gdgw valarr vs tt aerion when it comes to holding LS purse/bag, looking after her drink, letting her put makeup on them etc.?
These were so fun to do, I would honestly be open to doing more of these if anyone wanted to know anything else! I love domestic stuff heehee. Truly the holy trinity of "how whipped are you, actually?"
holding your purse / bag
gdgw!valarr
Takes it before you even ask. You're reaching for your coat and your bag is already on his shoulder, strap adjusted, held like it's a portfolio he's been carrying between meetings his entire life. There's no performance to it, no reluctance. Valarr has a net worth that would make anyone's eyes water and an MBA and he carries your leather tote through the lobby with the exact same posture he carries his own briefcase. Comfortably.
He doesn't joke about it. Or do the thing where men hold a woman's bag at arm's length like it's radioactive. He hooks it over his shoulder and keeps talking to whoever he's talking to and if anyone looks at him (they don't, because no one who knows Valarr is stupid enough to comment) his expression wouldn't change. The bag is yours. You are his. Therefore the bag is his. Transitive property.
The one time Matarys made a crack about it ("nice colour on you, brother"), Valarr looked at him with that patient, flat, brown-and-blue stare and said, "It's Dornish leather, actually. She has good taste," and went back to his phone. Matarys, to his credit, looked highly amused.
What he actually likes about it (the part he would never say out loud) is the intimacy of the contents. Your lipstick rolling against his hip. Your keys, your wallet, the little tin of mints you keep. The weight of your daily life pressed against his body. He has catalogued every item in that bag without ever opening it, just from the sounds and shapes of things shifting. He knows when you've added something new. He always knows.
He adjusts the strap sometimes. He doesn't just sling it over his shoulder. He settles it, shifts the weight, finds the balance point the way you do. You watched him do this once in a hotel lobby in Pentos, absent-mindedly correcting the way the strap sat across his chest while he read something on his phone, and your heart did that stupid little kick. He handles your things with the same care he handles you: attentively, like damage is unthinkable.
He'll hand it back to you when you need it (never rummaging, never opening) and sometimes his fingers brush yours on the strap and linger there a half-second longer than necessary. It's not accidental. Nothing Valarr does is ever accidental.
Once, you left your bag in his car overnight. He brought it up to the apartment and set it on the counter next to his keys, your bag and his keys side by side, and something about the image (the domesticity of it, the settled permanence, his keys your bag their counter) hit you in the sternum. He saw you looking. He didn't say anything. He didn't have to. The corner of his mouth said it for him: this is what I want every morning. Your things next to my things. Your life inside my life. Stay, stay, stay.
tt!aerion
The first time you tried to hand him your bag (a crossbody you'd slung off because your shoulder was sore from hauling boxes at the estate) he looked at it, looked at you, and said, "What am I, your fuckin' valet?"
He took it anyway. Held it in one fist by the strap, not on his shoulder, dangling at his side like a gym bag. He looked ridiculous. He knew he looked ridiculous, too. He also didn't care, because you'd asked, and you asking him for anything (even something this stupid) lights something up behind his ribs that he would rather die than name.
Aerion will never offer. That's the difference. Valarr takes the bag before you ask. Aerion waits to be asked, bitches about it, and then holds it like he's guarding evidence at a crime scene. If anyone on his crew looked at him sideways he'd stare them down with those pale eyes until they found somewhere else to be.
But (and this is the thing) if you tried to take it back too soon, his grip would tighten. Just slightly. Not enough that you couldn't pull it free, but enough that you'd notice. Enough that you'd understand: I've got it. I said I've got it. Leave it.
Once, at a gas station, you went inside to pay and left your bag with him in the truck. You came back out and he'd moved it from the seat to his lap. Both hands resting on it. Thumbs hooked in the strap. Not looking at it, looking at the gas station, jaw set, smoking with one hand. Your bag in his lap like a dog he was minding. You didn't mention it. You climbed back in and he passed it over without a word, and the cab smelled like cigarettes and his soap and something private moved between you that didn't need language.
The worst part (for him) is that it becomes habit. He stops needing to be asked. You'll be climbing out of the truck and your bag will catch on the gearshift and before you can untangle it his hand is there, lifting the strap free, slinging it over his own shoulder without breaking conversation. He does it once in front of Travis and one of the other guys from the crew and doesn't even notice he's done it until he catches Travis's expression (half grin, half raised eyebrow) and his jaw sets and his ears go red at the tips and he does not, pointedly, put the bag down. Because putting it down now would be admitting it means something. Keeping it is defiance. He is, somehow, defiant about carrying your purse. Only Aerion could make holding a woman's bag look like a threat.
looking after your drink
gdgw!valarr
This isn't a favour Valarr does. It's a protocol he runs. He tracks your glass the way a good security detail tracks exits. Constantly, without appearing to. You set your drink down at a gala, you walk away, you come back: it's exactly where you left it, and Valarr has not physically moved it, but he's been watching it the entire time with the peripheral awareness of a man who's decided that the things that belong to you are extensions of you and therefore fall under his jurisdiction.
He doesn't let strangers near your glass. This is not performed, not the kind of thing anyone else at the event would clock. It's the way he'll shift (just slightly, that elegant lateral drift he does) to put himself between your unattended drink and a passing tray, or a stray hand, or a waiter who's reaching to clear. Your glass stays where it is. People move around it like water around a stone. They don't know why. Valarr knows why.
If you're drinking wine, he knows when you're running low before you do. A fresh glass will appear at your elbow (the same vintage, the same pour) via a bartender who got a quiet word from Valarr three minutes ago. You'll look at him across the room and he'll be mid-conversation with someone important, not looking at you, but the corner of his mouth will be doing that thing. That barely-there curve. Caught me.
He tastes your drink sometimes. Not to check it (or maybe to check it, you can never tell with him) but because he likes the intimacy of your mouth on the rim and then his. He does it without asking, takes a sip, sets it back down, and you stopped objecting in month two because the way he does it is so natural it feels like you've been sharing glasses your whole life.
The thing you don't realise until much later is that Valarr has never once let you finish a drink you didn't watch get poured. Not once. You don't notice because he never says anything, never makes it a conversation. He just... manages it. If you come back to a glass that's been sitting unwatched too long, a fresh one appears and the old one vanishes and he's already moved on.
You pieced it together at a benefit in year two, when you set your champagne down, got pulled into a twenty-minute conversation with his uncle, came back, and the glass on the table was full but the condensation was wrong. Fresh, not warmed. He'd swapped it. He'd been across the room the entire time. You looked at him and he looked back at you with an expression that said nothing and everything: I'm always, always paying attention. And I'll always, always keep you safe.
tt!aerion
Aerion's version of watching your drink is standing in front of it with his body like a wall and glaring at anyone who comes within three feet. Subtle, he's not. He's got the posture of a man who's been in enough bars to know exactly how easy it is to drop something into an unattended glass, and the protectiveness that comes off him in these moments isn't tender. It's territorial. It's the energy of a dog standing over a bowl and growling.
You went to the bathroom once at some dive off the county road and when you came back, a guy was chatting up the space where you'd been sitting. Your drink was in Aerion's hand. He'd picked it up the moment you stood, hadn't set it down since, and when the guy glanced at the glass and then at Aerion, whatever he saw in Aerion's face ended the conversation without a word being exchanged.
He doesn't get you refills. He's not Valarr; he's not anticipating your needs three moves ahead like a chess game. But if you say "I'm empty," he'll take your glass, go to the bar, and come back with exactly what you were having without asking what it was. Because he knows. He always knows what you're drinking, what you're wearing, what you're feeling, because Aerion's attention (when it's fixed on you) is total and consuming, borderline terrifying in its precision. Even if he couldn't articulate a single one of those observations if you put a gun to his head.
Once, at a bonfire at one of the crew's places, you were drinking cheap beer and you left it on a cooler and he picked it up and held it against his thigh, two fingers hooked in the neck of the bottle, and drank from his own beer with the other hand. Just standing there, loose-hipped, watching the fire, holding your beer and his. When you came back and reached for it, his fingers brushed the inside of your wrist as he passed it over, and the look he gave you (brief, hot, proprietary) said I had it. It was mine while you were gone. Like everything else of yours.
He drinks from your glass. Constantly. Doesn't ask. You'll be mid-sentence, gesturing with one hand, and he'll reach over and take your drink and sip from it and set it back down like it's his. The first time you said, "That's mine," and he looked at you, dead-eyed, and said, "And?" — and you didn't have a response because the and was the whole point. He doesn't want his own. He wants yours. He wants the taste of your lipstick on the rim and the knowledge that his mouth is where yours just was. He wants to consume the evidence of you. To have you in his mouth, constantly. He'd drink the dregs of your coffee from the morning if you left it on the counter and he'll never, ever admit that to anyone, including himself.
There's also this: he once smacked a drink out of a guy's hand when the guy tried to pass you something at a house party. Didn't explain. Didn't apologise. Just smack, beer on the floor, Aerion's hand already at the small of your back steering you elsewhere. You said, "I'm not a child." He said, "No. You're mine. Worse." And you hated how much that curled around your heart like a fist.
letting you put makeup on them
gdgw!valarr
The first time, you're getting ready for something (one of those Targaryen fundraisers his family throws every quarter) and he's sitting on the bathroom counter watching you do your makeup because watching you do anything is, at this point, one of his preferred activities. You're blending something at your cheekbone and you catch his eye in the mirror and you get the impulse the way you get all your impulses with him: sudden, certain, a little mean.
"Come here. Sit still."
Valarr sits still. He sits so still you'd think he'd been trained for it, which (in a way) he has. By you. He closes his eyes when you tell him to. His lashes are long and dark and they fan across his cheekbone and you take a moment to just look at him. This absurd man. This beautiful, controlled creature who's given you the keys to every locked room inside him and is currently sitting on imported marble with his eyes shut and his chin tilted up and his whole body saying do whatever you want to me.
You put concealer under his eyes, because he's been sleeping badly and you can see it. You dust something sheer and luminous across his cheekbones. You line his eyes (just a little, just enough) and the brown eye and the blue eye stare back at you from beneath the wing you've drawn and you feel your breath catch because he looks devastating. He looks like a painting. He looks like something that should be behind glass.
He looks in the mirror and studies himself with that quiet, cataloguing focus. He doesn't laugh, doesn't deflect. "You're good at this," he says genuinely.
"I know."
He doesn't wash it off before the event. He walks into that fundraiser with your eyeliner on and your lipstick kiss at his jaw and dares anyone alive to say a word about it. No one does. He gets three compliments from women who think he's wearing it ironically. He's not wearing it ironically. He's wearing it because you put it on him and he would wear anything you put on him, anywhere, in front of anyone.
It becomes a thing. Not every time, but sometimes. You'll be doing your face and he'll settle in next to you, expectant, offering his face like a canvas. It's worship in a language he's fluent in by now: use me, shape me, make me yours in a way everyone can see.
He buys you a specific brush set (Valyrian steel handles, because he's Valarr and even your makeup tools have to be investment-grade) and you find them in the bathroom one morning without comment, without note, just slotted into the holder next to your existing ones. You use them on him that night. The bristles are obscenely soft. He watches you unbox them with that quiet, satisfied look he gets when a project has been executed to his exact specifications. The project, in this case, is you having everything you need to do this to him whenever you want.
He has a favourite. He'll never say so, but you know. It's the moment right before you start. When you've told him to close his eyes and he has, and your hand is at his jaw, tilting him toward the light, and he's just waiting. Open. Trusting. The lashes against his cheekbones. The white streak bright at his temple. The whole gorgeous shape of him gone still beneath your fingers. He likes the before more than the product. He likes being held in the moment of your intention.
tt!aerion
Absolutely not. Absolutely fucking not. That is his position and he holds it for approximately ninety seconds!
You're sitting cross-legged on his bed (the sheets smell like cigarettes and laundry detergent) and you're doing your eyes in a compact mirror because his bathroom light is busted and you've learned not to ask when things around here will get fixed. He's behind you, shirtless, the faded dragon tattoo stretching across his ribs, and he's watching you with that lizard-still focus he gets sometimes. You can feel his eyes on the back of your neck like a heat lamp.
"Stop staring."
"What? Lookin' a crime now?"
You turn around. You watch him for a beat. Then hold up the eyeliner pencil. His eyes narrow. "No."
"One eye."
"Absolutely not."
"Scared?"
That's the word that does it, every time. You have identified and weaponised his inability to back down from a challenge and you deploy it without mercy. Aerion's jaw goes tight. His nostrils flare. You watch the war happen behind his eyes. Pride versus the fact that telling you no about something this inconsequential means admitting it threatens him, which it can't, because nothing threatens him, because he's Aerion—
"Fine. One eye. You tell anyone and I'll—"
"You'll what?"
He doesn't finish the threat. He sits in front of you and his knee is bouncing and his hands are fists on his thighs and he looks like a man about to get a tattoo he's already regretting. You cradle his jaw and he goes still. That specific, held-breath still he does when you touch his face, the one he can't control, the one that tells you everything he won't. You line his left eye, slow and careful.
The sound he makes when you blow gently on the lid to dry it is obscene. Low, involuntary, caught in the back of his throat. His hands come up to your hips, automatic, grabbing, and you push them back down. "I said sit still."
He sits still. He's breathing through his mouth. You're aware (fully, viscerally, in a way that makes your own pulse kick) that this is doing something to him that has nothing to do with makeup and everything to do with you touching his face and telling him what to do and him letting you.
You do the other eye because he doesn't stop you. You do his mouth (just a stain, something sheer and dark) because he really doesn't stop you, and by the time you're done his pupils are blown and his breathing is ragged and he looks wrecked. Not pretty the way Valarr looks pretty. Feral. Mouth bitten-dark, eyes sharp and lined, platinum hair falling across the kohl like a knife's edge.
He looks in the compact mirror. He doesn't say anything for a long time.
Then: "I look like a fucking dragon."
"You look like my dragon."
The sound he makes at that (half-growl, pleased) ends with your back on the mattress and his lined eyes above you and neither of you makes it out of the apartment for another two hours.
He washes it off afterwards, roughly, with hand soap and a washcloth. But the stain stays at the corners of his eyes for the rest of the night and he doesn't try very hard to get it, and when one of his crew asks the next morning if he's got a black eye, Aerion smiles (slow, private, dangerous) and drawls, "Something like that."
The second time, you don't have to say scared. You're getting ready at his place again and you pull out the eyeliner and he just sits down. Doesn't say a word. Sets his jaw, puts his hands on his thighs, stares straight ahead like a man awaiting sentencing. You don't comment on it. You know better. You just tilt his chin up with two fingers and start, and his eyes flutter shut on their own this time, and the breath he lets out is long and shaking and you file it somewhere deep and permanent in you: he wants this. He wants this and he'll never ask for it and he'll let you take it from him only if you never, ever make him say so.
He will deny this to his grave. If you ever brought it up outside that room (even vaguely, even as a joke) something behind his eyes would close and it would take weeks to get back in. This is the contract. You can do this to him. You cannot talk about it. You can line his eyes and paint his mouth and turn him into something beautiful and dangerous under your hands. But it lives only in the space between his sheets and your fingers, and the price of entry is silence.
I will vote for any candidate who promises to go scorched fucking earth on every tech company. Break every single one of them up into companies based around a single product and then split those in thirds. Weaponize existing antitrust laws to the hilt and pass the most draconian versions of them ever seen on this planet. Nationalize google search specifically. Pass consumer privacy protections strict enough to kill the data harvesting industry for good. Make all of these fuckers go bankrupt for this rent-seeking shit
went to the full keynote video for direct information, stick with me while i first include a transcript of what is said (starting 43 minutes in if you want to see the visuals they provide) and then get into my interpretation of the functionality compared to how google search currently already works.
it's bad but I want to encourage people to read along and interpret it in more depth than the article above.
I will be skipping sections (indicated with [...] ) due to things such as when the speakers present hypothetical scenarios, repeat previous products, to cut out marketing flourishes of language, or at my own discretion for focus on the topic at hand. feel free to go to the source yourselves if you want to hear what i cut
transcript of the relevant section:
[...]-we've been on a journey to bring together the best of a search engine with the best of AI. [...] with AI Overview. [...] last year on this stage that we launched AI Mode. It's our most powerful AI Search, bringing in our most advanced Gemini models.
And as of today, we're upgrading it on Gemini 3.5.
[...]
And now, we're entering the next chapter of Google Search, where [...] AI features aren't just in Search; Google Search is AI Search through and through.
[...], it's an AI Search that brings to figure out our most advanced Gemini models, our newest agentic capabilities, and the full breadth of the world's information. [...]
Now, to start, I'm excited to announce we're launching a brand-new intelligent Search box.
Before, the Search box was a contained space, but now, it's totally reimagined with AI. [...]
As you ask, Search helps you formulate your question with AI-powered suggestions.
This goes beyond autocomplete. It offers nuances that you might not have even thought to add, helping you take the exact question on your mind and ask it with ease.
[...] And you can ask across modalities with text, images, files, and videos, and Search reasons across them all. This is the biggest upgrade to our iconic Search box since its debut over 25 years ago. And it's starting to roll out today.
[...], bringing AI Overviews and AI Mode into one seamless AI Search experience. You can float effortlessly from your question to your response on the main Search results page, to follow-ups in AI Mode. Your context stays with you and your conversation gets deeper.
Your links and sources get even more relevant to what you might want to explore, so you continue to get the best of AI and the best of the Web.
[...] this new seamless AI Search experience is live today, across desktop and mobile worldwide.
[...] you'll be able to create and manage multiple AI agents for your many tasks, right in Search.
We're entering the era of Search agents. Now to start, you can set information agents to work for you 24/7 in the background. They can find you exactly what you need, exactly when you need it, and help you take action. You can spin up multiple agents in Search simultaneously, [...]
And these will work with and alongside Gemini Spark to help you get more done, [...]
[...]
your agent sends you an intelligent and synthesized update. It helps you understand what's going on so you can separate the signal from the noise. And it points you to hyper-relevant content, like this crowdsourced research platform, news site and social.
This helps websites and creators get fresh content discovered by people who really care about it, when it matters most to them.[...] your agent continuously scans the entire web, across sites, social, and forums. [...] And it monitors everything from blogs to our Shopping Graph so you don't miss out. You'll be able to put information agents to work for you this summer.
Just ask Search to keep you updated on whatever you want to know.
[...], information agents are among the first of many agents we're introducing in Search to make it more helpful for you.
so what is my understanding of this roll out?
first of all it appears to be less of a replacement for traditional search and more just shoving sentence suggestions and tool prompts into your field of view to nudge you towards searching queries completely within their ai mode, nothing in the presentation directly stated that regular search results would be going away, i feel like while criticising what they are doing we should avoid criticising something they didn't actually do.
Let me talk about existing google features I think it is just reworking:
image/file upload search, google lens, the various search filter tabs you can already see under the search bar, advanced filter/search tools, google alerts, it's already existing AI mode, already existing agents and gen-ai features
a LOT of what this 25 minute section of video discussed is just updates of existing google products that are then mashed together to encourage a multimedia interaction.
the use case they repeatedly present is a person speaks or types the beginning of a thought, selects a predicted autofil end to their sentence, and is presented with with a series of interactive results with the option to make real world purchases completely within their interface environment. the end goal appears to be just pushing the virtual assistant angle to do the work for you and prevent you from navigating away even to create purchases, multimedia, or receive information.
the actual beneficial part of the update is they have somewhat streamlined including multiple elements to your actual search queries, for example you could always upload an image to search and then add text key terms to refine the results- but now you can add videos and files as well so there can be multiple sources to search with. however this is not that different to how many gen-ai chatbots already function.
essentially it looks like if you want to do a traditional web search that won't change but there will be an intrusive chatbot element because like a lot of companies they want to lock you into their environment and act as middlemen for your online interactions.
yes this is another attempt to convince you you NEED ai to do things people have been doing online for 33 years, including 5 years where google didn't even exist yet. yes in addition to attempting to justify ai it is also one of many ways they normalise data harvesting users. yes it is just repackaging multiple features already provided and when you actually look at what's new it amounts to some refinement updates and incorporating everything into one location. yes it will have a negative impact on both websites that rely on SEO and users who are babied into handing over their autonomy and decision making to software they don't understand and have to trust the reliability of.
no it is not getting rid of traditional web search functionality. everyone please relax a little on that specific matter. continuing to use that functionality and ignoring or blocking the ai elements (i block google ai overviews in search results using ublock) is already a small statement you can make
try using other search engines like Duckduckgo, Ecosia, Brave Search, or StartPage. you don't have to do all your online searches in one location, and different engines have different upsides (i find so many movies via duckduckgo) so get out of any one virtual environment if you can.
OP: Not every northerner in China knows how to steam mantou/steamed buns.
OP posted her homemade mantou saying she doesn't plan to take any apprentices. And Chinese netizens rushed to share theirs too. (cr 猫猫的毛线球)
Cnetizens:
Ohter Cnetizens:
These are all successful cases.⬇️
Some steamed buns are just beyond definition, impossible to tell if they're hits or misses.
BTW huajuan花卷 (flower rolls) are layered and twisted variants derived from mantou. They are rolled up, and various sweet or savory fillings can be added between the layers. The traditional flavor is salty with scallion aroma. Some people prefer flavorful huajuan, while others favor the pure grain aroma and simple texture of plain mantou.
The Tricks of Basil Seeds (I just wanted to get this out of my head so enjoy)
Qingying was confused. She had been summoned to Yangxin Hall and had no idea what to expect. When she came in, she found that his majesty was there along with the Empress Dowager and the Empress. She bowed and greeted them in turn, trying to hide her nerves. She had perhaps expected either the Dowager or the Empress, but certainly not the both at once. Qingying was not stupid, she was aware that neither woman liked her. Whatever had gone on between the Dowager and her aunt had soured her attitude towards Qingying for the foreseeable future. Qingying could not say that she truly understood. Qingying was not the person who had done those things, whatever they might have been; so why did Qingying now have to pay for it?
Qingying could, however, understand why the Empress would dislike her. Qingying had been brash and all but flouted the rules the day of Hongli’s bride selection. The scepter had almost gone into Fucha Langua’s hands in front of everyone. Yes, Qingying had been teasing and testing Hongli, but in the process Fucha Langhua was very nearly humiliated. If not for the late emperor’s arrival and subsequent cancellation of the selection, as well as Qingying’s own loss of face, that humiliation would have perhaps followed Fucha Langhua for the rest of her days. Her own impetuousness had harmed someone else. That, Qingying could understand.
What she still did not understand was why she had been summoned here.
“Qingying, sit.”
“Thank you, your majesty.”
His majesty calmly drank tea while the Empress tried and failed to hide her discomfort. The empress dowager looked low-spirited but otherwise calm. When his majesty put the cup down, he turned to look at Qingying. His eyes were different, just as they had been the morning that the late emperor left the world, kind but haunted. Whatever he had dreamt that night must still have shaken him, along with the grief of losing his royal father, Qingying had surmised.
“Qingying, I have decided to have your aunt be moved to a temporary imperial residence.”
Before Qingying could bow in thanks or even process her surprise, the Empress Dowager’s prayer beads slammed onto the table.
“Huangdi!”
“Huang E’Niang, you and Muhou have been at odds for many years, the late emperor’s decree has already been fulfilled. It is better that Muhou lives far enough away that neither of you will have to fight anymore, and there can be peace in the harem.”
The Dowager did not look pleased, but there was nothing she could say to that. Carefully, Qingying stood from her seat and bowed to give thanks.
“Your concubine thanks you on behalf of my aunt,” she said.
She was not immediately relieved from her bow and remained completely still as he stood up.
“There is still another reason. I do not wish for scheming and fighting to enter the palace,” he said.
He was right in front of her. Unperturbed, she only looked up when she felt a hand on her wrist.
“Get up.”
She stood quickly, then felt her sleeve being pulled back.
“Qingying, you remember when you received this bracelet, don’t you?”
“Yes, your majesty. Her highness gave it to me the day I entered the manor as second madam,” Qingying replied, confusion coloring her face and voice.
“And you’ve not removed it since?”
“No, your majesty.”
Qingying was curious. What could his majesty mean? Then, with one deft motion, the bracelet was removed from her wrist. She tried not to shift back from being startled by the movement.
“Your majesty?”
His majesty did not explain, he only examined the inner side of the bracelet. After a few moments, he took a small knife and he pried it open. He overturned, shook it once, twice, and small things poured out of it.
“What is that?” Qingying asked.
“If I am right, these are basil seeds,” his majesty replied, sounding… angry. “Qi Ru!”
From behind a screen, Qi Ru appeared. He bowed, greeting them one by one then checked the pips that had fallen from the bracelet. According to Qi Ru, they were, indeed, basil seeds.
“Your majesty, the presence of these seeds…”
“Speak.”
“They harm a woman’s fertility, I fear.”
Qingying felt her heart break. For six years she had silently wondered why she had yet to have a child, despite his majesty regularly lavishing her with his attentions. For six years she had prayed, cried, and had even begun to think something was terribly wrong with her. She looked down at those basil seeds; she didn’t sob, she refused to let tears fall. She couldn’t look anywhere else, she couldn’t bring herself to look at the empress.
She could understand being disliked, but she could not understand this. If the roles had been reversed, Qingying could never imagine doing something so… cruel. Qingying heard his majesty’s voice, but it sounded far away, as if Qingying was under water. The world shifted around her, but it didn’t really come into view until she heard her name again.
“Qingying?”
Those eyes, those caring, haunted eyes; warm and familiar lifted Qingying out from the water. She took in a soft, sudden breath as though she really had brought her head above water after too long below the waves. Qingying didn't dare look anywhere else except for the emperor. If she did, then she would surely—
She felt gentle, familiar fingers on her face, brushing something from her cheek.
Oh. She was already crying.
Qingying felt as though she was no longer in her body when she sat down. She heard Doctor Qi asking to examine her hand and she offered up her pulse, not quite able to feel anything. All she could do was look ahead, too shaken to really speak. She heard nothing that made sense, her health being otherwise fine, but her fertility would likely still be affected due to the exposure.
“So long as her highness guards her health well, she may still have a child.”
“Good. Li Yu, get rid of these things.”
“Yes, your majesty.”
Qingying finally began to comprehend what she was hearing and looked at the emperor, trying to stop her tears.
“Qingying, do not worry,” he said softly. “I will send the doctors to look after you, all you need to do is go and rest. I will deal with the rest.”
Her heart was soothed, hearing those words. She bowed and took her leave, not looking at anyone else. As she got into the sedan, she ignored A’Ruo’s angry words and only idly reminded her to mind her tongue. A’Ruo was voicing a bitterness Qingying wasn’t sure a human person was capable of—
No, Qingying thought. A human person was very capable of such viciousness.
It was only after she returned to the Prince’s Manor that she realized something. Instead of returning to her room, Qingying went to Second Madam Gao’s quarters. Moxin did not look pleased to see them, and neither did her mistress. Still, Qingying was allowed in.
Qingying had not been fond of Xiyue, nor had she ever been particularly unhappy about her either. Xiyue was a very talented but silly girl. But she had also married into the Prince’s household the same day that Qingying had. She had also been given a bracelet that had matched Qingying’s; if she was right…
“Second Madam, what brings you here?” Xiyue asked.
“Just now, his majesty called me into Yangxin Hall. His majesty had discovered that basil seeds were hidden in the bracelet that her highness the empress gave to me the day we entered the manor. I am concerned that the same trick has been used on you, so I came to tell you.”
“Basil seeds?”
“Yes, Qi Ru was present and said that they harm a woman’s fertility.”
Xiyue made a squawking sound of disbelief.
“What manner of trick is this!” she yelled, standing up. “Lady Ula-Nara, don’t you dare try to throw dirty water on her highness.”
“Second Madam Gao, if you do not believe me, you can take your grievances to his majesty or the Empress Dowager,” Qingying explained, her eyes beginning to sting all over again. “Her highness the Empress Dowager was also there when the basil seeds were removed. I take my leave.”
Qingying didn’t overstay and returned to her own rooms quietly. If Xiyue was unwilling to listen to her, then hopefully she would listen to his majesty.
“Mistress, are you sure that was the right thing to do?” A’Ruo asked.
“Out of us three who entered the Prince’s Manor first, only one of us has had children. Meanwhile, Second Madam Gao and I have prayed and drunk every manner of fertility concoctions and have nothing to show for it,” Qingying explained, trying to regain full control of herself. Even if Second Madam Gao hates me, I cannot knowingly let her suffer.”
“But what if Second Madam Gao has no basil seeds in her bracelet at all? She may accuse you of lying.”
“A’Ruo, nothing I said was an accusation of her highness. I only spoke the truth and nothing more.”
“And if she has no basil seeds in her bracelet after all?”
“Then it will be all Second Madam’s misfortune not to have had I any children until now,” Qingying lamented quietly.
-.-.-
Xiyue stared at the mirror as she readied herself for bed, then glared down at the bracelet. It was a token of sisterhood, not some scheme. Still, when she thought back to all the days that her highness had reassured her that she would one day have a child, she felt her stomach turn. She took off the bracelet. She examined it carefully. It seemed fine. She even shook it for good measure and it made no odd sounds. She was tempted to put it back on and forget the whole thing, but something made her stop. Second Madam’s face when she mentioned the basil seeds…
Xiyue reached for one of her hairpins and began poking at the underside. To her utter surprise, a panel popped open. With mounting dread, she overturned it and shook it; and felt her stomach turn as dark pips rolled out onto her dressing table and off to the floor. Xiyue had never taken that bracelet off since the day she had arrived.
For the second time that day, Xiyue burst into tears.
The Tricks of Basil Seeds (I just wanted to get this out of my head so enjoy)
Qingying was confused. She had been summoned to Yangxin Hall and had no idea what to expect. When she came in, she found that his majesty was there along with the Empress Dowager and the Empress. She bowed and greeted them in turn, trying to hide her nerves. She had perhaps expected either the Dowager or the Empress, but certainly not the both at once. Qingying was not stupid, she was aware that neither woman liked her. Whatever had gone on between the Dowager and her aunt had soured her attitude towards Qingying for the foreseeable future. Qingying could not say that she truly understood. Qingying was not the person who had done those things, whatever they might have been; so why did Qingying now have to pay for it?
Qingying could, however, understand why the Empress would dislike her. Qingying had been brash and all but flouted the rules the day of Hongli’s bride selection. The scepter had almost gone into Fucha Langua’s hands in front of everyone. Yes, Qingying had been teasing and testing Hongli, but in the process Fucha Langhua was very nearly humiliated. If not for the late emperor’s arrival and subsequent cancellation of the selection, as well as Qingying’s own loss of face, that humiliation would have perhaps followed Fucha Langhua for the rest of her days. Her own impetuousness had harmed someone else. That, Qingying could understand.
What she still did not understand was why she had been summoned here.
“Qingying, sit.”
“Thank you, your majesty.”
His majesty calmly drank tea while the Empress tried and failed to hide her discomfort. The empress dowager looked low-spirited but otherwise calm. When his majesty put the cup down, he turned to look at Qingying. His eyes were different, just as they had been the morning that the late emperor left the world, kind but haunted. Whatever he had dreamt that night must still have shaken him, along with the grief of losing his royal father, Qingying had surmised.
“Qingying, I have decided to have your aunt be moved to a temporary imperial residence.”
Before Qingying could bow in thanks or even process her surprise, the Empress Dowager’s prayer beads slammed onto the table.
“Huangdi!”
“Huang E’Niang, you and Muhou have been at odds for many years, the late emperor’s decree has already been fulfilled. It is better that Muhou lives far enough away that neither of you will have to fight anymore, and there can be peace in the harem.”
The Dowager did not look pleased, but there was nothing she could say to that. Carefully, Qingying stood from her seat and bowed to give thanks.
“Your concubine thanks you on behalf of my aunt,” she said.
She was not immediately relieved from her bow and remained completely still as he stood up.
“There is still another reason. I do not wish for scheming and fighting to enter the palace,” he said.
He was right in front of her. Unperturbed, she only looked up when she felt a hand on her wrist.
“Get up.”
She stood quickly, then felt her sleeve being pulled back.
“Qingying, you remember when you received this bracelet, don’t you?”
“Yes, your majesty. Her highness gave it to me the day I entered the manor as second madam,” Qingying replied, confusion coloring her face and voice.
“And you’ve not removed it since?”
“No, your majesty.”
Qingying was curious. What could his majesty mean? Then, with one deft motion, the bracelet was removed from her wrist. She tried not to shift back from being startled by the movement.
“Your majesty?”
His majesty did not explain, he only examined the inner side of the bracelet. After a few moments, he took a small knife and he pried it open. He overturned, shook it once, twice, and small things poured out of it.
“What is that?” Qingying asked.
“If I am right, these are basil seeds,” his majesty replied, sounding… angry. “Qi Ru!”
From behind a screen, Qi Ru appeared. He bowed, greeting them one by one then checked the pips that had fallen from the bracelet. According to Qi Ru, they were, indeed, basil seeds.
“Your majesty, the presence of these seeds…”
“Speak.”
“They harm a woman’s fertility, I fear.”
Qingying felt her heart break. For six years she had silently wondered why she had yet to have a child, despite his majesty regularly lavishing her with his attentions. For six years she had prayed, cried, and had even begun to think something was terribly wrong with her. She looked down at those basil seeds; she didn’t sob, she refused to let tears fall. She couldn’t look anywhere else, she couldn’t bring herself to look at the empress.
She could understand being disliked, but she could not understand this. If the roles had been reversed, Qingying could never imagine doing something so… cruel. Qingying heard his majesty’s voice, but it sounded far away, as if Qingying was under water. The world shifted around her, but it didn’t really come into view until she heard her name again.
“Qingying?”
Those eyes, those caring, haunted eyes; warm and familiar lifted Qingying out from the water. She took in a soft, sudden breath as though she really had brought her head above water after too long below the waves. Qingying didn't dare look anywhere else except for the emperor. If she did, then she would surely—
She felt gentle, familiar fingers on her face, brushing something from her cheek.
Oh. She was already crying.
Qingying felt as though she was no longer in her body when she sat down. She heard Doctor Qi asking to examine her hand and she offered up her pulse, not quite able to feel anything. All she could do was look ahead, too shaken to really speak. She heard nothing that made sense, her health being otherwise fine, but her fertility would likely still be affected due to the exposure.
“So long as her highness guards her health well, she may still have a child.”
“Good. Li Yu, get rid of these things.”
“Yes, your majesty.”
Qingying finally began to comprehend what she was hearing and looked at the emperor, trying to stop her tears.
“Qingying, do not worry,” he said softly. “I will send the doctors to look after you, all you need to do is go and rest. I will deal with the rest.”
Her heart was soothed, hearing those words. She bowed and took her leave, not looking at anyone else. As she got into the sedan, she ignored A’Ruo’s angry words and only idly reminded her to mind her tongue. A’Ruo was voicing a bitterness Qingying wasn’t sure a human person was capable of—
No, Qingying thought. A human person was very capable of such viciousness.
It was only after she returned to the Prince’s Manor that she realized something. Instead of returning to her room, Qingying went to Second Madam Gao’s quarters. Moxin did not look pleased to see them, and neither did her mistress. Still, Qingying was allowed in.
Qingying had not been fond of Xiyue, nor had she ever been particularly unhappy about her either. Xiyue was a very talented but silly girl. But she had also married into the Prince’s household the same day that Qingying had. She had also been given a bracelet that had matched Qingying’s; if she was right…
“Second Madam, what brings you here?” Xiyue asked.
“Just now, his majesty called me into Yangxin Hall. His majesty had discovered that basil seeds were hidden in the bracelet that her highness the empress gave to me the day we entered the manor. I am concerned that the same trick has been used on you, so I came to tell you.”
“Basil seeds?”
“Yes, Qi Ru was present and said that they harm a woman’s fertility.”
Xiyue made a squawking sound of disbelief.
“What manner of trick is this!” she yelled, standing up. “Lady Ula-Nara, don’t you dare try to throw dirty water on her highness.”
“Second Madam Gao, if you do not believe me, you can take your grievances to his majesty or the Empress Dowager,” Qingying explained, her eyes beginning to sting all over again. “Her highness the Empress Dowager was also there when the basil seeds were removed. I take my leave.”
Qingying didn’t overstay and returned to her own rooms quietly. If Xiyue was unwilling to listen to her, then hopefully she would listen to his majesty.
“Mistress, are you sure that was the right thing to do?” A’Ruo asked.
“Out of us three who entered the Prince’s Manor first, only one of us has had children. Meanwhile, Second Madam Gao and I have prayed and drunk every manner of fertility concoctions and have nothing to show for it,” Qingying explained, trying to regain full control of herself. Even if Second Madam Gao hates me, I cannot knowingly let her suffer.”
“But what if Second Madam Gao has no basil seeds in her bracelet at all? She may accuse you of lying.”
“A’Ruo, nothing I said was an accusation of her highness. I only spoke the truth and nothing more.”
“And if she has no basil seeds in her bracelet after all?”
“Then it will be all Second Madam’s misfortune not to have had I any children until now,” Qingying lamented quietly.
-.-.-
Xiyue stared at the mirror as she readied herself for bed, then glared down at the bracelet. It was a token of sisterhood, not some scheme. Still, when she thought back to all the days that her highness had reassured her that she would one day have a child, she felt her stomach turn. She took off the bracelet. She examined it carefully. It seemed fine. She even shook it for good measure and it made no odd sounds. She was tempted to put it back on and forget the whole thing, but something made her stop. Second Madam’s face when she mentioned the basil seeds…
Xiyue reached for one of her hairpins and began poking at the underside. To her utter surprise, a panel popped open. With mounting dread, she overturned it and shook it; and felt her stomach turn as dark pips rolled out onto her dressing table and off to the floor. Xiyue had never taken that bracelet off since the day she had arrived.
For the second time that day, Xiyue burst into tears.
here is a master list of great art tools that can make your workflow easier! 👇 (updating, please consider supporting me on kofi or check out my other works)
posemaniacs.com/en
if you want to learn human anatomy with the benefit of preset poses, this is for you! you can use it standalone, but as a bonus you can also import poses into the clip studio paint 3D models. (File -> Import -> 3D Pose (Posemaniacs)
here is a master list of great art tools that can make your workflow easier! 👇 (updating, please consider supporting me on kofi or check out my other works)
posemaniacs.com/en
if you want to learn human anatomy with the benefit of preset poses, this is for you! you can use it standalone, but as a bonus you can also import poses into the clip studio paint 3D models. (File -> Import -> 3D Pose (Posemaniacs)
Okay so I found the most incredible horse statue while doing research for my job and guys. Are you ready for this. Are you sure you're fucking ready for this thing
