry and the Duchess of Sussex statement came out on 8 January 2020 it set in motion the usual hilarious pastiche of Cold War Kremlinology by the British press.  So at any one time you had sensationalist and sanctimonious headlines such as the fury of the palace press knew no bounds. How dare they? The Queen humiliated. The palace insulted. And so on and so on.

Every newspaper editor knows there is a yawning gulf between the “public interest” and what interests the public. By any standards, Harry and Meghan have become huge celebrities. They were idolised, their charities blessed, their presence craved. Unfortunately such is human nature, the public invest something of themselves in their heroes. They see in their idols a reflection of their own fantasies and delights, hopes and fears. When they witness celebrities traumatised it can be unsettling, as the death of Princess Diana vividly showed. People cried in the street.

As Harry knew from his mother’s tragic experience, all this is par for the royal course. The British newspapers - or rather those peddling in royal tittle tattle such as the Sun, Mirror, and the Daily Mail - have a habit of erecting pedestals one minute and then the next minute they enjoy destroying the icon in the name of the public interest. Andrew’s former wife, Sarah Ferguson, was appallingly treated. So at times were Princess Anne, and Prince Edward’s wife, Sophie. Press attention should be water off the royal duck’s back. Prince Philip’s advice was reportedly: “Don’t read the bloody papers.”

While Harry was brought up surrounded by the furies of the celebrity media, Meghan’s career was the opposite. In her profession as a known actor (albeit a middling TV actor at that), image is an artifice, daily crafted and laundered by publicists.

This does not work with British royalty, which comes with its own carefully minted image attached. Its rituals are those of mind-numbing deference. It has no accountability. The only mirror it has is the press. The tabloids are the price that must be paid for adulation. They honour no discretion and have no sense of fairness. The press is a memento mori, whispering into the victor’s ear that he – or she – is only mortal. And gosh do they take that role on with sanctimonious glee. 

To be daily compared to the Duchess of Cambridge, from an utterly different social background, must have been intolerable for Meghan: the dress comparisons, the stuffiness of the court, its hyper-caution and obsession with precedence and procedure, added to the impossibility of contact with ordinary people. As a self-made millionaire already perhaps she wanted to be more than a mere civil servant in a tiara. Perhaps it proved too much but who really knows? But then I don’t know what else she expected when she decided to marry into the British royal family.

Similarly one can only speculate how much it was really Prince Harry who wanted to drop out riding on the royal carousel as he has been since birth. Regardless of who he married perhaps this was always the plan. His loathing of the British press and paparazzi is well known - he still blames them for his mother’s tragic death in Paris. It’s well known the paparazzi have tried to catch him out in manufactured scandals as he grew up. He has refreshingly come clean and has talked about how he still goes to therapy over his mother’s death. It’s no wonder he would ever subject a future wife and especially a child to the level of press intrusion that he had endured.

Prince Harry is nobody’s fool. I won’t say a bad word about him because - unlike previous and present royals with the exception of his grandfather, Prince Philip, who did active naval service during the Second World War and his uncle Prince Andrew, who as a naval officer flew Sea King helicopters during the Falklands War - he didn’t play the ceremonial toy soldier. After Eton he worked his arse off to get through Sandhurst and got commissioned with the Blues and Royals regiment. Upon the outbreak of war in Iraq, he was alleged to have said around 2006, “There's no way I'm going to put myself through Sandhurst and then sit on my arse back home while my boys are out fighting for their country.”

As it was the military chiefs got cold feet and pulled him out. But he did see active service with the British forces in Afghanistan with two tours. By all accounts he acquitted himself very well as a Forward Air Controller in Helmand Province and later as a co-pilot and gunner on Apache helicopters. He was widely respected and accepted by rank and file because he was down to earth and never asked for special treatment.  He wasn’t a typical ‘Rupert’ - a squaddie’s nickname given to British army officers who typically came from privileged aristocratic backgrounds but were also ‘nice but dim witted’.

Overall I sympathise that the Sussexes’ predicament was clearly desperate, and it is perhaps to their credit that they have brought it to a head early and not let it drag on. I feel they are sincere in their reasons to ’step back’ from the royal family and frenzied media circus around it. The fact they want to pay their own way and pay back any outstanding sums back to the royal household is perhaps a sign of that sincerity.

Instead some sections of the British press rolled out the tired old trope of the parallels between the Duke of Sussex and his great-great uncle, the Duke of Windsor, are overwhelming. Once again, a dashing, sporting, ex-military prince leaves royal life for the love of an American divorcée. This is exactly the opposite of what Edward and Mrs Wallace Simpson did when they bit the hand that fed them. They took money to support their lavish lifestyle in exile from the Queen and all the while took every opportunity to snark the fledgling young Queen from their own alternative royal court in Paris. Harry no doubt loves his grandmother and his family and would try not sully the Windsor name.

Where I would be critical a little is in their handling of it which appears naive at best and inept at worst. I suspect - since verified - that having a transatlantic split of publicists, and in addition didn’t understand the full import of how this would play out, would inevitably drop the ball. But I would extend a finger of blame to the palace courtiers who were involved in their own games of intrigue with a whispering campaign to selected journalists of the press. Indeed multiple newspapers, including the Daily Telegraph in the UK, reported that the queen was “disappointed” with the surprise announcement, and had asked the Sussexes to hold off on issuing a public statement. When The gossip mongering Sun newspaper published a front-page story that the couple was contemplating a move to Canada, the Sussexes pushed the button on their statement.

I do think the Sussexes  and their advisors were fooling themselves into thinking that they could have their cake and eat it - in other words keep the royal titles but cut back on the public and ceremonial duties. The blunt truth is if you want to stay on the books, you do so by the leave of the firm and its boss i.e. The Queen. The contract is for life. If not, you resign. There is no half in and half out. This seems to have been the gist of the family only summit at Sandringham in January 2020, with media attention worthy of the Treaty of Versailles.

I am frankly surprised how worked up people are about this. Cut out the white noise and the picture is more prosaic.

The first point is that when all is said and done, none of this drama really matters. Politically, constitutionally, it is an irrelevance. Harry, at number six, is not seriously in line to the throne. The British monarchy has long shown itself immune to crisis; indeed I wonder sometimes if it welcomes crises as implying continued importance. The divorce and death of Princess Diana were awfully tragic, as was the very public shaming of Prince Andrew and his questionable friendship with billionaire paedophile Jeffrey Epstein. But how Harry leads his life is between himself, his wife and his father, Prince Charles. That is the point of heredity. It is immune to character, as it is to merit.

The second point is we should remember that other European royal families, of the same constitutional status as Britain, have been down sizing for many years now. These royal families balanced privacy and discretion whilst holding down ordinary professions. The King of the Netherlands, Willem-Alexander, is still an airline pilot. He occasionally flies KLM jets, safe in the knowledge that few people recognise him. In 2001 Prince Haakon, heir to the Norwegian throne, married a single mother with a drug-fuelled past. Despite some controversy, he survived incognito. 

The King of Sweden, Carl XVI Gustaf, has reigned for 46 inconspicuous years as a nine-to-five job, his family merged into the Swedish bourgeoisie. The Crown Princess, Victoria, works intermittently for the UN. The King of Spain, Felipe VI, may have taken after his philandering father, Juan Carlos, but he became king without fuss on his father’s retirement in 2014. None of these “houses” has an extended state-subsidised royal family. None has grown unstable as a result.

There is no doubt that the exploitation of the British royal family celebrity by palace courtiers as PR handlers has worked. The royal family recognises that truth for itself when HRH King George VI famously quipped, “We are not a family, we are a firm”. The Queen is regularly cited as central to “UK plc” and to tourism. The British people remain overwhelmingly in favour of retaining monarchy as the focus of their patriotism, even during the wobble over Diana’s death. Republicanism is dead. The last ostentatious republican, the Fife MP Willie Hamilton, left parliament in 1987. If Scotland ever went independent it would almost certainly retain the Queen as head of state.

As for how royalty behaves, a constitutional monarchy should be beyond all controversy. As the great political and constitutional commentator (and founder of the Economist magazine) Walter Bagehot put it, “the monarch should be a dignified rather than efficient element of the constitution”. In other words, the monarchy as personified in its reigning king or queen can represent the whole nation in an emotionally satisfying way - everything else is but pure embellishment.

The Queen must be a glorious anthropomorphism of the nation as a whole. If she has opinions, she keeps them to herself - much to her credit. The contrast is clear with countries where state headship is combined with an elected executive presidency. The state risks being tainted by partisanship: witness the embarrassment many Americans feel at having their national loyalty identified with any president based on divided partisan feelings e.g. from FDR to Obama and Nixon to Trump.

A rare occasion when the monarch might overstep the mark was conjectured by Mike Bartlett in his ingenious play, King Charles III, in 2014. It was based on the present Prince of Wales as king, refusing formally to sign a bill censoring the press (good on him). In the resulting crisis, William and Kate engineer Charles’s abdication, while the tearaway Harry takes up with a republican girlfriend. It was not wholly implausible. When Belgium faced a similar crisis over King Baudouin’s refusal to sign an abortion bill in 1990, he was allowed to abdicate for a day.

How the monarchy conducts itself is not wholly irrelevant. It is part of the collective context in which the nation’s politics are enacted. It represents tradition and upholds precedent. It sets boundaries and dictates a courtesy in the conduct of public affairs - however often that courtesy is infringed. What outsiders forget (especially our American friends) is that the British political system is gloriously resilient, as the past three years of Brexit hell have shown. It can tolerate the odd eccentricity, such as the blatant purchase of parliamentary seats in the House of Lords. But the question is how far such eccentricity can extend. 

The present heir to the throne, Prince Charles, is deft at stepping mildly out of line. His views on architecture, health and the environment are not overtly partisan. But it does not matter as he is no more “powerful” than a newspaper or television commentator. His influence is that of celebrity. I would rather have the heir to throne engage intelligently in public debate than arrogantly indulge in the sordid sexual antics of his younger brother, Andrew.

For all his perceived faults, Prince Charles knows his limits. To expect such controlled nuances in the constitutional mystique of royalty to apply to an ever larger family has always been an accident waiting to happen. More prescient is the fact that the current system will impose the same disciplines and direct the same public exposure on an ever widening array of royal offspring as the years go by. I feel genuine sympathy for the royal children. Most British minors have their faces blanked out on camera, but not royal ones. They are sentenced to be recognised for life.

As a nation then we are extremely fortunate that Prince Harry is no more militant than in defence of the planet, wild animals and injured military veterans - all worthy causes if we are honest to admit it. Full disclosure: as an ex-veteran, I do give charitable donations to Invictus Games Foundation, the multi-sports event put on for wounded, injured or sick armed services personnel and their associated veterans. Prince Harry was instrumental in founding the Invictus Games in 2014 on his own initiative so that we never forget the courage and sacrifice of our military veterans.

What is already clear is that the Sussexes intend forthwith to redraw the lines of engagement with the press. They are opting out of the Royal Rota, the arrangement whereby, for decades, the royals have given access to a pool reporter from the national papers; instead, they will invite coverage from personally selected media outlets and will use their own social-media accounts, especially Instagram, to communicate directly with the public. Having railed against the media’s commodification of his wife, Prince Harry now seems prepared to take its commodification into his own hands: it was reported in January 2020 that he and the Duchess have lately submitted a trademark application for hundreds of items, from clothing to printed items, that may be issued with the couple’s personal brand, Sussex Royal.

This step is unfortunate and unedifying. To my mind, Sussex is a title, not a brand name. It is no more Harry and Meghan’s to exploit than Buckingham Palace is the Queen’s to sell off. Even if they distance themselves from the monarchy by being financially independent (as well as disowning their titles) by pursuing other commercial opportunities it only takes one scandal - e.g. a goods with their brand made from sweat shop labour or some other unforeseen PR disaster - to reflect badly on the Queen and the British monarchy solely because of Harry’s proximity to the throne. Harry may not be a Prince but he is a Windsor.

We are back to Bagehot again. For it was he who argued that the constitution was divided into two branches. The monarchy represents the “dignified” branch. Its job is to symbolise the state through pomp and ceremony. The government -Parliament, the cabinet and the civil service - represents the “efficient” branch. Its job is to run the country by passing laws and providing public services. The dignified branch governs through poetry, and the efficient branch through prose. The monarchy certainly doesn’t govern through commercial exploitation of its brand as an end in itself.

Today, the dignified branch is trying to adapt to an age of populism and until recently it’s been doing a much better job than the efficient branch. But the monarchy must never lower itself to the lowest common denominator to satisfy the base instincts of populism. As Bagehot aptly said, “An element of exaggeration clings to the popular judgment: great vices are made greater, great virtues greater also; interesting incidents are made more interesting, softer legends more soft.”

A family spat of no public importance is obsessing the nation and the world. Everyone should sit down and have a nice relaxing cup of tea.

[chsamuseum]

Learning Cantonese: A Family Adventure

“If flamingos turn pink when they eat so much shrimp, why don't cows turn green when they eat so much grass?”

As parents, we’ve encountered a lot of thought-provoking - and often fun - questions. Some have been easier to answer than others. Some are asked by our kids, others are ones we’ve asked ourselves.  

One question I wrestled with was: “Should we try to teach our kids Cantonese - and if so, how?” Trying to decide whether to teach our kids Cantonese was not easy. I spent hours researching, often searching online late at night, thinking through each of our language decisions and options. Then, after finally deciding to teach our kids Cantonese, I spent hours figuring out how to actually do that.

Amazingly, today, our entire household speaks Cantonese! Along the way, we created bilingual Cantonese picture books to support our own learning, which grew into our own indie publisher Green Cows Books, named for the fun questions that emerge out of bilingual learning - and out of parenting in general.  Most importantly, we continue to have fun. I'm sharing our story, with all my doubts and second-guessing, in case it helps another parent. 

The Green Cows Books logo (Courtesy of Karen Yee). 

How I got my entire family into speaking Cantonese

So...how did this turn into a family adventure? How did we go from one native (but limited) Cantonese speaker to the entire household speaking Cantonese?  Why do I spend so much time making Cantonese-English picture books?

First, before my son was born, I made the reluctant - but relatively quick - decision that we were NOT going to teach him Cantonese. I was the only Cantonese speaker in our house, and even then, I had grown up in California and mainly learned "around the house" language. While I had attended weekend Chinese school, my reading and writing were limited. Simply put, I was intimidated. Other voices seemed to validate my fears: Parenting forums debated the wisdom of trying to teach kids multiple languages. Well-meaning relatives suggested Cantonese was a “dying language” and Mandarin might be more useful. And of course, there just weren't Cantonese resources available. So we decided to focus our efforts on Mandarin, a language neither I nor my husband speak.  

Then my son was born, and things changed. While my Cantonese was limited, speaking English to my own kid just didn’t feel like “home.” I decided that however basic my Cantonese was, I would try to pass it on. If I failed, nothing changed. But, if I succeeded, then my son would speak a "dying language” spoken by 74 million other people around the world.   

So I began speaking Cantonese to our son - and this is where everything jumbles together time-wise. It was difficult at first - I felt awkward, and there were words I didn’t know (I had to learn them first!). We introduced Cantonese and Mandarin songs early on, but waited until our son turned 2.5 before introducing Cantonese cartoons (all on YouTube!). It was also tough for my husband for a while - once our son started speaking Cantonese, my husband could not understand what we were saying. But with a little one, we said the same phrases many times a day - "let's go!", "time to eat,” "drink your milk!", etc. Somewhere along the way, my husband learned basic Cantonese.  

Meanwhile, I searched non-stop for Cantonese books. I found a lot of books in Chinese and English; some books with Mandarin pinyin or zhuyin; and some books with Cantonese romanization. But I found nothing focused on spoken Cantonese.

So I began making my own Cantonese learning materials. I’d noticed that our board books had images of apples, ice cream and grapes - but nothing with Chinese food. So I printed out pictures of egg tarts, sesame balls, shrimp dumplings, almond tofu and tong yuen to learn alongside words like "apple" and "banana". No disadvantage at the dim sum table for our son! I also included materials to support my husband - primarily key phrases such as “What do you want to eat?” and “I want to eat...” We’d quickly realized that just a few basic phrases go a long way towards communicating with toddlers! 

A portrait of Karen Yee, founder of Green Cows Books (Courtesy of Karen Yee).

Our materials worked amazingly well. When we finally took our 2-year-old to dim sum, he recognized a lot of the items. He even tried to order for himself: “daan taat!” (egg custard tart). (Though the waitresses paid very little attention to our toddler.) Eventually, I turned these materials into our first book, “My First Everyday Words in Cantonese & English.”  

Today, our older one is trilingual. He learned Mandarin at daycare, Cantonese at home, and English. He was talking nonstop by 18 months. Our relatives generally also agree he has a better Cantonese accent than I do, even though he learned his Cantonese from me. I think he must have applied his Mandarin to Cantonese! His Mandarin is apparently excellent, and he was even chosen to represent his school at a reading contest.  

Our 2-year-old is fluent for his age - he and his older brother speak Cantonese, but sometimes switch to Mandarin. While I’ve heard that learning multiple languages simultaneously can cause speech delays, neither of my kids experienced this. I think this might just be personality-driven! My husband now speaks Cantonese. And my mother-in-law also has picked up Cantonese. Being able to speak Cantonese (or even just understand the basics) has made for easier conversations with extended family.

A portrait of Yee’s family, all of whom contribute to Green Cows Books’ language offerings as writers and translators (Courtesy of Karen Yee).

So, where are we now in this learning adventure?

Our books are family activities. Topics are chosen by our kids, and each book is fully kid-approved. For example, every find-and-point-item - such as in Goh Goh and Dai Dai's Big Day with Elephant - is thoroughly tested.   

Our Mandarin translations are actually done by our older son. He's been (informally) translating for us since he was able to talk, and translating books pushes him to stretch his Mandarin. He gets to choose kid-appropriate language - and his own pen name - to appear in the books. He’s also now started school - they teach English through what they call “Reader’s Workshop” and “Writer’s Workshop.” We now sometimes write together!

Honestly, I don't have much of a roadmap. Some days, I can't even think ahead to dinner and what we're going to eat. I want us to continue creating books that are useful for parents and for kids, for everyday communication - but even if they're meant to be educational, I want them to be fun and easy to read. As our kids have gotten older, we’ve also moved towards slightly more advanced story books. We're also experimenting all the time. For example, we introduced a few other languages, including in Korean and German (our friends wanted to do their own translations!). 

I hope that you will join us on our adventure!

I would love to hear from other parents who care about bilingual education. As a mom, I’d love to learn about what’s worked for you, and how you support your kids with their language learning. For those who are focused on Cantonese (or Mandarin), I'd love suggestions and feedback on future books. Please get in touch!

Written by Karen Yee, a member of the CHSA community. A Cantonese-American mother of two, Karen’s efforts to teach her sons Cantonese inspired her to found Green Cows Books, an independent publisher of bilingual children’s books in seven languages (and counting!). She lives with her family in San Francisco. 

[foreverfangirlalways]

The Astronomer and The Florist (Chapter 15)

Chapter 15 Title: Royality Wedding

Summery: Patton and Roman’s Wedding Day

Ships: Analogical & Royality

Warning: Nervousness, mild panic, tears

-let me know if I need to add more warnings-

( HAPPY BIRTHDAY to @thefingergunsgirl​! I hope you enjoy this fluffy Royality Wedding (can you spot the part where your fic inspired me?)  and a special thank you to all my friends who did wedding planning with me, especially @kawaiikat54​ and @five-falseh00ds-ph0nated​ for shopping with me )

*here is a collage of the wedding*

<the wonderful and fabulous @franticfandomfanatic​ drew Roman in his wedding dress, and I just had Link it! The picture is fabulous and exactly how I envisioned Roman looking in his dress! https://franticfandomfanatic.tumblr.com/post/621142753920860161/i-drew-something-from-foreverfangirlalways>

—-

*BEEP BEEP BEEP* Whack!

Patton sat up and stared at Virgil. “Did you just whack me and my alarm clock at the same time?”

Virgil grinned, and raised the pillow over his head again. “Yep! And I’m about to do it again if you don’t get up within the next 5 seconds. It’s your wedding day!”

Patton lunged and tackled Virgil in a hug, and Virgil fell to the ground. “Oh my gosh I am getting married today! Common Virgil! We have to go get dressed! And eat! And go to the Venue!”

Patton started dragging Virgil and he busted out laughing. “Well hopefully not in that order, and Patton, this is my house! Stop dragging me, I know where we are going!”

-_-_-_-

Meanwhile, Roman woke up a slight different way.

“Oof!”

Logan glared at an excited Roman.

“You have five seconds to get off me and tell me why you deigned to wake me by jumping on me, or Patton will find himself a widow very early.”

“Logan, Logan, Logan!” Roman said, bouncing off Logan and spinning around the room. “I’m getting married today! No time for sleep, we have to get ready! We have to be at the Venue in 4 hours! There’s so much to do! Let’s go!”

Roman started pulling Logan, and Logan just sighed, exasperated but with a fond look on his face.

“Just because this is your house doesn’t mean you get to drag me everywhere! Now, the makeup artist will be here in an hour, so let’s go ahead and eat breakfast while we can.

-_-_-_-

Once everyone was ready and fed, they all headed to the Venue. Roman and Logan stayed in the Bridal Suite, and Patton and Virgil were in the Groom’s Suite.

“Roman! If you get water on that dress I will kill you!”

“Logan, it’s water! And my dress! Now stop delaying and go get dressed!”

Logan crossed his arms, and Roman glared. “Do not test me, I will go Bridezilla on you. Now go. Get. Dressed.”

Logan scoffed, but went to go dressed. Roman let out a victory whoop, and Logan grinned at finally getting Roman to calm down.

-_-_-_-

“Patton, I don’t know about this. How did I let you talk me into this? This was a bad idea, I look-“

“Finish that sentence and I will physically fight you! I’m sure you look wonderful! Now let me see!”

Virgil walked out from behind the changing screen, and Patton squealed.

“You look awesome! I love it! Ooo! Spin spin spin!”

Virgil smiled at Patton’s begging and did a little twirl.

“Ah! I love it! This was a great idea! You look adorable in your blue skirt, and the red vest was a good choice!”

Virgil looked at his vest and smiled. “Yeah, Logan suggest that wear matching but opposite outfits. He picked out the vests. Roman got the skirts.”

Patton laughed, grabbed Virgil’s hand. “Holy shit, I’m getting married in 30 minutes!”

Virgil stared open mouthed. “You just cursed. And yes you are! You look amazing! Baby blue is definitely your color, and I love the bow tie!”

Patton giggled and took a bow. “I’m gonna be Roman’s Prince Charming!”

The door open and the new person smirked. “I’m glad you said that, because I can make a fabulous dramatic entrance now.”

The man with a bright yellow shirt and black suit walked over and and kneeled in front of Patton.

“The esteemed groom Roman asked that I present the most handsome prince in the world with his final gift to you before you are to get married.”

They all looked down at the blue crown that was sitting atop a decorative pillow.

Virgil asked “So Janus, how much did he pay you to say exactly those words?” at the same time Patton clasped his hands together and squealed.

“Aww! That’s so sweet! And cute! And I love it! Please tell him I love it and can’t wait to see him in the one I sent him!”

Virgil and Janus stared. “The one you...?”

“Yeah! While you were changing I sent Remus to Roman with a tiara I bought him. I thought it could be his ‘something new’!”

Janus laughed and Virgil shook his head in amusement. “Y’all are too perfect for eachother. Janus, since you are already here, I need your help. Common, time for finishing touches!”

-_-_-_-

“Alright Roman. You are dressed, hair styled, makeup done... I think you are ready. How do you feel?”

“I feel great Logan! A little nervous, but I look prefect!”

“Ohh, do you now?” Ask a man standing in the doorway. Logan narrowed his eyes and Roman rolled his.

“Yes, and my dress already has the perfect amount of red. So for the last time Remus, I am not putting fake blood all over myself for my wedding!”

Remus scoffed. “Who said anything about FAKE blood? And also, that’s not what that is about. Don’t worry Logan, I’m not going to try anything again, so no need for a glare. I came to bring you this.”

Remus held a tiara up from behind his back. Roman gasped and Logan chuckled.

“Patton gave it to me, telling me to give it to you and say some love speech that sums up to be ‘I love you and you are gonna look hot in this’ more or less.”

Logan laughed. “While I am sure that is not what Patton said, I know that if anyone had any doubts that y’all are perfect for eachother, the fact that you both secretly got crowns for eachother is all the proof they would need.”

Roman beamed and Remus set the tiara upon his head. “It’s almost time for me to walk you down the aisle little bro, are you ready?”

“Yes,”Roman said while nodding. “I’m marring the love of my life with my best friend by my side and my brother giving me away. I can’t wait!”

10 minutes later Logan and Virgil walked to their spots, and Patton was standing next to the officiator.

The opening notes of ‘I See The Light’ from Tangled are heard, and everyone stands up. Roman walks down the aisle, arm in arm with Remus.

Patton is bouncing on the balls of his feet, using all of his willpower to not rush to Roman and profess his love right then.

Remus walked Roman all the way up to Patton and clasped their hands together.

“Listen Pattycakes, you make Roman cry even a single tear of sorrow, I will make sure you push up some lovely daisies.”

Remus than pat Patton on the head and walked over to sit by Janus. Patton looked unnerved but Roman just shook his head and smiled.

“Well then! I believe that is my cue to start the ceremony!”

Everyone chuckled at Emile’s words. “Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today to bare witness to the union of Roman Royal and Patton Hart. If anyone has a problem with this union, then I don’t know why you came to their wedding.”

Everyone chuckled again, and the grooms shook their heads lightheartedly.

“Now, I have been told that the grooms have written their own vows for eachother? Roman, you may go first.”

Roman smiled and squeezed Patton’s hand.

“Patton Morales Hart, ever since you sat beside me at the movie theater and cussed out Hans in ice cream flavors, I knew you were the one for me. You are sweet and gentle, but will also threaten people and chase people around with a weaponized tennis racket. You are my favorite sight to see, and the best thing to wake up too. You are my soulmate and help me be the best person I can be. I love you and can’t wait to spend the rest of my life with you.” Roman then put the ring on Patton’s finger and kissed his hand.

Roman started crying about midway through his vows, but he never let his voice waver and powered on. Patton had a few tears streaming down his face and smiled brightly.

“Patton, you may now try and top Roman’s vows. Good luck!”

Light laughter was heard all throughout the crowd, and then Patton opened his mouth.

“Roman Cretivies Royal, I would first like to say congratulations on your nuptials!”

Roman huffed a laugh and shook his head, smile never dimming.

“In all seriousness, I knew I wanted to marry you from the moment you offered to take me out for ice cream after watching Frozen and proceeded to tell me how I should be treated like a true prince, and to always tell the Han’s that I will ‘kick their rocky road.’ There is no one else I want to dance around the kitchen with, embarrass our friends with, or make bets over how fast said friends will get together with. By the way, you still owe me ten bucks.

But I will let you keep the money in exchange for your undying love and support, because you have always had mine. I am so excited to spend every day making you feel as special as you have made me feel. We have been great boyfriends, and now we get to be fabulous husbands.”

Patton places the ring on Romans hand and bows. “A gorgeous ring for a gorgeous guy.”

At this point there wasn’t a dry eye for a two mile radius. Not being able to hold back, Roman pulled Patton into a rib-cracking embrace.

“Of course you have my love and support, now let’s officially become husbands!”

Emile clapped his hands. “Alright! Roman, do you take Patton to be your lawfully wedded husband, to have and to hold, in sickness and in health, for as long as you both shall live?”

“I do!”

“And Patton,  do you take Roman to be your lawfully wedded husband, to have and to hold, in sickness and in health, for as long as you both shall live?”

“I do!”

“Perfect! By the power vested in me, you may now kiss the groom!”

Roman dipped Patton into a kiss, and then Patton spun Roman around.

“It is my honor to intrude to you, Roman and Patton Royalhart!”

Everyone cheered, and no one stopped smiling for the rest of the day.

Patton booped icing on Roman’s nose.

Logan and Virgil both gave embarrassing but adorable toasts.

Roman glided across the dance floor with Patton for the first dance, and then with Remus for the brother brother dance.

Patton friendly intimidated Logan when Virgil caught the bouquet.

Logan places a flower from the bouquet behind Virgil’s ear.

Virgil kissed Logan after a slow dance, and Patton and Roman then dragged them to go take pictures at the photo booth.

After the night was over, Roman and Patton were sent off to the airport in a limo, to head to their honeymoon destination.

Virgil and Logan went home, changed into pajamas, and fell asleep cuddling.

Taglist-

@dragonwithproblems​

@five-falseh00ds-ph0nated​

@thefingergunsgirl​

@kawaiikat54​

@sanders-sides-with-quinn​

@007ardra​

@yikesdodson​

@nerdycupcake559​

@softestvirgil​

@teacupfulofstarshine​

@impatentpending​

@star-crossed-shipper​

@ravenivy2079​

@rainbowemonightmare​

@ladyartemisia28​

@moose-boi​

@resident-trash-goblin​

@parx-boiiz​

@ninathepancake​

@kuroyurishion​

@funkyfreshfatherfigure​

@pattoncake-and-eyeshadow​ 

@drewwwbydoobydoo​

@sure-i-exist​

@sophiexteresa​

@glitched-cookie​

@wellhellothere09​

[jennystahl]

i don’t mind you coming here (and wasting all my time) —— ao3 / 2880 words —— vtmb, remy/mercurio

Remy can't stand another day in that filthy Santa Monica apartment—so she tries Mercurio's house.

"What the hell are you doing here?" Mercurio exclaimed, stopping short in the doorway. Sitting in the dim lamplight, on his couch, was a woman. He gave her a once over—it was that Malkavian from the night before who'd saved his ass.

Normally he might have reacted differently to finding a stranger sitting in his house in near-darkness, but she didn't look dangerous. Of course in his time he'd learned that any vampire could be dangerous; but this felt like it had to be important. And besides, she had kept his failure a secret, and gotten him that morphine… she was alright in his book for now, but that didn't mean much since he still didn't know how or why she was in his house at the moment.

She looked up at him almost nonchalantly, but the glint in her dead eyes looked fearful. She had a laptop sitting open on the couch next to her, and there was a backpack beside her feet. It was zipped up tight. What, she trying to have a sleepover?

"I'm sorry," she said quickly, slamming the laptop shut. "I couldn't go back to that apartment." Her eyes darted around wildly. "I was afraid."

Mercurio shut the door. "Yeah, it's fuckin' middle of the night in Los Angeles, there's crackheads everywhere. But what the hell you got to be afraid of?" He didn't mean to be rude, he just wasn't sure what she needed from him. He was just a ghoul with too many connections. It wasn't any of his business what the Prince had her doing.

Her eyes widened, almost like she was shocked that he didn't know. She shook her head as she replied, "Lots. These past two nights—the things I've seen! I just—no, never mind." Frantically, she grabbed the backpack from the floor and unzipped it, shoving the laptop inside. From what he could see, it was full of personal stuff. Jesus, was she plannin' on stickin' around? She jumped to her feet.

"Wait, hold on now, wait a second." Mercurio stepped in front of the door, stopping her from leaving. "So you're not used to this vampire business, huh, is that it?" He was annoyed by the breaking and entering, but he did feel sorry for her. He might as well hear her out and return the favor she'd done for him.

She hugged the bag tighter to her chest. Her eyes, one brown and one green, were round with worry. "No! No. A week ago the biggest problem in my life was studying for some test… but you know what I just saw? You want to know what I just did?" She didn't wait for him to guess. "I killed people—killed them again. They were vampires, and they were giving each other diseases, giving homeless people diseases… turning people into zombies… I met a flesh-eating vampire in the basement of a hospital. I feel sick! Everything can always get worse, and it really seems like it's always getting worse. I hate this place. The Prince keeps asking me to do things, and I keep hearing voices, and I'm—"

Mercurio reached a hand out to set it on her shoulder, interrupting her. She sure did talk a lot; and so fast he could hardly make out what she was even saying. "Whoa, take it easy. Runnin' yourself outta breath, if you had any. Why don't you go sit down again? When's the last time you ate something?"

She laughed nervously and quietly, following him back to the couch. "Eating! Drinking, more like..." she trailed off, absentmindedly running her tongue over her teeth. "But I did do that. Earlier. I'm fine. I'm just…" She sank back into a seated position, staring at the floor in silence.

Mercurio sat down beside her, not quite sure what to say or do. Hell, he felt sorry for the chick, but he was no vampire—he couldn't help her really. And if the big man was sending her out on all of that business, well, that was between the two of them. She was being awfully vulnerable, though, so now he felt obligated to help her out. It also helped that he was still riding the morphine high; not to mention the blood he'd gotten earlier that evening.

"Er, what'd you say your name was again?"

She looked back up, her eyes rimmed with red—bloody tears threatening to spill had she sulked any longer. "Remy." Her eyes glazed over suddenly and she stared at him, unblinking. He shivered, feeling like she was seeing right through him. "And you are the master of dreams, Mercury, the messenger…" Remy blinked and came back to the present, then noticed the look on his face. "God, why are you looking at me like that?"

Mercurio glanced away for a moment. "What, like what? You know you Malkavians just say shit sometimes. It's normal, isn't it?"

"Normal!" She scoffed. "None of this is normal. I don't even know what I said. What did I say?"

Mercurio frowned. "You just called me Mercury. I mean, it's Mercurio, but close enough. I've heard worse."

"Right… Mercurio," she repeated, though she was no longer looking at him. She seemed to be talking to herself when she said it. Sheesh. Malkavians. Then she turned back to him and said, as if she hadn't just been freaking out, "You know, that's interesting. Mercury was the Roman messenger god, and you said you were someone who gets things done. Finds things. That's a fascinating connection." She hated the voices she had been subjected to the past two nights, but perhaps there was something to be learned from them. They led her there, after all. "You have any interest in mythology?"

Mercurio had been staring at her with furrowed brows the entire time she was speaking. What the hell did that have to do with anything? "Er, no. That's just my name. That's, uh, real interesting though. You go to school for that or something?"

Her face seemed to light up; well, as much as it could for a corpse's face. "Yes, actually. I'm—" Then her mood changed again and her enthusiasm seemed to dissipate as she turned her gaze away from him. "I was a classics student. I guess it doesn't matter anymore."

Mercurio shifted in his position on the couch. "Well, it matters that you still like it, don't it? Hey, now you don't gotta pay your debt back at least," he tried to joke.

Her eyes no longer looked bloodshot. He figured it would be easy to distract her, if not just because she was a Malkavian but from what he'd seen of her personality so far. Hell, she seemed to be pretty good at distracting herself, considering the topics she had just jumped between.

She gave a half-hearted laugh, then suddenly turned to him, resting a hand on his arm. "I don't want to talk about myself. Too depressing. You tell me about yourself."

Well. A bold request from someone who was currently trespassing, but he still hadn't confronted her about that—so then he found himself obliging. "Me? Not much to tell. Nothing as interesting as that mythology stuff. From New York originally…" he stopped. He'd leave the majority out for now. "Got into some trouble. Came to California, met the Prince, now we're here."

"What kind of trouble?" Her hand was still on his arm. Neither seemed to notice.

Mercurio was almost taken aback by her forwardness, or rather felt that he should be taken aback. He thought about it; saying whatever's on your mind, not being afraid of your own thoughts… that was refreshing, compared to some of the bums he knew out there. He liked it. But he still wasn't going to tell her everything. "Eh, you know. Things I shouldn'ta done or said. All in the past now."

"Well, I'm a classics student. All I care about is the past." She grinned at him, her teeth showing.

He laughed—half at what she had said, and half at the fact that her new fangs weren't perfectly straight like you'd expect them to be.

"Well, I'm sure you got a good imagination. Maybe I'll tell you someday." Not that it was likely there would ever be a someday. The Camarilla seemed to have a way of stamping neonates into the dirt—hey, none of his business. Even if she was more likeable than some other licks he'd met.

She leaned back into the couch. Her backpack was still in her lap, but she seemed distracted from the things she had been fretting over before. "Fine, okay. You don't have to tell me all of your cool mafia stories tonight."

"Wh—how the hell did you know that?"

She shrugged casually. "You seem the type."

"Psychoanalyzed by a Malkavian, sheesh!" Mercurio was slightly unnerved; was it the hair, the accent, the clothes, or was it Malkavian voices whispering to her his entire life story?

"There it is again!"

"There's what again?"

Remy sighed. "People talking about Malkavians like—like that. What's so bad about them? About us, I guess."

Mercurio was a little surprised by how little information she'd been given. Shouldn't there be some sort of handbook or something? He made a mental note to ask the boss about that eventually. "You said you got the voices, don't you? That about sums it up, from what I can tell. Maybe you only get those little, er, moments sometimes, but some are a helluva lot worse. They call 'em lunatics for a reason. Uh, no offense."

"None taken… I guess that makes sense." She stared off into space behind him. She was thinking of her professor; no wonder he was so strange. Only working at night, never talking about his home life except eccentric stories that seemed unreal, being vaguely inappropriate towards female students... Who would've guessed that it was because of his vampiric bloodline? (That apparently she was now unwillingly a part of.)

Watching her zone out, Mercurio took the moment to finally ask. "By the way, how the hell did you get in my house?"

Remy broke out of her daze and looked at him, her eyes growing big with worry. "Oh! I'm sorry. I forgot… well, I didn't forget, I just thought you didn't mind. Of course you mind." She looked ready to run out the door again. "I just, um, picked the lock. Sorry."

Mercurio found himself laughing again despite himself. "What, did they teach you how to do that in classics?"

"I learned it in… whatever. You aren't mad?" She sounded skeptical, but her shoulders relaxed once more.

"I mean, I was confused, but…" he shrugged. But what? Nothing had changed, necessarily, he just suddenly didn't mind her presence. He made up his mind when he finished, "You can stay."

"What?" Remy had heard him perfectly well, but she didn't believe it. She had broken into his house with her meager belongings, hoping to get away from that filthy apartment, but she didn't have any plan beyond that. Though she hadn't thought that far ahead, she certainly didn't expect him to let her stay.

"I said you can stay. I've got a perfectly good couch with no one else sleeping on it. And you did save my ass, and get me that morphine, so I gotta repay you somehow."

She grinned widely. He smiled back—those crooked fangs again.

"God, thank you. That place the Prince gave me—it's disgusting! Well, I'm sure you saw it, you set up my email… thanks for that, too, by the way. 'Suckhead', though, really?"

"Gotta find some way to have fun around here." Looking at her, another question suddenly came to mind. He wasn't sure if he should ask, since the matter seemed settled, but he couldn't help himself. "By the way, why my place specifically? Why didn't you ask Lacroix, or the Voermans, or something?" Not that he felt inadequate, but he wasn't her kind. Surely she would rather be around one of them.

She would rather see a sunrise than talk to the Prince or those crazy twins from her clan again. "You—" Remy paused. She didn't know if she should tell him; would it ruin it? The voices were silent, for once.

"What?"

"You feel safe." It wasn't the ideal wording, but it was true.

Every time she'd met someone or seen something the past two nights, the voices had a lot to say about it. Usually it was incomprehensible, and so loud she was sure it had come from someone nearby. She found herself ripping her hands through her hair in frustration more than once. But a few times they had made sense, and the ramblings of the thinblood on the beach only confirmed it.

Something told her she could trust Mercurio, and that man from the warehouse—Beckett. The feelings the voices had given were different between the two of them, but she didn't have the time or the recognition to discern that. All she knew was that she could be safe there.

Mercurio didn't know what to say to that. He'd realized she was forward, sure, but what was this all about? He was a ghoul who knew about weapons and drugs. He wouldn't count himself among the protectors of the world, that's for sure. But suddenly he felt like he should; or that he could.

"Well, I'm glad you think so," is what he finally settled on saying. Maybe it was some sort of Malkavian intuition thing.

There was a moment of silence, the air tense as she clearly had something else to say. He just looked at her and finally she said quickly, "There is another thing, though."

"What? You got a twin too?"

Remy grimaced, realizing that he didn't know that the Voermans weren't really twins. She laughed it off, avoiding eye contact. She was afraid of what they—she—would do if Remy told anyone about their split personality.

"Um, no." But then she remembered her older brother and went quiet, suddenly realizing that she might not be able to see him ever again. She was ready to break down again when a voice in the front of her mind said something that she didn't quite pick up on. It calmed her. Getting a grip for once, she returned to the matter at hand. "You said you're someone who can get people things, right?"

"Do I like where this is going?" He was all for letting her stick around for the time being as a way to pay her back, but...

"All my stuff at my old college apartment. I need it." Even though she didn't have the bodily functions required to actually get her clothes dirty, Remy sure was tired of wearing the same outfit she was wearing when her professor murdered her.

Mercurio leaned back against the couch. The trespasser asking him to trespass; almost ironic. "Why can't you do it? You still got the key, don't you?"

"My roommate will be there all night, and I can't go while she's in class during the day. But I do have the key, and I can give it to you." Her eyes grew big again, though it was more of a pleading look this time. "Please?"

Mercurio stared at her. Hell, he'd done a lot worse than enter an apartment with its key to pick up some clothes. "Alright, alright, no need to look at me like that. Gimme the key and the address and I'll take a look tomorrow."

She grabbed his arm again; he noticed this time. Her hand was dead and freezing, but he didn't try to move it. She smiled. "You're a lifesaver."

"Try my best. Anyway, don't you got anything else to do tonight? Earlier I heard the Prince saying something about that ship out there, the, er, Elizabeth something or other."

Remy started. "The Elizabeth Dane! Sitting here talking to you and I forgot all about it. I have to go." She stood, tossing her backpack onto the couch without looking to see where it would land.

Then she stopped as if a new thought had sprung to her mind. She sat again, looking at him in earnest. "Thanks again, Mercurio." The first time she'd actually called him something other than Mercury directly. "I'll, um, see you later. Maybe. I don't know when you sleep. Do you sleep during the day, actually? I guess the sun won't kill you, but you've got to deal with… our kind all night. That must be pretty inconvenient—"

Mercurio flicked her shoulder. "Let's chat about my sleep schedule after you do whatever the big man's got you doing, how about?"

Remy stood again. "Right." She wished she could say that it was the Embrace into her clan that had made her thoughts jumble up like they kept doing, but… she'd always been like that. She headed for the door, and once she'd turned around Mercurio smiled.

A voice played at the back of Remy's mind as she left. It tripped over the others, trying to interrupt the utterings that had been replaying over and over the past two nights. She couldn't quite understand what it was trying to tell her.

[kieraswriting]

Patton Needs a Break Sometimes Too

More Than The Sum Of Our Parts

Previous  Next

Masterpost

“Listen, we are on a time limit. This must be done before the end of the week, no matter what else we may want to do. There is no place for emotions in this, Patton!” Logan said, turning back to his work. 

Virgil looked away from the hurt expression on Patton’s face. 

“Y-yeah, ok. I’ll be, in my room if you need me.” 

Virgil looked at Roman, who was engrossed in the book Patton had given him, and didn’t seem to have noticed the outburst. 

“Roman,” he whispered loudly, staring directly at the side of his face.  

A few seconds later Roman’s head popped up as he registered the intense stare. “What?” 

Virgil beckoned him over. “Logan is going to need my help, but Patton needs you. I also want you to do something for me.” He explained his plan to Roman, and then relayed the outburst. 

“Of course I’ll help. Come join us when you can.”

Then Roman left. Virgil waited a good while, until Thomas had reached a milestone in the work they were doing and decided to take a break. Unfortunately, this just gave him more time to think about and get more anxious about what he had to do. 

“Logan,” he said, surprised that his voice didn’t shake. 

“Yes?”

“Even for now… you shouldn’t have said that to Patton.” 

Logan sighed. “I wasn’t wrong.”

“It’s true that Thomas needs to do this work by the end of the week, and that he needs to focus on it or it won’t be done in time. But it’s not fair to say that he doesn’t need Patton.”

Logan clenched his jaw, but otherwise ignored Virgil. 

It was hours later when Logan said, “You’re right. I shouldn’t have said that.”

“Once Thomas goes to sleep, we could go talk to him.”

“That does seem to be the correct course of action.”

••^*^••

Roman knocked on Patton’s door. “Can I come in?”

There was a moment of hesitation before Patton opened the door, a smile on his face, but his eyes red. “Sure, what do you need, kiddo?”

Roman held out his arms, and after a second Patton collapsed into them. 

“I’m sorry, I’m just not feeling so hot right now.”

“It’s alright,” Roman murmured, rubbing Patton’s back and rocking softly. He waited until Patton seemed like he was about to pull away before continuing. “You know, your dark son had an idea.”

“Oh?” Patton said, his voice full of tears. 

“Mhmm. He thinks that you’ve been in dad mode a bit too long. That you need a bit of rest where we take care of you for a change.” 

Patton chuckled. “That’s sweet, but I’m really fine. I’ll be right as rain by morning.”

“Would it help if I said I really like his idea? That I really want to do it?”

Patton pulled away enough to look up at him. “Really?”

Roman gave Patton one of his signature hero smiles. “Yes.”

Patton gave him a watery smile back. “What was his idea?”

Roman led Patton to his room and into Virgil’s corner of the imagination. 

It was small, only about half the size of a soccer field, and all around the outside in a circle were large stones covered in soft moss. It was perpetually just beginning to be twilight. The sky was all reds and purples, with just enough light that you didn’t have to squint to see. The grass was thick and soft, and covered every inch of ground except for a perfectly round pool in the middle. The pool was also perfectly still, and reflected back the moon that was already beginning to show. 

“Virgil said that when you want to take it easy, and not have to think about difficult things, that you like to shapeshift into your animal. He said it can calm your worries.”

“That can be fun, yes, but I sometimes have a hard time turning back afterward.” 

“Well, whether you do or not, I’ll be here to help. We can either stay here, or if you want to run around I know of a large field we can go to. Whatever you want to do! I can even shift with you if you want.”

“You would?”

“Of course! There’s very few things that any of us wouldn’t do if it would help you, Padre.” 

Roman barely blinked before he was being tackled by a massive golden retriever. At first Patton was wiggling all over and trying to lick his face, but after a minute he just laid down on top of him. Roman lay still, scratching softly behind Patton’s ears, while the dim light made him sleepy. 

“It’ll be alright,” he promised. “We may be all wound up now, but things always calm down again, and we’ll all be there for each other like always.”

Patton’s head on Roman’s chest shifted, and he licked Roman’s chin. 

••^*^••

It was late, well after midnight before Logan and Virgil gave in to Remy’s insistence that ‘Thomas is mine now, go away.’ 

Logan went immediately to his room, despite his previous words. “At this time of night, Patton is surely asleep. I will be sure to speak with him in the morning.”

Virgil peeked into Patton’s room, and then Roman’s, but they weren’t there. He would check his area of the imagination. Hopefully they were there, and if not he’d call Roman, who would be waking up in a few hours anyway. He didn’t need to use the door anymore, and sunk into the imagination. 

Roman was asleep on the ground, snoring lightly, with Patton on top of him. Patton’s eyes shot open moments after Virgil appeared, and his tail wagged off to the side, where it wouldn’t wake up Roman. Virgil waved at Patton, and crouched by one of the rocks. He lifted the heavy curtain of moss, and pulled out several blankets from a storage place in the rock. 

Patton slid off Roman, and grabbed one corner of the blanket to help spread it over him. 

Virgil wrapped another blanket around his shoulders, and laid the last on top of Patton. If he didn’t like it, he could easily shake it off. Which he did. 

Virgil sat down and held out his arms. Patton rushed in, resting his head on Virgil’s shoulder as Virgil hugged him.

“Are you feeling any better?” Virgil whispered, making long, soft strokes down Patton’s back.

Patton wagged his tail. After a few minutes he nosed at Virgil’s chest. 

“What?”

Patton butted Virgil with his head to push him down, and laid on his chest like he had been on Roman. 

“Oh, ok, I’ll go to sleep. But you need sleep too, Popstar. This is supposed to be us taking care of you, and you’re still taking care of us.”

Patton gave a surprisingly convincing eye roll, but laid his head down and closed his eyes.

Virgil stroked down Patton’s neck and back. Having a weight on his chest and stomach was surprisingly relaxing, and soon he fell asleep.

••^*^••

It was hard to gauge time when the sun never moved, but Patton was decently certain that it was morning when he woke up. Roman was gone, probably working on dreams, and Virgil was sleeping soundly. 

He tried to carefully get up without waking Virgil. Virgil’s eyes fluttered, and he mumbled something unintelligible, but he didn’t get up. Patton pulled the blanket up over him. 

He trotted away a bit, and tried to shift back. He was pleasantly surprised to find that it was easy this time. Perhaps, if Logan wasn’t still mad at him, he’d be willing to help figure out what made the difference between an easy and a difficult shift. Maybe he’d ask in a few days. For now, he was going to make a fantastic breakfast! He wanted to pay back Roman and Virgil at least a little, and maybe it’d cheer up Logan too. 

He couldn’t yet sink out of Virgil’s part of the imagination accurately, so he found the door and walked into Roman’s bedroom. Roman wasn’t there, but he usually wasn’t at this time of morning. 

Patton detoured to his room to take a quick shower and change his clothes, then he went down to the kitchen. 

He had plenty of time to decide what he wanted to make. Virgil wouldn’t be awake for several hours, and Roman would be busy dream making for a while yet, unless Thomas needed to get up earlier. Logan would probably be awake soon, but he didn’t like to eat as soon as he got up, normally just getting a coffee and waiting for the family breakfast. 

The question was still what to make. Patton knew that he and Roman liked sweeter breakfasts, like pancakes, waffles, or french toast, but Virgil and Logan liked eggs, sausage, bacon, and things made of them, like quiche. 

Finally he had decided. He was going to scramble eggs, and make sausage, but also he would make toast and cinnamon rolls. 

First of all, he made a pot of coffee. All the other sides liked coffee, but he had found he really only liked it with loads of cream and sugar, and also that Roman made it that way the best. Somehow, even with being the best cook, he could only make alright cups of coffee, but Roman was brilliant. He could make everyone’s favorite coffee perfectly. 

Next was going to be cinnamon rolls. With so much time, he could make them from scratch. He was going to make these be his best cinnamon rolls yet! 

A sound drew his attention, and he looked up to see Logan coming down the stairs. Logan froze at the bottom of the stairs, his expression unreadable. When he didn’t move or say anything, Patton looked away, back to his recipe. He continued pulling out ingredients silently. The argument they had had yesterday ran through his head, and he bit his lip. 

Logan cleared his throat, and Patton looked up at him again. He was standing even more stiffly than normal, and his face was set into… an expression. Patton wasn’t sure what kind the expression was supposed to be. 

“I need to apologize to you, Patton.” Logan began. “I said things yesterday that I shouldn’t have, and I hurt you. I don’t want to hurt you, Patton. I’m sorry.”

Patton rushed forward, only hesitating slightly before hugging Logan. “I forgive you. And I’m sorry too, now really isn’t the time for arguing, and I’m really the one who started it.”

Logan hugged him back and let out a sigh of relief. “You brought up valid points. I can focus too specifically on issues, and you were trying to make me see the whole picture. I still think that we should be putting all of our energy into this project this week, but next week would be a good time for a ‘self care day’ as you put it.”

Patton pulled back to smile at him. “That sounds good.”

Logan looked around. “Can I… assist in preparing breakfast?”

“Sure! I’d love the help, kiddo!”

••^*^••

Roman came downstairs to see Patton giggling over the truly horrendous amount of jam Logan was putting on his toast. The table was covered with delicious smelling foods. 

“This looks amazing!” He said. 

“Roman! Good morning!” Patton said cheerfully, waving. 

“Would you wake Virgil?” Logan asked. “Breakfast is minutes away from being ready.”

Roman got Virgil, who was already awake, and brought him downstairs. They were both glad to have a family breakfast. Especially such a happy one. 

[kurowrites]

Snow - Chapter 10

Entire fic. AO3.

Uh... I would like to file a formal apology to everyone involved?

---

By the time Wei Ying arrives at Lan Zhan’s house, he’s a huge, anxious mess.

When Lan Zhan asked Wei Ying to join him and his brother for brunch on Saturday a few days ago, he agreed lightly, thinking that it would be fun. Well, he thought mostly about the delicious food Lan Zhan was certain to serve, and how interesting it would be to meet someone that has seen Lan Zhan grow up.

On Friday evening, he suddenly remembered that he is Lan Zhan’s sugar baby, and that Lan Zhan’s brother probably doesn’t know about that little detail. How is Lan Zhan even going to introduce him? He’s not going to want to tell his brother that… well. That. But then Lan Qiren seems to know about their relationship? He’s been going back and forth ever since, and has failed to arrive at any good conclusion.

Still, it’s far too late to cancel now. Lan Zhan wants him there, wants him to come and meet his brother, so it’s really not Wei Ying that needs to be worried about confessing the exact nature of their relationship to Lan Zhan’s family. And he’s charming, Wei Ying tells himself. He’s charming and he can simply pretend to be a good friend of Lan Zhan’s and there will be nothing strange about it at all. They will have a good time, and Wei Ying will go home, and it will be fine.

Steading himself, he knocks at the door of the old house, and almost immediately, Lan Zhan opens the door and smiles at Wei Ying.

The smile, more than anything, takes him aback. Lan Zhan never smiles at him like that.

Wei Ying has also never seen him wear steel blue.

He hesitates for what’s probably far too long, not sure what he’s supposed to say.

“Xiongzhang,” comes a disapproving voice behind Lan Zhan, and – that’s Lan Zhan’s voice.

Smiling Lan Zhan steps aside to make room for disapproving Lan Zhan, and yes, that’s the Lan Zhan that he knows.

“Lan Zhan!” Wei Ying exclaims happily.

“Wei Ying,” Lan Zhan replies, and Wei Ying basks a little in the warmth of Lan Zhan saying his name. He looks good today, too, wearing a light grey sweater with – yes, that’s a small white rabbit where usually the shirt pocket would sit.

Lan Zhan turns towards his copy, no doubt his elder brother, and frowns at him. “Do not play tricks on Wei Ying.”

Lan Zhan’s brother laughs and apologises. “Sorry, sorry. I was just curious. But Wei Ying realised immediately that I’m not you.”

Lan Zhan looks the tiniest bit mollified, and turns back to Wei Ying.

“Wei Ying, this is my older brother, Lan Huan.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Lan Huan,” Wei Ying says in his best attempt at good manners. Still, he can’t help but be curious. “You two do look remarkably alike. How many years are you apart?”

“Two,” Lan Huan answers easily. “It’s nice to meet you too, Wei Ying. I’ve heard a lot about you and have been looking forward to meeting you.”

Wei Ying laughs a little nervously. “You’ll have a terrible impression of me by now, then.”

If he knows about the fight between Lan Zhan and Lan Qiren, his impression must be worse than terrible, no doubt. He’s known Lan Zhan for what, three weeks? And has already caused strife in the family.

“Not at all,” Lan Zhan assures him as he smiles again. “Lan Zhan might not be much of a talker, but he says enough for me to understand the rest.”

Wei Ying tries not to blush. Was that a subtle hint that Lan Huan knows that Lan Zhan is Wei Ying’s sugar daddy? Somehow, the thought is extremely embarrassing. He doesn’t know about Lan Zhan, but Wei Ying would probably die if his sister found out he’s having kinky sex with a rich man for material favours.

He doesn’t have the same inhibition with Jiang Cheng though. Jiang Cheng can get traumatized for all he cares. He’d probably rub it under A-Cheng’s nose, if he got the chance.

“Lan Zhan is rather taciturn, no?” he says loudly, patting Lan Zhan’s arm. “He never says anything, but when I talk too much, he always goes–” he imitates Lan Zhan’s “You are being stupid” face that’s just slightly left of his “I am being stubborn and refuse to listen” face, “though I’m immune to it now. It was rather funny though when he pulled that face on a rude server in a restaurant two days ago. He was like–”

He breaks off suddenly, realising that he’s talking too much, and that Lan Huan might not appreciate being regaled with a story about a homophobic server that told them to take their gay asses out the door and leave. That comment had not gone down well with Lan Zhan. But Wei Ying isn’t sure about Lan Huan’s stance towards homosexuality. His uncle seems to be aware that Lan Zhan likes men, and Lan Zhan did say that Lan Huan is supportive, but…

“Ah, the server at the seafood restaurant?” Lan Huan asks, and there’s a look of something in his eyes. “That has been taken care of.”

Wei Ying looks at Lan Zhan, a little confused, but Lan Zhan doesn’t explain. He simply puts his hand on the small of Wei Ying’s back, pushes him through the door and inside the house, takes off his jacket and scarf, and then marches him to the dining table, Lan Huan following them.

The table is already laden with food, and Lan Zhan goes into the kitchen to pick up some bamboo baskets that have just finished steaming. It’s a veritable feast. Wei Ying has no idea how three people are supposed to eat all this food. They might need three days to finish it all.

“Please, have a seat,” Lan Huan tells him, and Wei Ying sits down opposite Lan Huan.

“Do you also cook, or is this all Lan Zhan’s doing?” he asks as he surveys the food.

Lan Zhan brings in several baskets of xiaolongbao, probably because Wei Ying went a little wild for them the last time they had Dim Sum, but the selection of foods on the table is eclectic this time. There are pancakes. And fresh strawberries. Everything smells and looks delicious, and Wei Ying has no idea where she should even start. He wants to stuff everything into his mouth at the same time.

“I do,” Lan Huan chuckles. “But I wouldn’t go as far as saying that I’m better or more enthusiastic than A-Zhan.”

“He’s a very good cook, isn’t he,” Wei Ying says proudly. “Honestly, I have no idea what I’ve been doing before I met him. I’m addicted to his cooking now. I will probably starve to death when he stops feeding me.”

“Wei Ying should also learn how to cook,” Lan Zhan says primly as he finishes arranging the bamboo baskets on the table and takes a seat next to Wei Ying.

Wei Ying laughs. “Lan Zhan, Lan Zhan. What words! You’ve eaten my congee. You know I shouldn’t be left anywhere near a spice rack at any cost.”

Lan Huan looks between the two of them and raises his eyebrows.

“Eat,” Lan Zhan prompts.

“Don’t try to change the topic, Lan Zhan,” Wei Ying laughs again. Still, he’s quick to secure the best xiaolongbao for himself. After a moment of hesitation, he decides to also put one of them on Lan Zhan’s plate. Lan Zhan deserves good things, after all. “You kept your face carefully neutral, but don’t think I didn’t see you sweating.”

“It was not so bad,” Lan Zhan insists, taking the dumpling Wei YIng has given him, eating it carefully so the broth won’t drip all over the place.

“So you’re saying you’d eat it again?”

“Hn,” Lan Zhan agrees.

Wei Ying looks at Lan Huan with a mischievous smile. “Your brother is very courageous. He’s not afraid of a brush with death.”

“It can’t be that bad,” Lan Huan assures him. It’s very nice of him, but he’s never eaten Wei Ying’s cooking and doesn’t know what he’s talking about.

“Well, I like it,” Wei Ying says. “But my brother refuses to even touch a bowl of food I’ve made. And even my sister, who’s an angel otherwise, gets that look in her eyes when she finds me in the kitchen. She’s also an excellent cook, her pork rib and lotus soup is divine.”

Lan Zhan’s xiaolongbao are a hot contender for one of the top three spots in the ranking of Wei Ying’s favourite foods, though. They’re orgasmic. He can barely keep himself from moaning as he eats three of them in quick succession.

“These are also divine,” he says with conviction. “I’m positive you’ve laced them with some kind of drug. I’m definitely addicted to them. I wouldn’t be sad if these were the only food I was allowed to eat until the end of my life.”

“Indeed,” Lan Huan agrees with a smile at Lan Zhan. “They are very good.”

“Hn,” Lan Zhan says, as if such an amazing achievement is somehow normal and not at all something to be proud of.

“Don’t dismiss my compliments like that, Lan Zhan!” Wei Ying exclaims, poking Lan Zhan in his cheek. Lan Zhan levels a flat look at him. “You should be a little proud of your skills!”

“Lan Zhan has always been very humble,” Lan Huan agrees. “Despite his many achievements.”

“I know!” Wei Ying enthusiastically agrees. “I don’t understand how he’s always so… Lan Zhan. If I were him, I’d be the biggest brat ever.”

“He wouldn’t be A-Zhan then, would be?” Lan Huan asks.

“No,” Wei Ying agrees, smiling at Lan Zhan. “No, he wouldn’t.”

Lan Zhan seems to be rather uncomfortable with the fact that all the attention of the table is currently focused on him, and ignores both of them in favour of elegantly picking out his food and eating it. But Wei Ying is happy. Lan Zhan’s brother evidently loves Lan Zhan very much, and Wei Ying couldn’t agree more. There isn’t a single unlovable quality about Lan Zhan. It’s good to see that he and Lan Huan are on the same page here.

They eat in silence for a short while, but before long, Lan Huan speaks up again.

“So, tell me a little bit about yourself, Wei Ying?” he asks. “You’re not from here, am I right?”

There it is, Wei Ying’s least favourite topic. Lan Zhan has never asked him about his past, which is really nice of him, but of course Lan Huan wants to know exactly what kind of critter his little brother is associating with.

“I grew up in Hubei Province,” he says succinctly. “Not too far away from Wuhan. Managed to get a nice full scholarship for my studies and came here.”

“You were not born in Hubei?” Lan Huan asks, and it’s exactly the topic Wei Ying wanted to avoid.

“No,” he says distantly. “I was born in Beijing, but lived in many different places… before my real parents died. I only moved to Hubei when the Jiang family adopted me.”

“So you’ve also lived in Suzhou before?” Lan Huan asks conversationally, but Wei Ying isn’t insensible of the probing gaze that Lan Huan has trained on him.

“Xiongzhang,” Lan Zhan says sharply.

“Forgive me,” Lan Huan replies mildly. “I was simply curious.”

Wei Ying is sure that Lan Huan means no actual harm by his questioning, but it also provokes him. What right does anyone have to dig in his past? He’s lived through it, it’s the past, he doesn’t want to dig out the skeletons in his closet. Everyone and their dog loves reminding him that he’s not worth shit because his parents had the impudence to die and leave behind an uppity little brat with a mouth too big for his body.

“I’ve lived in Suzhou before, yes,” he says coldly. “And, as I’m sure you can find out if you dig through my documentation, you will also find that my parents died in Suzhou, that I was brought to an orphanage in Suzhou, that I fled said orphanage after a few weeks and lived on the streets of Suzhou for a while. Until I was adopted, to be exact. Is that enough information now, or do you have any other questions?”

Lan Huan, to his credit, remains entirely calm in the face of Wei Ying’s anger and incivility.

“Just one,” he says. “How come that a family in Hubei ended up adopting you when you were living on the streets of Suzhou, 800 kilometres away?”

“I don’t know, and honestly, I don’t care,” Wei Ying hisses. “Jiang Fengmian was an old friend of my parents and had been looking for me, apparently. How he found me, I don’t know. But I was desperate enough at the time to have gone home with anyone.”

Lan Zhan suddenly pushes back his chair, almost toppling it over. He stands up and strides out of the room without uttering a single word.

“Lan Zhan?” Wei Ying calls after him, surprised at the suddenness of his actions.

“A-Zhan!” Lan Huan exclaims at the same time. And then, a little more sharply, “Wangji!”

Something in Wei Ying freezes, cold as ice.

“Wangji?” he asks, his voice faint.

Lan Huan looks at Wei Ying, his expression a little surprised. “Yes, Lan Wangji. His art name. We use them when we perform. Please excuse me.”

Lan Huan gets up from the table as well, and vanishes out of the room.

Wei Ying sits there for a moment, frozen. Alone. The delicious food in front of him forgotten.

Wangji.

Lan Wangji.

There is a strange, buzzing sound echoing in his ears. He tries to stand up, tries to follow Lan Zhan to wherever he’s gone, but his legs won’t carry him. His knees buckle under his weight. He grasps for the edge of the table, but his fingers slide over the glossy wood, unable to latch on.

His last thought is that he’s going to fall face first onto the floor, and that it’s going to hurt.

  Wangji.

  “Wangji! Wangji, wait for me! Hey! Wangji!”

[mysticalmusicwhispers]

APH China Musings

When I start thinking about China, and sometimes countries in general, I get this total disconnect between how the anime/manga portrays the country (especially China) and how a lot of headcanons have them as, especially reading headcanons and art about ancient days. 

Ok China-specific content below (headcanons at the very end): Very long post warning

Most of the canon shows him as a sort of weird old grandpa who doesn’t really have all his nuts and bolts in his brainpan and pretends to be cool or whatever (when he’s really not) while his kids all mock him. That APH China has a soft spot for cute things and can’t really understand the others ig, which again kinda makes him a laughingstock for his kids. But, the headcanons I’ve read show him as a really manipulative, sly Old Man who enters contracts/treaties/friendships to benefit him, not for the sake of being kind, and doesn’t really see everybody else on an even level with him which... clashes somewhat to a lot with the canon. HOWEVER, this cunning, darker (?) version of him is way more historically accurate... I like certain things from both versions (and I also like being historically accurate as much as possible) and the fact that headcanons vs canon is so contrasting makes it kinda hard to have one concrete China for my headcanons, it’s like he has split personalities or something lol.

Side note: I’ve never heard/known of anyone Chinese ever saying -aru in English, so... It might be just a voice tic of Chinese people when speaking Japanese, but I sort of get annoyed when it’s added in every other sentence he says in a fanfic. He doesn’t talk like that in the English dubbed anime either, and it seems that the English translations of the manga have also omitted the -aru (except for one strip I believe, correct me if I’m wrong). So please don’t add it in fanfics unless you want the characters to all be speaking Japanese with their own unique voice tics.

However, I do like some parts of the canon portrayal, SUCH AS: his doing tai chi every morning, the portrayal of his relationship with Japan before the “betrayal”, and apparently how he “isn't one to waste a second of time” (from the wiki). So in my head, I try to meld the canon and Sly Old Man together, because I like some aspects of China that may not be explained by either the country’s history, culture, or stereotypes, and honestly I feel like some parts of a country’s personality can just appear spontaneously; you don’t need to be able to explain every part of you from your past experience or the people and country that you make up and represent.

Without further ado, the Headcanons!

- MORNING PERSON, does the whole tai chi thing in the morning with the birds in his garden or something, finds it very relaxing, and then goes back inside for an actual breakfast (I have no idea what he’d eat because Chinese cuisine varies A LOT from region to region, ex. in the north/Beijing region there’s usually soy milk, “Chinese oil stick” which is basically like salty fried dough sticks, and “tofu brains” <-- literal translation, it’s a sort of soupy thing with very soft tofu (very good). In the south, there’s a lot of sweet meats and dim sum, almost like a mini lunch sort of thing, etc.) He’d also drink tea, and never adds sugar (I don’t think restaurants in China ever actually give you sugar packets with tea)

- I feel like he’d be a CAT PERSON nowadays dogs as pets have become more popular in China but before, cats were more common (I think) because of their usefulness as pest control and the fact that they can get their own food; dogs weren’t really kept except to be guard dogs. I feel he’d have gotten used to cats, and also he’d enjoy a quiet pet’s company more

- ANCIENT DAYS/RELATIONSHIPS: He’d probably be slightly manipulative, and ENTER relationships for a trade benefit/power/control/good stuff, but if the relationship goes well and the person is charming (Rome cough cough), he’d slowly warm up and become real friends after a while.

- I agree with the Sly Old Man treatment of COLONIES/TRIBUTE STATES, he’d probably just protect them for the benefits instead of actual Love (but isn’t that what all countries do these days). I do see him as very patronizing to his underlings, because of a) his age and him thinking that he’s seen it all with his dynasty changes and wars and stuff and b) Confucianism, which said to respect your elders and all that, so I think it’d make him slightly full of himself and patronizing (the wiki says this is also his current attitude and I can see that). But I see a situation similar to the relationship one playing out here; as he gets more and more contact with a tribute state he actually grows closer to them in the Normal Human Feeling way, so that would explain his feeling of betrayal when Japan left (literally back-stabbing him), as well as his feeling sad (not just because he lost a trade partner and revenue maker) when Korea was taken. For his tribute states, my headcanon for their relationship is pretty much summed up in this post (esp his relationship with Korea, but also Japan a bit): https://stirringwinds.tumblr.com/post/119403708770/tsk-look-at-you-all-battered-and-bruised-its (patronizing but still caring)

- VERY PRAGMATIC AND EXTREMELY BLUNT. I have no explanation, he just seems like this kind of person (and according to the wiki, he “isn't one to waste a second of time”). Doesn’t care at all if he offends you, intentionally or not (unless he’s trying to impress, of course).

- VERY TRADITIONAL. He probably knows at least a handful of traditional instruments, pipa, ma tou qin, gu zheng, erhu, xun, etc. And will roast people on the internet if they play them wrong (a while back at some really fancy gathering, there was a performer who was in front, mind you, playing a yu (wind instrument) upside down and totally wrong, and that caused a huge firestorm in Chinese social media. I’d like to think China would have been one of those people to be like “what are you doing you know you just made a fool of yourself right?” Incidentally, there’s also an idiom related to the yu that is literally about playing it wrong (literally it’s something like one bad apple can be covered up in a sea of good ones but one by one, people will see you’re bad))

- TRADITIONAL pt. 2: good at calligraphy and also very good at guessing dui lian (apparently called antithetical couplets) hung up during the Lunar New Year. Also adhering to tradition, he gathers up everybody for every single big Chinese/Asian festival to eat together. I know Japan doesn’t interact much with China and China still feels betrayed by him in the manga (the Japanese and Chinese relationship nowadays still isn’t the greatest/closest for multiple reasons) but I’m going to take liberties (and my heart needs fluff). Also, if China invites/drags everybody but Japan to his house, I feel like that’s awkward and one of his kids/siblings would get Japan to come anyway. There would be a lot of arguing at the dinner, about food, politics, memes (from HK), trends, or anything really, but it’s all in good fun, yeah?

- MODERN POLITICS: still a bit of Sly Old Man, and probably very stuck in his ways. Some countries he doesn’t really respect. For example, he doesn’t see America as a fully respectable adult, probably because a) he’s still older and b) I think China agrees with his government’s structure to a point? Like with the way he suffered during the collapse of the Qing Dynasty (Boxer Rebellion, WWI, etc.) I think he’d take any system (including communism) that worked and improved people’s lives. At heart, I think China wants to do what’s right for the people, and at the time, the Communist Party promised that people’s lives would get better under their leadership, and for some, it did. That convinced so many people to take their promise, and I think China would have supported it at the time. As well as, I believe that country’s perspectives of their government is /somewhat/ influenced or warped by their people’s perspective, and /most/ people in China are /okay/ satisfied with the central govt. (not extending this to regional govts, that’s kinda a different issue). So I see China (as a character) being mostly satisfied, and America’s criticism and complaints about him pretty much bounce off, because China doesn’t see his comments worthy of respecting, especially because his govt. is doing ok from his point of view. There are definitely things that need working on, but he won’t take US criticism.

- SLY OLD MAN pt. 2: Basically the same as the tribute state thing, he’ll help you out initially to get your benefits, but if you last long enough, he’ll gradually grow friendship feelings. I feel like this is what real China is trying to do with the “Belt and Road”, basically spreading influence to less developed countries, although it may not be working out. Sort of like manipulation, which also fits in with the Sly Old Man thing.

- I can see why Hima originally designed China as being a bit cold, because I feel if he doesn’t need you, he won’t really talk to you. Although as mentioned above, I also see him start to care for somebody once he takes the effort to get to know you, and will probably care for his close friends long after they’re actually needed.

- I agree with the canon that he can GET ANNOYED EASILY AND SNAPS A LOT, but I see this happening only with people he thinks aren’t interesting enough, are below him, or don’t get him (or are just incessantly annoying).

- Also a bit EGOTISTICAL, but doesn’t show most of the time. Unless you happen to mention a recent achievement, and then he’ll go “Haha! I did that ____ (pick a number from 1,000 to 4,000) years ago!” or something and probably roast you

- SENTIMENTAL OLD SOUL: often reminisces about the past when alone, or with someone he truly trusts (that used to be Japan, but...). Slips into “how did the world get like this?” sometimes to a lot. Feels lonely sometimes too, and can be found stargazing on his front stoop at night

- RELAXING: if he doesn’t have work, he’ll just relax at his house, probably take a long bath/shower and just do nothing, maybe play some sort of instrument for fun, go into his garden and paint/walk around and enjoy the flowers, or watch some new addictive show. If he feels like working, he’ll cook dinner for all his kids/siblings and invite them over (this will also be done if he thinks one is overworking)

Ok those are all the headcanons for now, but probably will be more to come. My love for this Old Man is infinite <3. If you want, reblog/submit/comment your own aph China headcanons! Do you think I did him justice?