Valentine's Chocolate Bars ♡

a friendly reminder that microaggressions against asians can also look like this:

pretending to gag at asian food

pretending to be weirded out by asian customs and cultures

excusing cultural appropriation (often through ignoring the stories of asians who have been mocked for wearing their ethnic dress while praising a white person for doing so)

not trying to learn how to pronounce an asian person's ethnic name correctly, or asking, "can i call you by something else?"

adopting an asian name for the ~aesthetic~

using the words "oriental" and "exotic" to describe asian people, particular asian women

ignoring the experiences and stories of south, southeast, and central asians

making sweeping assumptions about asian countries (including their political, historical and cultural landscape)

treating the entire asian community as a monolith and ignoring the fact that the experiences of asian nationals are remarkably different from the asian diaspora/migrant community

co-opting asian aesthetics into creative media without acknowledging their history

Confessions Of Memories. | • 4.

1. | 2. | 3. | 4. | 5. | 6. | 7. | 8.

Mine never wanted me.

My father is something of a dead myth, and my mother was a criminal.

A perfect upbringing for me really.

Li Jing looked to the unfinished diary entry, the words burning through her pupils. Her eyes constricted, as she cradled herself, shoving it away with her foot. She scrunched her raven strands in her fist, as she chewed on her lip.

XXXX

My dream got eaten last night..

But I'm recovering.

"Xiao wasn't responsible, was he?" She sighed, to no-one in particular.

That was the truth. The secret that she so desperately needed to tell him. To at least chip away at his guilt- even slightly - wasn't possible. He would never know, because she would never tell him.

XXXX

I don't want to stay with her.

The page lay unfinished.

The next week after the entry, Li Jing was alone.

Loneliness plagued her life without hesitance. She dragged herself through a path that only led to more loss. Yet if she stopped, she would betray her mother. Being loyal to her mother was the only thing she needed.

She wished.

Li Jing shuffled to the door, quiet as she looked to the dawn that was illuminating him. Xiao was perched there, like his usual self. His breaths paced, body stiffly stuck in one place. She sat beside him, watching the sun glide over the debris of the moon.

"You really need to relax sometimes." She glanced at him.

"Hmph. And where's the time for that? Liyue isn't a place for rest."

"Then where is?"

Xiao hummed, looking to her arms. Her arms, were probably warm. But they had also probably forgotten him.

"Well what about you then?"

"History doesn't rest, so I can't either."

"Promise me you'll rest." His eyes clicked with her own, his tone soft.

"I'll keep the promise if you rest as well."

"Fine."

He leaned forward. He hesitated. With her eyes screwed shut, a soft warmth was pressed to her head, his sleeve dragging across the wood as he retracted. Li Jing's cheeks flushed, as her heart was pierced with ache once more.

"What are you guys doing?" The Traveller looked up to them, sleepy and worn with leftover fatigue. Xiao arched his brow, gracefully landing infront of the Traveller. Li Jing took the stairs down.

She linked arms with the Traveller, leading them away from him.

"The book you picked wasn't easy."

"Why?"

"The memories of the author are dead. None of their memories were clear."

"Then what are you going to do?"

"I'll need to meet this village's historian."

She brushed her hair rapidly, taking her two hairpins out of her side pocket.

"Who gave you those hairpins?"

"These? Oh."

"One is from Xiao."

Her face flushed red with fever. Days were blurring together as she looked to the outside, which had a quiet pond. The only thing keeping the days apart was Xiao.

His eyebrows were furrowed. Xiao leaned closer, his lips pressing a soft kiss to her head. Her eyes were heavy with fatigue, the cold cloth on her head slightly aiding her.

"Get well soon, please." He murmured, placing a hairpin in her hand.

She held his hand, a soft smile glazing her face.

"The other is from my best friend."

The summer sun was set on the water, as they padded through the sand, their arms gritty with wet sand. She paused, dirting her dress as she searched for an item.

"Mei your dress!"

" My mom doesn't care. Here! I got us matching hairpins! "

"What'd she look like?"

"I can't remember."

-

"I remember you! You must be the village historian?" Li Jing quipped.

"Yes, it's an honour to meet someone who has been documenting for centuries."

Her chest creaked with unease. She looked at his dark eyes, chuckling lightly.

"You knew the author?"

"Quite well actually. She passed on just a decade ago."

"I hoped she lived well."

"She did, being the great- granddaughter of Honghui. "

"Honghui?"

"I'm going to marry Hui! "

"You're only ten!"

Mei huffed, crossing her arms.

"True love doesn't wait, does it?"

"I can't believe she's dead. She was only 18!"

"Honghui is so distraught, he won't even leave his study."

"Yeah, he's an old name now. His tale is quite sad- moving on, you needed information for the book?"

"Yes, thank you."

"Make yourself at home."

"I'll be leaving in fifteen minutes, it's really not necessary."

She shuffled, tucking her sleeves to her side. The man glanced at her, his eyes lingering on her. Li Jing let her eyes fall to the table.

"No need to rush."

-

So, India is dying.

Look, I know a good number of you are from the US and things aren't amazing there either, but my country is literally on the brink of collapse. So I'd love it if we could talk about that for a minute.

If you can't do anything else, please just read and reblog.

A second COVID wave has taken out the healthcare system. There are no more hospital beds. There's an oxygen shortage. There's a critical vaccine shortage. The Central Government has thrown its hands up and is passing the baton to the State Governments to do what they can.

There are over 16 million covid cases. A record 330,000 new cases reported yesterday - comparable to the US at its peak. 187,000 dead as of today.

There is no plan.

Mass cremations are taking place. The cremation grounds are running day and night and they are short on wood. People are watching their loved ones die while waiting for a hospital bed, and then they're unable to give them the proper burial rights.

Hospitals are overwhelmed. Patients are being confined, two to a bed. They're the lucky ones.

We are on the verge of people dying in the streets.

This is the second-most populous country in the world. The largest democracy. A country that encapsulates over 15,000 years of recorded human history and has endured everything from famine to invasion to colonisation.

We might be at the end. This might be the thing that does us in.

People are dying.

People are dying.

People are dying and there is no plan.

More good news? Variants are popping up. A double mutation strain has shown up. It is resistant to current vaccines. This will not go away. This is the devastation they warned of when the anti-maskers were out protesting the minor inconvenience of covering their face in public.

My country is on the verge of an emergency state. Our government has failed us. This is as dire a situation as it ever could be.

Look. I don't do much with my life. I write fics, some of you have read them and that's pretty much it. I spend my days with my head in the clouds because that's where I like to be.

But two days ago, my grandmother tested positive, had to be taken to hospital and the ambulance caught fire.

She barely made it to the urgent care she needs.

So, here I am, using whatever meager platform I have to cobble this request together. Because I have to do something.

If you can, donate.

Or spread the word.

Help. Please.

New Harukawa illustration, which will be fetured on next month's Young Ace cover

UH - UHM uhm UHM I- UHM 🫶🏾❤️???????

yo.

The result

Atsushi: *running towards Akutagawa with open arms*

Akutagawa: *moves out of the way*

Atsushi: Hey why'd you move?!

Akutagawa: I thought you were going to attack me!

Atsushi: I was going to hug you!

Akutagawa: Why would you hug me?!

Atsushi: WHY WOULD I ATTACK YOU?

Confessions Of Memories. | • 3.

1. | 2. | 3. | 4. | 5. | 6. | 7. | 8.

Li Jing wished she hadn't taken the route.

She feared for him.

Of course he had lived hundreds of centuries that had built his immunity to wounds, there was nothing wrong with being cautious.

"We'll get to rest soon." She said subconsciously to the two.

Xiao nodded, whilst the Traveller was silent. Who is Mei? They looked to Li Jing, who beamed at them. They looked to the path again.

Li Jing was greeted by a little girl as they finally got to the circular village. The girl tugged on her sleeve.

"Are you staying over again? Everyone missed you. You barely visit after last year's Spring!"

Li Jing chuckled lightly. Her face fell flat, as she beckoned for the two to follow her. The path curved into a lively place, one of yellow hues and humble faces. As they settled in, she couldn't make contact with him.

He remembered; she could feel it in her swollen soul.

"So why did they need you right now? Couldn't they have asked someone else?" He murmured.

Li Jing looked at him for a moment before bursting out with laughter.

"I didn't know you whined." She pinched his cheek, prompting him to scoff.

He buried his head in the nape of her neck, his hands firmly around her waist. She hummed, filling in the last of her scroll. His affection was a plea for her attention. The ink finally finishing. They walked through the back of the village, leaving them to the stars.

His head laid in her lap, she stroked his hair. The moon smiled at the two, willing them to be together.

Except they weren't. The sunset stuck in the sky, unwilling to move for them. She dropped her things in her room, kicking it in so the door could close. The dust stuttered in the air as the door settled in place, leaving the three of them in the open area.

The birds chirped, the crows squawked.

"Make yourselves at home- for now."

"Going somewhere?" Xiao asked gently.

"Mhm. I won't take long."

She didn't have to walk far to find the rounded mound of grass and mold, littered with broken white roses and unfailing snow. Sunrays lulled on the grass, quietly expecting Li Jing.

She kneeled beside the mound, her hands curled up into delicate fists. The snow dampened her dress, as she scraped at the snow to mold a heart. She placed it ontop, and stood.

"I wish I could remember your face."

The path she walked back was one that left her empty, and senseless. She stepped back into the room, unravelling her hair. She placed her hairpins on her table. Li Jing stretched out the scroll, placing a weight on either end.

She loaded the ink.

There was a faint growl, one of pain. She paused, hearing the scraping of wood. Li Jing approached his room, his hoarse breathes filling the room.

A smooth wave of paralysis unclosed around her, hand outreached.

She hummed, like she would always do. She would just have to improvise for the harp that wasn't being played. Her throat grew brittle, as she stood from a distance, waiting for him to show any signs of relaxing.

His shoulders drooped.

A heavy silence filled the room, as they failed to make eye contact.

"I'll leave you alone. Call me if you need anything."

-

He poured hot water on the herbs, carrying it to her study. His hand hovered over the handle. Either way, he would still find her in her study, her hair like a black curtain over the book. He placed it beside her.

"Oh, thank you."

"How is the book coming?"

"Finding the memories that fit with this book isn't as easy as I thought."

"Maybe you need a break then."

She smiled to herself, closing the book as he sat opposite of her. She glanced into the glass, the hued water letting the petals fall to the bottom.

"...Sorry. I'm sorry for saying that. " She murmured.

Xiao crumpled his face, and turned to the side. What was he to say? I don't have feelings anyway. I don't deserve them.

"You don't need to apologise for that."

Her face grew faint, as she took a sip. As her tongue burned, she realized just how much she want to tell him. She wanted to tell him the truth.

-

Borrowing town memories was easy. Yet, as she sat in the place where the author once was, she could not remember. In fact, she was beginning to forget. Her eyes dulled, waiting for midnight to strike.

"It must be difficult being a historian. You constantly ignore your life to record others."

Li Jing looked at the Traveller. She smiled gracefully, fixing her posture.

"You could look at it like that. I like to look at it like an escape."

The Traveller sat beside them, resting their hands in their lap.

"I wanted to ask,"

"Who's Mei?"

"I'm not ready to answer that." She faltered, fiddling with her fingers.

"Is that why did you become a historian?"

"That wasn't because of her. I'm just naturally indebted to Liyue."

"Naturally." They thought to themselves.

"You're lucky to have a fate of your own." She chuckled.

The Traveller quipped a brow, to find Li Jing's gaze averted to the sky.

You're lucky,

To have parents who wanted you.

-

Confessions Of Memories Is Finished!

So I finally finished the short ff, it was really fun to write! I'll be writing some SK8 fics, but that's all! 🌺🍓

Character designing is fun, especially when the world is built very intruigingly. Original or not, it something I definitely have fun with each time, because I have to shape a piece of wood into a puzzle piece that fits the jigsaw :)

Ohmyg OHMYG the blending and hair lighting 😭🫶🏾

RAMUDA

DAMN IM BACK LIKE KINDA ILL PROBS GO DEAD AGAIN AFTER THIS but i tried watercolors with ramu and im crying it turned out so good GRRRR folo4mor like damn im so good

my commissions are closed but i'm selling those mfs for 40€ to practice dm if interesteeddd i can also ship them to you :3 another exampl under the cut that was actually commissioned afghds ok bye

also since i've been like super dead i'd appreciate reblogging for a little boost so i dont flop hard msjfsd thank you