#neck kisses are *chef's kiss*
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The most seductive thing you can do to me? Kiss my neck. I'll literally melt into a puddle before your very eyes.
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I tried to draw sheep Machete and goat Vasco (but I am not good at drawing goats, at all)
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#Macsheep and Goatsco#what do you mean I LOVE goat Vasco#the ears! the hejazi goat ears!#and his expression is just *chef's kiss* perfect#really captures that ungovernable goatlike glee#I like how he retained his smooth coat and sleek and curved shapes#and Machete looks very appropriate as a sheep as well#he would have even more reason to trim his neck wool as a sheep#come to think of it would he have to keep himself sheared at all times if he wanted his clothes to fit correctly?#and just keep the head fluff#I noticed that you paid attention to their snout shapes! sheep have kind of rabbitlike nose whereas goats have a smoother upper lip#with less prominent philtrum#I thought that was such a cool detail#something I often forget myself when I'm drawing these species#thank you!#gift art#arttsuka#Machete#Vasco#it's weird how much harder their expressions are to read solely because of the horizontal pupils#they're mammalian but lack that anthropomorphic familiarity I guess
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#I have already said that his chest will be the death of me#Xiao Shunyao is hot#He is stunning with this hairstyle and make up#Actually he is always stunning#He wears v-neck shirts because he knows how they affect us#But damn man! If you keep doing this I will be death before 2024!#The little dragon on his cheek is chef's kiss#With the hairstyle and the face mask in the top right photo he reminds me the character of a videogame like Mortal Kombat or Dead or Alive#I would always choose him to play#I can hear the off-screen voice of the game saying “Xiao Shunyao wins. Flawless Victory”#He is flawless by the way#i love him#xiao shunyao#chinese drama#cdrama#mysterious lotus casebook#lian hua lou#shui long yin#di feisheng
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anyone: is something bothering u? what's on ur mind?
my mind:
i'm making this fanart my entire personality
artist: @elisial
#seriously OBSESSED#i love them so much#the COLOUR PALETTE IS JUST#*chefs kiss*#THE EARRING SENT ME#IM IN LOVE WITH THE PIERCED!KIT HEADCANON#AND RHE HAND IN HAIR#AND ON NECK AHHH#AND THE VOYANCE RUNE#(THAT TY DREW STOP)#with the contrast of the golden/dark hair#...immaculate#i want the last king of faerie NOW#give me kit and ty content pls cassie#kit herondale#ty blackthorn#the wicked powers#twp#kit x ty#kitty
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|| THE TANG SUIT ||
#A classic. A staple. Nothing helped sell the void creature look more than pairing this suit with those black eyes.#and the fun way he accessorized it with the red light up neck thingy... just chef's kiss#I wonder if Wes still has this somewhere in storage. I fucking hope so. I hope it wasn't one of those things lost to damage or time.#Wes Borland#Limp Bizkit#nu metal#Black Light Burns#down the rabbit hole
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I'm glad you've come into my life. You've fulfilled it. I promise... that I'll never forget you. That you are the one I love. And I will always love you.
The Sign (2023) 1x11
#phaya's face in the second one *bites fist*#and tharn's hand on his neck thumb stroking his cheek *chef's kiss*#so good#the sign the series#phayatharn#phaya x tharn#episode 11#favorite scenes#blmpff
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Oh he is so hot
#carlos sainz jr#scuderia ferrari#f1#haiiir#his stare#his tan#the neck#broad shoulders!!#and big arms#oh my god this picture is so#chefs kiss#this was him in fp2 btw#so angry#vegas 2023
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*clutches fist* I’m... gonna learn... clip studio paint... if it kills me
#real talk tho guys the neck pain of working on an ipad for three years many hours a day is ROUGH#gonna get me a beefy new desktop to run graphics programs well#gonna be a PROFESSIONAL about this#I love the ipad dearly#procreate is my favorite program to use#its so simple and intuitive I just... chefs kiss#but csp is probably gonna open some doors for me#and working with my wacom tablet again is gonna save my friggin neck#SO IM GONNA DO MY BEST
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I want Mizu’s father to be a complicated character.
I’m a sucker for reformed fathers and while I don’t think it will happen, I want Mizu’s father to be VERY morally grey. Give me a man who doesn’t believe in fairness or goodness anymore. Give me a man who had been through so goddamn much he can’t even see the kindness for what it is. A man who sells souls and bargains with demons and kills people with equal amount of interest. A man who doesn’t believe himself to be a god or melomaniac but simply a practical man who knows what he is and what he is not.
A man who knows he’s not good, and doesn’t dare to think he is, a man who has been broken once and put himself back together out of sheer force of will.
Man who, at his heart, still remains humble street rat.
Man who is friends with horrible people because deep down he doesn’t believe he deserves better ones. A pact brother to Fowler, who he matches in strength and brutality but not exactly in tastes or debauchery.
Give me a man who once had a goal, he reached it or failed it and now has to keep going, because he made a lot of people dependable on him. A man who keeps his people fed and safe but doesn’t tolerate the littlest bit of resistance or disloyalty because he fell for that once before and he’s still hurt. (Sounds familiar?)
Give us man who maybe had a son or two already but secretly wants a child that he could protect and maybe save and who deep deep down dreams of having a daughter he could spoil rotten. His little princess.
And then he meets Mizu’s mother and he either falls in love or he doesn’t but he suddenly has a goal again and he would be damned if he loses it. And he does lose it, either by having his daughter stolen from him and killing everyone responsible for it, or by thinking both his daughter and his woman were murdered.
Let us see his breaking point, him losing himself in cruelty once again, because he had just what he wanted in the palm of his hand and he threw it all away for a business trip or a seemingly important deal back in London, which turns out to be his biggest mistake.
And then give us a man who sees his daughter again but she’s not his little princess anymore. She never was.
Give us a man who is furious at what this world shaped his daughter to be. Who sees himself in her and he’s seething because he very much wanted her to be the opposite. To be happy and spoiled and loved. And Mizu is not.
She is ruthless, she is vary and she rarely sees kindness for what it is, especially in a foreign land. And she doesn’t trust him, even as he offers help in killing men that Fowler made her hate with his meddling. Men she suspects are either her father or the devil he works with.
Give me man trying desperately to make connection. Even as he bends the rules for her and breaks his own promises and lets himself care again.
And if it all fails and if she discovers he’s her father, he still tries to find a way to keep her. To protect her, shield her. Even if it’s by blackmail, even if he holds her friend’s lives in the palm of his hand as he offers her all the power he has. Even as she hates him with that reckless abandon we all know her to possess.
Give us a man who made a clan out of outlaws and makes Mizu his heir and their princess, as she screams and kicks and tries to get out of this position.
#Mizu the mafia princess#also give her brothers to compete with#or any halfsibling#give us a father that tries to step up but Mizu keeps breaking the ladder#and he is still a monster but he’s tamed#by Mizu who very much doesn’t need all this emotional bullshit#also Fowler bringing Mizu to her father who is neither of the man he mentioned before cause he knows she would kill him otherwise#here’s my crazy fucked up niece#now off to your father you go#I mean this very distinguished gentleman who totally will help you kill you father(s)#you’re welcome brother dearest#now take her off my hands and her sword off my neck pretty please#bes mizu#blue eyed samurai#Mizu father#Mizu father theory#my ramblings#also Mizu being his carbon copy in regards of revenge and inability to make friends would be the chefs kiss
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Party Planning and Other Deadly Hazards I
5k words of Shang Qinghua bonding with Linguang-jun over being overworked and underappreciated
For the sake of this story, Mobei is roughly 15, Shang Qinghua and Linguang-jun are both 18. Shoutout to @mysteryteacup, whose analysis posts convinced me of the potential in "Linguang-jun is Very Young, Actually". Our Mobei-jun's birth name is Mobei Xuebao (Snow leopard), Shang Qinghua is Shang Cangshu (Hamster), Linguang-jun is Mobei Taifeng (Typhoon)
Also on AO3.
It all started with a small change. You see, Shang Qinghua's shizun made a reckless promise that whoever could push a medicine deal through with the Black Mire Sect - a minor sect skirting the edge of demonic practices by specializing in gu poisons - would take over as his new head disciple. The sect was situated right on the borderlands between the human realm and the northern demon kingdom and they were very reluctant to trade away any of their precious poisons, because they faced constant harassment from a lesser tribe of Snowtusk Boar demons just on the other side of the border. Clearly whoever could get them to agree to a deal would have to be a naturally gifted negotiator!
Usually Airplane ignores these kinds of risky assignments, but the temptation of skipping three years of backstabbing, social climbing and manual labor was too tempting. Besides, he knew how to solve this one. It was one of the wife plots in PIDW so Luo Binghe could marry the sect leader's beautiful daughter.
Step 1: Get rid of the boars. He could, of course, not do this on his own. No way. However, through the power of authorial knowledge, he could tip Mobei-jun off that the tribe stole one of the ancient artifacts of the Mobei clan after a chaotic battle and hid it away in their stronghold. His prince was a little skeptical, but Qinghua had not led him astray yet in the few months since he became his spy. The next time they met, Mobei-jun was generously splattered with pig demon blood and he was proudly holding a crystal necklace that could control all the ice sheets of the northern sea at once, apparently.
So that was that for the boars.
Step 2: Wait a little for the other local demon tribes to fight out who gets to settle in the newly vacated prime location. Shang Qinghua made a passing comment about how the Silkwing tribe could supply a 'generous benefactor' with the highest quality fabrics in the entire northern kingdom and would you look at that, this conflict got resolved much quicker than in PIDW.
Step 3: Introduce the sect leader and their new, much more agreeable, demon neighbors to each other. The Silkwing tribe happened to be a tribe of crane demons who, just like the Black Mire Sect, specialized in insect keeping. Their most prized specimens were the various demonic moths and spiders they cultivated for their silk, but they kept a wide variety of other critters as well. It was a match made in heaven! (Or rather in one of Master Airplane's caffeine fueled all-nighters, just so Binghe could meet a cute bisexual crane girl at the negotiations and turn the whole adventure into a two-brides-special wedding.)
Step 4: Profit! Trade agreement in hand Qinghua showed up at his shizun's house and received his much deserved promotion. The whole plan went off without a hitch, job well done, success and happiness all around! The next morning he moved into the head disciple's apartment and breathed a sigh of relief that he no longer had to live in fear of someone discovering his association with Mobei by barging into his bedroom without knocking.
If only that was the end of it.
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Shang Qinghua has barely settled into his new duties as head disciple when one morning Mobei-jun grabs him straight out of bed, before he could comprehend what's happening or put on some actual clothes, and drops him off somewhere in the Northern Palace.
"Baobao, what in the fresh hell did you bring me?!"
The outrage cry comes from a stressed looking demon youth who stares at Qinghua like someone handed him a dead rat instead of a report. He's obviously a Mobei relative, his black hair glossy with a blue-ish sheen and his demon mark a bright teal, but his hair is done up with feathers and beads in the style of the wind demon tribes.
"Qinghua. He's good at organizing." As if on second thought, Mobei-jun snarls at the other demon boy, showing all his teeth. "He's mine. If you hurt him, I'll kill you."
After that he wordlessly stomps away, leaving the equally confused human and demon behind.
Shang Qinghua wants nothing more than to ask a million questions right now - where is he? why did Mobei take him here?? who's the other guy??? - but now that he's more awake than asleep he's suddenly realizing that the room is extremely cold and he's only dressed in his sleeping robes. Are his toes turning blue?! His toes are probably turning blue.
"Here." A delicately carved box is shoved in his face, open and full of uniform black pills. "Aurora Pepper pills. I asked to borrow the domestic staff from Xiao Bao’s castle, but if you are the only help I get, I want you not to freeze to death."
"My lord, are they safe for humans?" They should be. It's one of the plot devices he made up so the Wives could visit the North and still wear their ridiculously skimpy outfits without dying, but who knows what an ice demon would have mixed into them. Shang Qinghua carefully picks just one and pops it in his mouth anyway.
"No idea, they were for my mother. You are a cultivator, are you not? You can survive a little poison."
If this demon is as young as he looks - as young as his outfit leads Qinghua to believe, which is somewhere between fourteen and twenty - then his core is not yet settled. Even if the ice demon parentage runs stronger in him - which is obvious, he's wearing the equivalent of summer robes for northern demonkin - he would have bouts when his core slants towards wind and he would find the cold of the north unbearable for a few days. So this is likely his own stash of pills he offered one from, which is awfully nice when one of your kin just dumps their human on you.
"This lowly one thanks the young master for his generosity!"
"Hmph. At least you have manners, unlike your master." The youth retreats behind a desk piled so high with scrolls and bamboo slats he’s barely visible behind them. "Qinghua, was it? This lord is Linguang-jun."
"Answering, this one is Shang Qinghua, head disciple of An Ding peak." He thanks his survival instinct that he manages to fold into a bow before his surprise shows on his face. Based on the nephew abandonment incident he always pictured Mobei's uncle as someone much older.
"An Ding? Good. Maybe you will be of use, after all." Linguang-jun gestures for Shang Qinghua to join him at the desk. "On account of his sudden spirited showing in regards to the Silkwings and the recovered artifact, my royal brother has finally taken interest in his third-born son. To welcome him to court he ordered a feast to be held, the success of which will determine Mobei San's standing in court and reflect on this lord’s qualifications as an organizer."
"Forgive this lowly one for the question, but why is the Mobei-jun's own brother in charge of such affairs? It should be the duty of the royal seneschal." Or perhaps the queen consort. Since he never had to write a wife plot with any member of the main Mobei clan he might have handwaved a lot of the court related worldbuilding. Still, he's certain there were at least three or four people who had to be unavailable before such a task would land on the desk of the king's brother.
"This lord is the seneschal," Linguang-jun says in a dejected voice. A pained frown slips past his not-yet-perfected mask of stoicism and Shang Qinghua realizes that 1. Linguang-jun is very, very young to be filling this position and 2. he’s probably one stroke of misfortune away from an anxious meltdown. This Qinghua can relate, kid. "My royal brother's temper has decimated his household and, in his paranoia, he refuses to replace the staff he kills. Ever since this one's mother passed three years ago, he has been tasked to fulfill every duty pertaining to household management, including those of the late queen consort."
After looking over a crumpled scroll detailing all of Linguang-jun's current duties, Shang Qinghua has a sudden understanding why the demon resents his brother so much. It’s not just the duties of the royal seneschal, he is doing the work of at least five different people, all of them near full-time jobs in their own right!
"Sorry kid, you are clearly too young for this shit." He didn't mean to say it out loud, but luckily for him the demon doesn't react to the irreverent tone beyond an agitated twitch of his eyebrows. "All right, let’s see what we have to work with."
It proves to be very little. Shang Qinghua looks over the list of the available staff (too short), the amount of food and other supplies Linguang-jun managed to drum up since his brother saddled him with this task last evening (not nearly enough to feed the obnoxiously long guest list) and the time available to them…
“He wants you to put together this party in three days?!” For someone who had only been a vague shadow with malicious intent in the back of Shang Qinghua’s mind whenever he thought about the dangerous demons he might run into while serving his prince, Linguang-jun is rapidly gaining a lot of his sympathy. “Can you even get all these guests here in three days? Jiuzhong-jun lives two months away even if he takes the fastest horses!”
For a royal prince’s introduction to court it was important to get as many of the bigshots present as possible, so they could all take a good look at him and decide if they wanted to try to sic their own spawns on him for a courting chase or not. Jiuzhong-jun doesn’t have any children yet, but he has plenty of nieces he could try to marry out into other clans. He would never miss the chance to come and gawk at the introduction of a Mobei prince.
“Mhm. Xiao Bao has that part covered. While we make this feast happen somehow, he’s going to spend the next two days transporting in all the guests with his portals.” Linguang-jun digs into one of his many piles of scrolls and shoves one detailing the scheduled arrivals into Shang Qinghua’s face. “At least the issue of housing them until the party solves itself on its own. Granny Oxbones is the reigning queen of the guest wing and she wouldn’t accept my input on where to put all these guests even if I bothered to offer any.”
Airplane carefully files it away in the back of his mind that when Linguang-jun gets stressed enough he still refers to his nephew with familiar nicknames as something to consider later, and tries to focus on the task at hand. So the current Mobei-jun hasn’t eradicated all of the old servants - the kitchen and housekeeping staff escaped his paranoia, as well as most of the guards and the hunters - only the ones in the highest positions. That should solve at least part of their problems.
“Okay, so we only have to handle decorating the feasting hall, source a fitting outfit for my prince and get the food ready.”
“What about the serving staff? I don’t have enough people to cater a party this big.”
“That’s easy, have the guardsmen fill in. Let them do something more than standing around and gawking. If there are complaints about the task being below them, tell them that they can take from the leftovers, most of the guests will be too busy brawling or scheming to eat anyway.” Demons love to eat, same as everybody, and even a bite or two of the delicacies served at their lords’ table should be ample temptation to get the guardsmen on board. “But this does mean that we need to make sure that the food is great. Does Linguang-jun have the menu from either of the elder princes’ introduction feasts? No reason to break our brains coming up with something new, nobody will care as long as the food is good enough.” It’s still an awful amount of work for three days, but it’s not undoable if he can tap into the Mobei clan’s supply network and doesn’t have to account for whatever happens to the guests before and after the feast.
“I think I have the menu for Mobei Er’s feast somewhere.” Linguang-jun abandons the desk to rifle through one of the filing cabinets dominating the walls of his study. “We will need to substitute some of the dishes, because that feast was in winter.”
“Still better than having to write the whole menu from scratch.”
“En.”
“Does Linguang-jun have any suggestion where to get my prince a suitable outfit?” For the lack of anything better to do, Shang Qinghua starts organizing the scrolls left on the desk. Linguang-jun’s handwriting is very similar to Mobei San’s, but nothing at all like the blocky characters of the current Mobei-jun. They probably learned from the same ice fairy tutor, which further confirms how absurdly close they are in age.
“I have something arranged with the Silkwings,” Linguang-jun calls back over his shoulder, halfway disappearing into the cabinet as he digs among the stored scrolls. “But - Hah! Found it! - Qinghua has to be the one to convince Mobei San to go. He won’t go anywhere if this uncle tells him to.”
“Ah.”
“Don’t just gape at me,” Linguang-jun says, smacking him reasonably lightly over the shoulder with the scroll until he gets the hint and takes it. “Take this down to the kitchen, then tell your master that if he doesn’t want to go to his own feast wearing my old robes, then he should go visit the Silkwings, the sooner the better.”
Shang Qinghua pales at the idea of wandering the main Northern Fortress alone. “I- this servant worries that the kitchen staff will not heed his words…”
Linguang-jun seems to consider this for a moment, but he finally comes to the conclusion that his life is easier if his nephew’s pet cultivator doesn’t come to harm. He digs around in his desk until he produces a bone hairstick with a bead and a feather dangling from it. “If you wear this, the staff will know that you are working for this lord. Ask a maid for directions and be quick about it!”
True to Linguang-jun’s words, the staff is nothing if not cooperative once they realize that Shang Qinghua is working directly with him to stop the upcoming party from crashing and burning. The demon aunties and uncles running the kitchen fill him in, between tallying all the ingredients they are going to need for the feast and plying him with sweet treats, that the staff has been in a panic ever since the first orders about the feast came in. There is the grim threat of death hanging over their heads if the end result isn’t impressive enough and Mobei-jun feels humiliated by their showing. Apparently this is going to be the first bigger event Linguang-jun is organizing on his own, without the help of his late mother, and his staff is worried about sabotage.
“Does Linguang-jun have many enemies in court?” Shang Qinghua asks, lifting a tiny demon granny up so she can take stock of one of the too tall ingredient shelves.
“He has one and it’s more than enough! Mobei-jun never got over it that his late queen mother birthed one more son after the acceptable period for fratricide was over.” Airplane was proud of that world building detail. Obviously no demon lord wants to have any relative who might challenge his claim, but eradicating the entire extended family is a very fast way for a clan to die out. So, following a leader’s grab of power, there’s a socially acceptable five years when they can murder any relative they can catch, but once that’s over they are expected to limit themselves to those who challenge their position. “I tell you, daozhang, it’s not a coincidence the feast is happening when the hunters are away and we are low on supplies! And what is the king doing instead of procuring a beast for the fighting showcase of his son? Drinking and lazing around in his quarters, that’s what! Poor Xiao Bao, such a sweet snowflake, this old granny worries that his entry to court will be ruined!”
-----
Shang Qinghua is still turning that around in his head when he goes to find Mobei Xuebao later - It took almost no effort to get the grannies to reveal his prince’s birth name. Such a cute name for such a fierce demon! Airplane jokingly wrote it on the margin of his drafts, but he never expected the System to take it and run with it - carrying a big mug of fortifying ice slushie.
His prince looks beyond exhausted after opening portals all over the demon realm since morning and he accepts the refreshing drink without so much as a growl. He does, however, hiss angrily at Qinghua when he recognizes the hairstick stuck into his bun. “How dare he claim you?! You are mine !”
“Ah, my prince, please be calm! It’s only a token so the staff won’t eat me. I am to return it once we are done here.” Qinghua is actually not sure about that, but better not aggravate his prince when he’s in a possessive mood.
“You’d better.” He stops trying to rip it out of Qinghua’s hair, but he still stares at it angrily while Shang Qinghua rattles off the details of the arrangement made with the Silkwings. Mobei shows no enthusiasm for getting new court robes tailored, but at Qinghua’s insistent nagging he makes an affirmative sound that yes, he is going to go, now stop asking .Airplane is not perfectly sure what the kitchen aunties put in the slushie, but Mobei’s mood almost thaws by the time he eats the last of the sweet berries they added to it. A wonderful good mood that lasts for all of five minutes before Linguang-jun turns the corner and yells at both of them.
“What are you still doing here?! Don’t you have things to do other than standing around?” Linguang-jun is flushed a pale pink from exertion and possibly frustration. He’s dressed for a hunt, carrying a Japanese style longbow almost as tall as him and a quiver of elegant, black-feathered arrows. It’s fascinating to see how Airplane’s throwaway details got implemented into the world - he made a passing note that Mobei’s grandmother was an eastern wind demon, then he made one of Binghe’s wives a wind demoness based on a Japanese princess and bird motifs and poof! The world combined these two details into multicultural Linguang-jun. He has to bite his tongue before he could ask Linguang-jun if he had a katana somewhere.
Mobei is clearly not happy to see that his uncle is gearing up to leave.
“Good time for a hunt, uncle,” he sneers. Linguang-jun sneers right back.
“ I am going out to fetch our hunting expeditions back so we have meat to serve at the feast. Someone has to, unless Baobao would prefer to play pretend with snow and ice and berries!” They both flinch, which is interesting. Clearly that’s a reference to a formerly fond memory. When Linguang-jun continues he’s not meeting their eyes and looks just a little sheepish. “Go get your rags, nephew. My reputation rides on the success of this feast. I’m not going to sabotage it.”
It’s hard to tell what Mobei Xuebao is thinking, but his expression seems a lot less murderous than a minute ago. “Take Qinghua with you,” he says, ignoring completely the way his cultivator freezes up. “He has a sword. He can fly high and scout for you.”
What is this? It almost sounds like an olive branch! If only it wasn’t poor Airplane being handed over like a cheap token of reconciliation, it would be great .
Linguang-jun gives Shang Qinghua a hesitant look, but Mobei chose a good way to sell his pet cultivator: Linguang-jun might be part wind demon, but even he can’t fly very high. Give Qinghua one more of those pepper pills so he doesn’t freeze in the icy wasteland and he can track their hunters down in a snap!
Before he can mount an argument about the general fragility of humans and the dangers of the desert, he is grabbed by the arm and the next thing he knows, he’s being swept up by Linguang-jun’s black wind. Nothing can compete with Mobei’s portal powers in terms of speed, but this is not too shabby either, and unlike the shadow portals, being turned into wind doesn’t make him sick. Perhaps because he doesn’t currently have a stomach to feel sick.
While they dash through the desert, Linguang-jun quickly fills Qinghua in: they need to recall three hunting parties, all of them within a day’s travel by horse from the castle. “There are others out hunting, but they are too far to make it back for the feast. And after we are done, I’m going to leave you somewhere out of the way and catch a Diamond-Clawed Tundra Devil.”
“Ah. For the fight showcase?”
“En.”
“Isn’t it the king’s duty to procure whatever his son is to fight?” His question is met by minutes of sullen silence so he startles when Linguang-jun finally deigns to speak again.
“There’s a wolf-bear-hybrid prepared at the palace. Da-ge wanted to give it to one of his concubines as a pet, but the lady has much better taste than to take a mangy mutt like that.” Qingua can’t see Linguang-jun’s expression, but the derision is obvious in his voice. It’s unclear if it’s directed at the concubine or his brother. “It would be acceptable prey for a less skilled prince, but Xiao Bao deserves better.”
“Huh. You really adore your nephew, don’t you? I figured he was wrong about you.” If he lives to tell the tale, Shang Qinghua is going to blame his current immaterial state for the failure of his brain-mouth filter. Never startle the person carrying you at high speeds!
He’s not even surprised when he tumbles painfully onto the snow, Linguang-jun standing above him with a murderous expression, the bow raised as if he’s ready to beat the hapless cultivator with it. “Does he still go around telling everyone about- even his pet cultivator?!”
“No! No, my lord!” He suspects it’s only because Mobei San doesn’t consider Qinghua important enough to fill him in about his backstory, but it’s technically true. “Servants gossip! I heard it from the servants in Mobei San’s castle!”
Linguang-jun lowers the bow, but his face colors with either indignation or embarrassment. He’s more expressive than Mobei, but it’s still not easy to read him. “Good. Do not ever dare to gossip about this lord! Understood, you, you…” He looks at Shang Qinghua sitting in the snow like a plump, bruised peach, face almost disappearing into the soft pelt the kitchen aunties dressed him up in. “You hamster!”
Airplane can’t help himself: he laughs. Then, when the laughter finally feels like subsiding, he notices the baffled face Linguang-jun is making and laughs some more. “Forgive me, my lord. I am not laughing at you. Except. My name does happen to be Shang Cangshu.”
The absurdity of it all finally douses Linguang-jun’s rage and the demon huffs a laugh. “Of course it is. Should I get a bowl of sunflower seeds for you tomorrow, hamster-daozhang?”
“I prefer melon seeds! But worry not, my lord, I can bring my own.” It must be a good sign that Linguang-jun is teasing him. A little bit of harmless farce is always good in anxiety-inducing situations, and the demon appeared to be on the verge of exploding all day. “I do have to wonder, though… I heard that when that incident happened, Mobei San was around four? So you must have been a rather young child yourself.”
Linguang-jun gives a tense, awkward nod and a scene starts to unfold in Airplane’s mind. This is not something he had written, but it is something he could have, if he ever tried to put Mobei-jun in the limelight for a while. Emboldened, he continues: “Traveling at the speed of wind as you do must not leave a lot of room to change course if, say, a tear to the human realm suddenly opens up in front of you. It must have been a terrifying experience, for both of you. Easy to lose track of each other in an unfamiliar world, hostile territory or not.”
Linguang-jun turns his head away, clearly trying to school his expression into a blank mask, but he is too worn down and anxious to manage it. He looks disarmingly young like this; just a teen with too much work on his plate. “He refuses to so much as speak to me unless he has no other choice. What does it matter how it happened? I admitted to trying to kill him.”
Of course he did. For Mobei San to survive an assassination attempt - a smart one too, leaving him in the heart of a cultivator sect that has a longstanding feud with the Mobei clan - was a testament to his talent even at such a young age. If Linguang-jun admitted that it was an accident, it would have only painted him as incompetent, which was the fastest way to political suicide even before he could officially get into court. “Ah, but he lent you this servant, hasn’t he? I think my prince doesn’t hate you as much as he wants to.”
“Hah! That will not save my neck when my nephew becomes Mobei-jun and comes to eradicate the threats from the family.”
“No! He would not kill you, I’m certain of it.” As he wrote it, Mobei-jun at the time of his ascension was secure under Luo Binghe’s wing and didn’t bother to go after any of his relatives - unless they attacked first, that is. “Leave it to this Qinghua, I will smooth this misunderstanding over in no time!”
The look of doubt Linguang-jun gives him almost hurts. “Wait until after the feast before you try. I’m short enough on staff without you getting yourself killed.” The demon makes a sharp gesture with his hand and a burst of wind pushes Shang Qinghua to his feet. “Up you get, hamster-daozhang. We have work to do.”
It all falls in place like a well-oiled machine after that, even the hunt. Turns out that Diamond-Clawed Tundra Devils are really fascinated by flying cultivators for some reason. The beast stands on its hindlegs, reaching fruitlessly for the flying sword, and doesn’t even notice Linguang-jun sneaking up on it until he traps it in a qiankun box. They work well together, Shang Qinghua and Linguang-jun, and the demon stays cordial - almost friendly, even! - to his nephew’s pet cultivator in the following two days.
-----
“I’m so glad that it went well, my prince!” Qinghua sighs a few days after the feast. He’s trying to subtly rescue some of his paperwork from Mobei, who decided that he wants to have this conversation while sitting on his human’s desk. “I wish I could have been there to see, but my shizun would have noticed if I was missing any longer and, let’s be honest, the chances of someone mistaking me for a side-dish were much too high…”
Mobei hums something vaguely positive, then very indulgently lifts one of his hands so Qinghua can remove the papers from there. “Good work.”
“Thank you, my prince! But I really didn’t do much. Your uncle did most of the work.” By the end of the third day Linguang-jun was openly bemoaning that he wanted to go to bed and sleep for a century. Airplane can only hope he got some rest since.
Mobei Xuebao growls at him in warning, clearly not happy with the direction of the conversation, but Qinghua has dealt with so much shit in the last week that he’s too tired to be properly intimidated by empty threats. “No, really! I know he had a horse in this race, but he really wanted you to have a cool ‘welcome to demon court’ party. He caught the Tundra Devil for your fight and he certainly didn’t have to do that!”
“That was Taifeng-shushu?” There’s no better way to describe Mobei’s expression of surprise than ‘cute’. It’s a good reminder that despite his frosty disposition and already powerful physique, Mobei Xuebao is also still a teenager. (Airplane is not geeking out over learning Linguang-jun’s name, he is not . Mobei Taifeng was on his list of potential names when he brainstormed for Luo Binghe’s right hand man, before he even started writing - a character who eventually got split into Mobei-jun and the OG Shang Qinghua, because Tired™ second-in-commands who try to betray their employers so they could have one good day of rest please were more of a comedic relief trope and that didn’t fit the tone of the story.)
“Yes, my prince. This servant was there when Linguang-jun chose and captured the most impressive beast from the pack.” He was so picky about it too! He made Qinghua fly over the Tundra Devil pack five times before he identified the biggest one and by that time the beast noticed the flying cultivator. That’s how they found out about its fascination with the shiny spiritual sword.
Thinking about Linguang-jun reminds Qinghua of the hairstick he conveniently ‘forgot’ to return. He puts it in a plain box and pushes it to Mobei Xuebao. “My prince, I had no chance to return this to Linguang-jun, so you would do this servant a great favor if you passed it along.” Mobei makes a soft noise as he pockets the box, looking almost smug that Qinghua is, indeed, returning the token. His good mood makes the human a little reckless about how far he’s willing to push this matter. “My prince, I know you have no reason to trust this servant on matters of your family, but I have heard many rumors and hearsay while in the Northern Palace. I think there might be a misunderstanding between you and your uncle, so if you could talk to him openly when you return the hairstick-”
“Qinghua has not led me astray so far,” Mobei interrupts, his eyes narrowed. “This prince will talk to his uncle. But if Qinghua is mistaken…” He lets the sentence hang ominously in the air, but the sentiment is clear: if Shang Qinghua is wrong, then all of his credibility is ash.
“I understand, my prince.”
It's going to be fine. It has to be! Otherwise the System would have interfered, like it always does when he's about to alter the plot.
Right, System?
#svsss#linguang-jun#mobei-jun#shang qinghua#making up world building like master Airplane intended#tc writes#fun fact: I had to fight the autocorrect every step of the way bc it wanted to 'correct' hairstick into hair tick#not remotely the same thing#please don't#I already have a follow-up for this in the works btw#to the tune of#how do you fix a sick ice demon so your other ice demon doesn't freak out and break your neck? without your shixiongs finding out?#the answer is you don't#nothing gets past Mu-shixiong#so you just grin and bear it and sigh to the heavens when it turns into a wife plot#because of course it does#anyway please go check mysteryteacup out their writing and meta are chef kiss#thousand times better than anything I do honestly
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ok crisgwayne went hard this ep
#gwayne with a sword to criston's neck watching him turn into depressed fucking shakespeare#ser criston cole#criston cole#gwayne hightower#gwaynston#crisgwayne#chefs kiss might be the only thing i liked in the finale
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🎵🎶And the Haters Gonna Hate, hate, hate, hate, hate. But the Heroes Gonna Train, train, train, train, train. Baby I’m just trying to chill, for real.
—————
You could not find any reason to be bothered by school or work on this vacation however, your childhood friends could not seem to share in that sentiment with you . . . ———
you were busy lounging on deck, sipping a mimosa while the boys did laps around the boat. the constant splashing and competitive bickering completely manageable with your drink and book in hand. Mr. Bakugou also stood out on deck grilling up the mornings catch for lunch. His own little handheld radio out beside him as he watched the sizzling smoke and drippings of the fish. except either the radio was getting softer or the bickering and splashing was getting a lot-
“This is pretty fucking brillant, Deku. We can brawl out here no problem!” “Brawl?! Kacchan,”
boom. “ this is supposed to be routine sparing!” whoosh. “Hah? Fine. I’ll still beat you though! Land, air, or water!” Boom. Boom. Crack. Whooshing. Snap.
Masaru sighed, turning up the volume of the radio.
you hummed along to his exasperated sentiment. Focusing on trying not to let their fight distract you - you were just getting into the good part! Izuku and Katsuki fought each other like something straight out of a comic book. Katsuki’s glittering orange palms and Izuku’s glowing green tendrils as the two clashed in the sky. eventually plummeting back down into the ocean with a splash so violent that you and Mr. Bakugou nearly jumped out of your skin. Salty pellets of water misting down from the sky and creating that misty rainbow from the childhood garden hose. The two of you locked eyes before reoccupying yourself with your previous tasks. The slaps of wet feet approaching as they climbed back onto the deck of the ship. the drippings started splashing onto your page- gosh darn it! you were in the middle of the climax! You hastily tried waving them off with your freehand. “you better acknowledge them y/n. Stubborn as you kids all are, they’re just gonna keep crowding around you like that until you’re all drenched.” you groaned and shut your eyes. Uncle Masaru was right. “Fine. What do you two want?” “well we wanted to lift some weight.” Katsuki. you turned another page, “so? Go ahead, you won’t bother me one bit. As long as you do it over there,” you pointed, “so you don’t keep getting me wet.” “Y/N, but we need something to lift.” Izuku this time.
you groaned, slotting your finger between the pages as you turned to look at them. Wet hair brushed back to reveal their foreheads. A rare sight for Katsuki. A distinctly familiar look in both their eyes. Your eyes flashed between their faces, “aaaannd what does that have to do with me?” you huffed. A boyish grin spread across both of their faces. “Senior, you’re the perfect weight.” Katsuki chipped, Izuku nodding along enthusiastically. “I’m sorry, what?” Izuku beamed holding his hands together as he begged you with his puppy dog eyes, “Come on N/N, it’ll just be some push-ups-“
“- and dead lifts” Katsuki interjected. “-and you can even continue reading your book! We just need you to sit on our backs.” Katsuki added again, “actually, I need you to stay like a log. Don’t think y’can read on that one.” your mouth dropped as you stared them down. Okay, so this was real. You threw your hands up, “Of course, who brings weights onto a houseboat in the middle of the ocean when you have a perfectly good childhood friend to use.” “and- hey wait a minute don’t you have each other?” Kacchan groaned as Izuku answered, “well it doesn’t work that way because the other person does their abs and we flip off so we’re getting it done together, but not at the same time-“ Kacchan leaned down into your face, with a lopsided smirk, “Y/N if you don’t get up and put that book down I’m gonna pick you up right now and change gears to doing cardio because I’m gonna tickle you. Do y’er understand?” Izuku leapt to your defense, “Wait! You said we wouldn’t force her by tickling!” “ohhhh we always force her by tickling -“
That was enough incentive for you to leap out of your chair and attempt to make a head start and run away . . . you wriggled and wheezed in Katsukis arm as he held you up in the air with only one arm. Mercilessly holding up his other hand to your side, “wait, waaait. No, no, no!”
He chuckled, “what’d ya’ think you gonna do? Outrun two pro heroes? Tch- not so smart college girl. Sick her, Izuku.” Panic flared through your body as Izuku kneeled on the ground next to your kicking legs. They were gonna get two of your tickle spots at once, your tummy and the underside of your feet. Evil boys. “No. Please!” you wheezed wriggling against the single arm python around your torso. His fingers fluttering against every soft spot of your body, wiggling his nose into the crook of your neck as you shove against his hold. “I don’t know Y/N this works pretty well! Kacchan and I can swap out too.” Suddenly your ankle was caught and you gasped. An BIG mistake because the second you did that wet lips latched onto your neck blowing raspberries into your sensitive spot and more feather touches crawled their way from the bottom of your foot to behind your knee. Katsuki somehow found the oxygen to yell as his head came up between a sloppy and slobbery assault on your neck, “fucking brillant.”
#mysteriesmusing#bakugou katsuki#izuku midoriya#bnha fanfiction#mha#bnha#bnha fluff#reader insert#prohero dynamight#prohero deku#holiday houseboat au#squeeeeee#I’m so freaking proud about this one!!!!!!#Like I hate tickle fights but just this once I want that to happen to me if it’s them <3#Anybody else ticklish on the back of their knees? That one makes me buckle and fall to the floor giggling and wheezing#and the raspberries in the crook of you neck is like so much#I thought it was mega big brained of me to pick that for katsuki#but I felt like izu gently grabbing your ankle and grinning while down on one knee was just SO good!#And the wombo combo of these boys tickling is just *chefs kiss* personality wise for me
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The current vibe: Forcing myself not to wear my new collar to bed so it won't break, lol
#it literally broke right before I put it on the first time (I had to fix it) so I know it will#but also...#collars are so queer#collars are so stimmy#collars are so dog#literally *chef's kiss*#I hated chokers for so long cause they were too close to my skin but who knew I just needed a collar with a charm#and it's SO PRETTY Y'ALL MY COLLAR IS SO SO PRETTY#(seconds away from vibing into the sky with how much euphoria being a pretty dog gives)#it jingles around my neck and it has all my favorite colors and it has spikes on it that I can fiddle with too!!!#the second time an impulsive hot topic buy has ended up changing my life oh my god#I need to get one with less stuff on it post haste so I can wear it to bed#honestly I can't wait until I have one I can wear with every outfit too omg#my special stim necklace broke recently but this is just as great AND it's aesthetically pleasing and doesn't draw questions???#10/10 would recommend IMMEDIATELY#I'm such a queer autistic dog ✨️#fenn rambles
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Viktor becoming fissure jesus was not on my bingo card but it HITS
Go you freaky little gremlin (I'm glad you're not dead (yet))
#the composition of that final shot of him in 2.2#the light and colors#the opalescent shimmer (hah!) of the hex#chefs kiss chefs kiss chefs kiss#the animation and design in this show is so fucking fantastic#beam it right into my brain#arcane spoilers#arcane season 2 spoilers#arcane#i would be neck deep in j*yvik content#but alas#j*yce... my dude... my guy...#HOW CAN ONE ADULT MAN BE SO NAIVE#i like him as a character within the narrative but he also INFURIATES me
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the glow down is insane 😭
TW: JUMPSCARE!!!!!!!!!!!!!
“i’m gonna be hokage” maaaaan, you’re gonna end up looking homeless………….
#i hate boruto k.iba with a passion oh my fucking god#JUST HIS APPEARANCE THO#cos like he’s so chill and cute and nice personality wise#they just ruined him completely and FOR WHAT REASON#it is ILLEGAL what they did to my handsome boy ILLEGAL!!!!!!!#like the last k.iba was chef’s kiss and then BOOM — looking like his fav pastime is rummaging through the trash bins behind kfc#like a raccoon or sum shit fiskdjdjdj#so sorry but i get so heated about this cos like#THEY RUINED HIM#THE V NECK IS ALSO A CRIME OKKKKK#biscuit mail
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Look at my majestic child ✨
#etnar the barbarian#so far I've rarely seen dragonborn characters without horns - at least created by players#and for Etnar it's just a look that'll stick forever#back when I created him for Skyrim - I gave him no horns because my brain was like 'BUT WHAT IF HE WANTS TO PUT A HELMET ON'#and since then it's been an absolute look for him and I'll never give him horns#and that touch of orange beneath his eyes -CHEF KISS-#and the lighting is giving him some orange on his neck and that's even more the usual look I have for him and I'm loving this#god I love this big goof#one of my favorite OCs and he'll never stop inspiring me#I need to write a post about him one day about his backstory etc
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