#this art went through a number of variations

[tali-zorahs]

“up!”

#critical role #the mighty nein #caduceus clay #veth brenatto #jester lavorre #fjord #kingsley tealeaf #essek thelyss #caleb widogast #beauregard lionett #yasha nydoorin #jester #beauregard #yasha #my art #no ship tags bc all ships are just heavily implied #this art went through a number of variations #but it was spurred by the idea of the jester-fjord-veth interaction in the middle #the time this takes place is nebulous bc i didn't want to have to explain how all nine of them are together #anyway #i miss them so much y'all #1k

[themyscirah]

Guys do we think the Amazons have complete records of Sappho's songs. Do we think they could sing them. Guys this IS IMPORTANT GUYS----

#ahfkahesjeirhdhchh...... #themyscira take me blease.... #i need to know what their art looks like so bad. i mean music and poetry and painting #architecture we see #i need to know the different styles and evolutions their stuff went through #like yes its 1 generation (plus like diana) BUT its been 3000 years or whatever number they use. they must have focused on different themes #at different times right??? or does that type of style not exist as much and its more a variation of personal style #can you see an evolution of uniquely themysciran art develop porgressively over the years with their isolation or is this even more minimal #than we think because the population isnt growing etc. #guys. guys. themysciran art and culture. #blah #wonder woman #diana of themyscira

[skz317cb97]

Color Theory

Jeongin x Female reader

Word count: 7.2k

Synopsis: Your world is varying shades of grey until you meet your soulmate, Jeongin, who brightens up your life in more ways than one.

A/N: 18+ ONLY! This, I swear to God, went from I have no idea for this story to 7.2k words and I have NO idea how. I hope you enjoy though! If you do please reblog, like, comment, shoot me an ask. I love hearing from you all it makes my day! As always warnings and smut below the cut!

Warnings: 18+ONLY MDNI! Cursing/strong language, character death, unprotected piv sex (please use condoms), cum shot, cum eating (a teensy bit). I think that's everything but if I missed something let me know and I'll add it asap!

Your mom was teaching you your primary colors. You had learned your shapes and you were working on numbers and letters and now she was working on your colors, an important part of your mother’s world being an artist. Your mom didn’t get why you were having such a hard time getting them right when you had picked everything else up so easily. It was your dad that actually mentioned the possibility of you being color blind as he was passing through the living room where you and your mom were playing during a break from his writing.

She realized your dad might be right so she set up an optometrist appointment for you and had your eyes examined. When the doctor looked, he determined that you had monochromacy or in other words you were completely color blind. It was quite rare really, most people that were color blind had trouble seeing certain colors, but you saw none which was so rare it happened to one in thirty-thousand people worldwide. Being a girl made it even less likely as well since color blindness occurred more in men than women but you were the one in thirty thousand apparently. Your mom’s heart broke a little knowing you’d never get to know and love colors the way she did but she made sure that art was still a part of your life. 

You were thankful for that because art ended up being your outlet, your escape, your fantasy world to get lost inside. Any form you could create in you would, drawing, pottery, pastels, but you especially loved painting. You used an array of colors but only ever saw varying shades of gray so you used a lot of texture in your art as well. You became quite well known among the avid art collectors in your city for your unique style and the lack of your ability to see colors. Your paintings were variations of colors chosen by someone with no idea what color was, with the textures it was art that came off the canvas. Your name finally got passed around enough that one of the more selective galleries asked you to do an exhibition. You were working on some canvases for that when your mom walked into your studio. She set down a tupperware bowl and made her way over to you. She wiped at paint on your face shaking her head. 

“You wear as much as the canvas does sometimes.” You nodded knowingly. 

“I know sometimes I get lost in it and the next thing I know I have spackle caked in my hair.” If anyone understood it was your mom. She looked at what you were working on. 

“You’re using a lot of pinks and reds in this one.” You looked at it. 

“Have I? I stopped looking at the names on the tubes.” Your mother nodded, examining the amazing work you’d done only knowing black and white and the grays in between.  

“I think this one will be my favorite when it’s finished.” You smiled. She was so proud of you. Then she pointed at the food she brought, knowing if she didn’t, you wouldn’t stop and eat. She distracted you just long enough to get you to break away and feed yourself. About halfway through your food your mom got up, squeezed you and kissed the top of your head.  

“I’m going to get home sweetie. I have to make sure your dad eats too.” She shook her head at the likenesses you shared with your father.  

“Don’t stay up all night.” You nodded knowing damn well you probably would. You had paintings to get done. 

“Okay mom I won’t.” Your mother looked at you knowing it was complete bullshit but smiled and headed out. 

“I love you sweetie.” You waved as you headed back towards your canvas. 

“I love you too mom.” You put your headphones on and got lost in your canvas again. When your dad walked up behind you he scared the absolute shit out of you. You looked at the time and were surprised at how late it was, you pulled your headphones off. 

“Dad wha-” The look on his face told you something was horribly wrong. 

“It’s mom...” He said and you started to shake your head no as tears came to your eyes. 

“No.” He walked towards you trying to grab your hand and you backed away. 

“It started to rain, and the car slid...” You kept shaking your head back and forth. 

“She’s okay she’s just hurt. Right?” Tears streaked your dad’s face. 

“Right?!” Your dad shook his head no. 

“She... she didn’t make it sweetie.” You collapsed to your knees and your dad grabbed your shoulders making sure you didn’t hurt yourself falling. You looked up at the half eaten food on the table that she had brought you. If you weren’t so worried about the stupid exhibit, if you had just taken enough care to eat, if she didn’t think she had to bring you dinner, she’d still be alive. When you left your studio that day, you locked it and refused to step foot in it again.  

Your dad made all the arrangements and somehow you made it through your mother’s wake and funeral. You moved in with your dad after your mom died and took care of him. Made sure he ate, lifted his head from his computer from time to time so his eyes didn’t burn out of his head. You had wanted to get rid of your studio. Just sell it and let whoever bought it toss the paintings, but your dad wouldn’t let you. He told you to hold onto it, just because you didn’t feel like you could now, didn’t mean you never would. He hoped one day you’d go back to your painting. Two years went by and as fast as your name had been passed around it disappeared from people's lips just as quickly. You were glad. 

You were starting dinner and writing down a grocery list when the house phone rang. Your dad was elbow deep in his novel, he wouldn’t stop for a house fire, so you answered it. 

“Hello?” You heard a man clear his throat on the other end of the line. 

“Oh hi! Uh, My name is Yang Jeongin...”  

“We don’t want to buy any but thanks.” You hung up and started to head back over to the food on the stove. You just stirred the sauce when the phone rang again. You sighed and walked over to answer it again. More irritated this time, you were going to burn your dinner. 

“Hello?!” He cleared his throat again. 

“Hi sorry, I’m not selling anything I’m trying to find an artist by the name of y/n?” You froze, speechless. 

“Hello?” Click. You hung up again and walked over to the dinner. The phone rang again and you let it but it kept going and going. You stormed over. 

“What do you want!” He was surprised at your outburst. 

“I... I... uh are you Ms. Y/n?" His voice had gotten small and you started to feel bad for blowing up on him for no real reason. You sighed taking a deep breath. 

“Yea. I’m y/n.” He suddenly got very excited on the phone.  

“Oh! Okay um I'm so sorry to bother you but I am a HUGE fan of your art work and I was wondering if you’d be willing to do a commissioned piece for me?” You pinched the bridge of your nose trying to fight off the headache that was creeping up behind your eyes. You sighed. 

“I don’t paint anymore.” He hummed. 

“Oh...”  

“Yea so goodb-”  

“Why not?” You were starting to get angry again. You had listened to him and answered him, what more did he want?  

“That’s really none of your business. Goodbye.” You hung up and finished dinner. You and your dad sat at the table together as you ate. 

“Oh who called earlier.” You shook your head taking another bite. 

“No one.” Your dad hummed looking at you. 

“What?” He shrugged. 

“No one called three times in a row.” You sighed frustrated by your dad’s persistence sometimes. 

“Okay! It was some guy asking me to paint him something. I’m not going to.” Your dad nodded.  

“Some guy? Did he say who he was?” You nodded and continued to try and focus on your meal and not the conversation you didn’t want to be having. 

“Yang... Yang Jeon or something like that. It doesn’t matter, I don’t paint anymore.” Your dad dropped his fork. 

“Yang Jeongin?” You shook your head. 

“Yea that was it.” Your dad sat there speechless. 

“What dad?” He finally snapped out of it. 

“You’ve never heard of Yang Jeongin?” You shrugged. 

“No?” To be fair when you painted you didn’t keep up with anything on tv or the news. Even now that you didn’t paint you still never really turned on the tv. 

“His family is the Yang in the LeeYang corperation. You know that name.” Well yea everyone knew that name, even if you lived under a rock. There wasn’t a single household that didn’t have something made by the LeeYang corp. 

“Jeongin is the grandson of the head of the company and his dad is on their board of directors. He was just named the city's most eligible bachelor; his family is old old money.” You shrugged, picking up your plate and walking it to the sink. 

“Okay so what. I still don’t paint.” Your dad picked up his plate and took it over to the sink too. 

“You could.” You started to fill the sink with water and soap. Your dad stopped you and made you look at him. 

“It won’t start to heal until you do sweetie.” You stuck your hands down in the water and shook your head as you tried to will away the tears welling in your eyes. 

“No dad.” He sighed, kissed the side of your head and went back to his computer to get back to writing while you cleaned up dinner dishes. That night you laid in bed restless, hoping the clicking of your dad’s computer keys would put you to sleep like they had so many times as a child but you couldn’t. At around two you hollered. 

“Bed dad! Brains need sleep to write novels!” You heard him sigh heavily and get up. You weren’t sure when you had turned into the parent. He stopped at your door. 

“Goodnight sweetie.” You nodded. 

“Goodnight dad.” Thankfully, eventually, you did manage to fall asleep and get a few hours of rest. The next day while you were doing the grocery shopping your cell phone started going off. You grabbed it thinking it was probably your dad wanting some sugary snack. He needed to start eating better and if he asked you for cupcakes you were going to get him apples and bananas. It turned out it wasn’t your dad. It was an unknown number but local so you answered it. 

“Hello?” 

“Ms. Y/n? It’s Jeongin. PLEASE don’t hang up!” You sighed and pushed your cart down the aisle. Holding your phone with your shoulder as you continued to grab things. 

“It’s really not a good time Mr. Yang.”  

“I’m sorry I really don’t mean to be a pest. Please call me Jeongin.” You stopped and held onto the phone. 

“What can I do for you Mr. Yang?” He let out a nervous laugh. 

“Uh well I was hoping that maybe you might reconsider doing the commission? Money is no object...” You hummed. 

“I’m aware of who you are and what you have Mr. Yang. I don’t really care. I’m also certain that I’ve told you three times now that I no longer paint.” You hung up on him again and went back to grocery shopping. Jeongin was frustrated. He was usually one to accept a no when that was the answer but he loved your work and he didn’t know why but he needed to get you to paint one for him.

He’d bought so many of your canvas’ from other collectors,for a good deal of money since you disappeared and were no longer painting. No one knew why just that you left the scene two years before, overnight. It had been difficult to dig up contact info on you and after going through all that Jeongin was hopeful that if he asked and said the right number that you’d paint for him. Apparently you didn’t give a shit about numbers which Jeongin found endearing as much as he did frustrating. 

A couple days later you were reading a book in the living room when the house phone started to ring. You closed your book, got up and answered it.  

“Hello?” Nothing silence. 

“Hellooo?” You heard a breath. 

“Fuck off perve-” 

“Wait wait! It's... I’m not... It’s Jeongin.” You rolled your eyes and sighed irritated that this man was calling you again. 

“What do you want Mr. Ya-” 

“To apologize...” You stopped surprised to hear his answer. 

“For what?” He was surprised to not hear a dial tone. 

“For being pushy and not taking no for an answer the first time. If I offended you, I’m deeply sorry.” You felt a little bad. He hadn’t offended you he was just picking at a scab he had no idea about. 

“It’s fine Jeongin...” He let out a sigh of relief. 

“Okay, thank you for taking my call. Have a good day Ms. y/n, goodbye...” You stopped him just before he hung up. 

“WAIT!” He hummed acknowledging he was still there. You were already kicking yourself. You couldn’t believe you were about to say what you were going to say. Why were you going to say what you were about to? 

“I’ll do the painting.” 

“What?!” Jeongin couldn’t believe his ears. 

“I’ll do the painting. Email me your specifications and-” He interrupted you. 

“ANYTHING! Literally just do anything you want and tell me a price!” 

“Okay okay Jeongin fine.” He wanted to ask a question but he didn’t want to push his luck either. He took a chance. 

“Uh would I maybe be able to come by your studio sometime? Once you’ve started?” You hadn’t been to your studio in two years. Your dad stopped by to pick up mail every so often but you had no idea what kind of condition it was in. 

“Maybe, let me get it started. Typically I don’t have spectators, especially not the customer.” He understood that and was thankful you were even considering it. 

“Yes okay that’s fantastic! Thank you! Thank you so much!”  

“Okay Jeongin, I’ll be in touch soon.” You both said goodbye and when you turned to go back to your book your dad was standing there. 

“Did I just hear you say you were going to do the painting?” You opened your mouth to complain about his eavesdropping but he quickly cut you off. 

“You know what! Forget I said anything! I didn’t hear a thing!” He ran towards the kitchen for a drink and back to his computer before you could start in and you shook your head going back to your book. It was pointless trying to read anymore. All you could think of was a canvas and how you’d move the paint across it. You slammed your book closed, grabbed your car keys and headed towards the studio.  

When you got there you stood at the door for a long time. The last time you’d been in there was the day your mom died. When you finally willed yourself to go in it was like stepping into a time capsule. All your paintings were exactly where you’d left them and the one you had been working on was still propped against your easel. You walked up to it and looked at it like your mother had, then picked it up and moved it against one of the walls. You grabbed a fresh canvas, put it on the easel and stared at it, looking for the picture inside it. You stared and stared but you couldn’t see it anymore. Something your mom had planted in you was what made you see it before but she was dead and so was the plant. A whole week you kept going back staring at the blank canvas finding nothing in it. 

Week two you were standing in front of the blank canvas, your headphones on trying to find some kind of inspiration. You about jumped out of your skin when someone tapped you on the shoulder. 

“Jesus fucking Christ!” You turned and there was a man in a button up shirt and suit jacket. He had fox like eyes that were narrow but some how still seemed kind. You both stood there stunned for a moment. You pulled your headphones down. 

“Uh... can I help you?” You wanted to be mad that he’d intruded but he was so beautiful you couldn’t bring yourself to be. You were just curious who this man was standing in front of you staring at you. He shook his head as if he were getting the thoughts in order. 

“OH! Uh, yea! I’m Jeongin, we spoke on the phone?” Oh. No wonder he was one of the most eligible bachelors in the city. He was a work of art himself. You still had no idea how he found your studio or what he was doing there. 

“Oh Mr. Yang yes, um...” He smiled his eyes scrunching up. 

“Please Jeongin is fine.” You nodded. 

“Yes of course, Jeongin. How did you find me?”  

“I hope it’s okay. I called you a few times and then your house, your father finally answered, he told me I could find you here.” Of course he did you thought to yourself. 

“I don’t mean to be impatient I’m just excited to see any progress that you’ve made, no matter how little!” You turned and looked at the blank canvas behind you as he started looking around the room at your artwork. 

“Which one is mine?” You pointed at the blank canvas and he looked surprised. 

“Oh... I see. Um... well... what’s wrong?” He didn’t mean for the question to come out like it had but as soon as he asked it your face scrunched up angry. 

“What do you mean what’s wrong?! It doesn’t just create itself! Why don’t you try to make art out of colors you can’t even see and see how quickly you get it done!” He put up his hands trying to calm you. 

“I’m sorry I didn’t mean to offend you I just meant like... is it why you stopped painting?” You tossed down your headphones angry. 

“I’m pretty sure I said that was none of your business!” Jeongin was doing a terrible job at digging himself out of the hole he’d created. 

“You’re right I’m sorry it is, I didn’t mean to pry I just, if I can help...” You walked over to the door and opened it. 

“Right now you can help by leaving.” He bowed and walked towards the open door. He looked at you as he passed by. 

“I’m sorry I intruded. I won’t bother you again, I’ll wait for your call.” He rushed out and down the stairs towards the exit of the building. You slammed your door shut and walked back over to the canvas picking up your headphones and staring at it angrily. You glanced over at the painting you’d worked on the night of your mom’s accident and then did a double take. You saw the shades of red your mom had mentioned when she had looked at it. How? You rubbed your eyes expecting everything to go back to normal but when you opened them you saw shades of blue in other paintings lying around along with the red.

They were all so bright it almost hurt to look at them and then slowly you saw yellow start to seep into your vision. First a pale yellow then a yellow as bright and vibrant as the reds and blues you could see now too. It wasn’t just the paint though everywhere throughout your studio reds, blues, and yellows popped. You rummaged through your paint tubes grabbing the colors and started smattering them across the canvas adding spackle and sand, cotton and ripped paper. When you stepped back you were covered in the vibrant colors and you had Jeongin’s painting started.  

That night when you went home your dad was as happy as he could possibly be to see you walk in covered in paint. You didn’t mention the colors. What if you went to bed and woke up and they were gone? You decided if it didn’t go away you by the time you were done with the painting, you’d tell your dad. The next morning when you woke up you looked at your coveralls from the day before and there, smeared all over the front of it, was red, blue and yellow. You were ecstatic! You pulled on another pair of old bibs and ran to head to the studio. Your dad hollered on your way out the door. 

“Hey! Breakfast! Most important meal!” You waved as you grabbed your keys. 

“I’ll grab some on the way! See you for dinner dad!” He waved and smiled, grabbing his toast and coffee, heading back to his own work as the door slammed closed behind you. When you got to the studio you started staring at the canvas blankly again. When your cell phone rang it gave you an excuse to look at something else other than your half-finished painting. It was Jeongin. So much for not calling you. You felt kind of guilty for going off on him so badly the day before so you answered. 

“Hello?” He always cleared his throat before speaking to you, like he was struggling to form his words. 

“Hi y/n, it’s Jeongin... well yes... you know that. Uh... would you like to meet me for coffee tomorrow?” You were confused, did he have more questions? He probably wanted to fire you or... 

“Like... a date?” You asked and he started to stammer. This man was the most eligible bachelor?  

“Well... um... yes? If you want to! No pressure! I’ll still buy the painting either way!” You were a little flabbergasted. 

“Uhhh... I... yea... I guess so.” He let out a huge breath. 

“REALLY?!” You couldn’t help but laugh a little at his shock. 

“Yes Jeongin. I will meet you tomorrow for a coffee date.” He laughed and you could hear the smile in his voice. 

“Great okay! Uh... eleven? The shop around the corner from your studio?” 

“See you then.” You hung up and started staring at your canvas again frustrated. You made little to no progress the rest of the day and you went home discouraged after having such a burst of inspiration the day before. The next day you went to the studio early, trying and failing to make a little more progress. Before you left to head to the coffee shop you took a couple pictures of what you had done on your phone so you could show Jeongin. When you walked into the café Jeongin was already there waiting at a table. You walked over and he stood up smiling pulling a chair out for you. You bowed smiling. 

“Thank you.” He nodded, his cheeks a little pink. The two of you ordered coffee and broke the tension with a little small talk. The conversation naturally evolved into likes and dislikes and you asked a lot of questions about Jeongin trying to keep the topic of conversation off of you. Before you knew it an hour had gone by. 

“Oh, wow has it been that long?” Jeongin asked. 

“Yea, I should probably head back to the studio and try to get some more done.” Jeongin’s eyes lit up. 

“More?!” You had completely forgot to mention the painting. 

“Oh yea, well... after you left the other day I made some progress and got it started, here I’ve got some pic-” 

“Can I walk you to the studio and see?!” Jeongin’s eyes were scrunched up and his dimples were showing. You’d had a nice time; you didn’t see why not. 

“Okay, but only for a minute, I need to work more.” Jeongin stood up excited. He grabbed your coffee ticket and his and started for the register. 

“Oh you don’t-” He shook his head. 

“Oh no... there’s no way in hell you’re paying for your coffee.” You chewed at your lip and smiled, looking down nodding. He was usually kind of shy around you, soft spoken, so to hear him say something so assertive... well it’s shouldn’t have done the things to your body that it had. Jeongin paid and the two of you walked towards your studio. When you got there Jeongin walked up to the partially finished canvas and looked at it. Something about the way he looked at it from different angles and so closely reminded you of how your mom used to look at your paintings and your heart squeezed inside your chest. 

“It’s amazing the way you use colors like this while not being able to tell them apart. This is beautiful already. I don’t know why you would ever stop painting.” Your heart squeezed tighter in your chest and you looked over at the painting from the night of the crash. Jeongin kept looking at the textures and colors, the words that came out of his mouth next shocked not only you but him too. 

“Was it your mom’s accident that made you stop, don’t you think she’d want you to continue?” He’d seen articles about the accident when he looked you up. Your jaw dropped as tears instantly welled in your eyes. Jeongin stopped looking at the painting and looked at you as he realized immediately he’d overstepped. 

“What?” You heard him loud and clear you were just in disbelief. 

“I...” You had snapped here and there at him but this was an all-out explosion. 

“DON’T talk about my mother and DON’T assume to know me because you like my work Mr. Yang!” He shook his head. 

“It’s not that! I...” You cut him off. 

“Is the painting worth more to you knowing that my mom’s death was what made me quit!? That I couldn’t look at a paintbrush or canvas because all I saw was memories of my mother!? Do you need to know that to feel more connected to it!? My mother died because I was stubborn and she brought me food so I’d eat while I worked on my stupid paintings for a stupid exhibit that didn’t even matter! She crashed driving home after leaving here! I killed my mom! My selfish need to create at all costs killed my mom!” Jeongin shook his head as his eyes teared up.  

“y/n... no...” You looked at him your cheeks and neck damp with your tears. You started pushing at him screaming. 

“Get out! Get out! Just leave me the fuck alone! Leave me! ALONE!” You sank to the ground in front of your canvas just like you had the night your mother died. Tears were streaming down Jeongin’s face now too. He wanted to hold you. Tell you that you were wrong. That your mom dying was just an accident and it wasn’t your fault. 

“Get out...” You sobbed, your words a whisper. Jeongin didn’t say anything else he turned and walked towards the door. Just before he shut it he spoke, his voice low. 

“I’m sorry.” The door clicked closed and you laid on the floor crying until you fell asleep. You woke up to your cell phone ringing. You grabbed it and squinted looking at it. It was your dad. It was dark now, he was probably worried. You quickly answered. 

“Uh... hello?” Your dad could tell he’d woken you up. 

“Oh thank god! I was worried when you weren’t home for dinner.” You started apologizing for worrying your dad like that. 

“I’m so sorry dad, I fell asleep and I guess I slept longer than I...” You turned on the studio lights and when you looked around you saw greens, and purples, orange. You stopped talking. 

“y/n?” Your dad’s voice pulled you back to the conversation. 

“Uh slept longer than I meant to. I’m sorry dad I’ll sleep here tonight and be home first thing in the morning.” 

“Okay honey, text me when you leave and please be careful?” You hummed absent mindedly. 

“Hmm I will dad. Love you.” You hung up and immediately started going through your painting tubes again, you grabbed greens, purples, blues, reds, you mixed new colors and threw paint on the canvas like it would put itself where it needed to go. A lot was still black and white but now there were so many colors! When you finished the painting, you stood back taking it in. It was the most beautiful piece of art you’d ever made. It was vibrant, colors and textures rising off the canvas but it also had a feeling underneath, a sadness, the loss was still there even though you’d gained so much color. You started to cry again, at the pain, at the beauty. When you finally pulled yourself together you pulled out your phone and texted Jeongin. 

You: The painting is done. I’ll have it ready for pick up in two days. 

Jeongin: I... what? 

You: You still want it right? 

Jeongin: YES! I DO! 

You: Okay it’ll be ready Friday by five 

Jeongin: I’ll see you Friday five o'clock sharp 

You saw the chat bubbles appear and disappear over and over like he was writing and deleting something multiple times. 

Jeongin: y/n? 

You: Yes Jeongin, what... 

He tried to write sorry a thousand different ways but no matter what he typed out it wasn’t right. Sorry over text for what he’d done wasn’t right. 

Jeongin: Thank you 

You: You’re welcome  

Two days had come and gone and you could still see all the same colors. Inspiration was coming to you a bit more freely now that you’d completed Jeongin’s piece also. You still hadn’t told your dad that you were seeing colors, you still didn’t know what it meant or why it was happening so how were you supposed to explain it to him? You were working on something new when Jeongin knocked at your studio door. Right at five, just like he’d said. You opened the door and he stood there a moment just looking at you. He shook his head and snapped out of it. 

“Uh hi! I might be a little early.” You opened the door more letting him in. 

“No you’re fine, right on time. You walked over to the completed canvas leaned against the wall and Jeongin followed. When he looked at it his eyes welled up with tears instantly. 

“It’s beautiful.” You bowed. 

“Thank you.” You whispered. Jeongin turned facing you. 

“y/n... I...” He was sorry. He wanted to say he was sorry but his words refused to come out once your eyes bore into his, big and glassy. He took a step towards you closing the space between you, his hand cupped your cheek and before you knew what was happening his soft lips were pressed against yours. Your eyes closed tightly as you kissed him back. He pulled away and you stood there, your fingers pressed to your lips, your eyes closed. When you finally opened them everything was in full color. Red and purple and every color in between. A tear slipped down your cheek and you suddenly realized it was Jeongin. The colors were appearing because of him. He swiped your tear away.  

“Please... don’t cry...” You shook your head wiping your face. 

“No Jeongin you don’t understand... I don’t know how or what is going on but... I can see colors!” His face scrunched in confusion. 

“I thought you’re color blind.” You shook your head smiling ear to ear. 

“I am! I was! I don’t know! Every time I’ve been near you more colors have slowly appeared and just now when you kissed me... I can see it all! I can see color!” You threw your arms around his neck and kissed him again. Jeongin wrapped his arms around you, tilted his head and deepened the kiss, taking your breath away.  

“Will you go to dinner with me tonight?” Jeongin asked with his forehead resting against yours and you nodded. 

“Yes, yes...” You kissed him again and then looked down at your paint splattered overalls. 

“Uh... let me run home to get cleaned up and changed?” Jeongin shook his head smiling so big his eyes almost disappeared entirely. 

“Text me your address when you’re almost ready and I’ll pick you up.” You were grinning like a fool, you kissed him again three pecks and started backing up towards the door. 

“Lock up for me please!” He nodded and you dashed out the door to go get ready as quickly as possible. When you ran into the house you almost ran your dad over. 

“Woah woah there speed racer where’s the fire?” You were an idiot. Only just then did you think to tell your dad, everything happened so fast. 

“Dad!” He smiled happy to see you so excited about something. 

“I can see colors!” He stood up straight and looked at you crazy. 

“What?” He asked like he knew you were pulling his leg. 

“Dad I swear to god, every time I've seen Jeongin, after I would start seeing certain colors, then he kissed me today and it’s not black and white anymore dad I can actually see colors!” You thought your dad’s reaction would be excitement, hugging you, maybe crying. His face scrunched up. 

“He kissed you?” What a dad thing to do, miss the whole point and zero in on that part. 

“Yes dad he kissed me.” You rolled your eyes. If at all possible your dad started dadding even more. 

“Well I haven’t even met this boy and he’s kissing you?” You shook your head laughing. 

“Dad! I told you I can see colors and you’re worried about a boy kissing me?” He shrugged, pouting a little. 

“I’m happy but I just would like to know this young man’s intentions.” You hugged your dad. 

“Well you’ll get to meet him tonight, he’s picking me up for dinner in a bit.” You started running up the stairs towards your room. 

“I have to get ready!” Your door slammed shut behind you and your dad finally let the smile creep onto his face that he’d been holding back. It sounded to him like you’d found your soulmate. It was instant like that for him and your mom too. One touch and they knew. Your dad still missed her every single day, he always would.  

Surprisingly you were able to get dressed quickly and you cleaned up nice. A nice black little dress, your hair pulled up and actually paint and spackle free, a little bit of eyeliner and mascara. You noticed a pretty red lipstick that popped out at you and chose that for a final touch. When you walked down your dad was sitting in the living room with Jeongin who looked as nervous as the first time he’d talked to you. 

“Dad?” He smiled innocently. 

“Yes pumpkin?” You pinched his arm. 

“Stop scaring him.” Your dad feigned pain and laughed. He leaned down and kissed your cheek. 

“Have fun sweetie.” You smiled and motioned to Jeongin for you to leave. He stood up quickly and walked over by you, his hand resting at the small of your back instinctively. 

“It was very nice meeting you sir. I promise I’ll keep her safe.” Your dad could feel it when he’d met Jeongin too, whatever pull there was between you was strong. Your dad knew Jeongin meant it from the bottom of his heart when he said he’d keep you safe. 

“I know you will.” Your dad smiled and headed up to his study to put his nose to his screen, he had a novel to finish. Jeongin was an absolute gentleman the whole night, opening your car door, helping you in and out, helping with your chair. You had gotten cold on the small walk you took and Jeongin put his jacket over your shoulders. You burrowed in and it smelled like his cologne and something that was just him, you couldn’t place it but it made you feel warm all over and your body erupted in goosebumps. Jeongin had been holding your hand and noticed. 

“You’re cold, let’s get back to the car.” You nodded and he led you back up the walkway towards his car. He opened the door again and helped you in before closing it behind you. He ran around and got in shutting his door then looking and smiling at you. You wrapped your arms around Jeongin’s shoulders and kissed him deeply. Your lips parted, tongue teasing. He held your face as you made out in the car for a while. When you pulled away you gripped at the collar of his shirt, panting and biting your lips. 

“This is where I’d invite you to spend the night but I live with my dad.” You huffed out a breathless laugh and Jeongin’s heart raced faster, spend the night?! 

“Uh... I live alone, you could come back to mine...” You smiled and kissed him again. 

“I’d love to.” You sat down in your seat and buckled your belt. Jeongin’s smile was so big his dimples looked like they never ended. He started the car and headed towards his apartment. If you could call the penthouse of a building his grandpa owns an apartment. When you were with Jeongin you never thought about the fact that he was a Yang and came from money. He was just Jeongin to you, shy, sweet. The apartment reminded you quickly. 

“Holy shit! You live here alone?!” He walked towards you and pulled you close. 

“Not forever hopefully.” He said cocking an eyebrow at you and you laughed. You started to laugh but then Jeongin’s lips were on your skin moving down your neck and your laughs turned into breathy pants. He claimed your lips again and you started to unbutton his shirt before running your hands up his firm chest and pushing it off his shoulders to the ground. You started to kiss across his shoulder, gently grazing your teeth against his skin and he shuddered. You pulled away and turned, your back facing Jeongin now. 

“Will you unzip me?” He walked up behind you, his face buried in your neck as his hands worked your zipper down. Your dress fell off you and when you turned around you were completely naked and Jeongin’s brain checked out. 

“Fuck you’re a work of art!” You wrapped your arms around his strong shoulders and kissed him. 

“Take me to bed Jeongin, please.” His lips couldn’t be bothered to leave yours as he led you to his bedroom. You worked at his belt pulling it open and off before tossing it and starting on his button and fly. When his pants were loose, they fell and he stepped out of them as he continued leading you towards his big soft bed. When the back of your legs touched the bed you crawled back on to it. Jeongin confidently dropped his boxers and rightfully so. He was not... lacking. He crawled on top of you hooking his arm under your knee and pulling it up, spreading your legs open for him. Before he pushed into you he looked into your eyes. He looked like he was watching the film of your future in them. 

“I think you’re my soulmate.” When he said it is when it clicked. Of course. You nodded, your eyes tearing up. When he sank into you, you moaned closing your eyes, a tear slipping down. Jeongin let go of your leg and wrapped it around his waist as he pulled out and pushed into you deep again. He leaned over kissing the skin your tear had rolled down. You opened your eyes and were in awe at the sight of him above you. His dark hair, narrow eyes, his strong chiseled frame held up over you so he didn’t crush you under him. You pulled him closer wrapping your arms and legs around him, wanting him to crush you. 

“Faster please...” You whispered and Jeongin’s body moved faster on top of yours. You could feel the pressure building already. You gripped his hair and kissed him as your bodies moved together his cock constantly moving against that place inside you that made your toes numb. 

“God yes! Right there!” He fucked you harder and you could feel your climax making the hundred-yard dash towards the finish line. 

“I... I... I’m g-gonna cum! FUCK! Don't stop!” Jeongin’s lips overtook your moans as he rolled his hips into you. You didn’t know how he kept doing it but every time you were with Jeongin he showed you new colors. The colors exploding behind your eyes as you came were moving and alive. Jeongin didn’t slow down. No, he sat up as your hands still gripped and clung to his shoulders and fucked you faster with the intention of reaching his own climax and prolonging yours. 

“Yesyesyesyes oh it feels so good Jeongin! Mmmm...” a few beads of sweat dripped down the hard lines of his torso as he felt his orgasm approaching. 

“Oh go-fuck! I’m gonna cum jagiya!” You moaned and nodded unable to form words anymore. Jeongin pulled out and came on your tummy and pussy. He stroked his cock as he coated you in his cum. He trembled as he worked every drop out onto you. He sat back on his legs, his head towards the ceiling, his eyes closed as he caught his breath and came down. You laid there a million bumble bees buzzing inside you. You ran two fingers through his cum and sucked on them. He looked down at you sweaty and laughing from the euphoria. Once Jeongin was able to function again he ran and got a washcloth to clean you up with. When you were all clean he crawled back into bed and pulled you close, your head resting on his chest, listening to his slow steady heartbeat. 

Later, after some digging, you found out you were in fact soulmates. Jeongin never knew why he was so driven to collect your art but it had felt like each piece he got was a piece of you, he felt closer to you with each one. Then he finally searched for you to ask you to paint something and well the rest played out. Jeongin took all the artwork he purchased and opened a gallery for you. You continued painting and even finished painting what you’d been working on the night of your mom’s accident. It was put up in the gallery as a memorial to her. Your dad finished his novel, you found the love of your life and your love for painting again. Your life was no longer a theory of color, it was a spectrum, a prism. It was all the colors your mother had dreamed for you and more. 

Please do not repost or translate any of my works. My blog and stories are NSFW and 18+ ONLY! Minors, ageless, and blank blogs will be blocked!

@acciocriativity @caroline-ds-world @chansynie @ughbehavior @jquellen27 @jisuperboard @fixation-dump @lachinitaaaaa @rinrinndou @bangchans-angel @laylasbunbunny @owo-manii-uwu @armystay89 @b00dyguts @purplenimsicle @caticorn61 @lauraneuuh @channieandhisgoonsquad @minnysproutgriffinteddy @svintsandghosts @the-sweetest-rose @alice630 @3rachasninja @m0ri-apeuda @eastleighsblog @linoification @mlink64 @smally97 @fun-fanfics @chansducky10 @starfire21 @cessixja @siewoon @berryberrytan @binnies-minsung-fanclub @lethallyprotected

#stray kids smut #skz smut #yang jeongin smut #jeongin smut #skz317cb97 #cal 🖤 #skz317cb97 soulmate au series

[eregyrn-falls-art]

Gruß vom Krampus! 

December 5th is Krampusnacht, and I've done some pieces related to that over the years. This year I decided to update my depictions of Stan and Ford in the older two pieces (from 2016 and 2017 respectively), and to put the three all together. The original piece from 2016 was done for the 2017 Hunkles calendar (December of course), and the sequel was done for New Years the following year, with the final pic in the sequence appearing in Dec. 2020.

As I said in the original post, my version of the Krampus is based on looking at traditional folk costumes actually worn by krampus figures in Austria for the Krampusnacht festival.

And finally, just to keep it all in one place: after posting the 2020 piece, I got an ask about the little collection of Pines dolls that hang off of Krampus's basket in the second pic, and that Stan is holding in the last pic. I went into a long explanation (including an overview of the Krampus tradition and celebrations), so I'll put it below a cut here:

fernikart57 asked:

In your Krampus art... what's with that belt, neclace, bead (?) of plushes from the Pines Family?

Okay so like… the explanation is probably kind of dumb.  And it’s me making stuff up, rather than relying completely on the actual folklore.

So the Krampus figure is actually a collection of figures from Central Europe, particularly in the Alps, and the specific traditions associated with the Krampus can vary from region to region and town to town.  Thus, while a set of the Krampus tropes have kind of been exported and caught on in popular culture, that pop culture figure now only resembles *some* Krampus traditions.  I don’t think it’s accurate to talk about “a” Krampus or “the” Krampus, exactly, because of that regional variation.  It’s also worth noting that Krampus celebrations are very much alive in various towns in the Alps.

Generally speaking, though, Krampus is a “wild man” figure, often with a demonic face (mask), a furry body, and goat-like features (especially horns). There are some theories that the basic figure itself is pre-Christian (like a lot of the wild-man traditions of Central and Northern Europe).  (I personally think that’s pretty plausible, given the range of costumes we see.)

After the advent of Christianity, though, the Krampus became associated with “the devil” or demonic figures.  And eventually, in a lot of traditions within the Central European mountain area, Krampus got paired with St. Nicholas, as a kind of tag-team.  St. Nicholas in those traditions is almost certainly one of the origins of Santa Claus, in that he rewards well-behaved children with presents.  (But, traditionally he dresses like a bishop, and not in the outfit that a lot of Americans are familiar with.)  The 6th of December is the Feast of St. Nicholas, so Krampusnacht (”Krampus night”) is the 5th of December.  And Krampus acts as the opposite of St. Nicholas – if presents are a means of encouraging good behavior, then Krampus is the threat used to discourage bad behavior.

So, some of the accreted trappings of the Krampus are a whip and a bundle of birch branches, for beating children / people, and a basket that he carries on his back, into which he puts the naughty children he finds, to carry them off for punishment.  (Obviously, the message there is: don’t be naughty or the Krampus will get you.)  A number of the Krampusnacht traditions involve men costumed as Krampus running wild through the streets, threatening people with their birch branches or whips and so on, making noise (thus all of the bells worn around the neck) and kind of terrorizing people (not just kids), as a set-up for St. Nicholas to come in the next day and reassert order.  (Sometimes it’s only “terrorizing” in an “all in good fun” sense, similar to Halloween scariness; but apparently in some towns, it can get kind of rough.)

So with all of that background… I was originally just looking for a sort of “crytpid” or monster for Stan and Ford to be fighting, with a December theme, for that 2017 calendar piece.  They are encountering more of a magical, “real monster” version (rather than the folkloric ritual version), and therefore I took some liberties with the idea, even though I incorporated a lot of design elements from a variety of real Krampus costumes.

I didn’t want to put any actual children into Krampus’s basket for Ford and Stan to rescue, though (in the original calendar piece, they wouldn’t have been that visible).  But when I did the second piece, I included the doll versions of the four Pines, hanging from Krampus’s basket, as a sort of… symbolic magical threat, an expression of the idea that the Pines are its supernatural targets.  The dolls act as kind of representations of Krampus’s targets, and I also thought of them, in that sense, as a darker reflection of the St. Nicholas gift-giving tradition (still toys, but toys with a sinister meaning). If Krampus was a “real” supernatural being that goes around punishing the “naughty” or “wicked”… then what is its definition of “wicked”, and would it be a fair one, or unfair? 

In this scenario, Stan and Ford are not in the mood to debate with it over whether it is fair to take them to task for being “naughty”, but they are DEFINITELY not going to stand for the idea that the Krampus might go after Dipper and Mabel, so – time to take it down!

Anyway, for more about the actual Krampus, I recommend taking a look at the Krampus article on Wikipedia, or listening to this excellent podcast (which I was listening to as I finished the piece the other day; am very interested in getting that guy’s book!).

#gravity falls #stanford pines #stanley pines #sea grunks! #krampus #krampusnacht #gruss von krampus! #holidays #folklore #my art #id in alt

[medics-secret-shipfic-folder]

Just wanted to say that I kinda just obsessively went through your saucy tag and wow your art improved so much last year! Like, obviously it was really awesome to start with, but your recent work? Kinda jaw dropping. Your art style really speaks to me

Thank you so much! For the longest time I thought I was just kinda stagnating, but it's a relief to hear that my work actually has improved!

I think most of it comes from me finally using a "looser" style, if that makes sense.

This drawing is the best example of what I mean, because it was when I first started trying this new style. The eyes aren't solid circles anymore, there's significantly more variation in line thickness, the expressions are more fluid, I finally learned how to draw pupils and irises without cramming thick lineart into such a small space - overall, it's not nearly as rigid as what I was doing before.

Compare this to my old style, and...

It's not bad, per say, but everything is VERY stiff. If I had to point to why my old style was so rigid, it was because I was trying way too hard to keep consistent shapes with certain characters, and those shapes got in the way of dynamic posing and expressions.

Best example would be the way I used to draw Cmedic's hair. It's a series of very sharp shapes that do NOT lend themselves well to angling his head in any way that ISN'T a neutral 2/3 view. But in the newer piece, his hair is much simpler and "swoopier," making it much easier to draw him in a number of positions without his hair looking off.

This is just a long way of saying I leveled up in art lmao

#anonymous #team fortress 2 #tf2 #take back the fortress

[simsinlowspace]

Hobby Keeper - All 120 Freetime Hobby Posters on BV Travel Keeper

Hey everyone! Scratching another big project off the list today! 💃 Here are all 120 Freetime Hobby Posters on Bon Voyage's ubiquitous Travel Keeper mesh! Details, (lots of) swatches and download below!

@creesims had asked me about putting these posters on the BV mesh. I'd been thinking about putting them on a mesh with some add-ons anyway, so I figured Travel Keeper would be perfect since there are so many variations available.

While the artwork itself fit nicely on the mesh, a lot of the text either smacked right up against the mats, or got clipped by it. I went through and resized/moved the text on just about all of them, so you'll see some slight differences from the originals.

Here are all the designs included (I'm reusing the original swatches since the end result is basically what you see here, aaand I'm not really into re-swatching 120 posters right now XP):

Numbered swatches are included, and everything is sorted into folders so you can easily keep just what you like. I recommend a few add-ons so you can get the most out of these, including:

Buggybooz' Feast of Frames Karas Collectible Photostand @keoni-chan's Smaller Collectible Photostand hokadk47's Frameless Add-ons

You can find all the original versions for @linacheries' beautiful 4t2 conversion of Simsza’s National Park Prints below:

Tinkering Nature Arts & Crafts Fitness Science Cuisine Sports Games Music & Dance Film & Literature

And, of course, lots of gratitude to all the Flaticon designers who made the amazing resources I used in this series! Thank you to Freepik, Chanut-is-Industries, justicon, Smashicons, max.icons, Futuer, RaftelDesign, ultimatearm, mikan933, photo3idea_studio, iconixar, Victoruler, smalllikeart, Good Ware, smashingstocks, amonrat rungreangfansai, Nikita Golubev, Amethyst prime, Flat Icons, mynamepong, Luvdat, BZZRINCANTATION, monkik, Ina Mella,

(I hit the character block limit lol)

cah nggunung, Icongeek26, kerismaker, mnauliady, ToZ Icon, amethystdesign, Pixelmeetup, dreamicons, maswan, juicy_fish, surang, wanicon, Jesus Chavarria, Pixel perfect, Icon Pond, IconsNova, dDara, popo2021, Arkinasi, Aranagraphics, and samlakodad!

Okay, one last thing! I got an ask inquiring about a single download link for all the originals, so that's here as well! I'll also update all the original posts to make it easy to find.

DOWNLOAD HOBBYKEEPER (SFS) Recolors are ~2 MB!

DOWNLOAD ALL ORIGINAL POSTERS (SFS) Recolors are ~8.5MB, mesh is included

And thanks again to everyone who followed this project -- I really appreciate al the enthusiasm for these posters! 🤗🤗

Lots of love, Spacey

#s2cc #ts2cc #ts2 download #sims 2 download #ts2 custom content #sims 2 custom content #s2 cc #ts2 art #ts2 #ts2 posters #ts2 wall decorations

[littlesparklight]

While this isn't anything recently and I just came to think about it, every time I see any variation of "Paris should've stayed a shepherd" I'm like.

Oh, he should, should he?

Perhaps you should talk to the gods about that, then. It's not like he got a choice in the matter! (Wouldn't have with any of the goddesses!)

And I can never figure out what's meant with this sort of thing, because, like... If you're imagining he's a herder on Mount Ida because Hecuba had a dream omen and she and Priam reluctantly went through with having their baby exposed, that prophecy and Troy's fate (without or without attendant planning by Zeus) has set Paris leaving Mount Ida for Troy in stone. Because he's fated to destroy it.

(He's also, like. A slave, in these circumstances. He shouldn't have to be one!)

If we imagine that the dream omen doesn't exist and Paris thus grew up in Troy and is a herder in his free time or whatever (like some royals around these places are), or he's still spending some time doing this after being recognized as in the version above...

Well, he both could and undoubtedly would be called on by Priam to do princely work. And again, the the goddesses will come for him regardless. In some vase art of the Judgement the goddesses are clearly coming to Paris in a house/palace setting. Paris is in a non-zero number of art represented as a prince.

It's not as if he had a choice in being the judge. He didn't volunteer, and couldn't refuse.

Whatever his preference in terms of what he was doing (as a prince or a slave), living on Mount Ida full time or not, the circumstances that bring him down from the mountain is out of his control.

#paris of troy #idk it also always feel like there's an undercurrent in this type of post #that surely his family wouldn't care to have him and he's only an imposition #so it's better he's up on the mountain because who cares about him anyway right? #~they all obviously hate him~ #even before he's done anything! #never mind all the damn indulging they clearly do #even when a lot of them end up unhappy with him late in the war #greek myth thoughts

[barry-kent-mackay]

The Broad-winged Hawk (Buteo platypterus) breeds throughout most of temperate and the more southern parts of the boreal regions of North America, as well as in the West Indies, where there are five different island or archipelago-specific subspecies, all endemic and non-migratory. Northern birds winter as far south as central South America. In fact, the northern birds are noteworthy here in Ontario and much of eastern North America for their spectacular southward migration – that is, if you know when and where to look.  Massive numbers can pass by in a single day in the autumn, but usually (not always) rather high up, slowly circling, wings outspread, to catch thermals, or updrafts, that allow them to fly with minimum energy expenditure. Updrafts are like large bubbles of rising, warmer air. The birds start near the top and circle around the invisible bubble. Actually they are going down as the air goes up, so they may rise, slowly descend or stay at a pretty much the same altitude until reaching the bottom of the bubble at which point they soar to the next one. While they obviously detect the upward movement of warmed air they also know where such thermals are by seeing other hawks, eagles and vultures taking advantage of them. Thus, they actually fly many times further than the distance they cover from start to end, but with far less energy used than if they went “as the crow flies” in a straight line.

I have had people tell me they have never seen a Broad-winged Hawk on days and in places where I have seen hundreds.  One has to be attune to looking for them, and a good pair of binoculars certainly helps to enjoy the sight.

These flocks, some numbering in the thousands, may include various other birds of prey, including other members of the genus, Buteo, all having broad wings and rounded tails, along with other birds of prey, and vultures. It can be fun to try to identify the various species, and keeping track of numbers over the years is an important “citizen science” project that can determine trends in population sizes. Such “hawk watches” can turn into enjoyable social gatherings in places where the topography enhances the occurrence of updrafts, such as Hawk Cliff, Lake Erie, here in Ontario, Hawk Mountain, in Pennsylvania, Hawk Ridge in Minnesota and the River of Raptors in Mexico.

These are smallish, chunky hawks with relatively short tails. I have shown an adult, which is somewhat barred underneath, with the bars tending to coalesce across the upper breast, although typical of hawks, there is a great deal of individual variation. Immature birds are streaked on the breast and can be a little tricky to distinguish from the young of other members of the genus, Buteo.  Broad-wing adults weigh about 265 to 560 grams, or approximately 9.3 to nearly 20 ounces. Most are light morphs, but there is a rare dark morph that can be an all-over dark sooty-chocolate brownish color but with the same underwing and tail patterning as the typical pale morph.

Food consists of pretty well any small vertebrates they can capture, as well as large invertebrates, including insects, worms, and crabs, but small mammals, birds, reptiles and amphibians make up most of the diet. Driving through “cottage country”, in the Precambrian shield country of central Ontario, this hawk can often be seen perched on telephone wires, along the road’s edge, patiently waiting for prey.  This painting is approximately life-size in oils on a birch panel. I have also included a small preliminary study I did very many years ago, in acrylics on illustration board.

art may be used for non-commercial purposes with attribution

prints and original art for sale on Fine Art America

support barry kent mackay on ko-fi

#birds #birdlr #birblr #bird art #artist #barry kent mackay

[bowelfly]

while i usually keep this blog focused on art and bugs, movies are my third big passion, and since i don't believe in streaming services i don't have a spotify wrapped for 2022 to show off but i do have a letterboxd account so i felt like going through my 2022 movie watching stats. this post is basically for me alone and will be obnoxiously long so i'll put in a read more thing here out of courtesy:

ooh so close to almost 1000 hours of movies! still 718 films is pretty good, though that does also include around 80 or so shorts, mostly animations, that i also logged.

i was averaging around 2 movies per day for the year. being 500 miles away from all your friends, family, and partner does give you a lot of free time it turns out. the most movies i watched in a single week, december 10-16, was 28. the weeks i only watched a couple things were either when i was visiting my partner or too depressed to even watch movies

one of the things i've done this year to keep myself sane in isolation was to stream movies for friends. however since i have multiple non-overlapping friend groups, there were a number of movies i watched multiple times because i have a deep psychological and emotional need to share weird shit with the people i care about. NOVA SEED, FANTASY MISSION FORCE, and BUDDHA'S PALM were the triple crown winners this year.

i only watched 7 movies that came out in 2022. my sweet spot is genre movies made from the late 70s through the mid-90s which you can see clearly if you look at my lifetime stats. predictably, i have very strong opinions about practical effects and stunts and film stock

my ratings spread for 2022 is about what it normally is for other years with a lot of things ending up in the 3.5-4 star range. maybe i'm just generous with my stars or maybe i just like what i like and try to not watch things i won't like unless they're bad in a fun way but i really feel like i've been moving away from the whole so-bad-its-good thing over the years and focusing on things that i unironically like--though these are often films that other people do categorize as bad or so-bad-its-good.

my most watched actors is a bunch of golden age hong kong dudes because i went super hard on the kung fu and wuxia films this year. like about half of these are big name stars and the other half are less well-known character actors that still are in like 200 movies playing assorted emperors and evil administrators. really glad to see my main man lo lieh running away with first place. he's most well known for playing evil white-haired kung fu masters usually named pai mei or variations of that, but he's also played the protagonist or antihero of a number of great films like FIVE FINGERS OF DEATH or THE FUGITIVE (1972, not the harrison ford one). my favorite role of his is without question Bi Gu of East Island the rascally kung fu wizard who hollers his name from offscreen before every time he enters a scene in BUDDHA'S PALM (1982).

also very pleased to see one of my favorite american character actors, brion james squeaking his way onto the list, though sad that he got separated from his best friend and frequent collaborator tim thomerson, who i think is just below the cut here.

most watched directors. i've been a huge fan of the very recently deceased albert pyun for years now, largely on the strength of his absolute god-tier masterpiece NEMESIS (1992) though he has a number of other very entertaining movies (RADIOACTIVE DREAMS, CYBORG) and also a cavalcade of very bad movies that are nonetheless all fascinating in their own ways. i could go on about him at length but this post is long enough. maybe another time.

other than that, chor yuen (THE MAGIC BLADE, DESCENDANT OF THE SUN) and chang cheh (CRIPPLED AVENGERS, FIVE ELEMENT NINJAS) are gods of early wuxia cinema and fucking rule, and keita amemiya's 90s work (ZEIRAM, MECHANICAL VIOLATOR HAKAIDER, CYBER NINJA) are pinnacles of kickass japanese practical effects work.

i also watched a lot of russ meyer and john waters films because i'm a pevert.

this is mostly just a reminder to check out my WUXIA WIZARD WARS tumblr post and letterboxd list if you like movies about wizards shooting lasers at each other and summoning fucked up monsters and shit like that

finally, because i have a brain disease, i made a list of the 100 best films i watched this year, mostly first-time watches but probably like 15-20 rewatches that i especially enjoyed or think more people should know about or give another shot. if i didn't already have way too many projects i'd consider setting up another sideblog just going through all these one by one with reviews and screenshots but that's a lot of work and i am a tired old man. i might give an occasional highlight post like i did for THE BARON AGAINST THE DEMONS

and i guess that's about it? this has been an especially heavy year for golden age hong kong kung fu and wuxia films but i explored a lot of other interesting places and times and genres and microgenres and have a lot more i plan on checking out next year. i've got stacks and stacks of unwatched japanese V-cinema and pinku violence and kaiju and tokusatsu films; tons of giallo and hammer horror and eurotrash lesbian vampire flicks; classic westerns, revisionist westerns, spaghetti westerns; SOV horror, eastern european stop motion, hong kong CAT III sleaze, russian postapocalyptic dirges, poliziotteschi, krimi, and noir films; AIP and PM Entertainment action schlock; italian mad max ripoffs, italian alien ripoffs, italian conan ripoffs; approximately 300 movies with NINJA, BLOOD, or SHAOLIN in their titles; and probably some other shit too.

finally, if you've made it this far and you're a nasty little film freak like me i'll let you in on a secret: i have copies of every single one of these movies on my hard drive. literally thousands of movies dug out of dozens of digital dumpsters with my own two greasy grabby raccoon paws. if any of them particularly catch your interest but you can't find a copy, well you can maybe slip old professor bfly a little private request and get yourself a copy of whatever you need. it may take some time since i only have so many google drive accounts unless someone wants to subsidize a deluxe mega.nz subscription for me to mass-upload things to. i also have a soulseek account sharing the entire hoard but it's very slow and not always online but you can DM me for that as well. again though you may have to be patient because i am old and tired and slow and have a full time job and a hundred dumb hobbies and social anxiety and generalized brain damage

happy new year everyone now go watch a movie about some dudes kicking the shit out of each other for me

#bfly talks movies #letterboxd #long post

[an-asuryampasya]

tag game!

(that I'm doing only about a month late- yike) Tagged by @ghostboyjules! Thanks for tagging me! :D

Nickname: Ash! Unless you're my dad, in which case it's "[random affectionate adjective]+[random synonym for kid]" (except in Telugu)

Sign: Capricorn :]

Height: Uhhh, honestly don't remember. 5' something?

Last thing I googled: well, I use duckduckgo but it was something about the nivi drape.

I adore textile history (my interest is primarily corset-centric, but I'm trying to expand that), and since it came up, have a light infodump!

The ubiquitous sari style that pops up when you look up saris is the 'nivi' draping style. What's fascinating is that sari styles used to vary a great deal between regions and communities - everything differed, like the length of the sari, how it was draped, and what else was worn with it (side note: the blouses and petticoats that are SO essential to the modern sari only became popular after contact with European cultures and the new ideals of propriety that came with it. relatively pretty recent!).

So, y'know, there's an incredibly wide range of styles of wearing a sari (over 108 draping styles were documented by a historian in 2010, and of course there'd also be styles that cropped up and died out in the centuries before. And again, this was just draping styles, not variations in weaving, dyeing, patterns, etc. which exist too - though that's tangential to my point here. But basically, there's SO much that can be done with the single piece of cloth that the sari is! And saris are still evolving.)

Ah, but then skip to me in today's generation - someone grew up surrounded by sari-wearers my entire life. And yet I still genuinely figured the nivi style was the One Way to wear a sari for a very long time.

That's because in the second half of the nineteenth century, the nivi draping style became REALLY popular across regions. Most sources ascribe this to the nivi style being perceived as a "modern" style that was acceptable to both, colonial Indian and British sensiblities. It became SO popular, it overrode other regional styles in most places (there are still some places with other draping styles still common, but it's like. Well lemme put it this way: I didn't know the term 'nivi' till last year when I started looking into sari history. To me there was only ever the "standard" sari and the exceptions of the Maharashtrian or Bengali sari styles.)

So y'know, I'm fascinated by how a single style suddenly blew up in popularity so intensely that it changed the entire landscape of Indian clothing. We went from saris varying between neighbouring districts in some cases, to a single style populating pretty much the entirety of the first page of google image results for 'sari'.

[addendum: I feel like pointing out that this change also raises questions of practicality. I am not well-versed in the art of sari draping, but in my (very) limited experience, the nivi drape feels less practical than some of the older styles? Too many things that can flop around; I feel like the styles where everything is neatly tucked away + worn like pants is much more practical. Those styles lasted as long as they did for a /reason/. But, the nivi is possibly easy to wear, maybe? idk though, feel like you can learn any style with practice, and ease of doing things after you've worn it should outweigh how easy the act of wearing it is, imo. But also I don't particularly wear saris so idk.]

(sorry, this was supposed to have been a really quick aside, maybe a single para long. welp.) well, how about I offer what I looked up before that instead?

it was "cat pinned YOU pot broken tumblr"

Much more pithy and fun! I was looking for this image:

Song stuck in my head: Well I'm currently listening to 'Raise You Up / Just Be' from Kinky Boots, but for the past couple of days my brain's been cycling through songs from Treason and Ride The Cyclone (they're all musicals, yes).

Number of followers: Twenty something on this blog I think? I refuse to close this post editor to check. Weeding out the bots is a daily chore, though. :[

Amount of sleep: Surprisingly, I've been getting plenty of sleep of late! I think I got about 7 hours last night. I will CHERISH these few weeks of sufficient (if irregular) sleep for years to come. 😌

Dream job: this changes literally every three months, scream. but I keep coming back to something involving brief, intense periods of research into something, writing about it for a general audience, and then moving on to another topic.

Wearing: a shirt that reads 'stressed, depressed, but well dressed' that 13 y/o me absolutely loved owning, but it's still super comfy years later so ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ Paired with pyjamas that used to be my mum's but then I flicked them and then tore them and then mended them even though I don't even like them all that much, so really, what am I even doing with them still.

Movies/books that summarize you: listen, I'm an engineering graduate who fucking hates maths and physics. I think I'm legally obligated to say 3 Idiots akfksghksg. Also throwing in Enid Blyton because I grew up reading her stuff, Mamma Mia because how could I not mention it, and Maryada Ramanna for reasons I'll elaborate on some other time when I'm not dragging out an already long post.

Favorite song: I refuse to pick only one because (adopts horrified voice) how could I?! But right now, I keep going back to certain In Trousers and Hadestown songs (still talking musicals, yes. I promise I do listen to other stuff, just... not so much, of late). Also you can inject 'Take Things Into Our Own Hands' from Treason into my fucking veins, okay? I LOVE that so sodding much (the album version - I need you to know that, even if that clarification means less than nothing to you. The live concert version is not it). excellent revolution rousing song, that.

Favorite instrument: Ah this one's hard. I don't really focus on specific instruments much, so I'll go with the flute since I was rather partial to it as a kid - not the sound of it, not playing it. just. the instrument. idk. I spent a good chunk of time on the flute's wiki page back then ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ oh, taking a leaf out of jules' book and also going with voice - I am very much a sucker for a good bit of harmonising.

Aesthetic: genuinely stumped by this one, actually. will accept answers from anyone who's got an opinion on this!

Favorite authors: this question is MEAN. I mostly read fanfiction of late, but I also tend to just subscribe to them or bookmark their profiles rather than remember the usernames, welp. So mhmm before I dived into fanfiction, I was really into Trudi Canavan, Eoin Colfer, Cornelia Funke, Jane Austen, Enid Blyton, Sudha Murthy, and Rick Riordan, amongst others.

Random fun fact: I imagine this is meant to be a fun fact about me but I am itching to throw in a fun fact about construction technology or corsets instead akskgdg. I'm. Also blanking on literally anything remotely interesting about me akfkshg. welp, guess my fact shall be that I somehow manage to romanticise concrete technology regularly? (plasticisers are fucking awesome, okay? and I've said it a lot before, but the implications of acoustic emissions in concrete make me a lil emotional)

Well, brief dive into sari drapes aside, that's me done! many thank for tagging me, Jules! :D I took approximately forever to get around to doing it (apologies!), but I got to ramble about clothing history so I had lots of fun doing this now :]

(also consider this me tagging anyone who feels like doing this!)

#sorry it's just that clothing history is something I will gladly ramble about at the drop of a hat #which is saying something given that when it comes actually dressing myself‚ it's usually something like #randomly pairing leggings or swishy skirts with nine (?) year old graphic tees #maybe a kurti if I need to Dress Up #minimal thought goes into that #placeholder tag #anyway reading your tags on posts is always delightfully entertaining Jules #and reading your answers to these questions was equally fun :D #probably going to go look up the songs you mentioned in your answers now!

[muffinmonstah-art]

Lately I’ve gotten back on the Jaybabs ship thanks to things like the 3 Jokers comic storyline as well as Gotham Knights and man am I itching for some Gotham Knights-verse Jaybabs content. I’m most likely in the minority when I say that I like Jason’s design in this game because it makes him more distinguished when put next to the other Robin characters, and stuff like the character cutscenes where they interact are just so wholesome to me along with the voice lines and emails where they discuss stuff like therapy. In fact, the first times (In a row) I had a random player join my game was when I was playing as Red Hood and the player came in as Batgirl (coincidence, I think not). So now I’m wondering if you’re going to do some Jaybabs art or fanfics based in Gotham Knights?

Yes, I think you're really in the minority when it comes to liking Gotham Knights lmao

That game is a mess, bro. There's fanservice for us the Batfam fandom to like, sure, but the game is terrible. The characterizations for the characters are weak as fuck. Jason is the worst of them all.

To be fair I think Jason's design is the least of the problems regarding the elements in the game. It kinda growed on me too. The main problem is that the combat in the game is trash and they really did Jason dirty in that regard. He is the slowest and his mystical powers are not properly justified nor explored in the narrative. He also doesn't have an arc.

These devs talked too much on interviews about how their Jason went to therapy and shit before the events of the game, but his actions and dialogues in-game are contradictory with that exposition info. He behaves like the loner agressive Robin that resents working on a team and there is a tension with Dick at the beginning of the game that doesn't go anywhere after that. He also talks like his death was recent?? If he died so recently then when in the hell he had time to go to therapy?? Also if he went to therapy before the game then his friendly behaviour in the later cinematics doesn't feel earned nor like a natural progression, because his mind was already "fixed" off-screen.

I don't know, there's too much exposition refering off-screen previous history to set up these characters and that's a major flaw in my opinion. Their relationships with each other are not properly fleshed out. They rely too much on exposition and there is not enough progression in the few cutscenes each of they have, not even to learn more about who each of these characters are. Jason and Barbara don't even have too much interaction to begin with. They don't even talk about what both of them went through with the Joker. I don't understand how can you write interactions between these characters and miss THAT.

The only dynamic that feels like there was some actual effort put in to flesh it out is Jason & Dick. It's not much but at least they have the most number of interactions in cutscenes and there is some variation between the emotion they show to each other. They could have made the game about only Jason and Dick by that regard.

And I'm not even talking about the 30 fps issue, the lame RPG elements, the dumb Knighthood system where you have to unlock each hero's unique traversal by completing boring dumb challenges, the generic and boring open world, the lack of a conter-system to flesh out the basic combat, the bland use of the side villains, the waste of the Court of Owls as a main threat, the conflicting tones while trying to mix the horror and mystery with the goofy moments like the livin' la vida loca cover during the infiltration on the Blackgate prison, etc.

Gotham Knights as a whole is a very dissapointing game for me. This isn't the game I wanted, to begin with. I wanted a game made by Rocksteady and set in the Arkhamverse, after the events of Arkham Knight starring the Batfam of THAT universe. Instead we got this mediocre reboot of Arkham made by the support B Studio.

I think Warner Bross shouldn't allow any other studio than Rocksteady to carry on the Batman mythos and the making of Batman games. The Arkham franchise is fantastic. They nailed the characterizations, the dialogues, the designs, the voice acting, the humor perfectly mixed with the dark and gritty themes, the graphics that to this day look amazing, the combat!

Have you ever heard the audio logs from Arkham Knight's Jason? The exchange between that Jason and Barbara have more emotional impact than all GK's cutscenes in my opinion.

#asks

[unfoldingmoments]

Life and Death and the Quantum Wave Function

I have met others like us,’ Hugo said. ‘You see, I have been in the in-between state for a long time. I have encountered a few other sliders. That’s what I call them. Us. We are sliders. We have a root life in which we are lying somewhere, unconscious, suspended between life and death, and then we arrive in a place. And it is always something different. A library, a video store, an art gallery, a casino, a restaurant . . . What does that tell you?’ Nora shrugged. And thought. Listening to the hum of the central heating. ‘That it’s all bullshit? That none of this is real?’ ‘No. Because the template is always the same. For instance: there is always someone else there – a guide. Only ever one person. They are always someone who has helped the person at a significant time in their life. The setting is always somewhere with emotional significance. And there is usually talk of root lives or branches.”

And there is always an infinite range of choices,’ Hugo went on. ‘An infinite number of video tapes, or books, or paintings, or meals . . . Now, I am a scientist. And I have lived many scientific lives. In my original root life, I have a degree in Biology. I have also, in another life, been a Nobel Prize-winning chemist. I have been a marine biologist trying to protect the Great Barrier Reef. But my weakness was always physics. At first I had no idea of how to find out what was happening to me. Until I met a woman in one life who was going through what we are going through, and in her root life she was a quantum physicist. Professor Dominique Bisset at Montpellier University. She explained it all to me. The many-worlds interpretation of quantum physics.

Erwin Schrödinger . . .’ ‘He of the cat.’ ‘Yes. The cat guy. He said that in quantum physics every alternative possibility happens simultaneously. All at once. In the same place. Quantum superposition. The cat in the box is both alive and dead. You could open the box and see that it was alive or dead, that’s how it goes, but in one sense, even after the box is open, the cat is still both alive and dead. Every universe exists over every other universe. Like a million pictures on tracing paper, all with slight variations within the same frame. The many-worlds interpretation of quantum physics suggests there are an infinite number of divergent parallel universes. Every moment of your life you enter a new universe. With every decision you make. And traditionally it was thought that there could be no communication or transference between those worlds, even though they happen in the same space, even though they happen literally millimetres away from us.

But the point is, there are others like us. I have lived so many lives, I have come across a few of them. Sometimes just to say your own truth out loud is enough to find others like you.’ ‘It’s crazy to think that there are other people who could be . . . what did you call us? ‘Sliders?’ ‘Yep. That.’ ‘Well, it’s possible of course, but I think we’re rare. One thing I’ve noticed is that the other people I’ve met – the dozen or so – have all been around our age. All thirties or forties or fifties. One was twenty-nine, en fait. All have had a deep desire to have done things differently. They had regrets. Some contemplated that they may be better off dead but also had a desire to live as another version of themselves.’ ‘Schrödinger’s life. Both dead and alive in your own mind.’ ‘Exactement! And whatever those regrets did to our brain, whatever – how would you say? – neurochemical event happened, that confused yearning for death-and-life was somehow just enough to send us into this state of total in-between.’ Why is it always just one person that we see? In the place. The library. Whatever.’ Hugo shrugged. ‘If I was religious, I’d say it was God. And as God is probably someone we can’t see or comprehend then He – or She – or whichever pronoun God is – becomes an image of someone good we have known in our lives. And if I wasn’t religious – which I’m not – I would think that the human brain can’t handle the complexity of an open quantum wave function and so it organises or translates this complexity into something it understands. A librarian in a library. A friendly uncle in a video store. Et cetera.”

“So,’ Nora said, ‘whatever exists between universes is most likely not a library, but that is the easiest way for me to understand it. That would be my hypothesis. I see a simplified version of the truth. The librarian is just a kind of mental metaphor. The whole thing is.”

“But what if one day there is no video store?’ Nora thought about Mrs Elm, panicking at the computer, and the flickering lights in the library. ‘What if one day you disappear for good? Before you have found a life to settle in?’ He shrugged. ‘Then I will die. And it means I would have died anyway. In the life I lived before. I kind of like being a slider. I like imperfection. I like keeping death as an option. I like never having to settle.’ ‘I think my situation is different. I think my death is more imminent. If I don’t find a life to live in pretty soon, I think I’ll be gone for good.’

She explained the problem she’d had last time, with transferring back.

Oh. Yeah, well, that might be bad. But it might not be. You do realise there are infinite possibilities here? I mean, the multiverse isn’t about just some universes. It’s not about a handful of universes. It’s not even about a lot of universes. It’s not about a million or a billion or a trillion universes. It’s about an infinite number of universes. Even with you in them. You could be you in any version of the world, however unlikely that world would be. You are only limited by your imagination. You can be very creative with the regrets you want to undo. I once undid a regret about not doing something I’d contemplated as a teenager – doing aerospace engineering and becoming an astronaut – and so in one life I became an astronaut. I haven’t been to space. But I became someone who had been there, for a little while. The thing you have to remember is that this is an opportunity and it is rare and we can undo any mistake we made, live any life we want. Any life. Dream big . . . You can be anything you want to be. Because in one life, you are.

'But you will never live if you are looking for the meaning of life,’ he said, wisely. ‘You’re quoting Camus.

Excerpt From: Matt Haig. “The Midnight Library.”

#matthaig #themidnightlibrary #book #quotes #camus #sliders #quantumphysics #metaverse #SchrödingerCat #ErwinSchrödinger #multiverse #infinite

[j-graysonlibrary]

The Xiang Chronicles: Book Three Chapter 18

Title: The Xiang Chronicles: Book Three

Author: Jay Grayson

Word Count: 107k

Genres: Fantasy, adventure, drama, LGBT+

Available on: my website

Synopsis: Only one Xiang remains and her name is Merra. She hopes to unite the land by force and plow down anyone in her way—especially the people of Agni who she deems faithless and the native people of Terra who refuse to cooperate with her.

Raine continues to serve his Lord but he has taken to alcoholism to soothe his grief—a fact he keeps out of his letters with Heidi. Baiya has returned to mercenary work in order to keep his family safe while Kira is on the warpath. He, fully, takes on the title of Chaaya and means to defeat the Xiang he sees as false.

And, in a guarded castle in Enlil, a stir-crazy Princess dabbles in the dark arts, setting in motion something even Tiandi cannot see.

Full chapter 18 under the cut

Chapter XVIII:

A rather large assembly of guards stood at the front gate, at attention. A much smaller number of elite guards hung back, encircling Sunny as she, too, walked to the exit. She would not be leaving with them but she wished to see her sister off.

The King and Queen were, unsurprisingly, absent.

Raiden was there as well, slightly confused by the entire situation. More than once he mentioned, “My father will be coming in a day or two…what will I tell him?” Or some other variation of that question.

And, each time, May would answer, “I do not give a shit—say whatever you want. Marry Sunny if you still want an alliance.”

Pangu was worried about leaving Sunny but May assured him that she was in the care of other trusted guards. He supposed she was, already, taken care of by other people he had not met so it was not so strange to leave her with them.

The group around her all received orders from May and also the siblings. Tense conversations, ones Pangu could not hear, took place but he could guess how they went judging by the guards’ faces. Ashen and slightly horrified, they were probably each told of some macabre end should they fail to look after Sunny properly.

To the side, apart from the guards, were two figures Pangu felt he needed to speak to while the others were busy wrapping things up.

Sha-parvati and Cuad stood shoulder to shoulder, almost as tall as one another but Cuad had about an inch advantage. Pangu glanced between them and felt a familiar pang in his chest.

“You will not be coming with us,” he stated more than he asked.

Both nodded. “I cannot afford to spend time with you any longer. Especially not out there in the wide world,” Sha-parvati lamented, “but you will not need me so I am not worried.”

Cuad agreed, “Yes, you are more than capable, Pangu. I also trust you will find what you are looking for.”

It was an ill-fated attempt but Pangu still reached out for the hood over the man’s face. His hands were grabbed but held gently and lowered.

“I am sorry but you cannot see my face. Even now.”

“If I see you again, will you still be wearing this?” Pangu tilted his head to the side.

“Perhaps but…I should hope not.” His voice carried a short tremor but then he chuckled. “You will not need me, Pangu, and that is the best gift I can give you.”

Pangu was unsure whether a hug was due or not so he kept his distance to be safe and simply waved at the two as they walked back into the castle—each to disappear in their own unique ways but out of sight from the guards. As strange as the entire situation was, the soldiers did not need even more gossip to spread about.

He glanced back to the others to see May hugging onto Sunny and rocking their bodies back and forth. She looked like she was squeezing with everything she had as well.

“I am going to miss you,” she said through clenched teeth and then relaxed some to continue, “You are the only reason I would want to stay.”

“Will you come back?” Sunny asked, looking up at the ceiling instead of her sister.

“Maybe some day.” May finally stopped squeezing her and sort of let go. She still kept her hands on her arms and looked ready to pull her back into another hug at any moment. “But, for now, I have to fly free. I have to get out of here.”

Sunny’s eyes brimmed with tears and she loudly sniffed. “But…I…Um, have fun, May. Be safe.”

“I will write letters,” she responded as if she just thought of the idea. “I will keep a journal and send you the pages!”

The two nodded at each other, both crying now. May pulled Sunny into another hug, more crushing than the last but about half the length.

When May pulled back again, she had a more serious expression. “Look, you are in charge now. Do not let mom and dad tell you what to do. You will be Queen, got it?”

Sunny gave her a short nod and wiped her eyes. “I will try.”

May pointed at Raiden with a glare. “You help her. Our parents will try to push their weight around and your father will probably try as well. But you two are the future, not them. Do not let them forget it.”

“Y-yes, of course.” The young prince gulped.

“Alright.” May sighed and looked around, meeting Pangu’s eyes first and then glancing to Fujin and Kaz who were still having a private conversation with some of Sunny’s guards.

They walked back over when they were done and Fujin asked, “Where are Parvati and Cuad?”

“Already gone,” Pangu announced.

“Could have said goodbye to all of us…” May grumbled but quickly shrugged it off. “Anyway, it is finally time. Guards! Open the gates!”

The massive double doors, that could only be opened and closed by three men on each side, drawing them back with a chain, slowly parted and sunlight flooded into the hall. Somehow, the fresh air at that moment felt different than the air in the castle courtyard.

It filled May’s lungs and a smile lifted on her face. She took the first step out and then shouted as loud as she could, causing a few guards to flinch and cover their ears.

Fujin looked at her with an amused grin. “You okay?”

May took a ragged breath before laughing. “I am great. We should hurry to Mythos!”

She kept in front all the way down the bridge. It was a long trek and Pangu would bet most people took horses but they had decided to travel on foot—at least while they were still in the capital.

The trip to the larger island was a bit slow (despite May’s running and leaping about) but Pangu could admit that the view was gorgeous.

He had seen glimpses from the windows of the castle but nothing compared to the view from the bridge. There, suspended over the water, he could see far into the distance, to the north-eastern shore of Ven where mountains rose up into the clouds. Of course, the skyline of Mythos was beautiful as well with the ornate dragon carvings along the walls and the uniform but ancient look of the buildings.

Some of the oldest trees in the world were located in Mythos and walls and shops were always built around them rather than tearing them up. There were people whose entire job it was to tend to the aging trees and it was considered good luck to run ones fingers along the bark when passing by.

May had been before, a long time ago, but was never allowed to really look around. Fujin and Kaz had to keep by her to make sure she did not bolt off unexpectedly so Pangu also found himself occasionally sprinting to not be left behind. Kaz would not allow that, however, and frequently split his attention between the princess and the Xiang—clearly favoring the Xiang.

“Have you been into Mythos much?” Pangu decided to ask when May slowed down in the town square. She looked around at the arts and crafts stalls, running her hands along everything with wide eyes. It seemed she was less likely to start running here so he figured it was a decent time for conversation.

Kaz smiled and kept his eyes on the princess, occasionally glancing over. “Well, not really. It has been a few months since I was by but, when Fujin and I were training, we used to spend almost every weekend here with our father.”

Their father, the elite guard before them, had passed away in the last five years. It was a story Kaz had told Pangu at night, fairly early on when he had been full of questions. The man was less of a father and more of an instructor so, while he and Fujin were saddened by his passing, it did not hurt in the way they expected a parental death to.

“Did you miss it?”

Kaz met his eyes and the corner of his lips pulled up. “A little. But I am excited to see outside of this small world of ours.”

As was Pangu. He knew, from what Sha-parvati and Cuad told him, that he had traveled all over the land so he wondered if revisiting some of those places would be a stronger trigger and bring back his memories. If people from his past were not effective enough then maybe locations would be.

Once May was satisfied with her haul and they were stocked on supplies, they headed for the stables outside of the city. Pangu noticed a very distinctive hesitation, however.

He checked between the three of them and asked, “Do any of you know how to ride horses?”

Fujin and Kaz exchanged a look before Fujin said, “We were taught…when we were young. I still remember the lessons, however.”

“I think you know my answer,” May responded.

It was not something Pangu had considered until then, actually. May had been locked up her entire life—of course she had never ridden a horse before. He almost wanted to laugh as a sensation, stinking of irony, came over him though he could not imagine why.

“Okay, well, you can ride with Fujin. I can teach you on the road.” Pangu offered a smile. “It is not so hard. I am sure you will quickly get the hang of it.”

They paid for three horses, a larger one for Fujin since they would be carrying two bodies. Pangu mounted his horse with ease and then watched the others struggle with it. He almost asked just how long it had been since the siblings had ridden but he did not want to embarrass them.

“We can take it slow,” he said instead, “And any refreshers you need, I will provide.”

“At least you remember this,” Fujin decided to look on the bright side as she helped May up onto the back of her horse. That, at least, could be assisted with a little push in the air which the women used to their advantage.

Once they were on the road, May’s excitement at seeing brand new scenery kicked in and she often cut into Pangu’s riding lessons. Still, it worked, although Pangu kept feeling ridiculous for explaining riding techniques. In a strange way, he felt like a beginner as well, teaching other beginners, but he attributed that to his long, unintentional hiatus from the living world.

The journey was only slightly faster than walking but it kept them from tiring as badly and they were able to find another town by nightfall. The next day was a minor improvement (though they all complained about being saddle sore) and they headed up into the mountains.

Pangu worried about their novice skills in the rough terrain and, once the paths became a little narrow, he suggested everyone simply lead their horses along, on foot, rather than ride them.

The sun hit the tops of the pale gray mountains and the path started to darken but, on the horizon, there was a sign denoting a town and Pangu sighed in relief. They reached it just as the sky turned orange and red and, while he suspected most of the shops in the tiny, mountainside town to be closing, he was just grateful to have reached a stopping point.

“I do not see a stable, where do we keep our horses?” Fujin asked.

“They should have some hitching posts outside the inn,” Pangu answered and added internally that he hoped they at least had an inn.

Only a handful of stores lined the narrow street and a wooden shack in great need of renovation sat at the end of the path with a sign hanging from the roof that said “inn”. Pangu tied his horse’s reins to the post outside and waited for the others to join him.

May was lagging, however, and stayed out in the road, looking at the shops. As exhausted as she must have been from the trip, she still kept a smile on her face as she examined every novelty.

The second Fujin was done tying up her horse, she ran over to join May. Both to keep her guarded and to prevent her from taking the apples on display outside of the grocery.

Pangu and Kaz rented a room in the meantime but quickly walked back outside to grab their things from their horses and watch the two women. Fujin furiously put down money on the abandoned merchant cart for every item May simply picked up and placed in her pockets or took a bite from.

She may have been a sheltered princess who did not fully understand how commerce worked but after being told over and over again, she had a much better idea—she was just acting out to bother Fujin at this point.

Kaz chuckled as he watched them, “You know…” he started but then paused.

Pangu looked up. “Yes?” he coaxed him along.

Still keeping his eyes forward, Kaz continued, “Right as we finished puberty, I noticed something with them. I was not sure what it was at first but they started to spend nights together and, after a while, I figured it out. I never took issue with it, obviously, but they never talked about it either. Even today they do not refer to each other as lovers or anything like that…”

When he trailed off again, Pangu raised an eyebrow. “Do you think they should?”

“It is up to them.” He shrugged. “But, I suppose, I was just wondering…” He cleared his throat, suddenly sounding a bit nervous. “I mean, it works for them and I never thought of how I would want things if I were in the same situation. Mostly, I did not believe I would ever be in the same situation. The idea of being close to anyone was revolting…still sort of is. Anyway, there was a question I wanted to ask but I am unsure how to ask it.”

“Are you…wanting me to call you my lover?” Pangu guessed and bit back his laugh when the man’s face turned pink.

“Maybe not so directly?” Kaz frowned. “I do not despise it or, maybe I do. I am not sure. We do not need to call ourselves anything…if you do not want to. But…” he sighed.

“We can try a few things and see what we like. If we do not like anything then so be it.” He offered a smile to help ease his clearly frayed nerves.

Kaz sighed and nodded. “Right. But, I still…how we are…I am fine with that. I am unsure how we can continue as we had been now that we are out in the world but…”

“Nicer towns, decent rooms at an inn.” Pangu nudged him. “But no time soon, probably. Sorry, honey.”

His pink cheeks burned bright red and he covered his face with his hand. “Not that!”

Pangu cackled, getting the women’s attention and calling them over. May, especially, looked curious and eager given Kaz’s current state.

“What is going on?”

“Nothing.” Pangu grinned from ear to ear. “We need to head inside and rest though—we have a long day ahead of us tomorrow.” He nudged Kaz along but the poor, embarrassed man could still not show his face.

#the xiang chronicles #my novel #my writing

[64bitgamer]

[thewolfcatcher]

Tri Carti!

Or, as I should call it: "Another Variation of the same theme again, a specially bloody version"

If you are considering entering masonry, watch this. This is going to warn you of the horrors of it. You only need to know that masons are obsessed by the number three and riddles; and that the secret name is, obviously, Voldemort.

I've been personally previously warned by Puccini in "Madame Butterfly" (Tri Carti!)

Three months after I entered BH Philharmonic I went to the Dvd rent shop closest to my apartment and I found, surprised, Puccini's Mdm Butterfly DVD, the only opera available for renting at the shop. This opera became my favourite, to be outranked for Queen of Spades two years after.

I watched Mdm. Butterfly before everything. So, I wouldn't fall at the hands of the first American that promised marriage, right?

At the end of the story it was me who had to decipher riddles in order to live.

I invite you to decipher this Opera to destroy masonry a bit more.

GOD BLESS THE MAGIC FLUTE!

What Puccini had to be through in life to write such a beautiful work of art?

Puccini answer to everything was, as a good Ultra-Romantic: "Everything is fixed with true love"

#Youtube

[beltpaper59]

Little Known Questions About Can I Cancel My Timeshare Contract Through Email?.

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#timeshare legal #timeshare exit programs #how to cancel a timeshare #timeshare contract cancel