slippersofglass asked: That tumblr dating this is spam. I got one in my submits and ask thing too.

The last message I got in here was spam, too… I wonder what they want?

Anonymous asked: Have you done tumblrdatinggame(.)com yet?

…I don’t… What?

mysterious-dark-side-of-the-moon:

blossomofthebattlefield:

mysterious-dark-side-of-the-moon:

“Dear Mulan, I am sorry for being so busy as of late.”

Shang raised an eyebrow at the awkward phrasing of his letter and sighed in frustration. “Busy” wasn’t really the right way to phrase it. If he looked more closely at himself, he would recognize that he was avoiding Mulan, of all things. Ever since that stilted first day between them, he had flooded any conversation with excuses of needing to work. And the work was there, that much was true, but there was no need to be a brute about everything.

He couldn’t remember things ever being this difficult before. They used to be able to finish each other’s sentences, and now he could barely read what was going on her mind. This had to end somewhere.

Crumpling up the parchment, not heeding the ink that stained his hands, he stood resolutely. He had never been one to express himself through a letter. Right now, he was going to seek Mulan out and apologize properly.

Meanwhile, back in the small house they had taken as part of the much larger Li estate, a ceramic teapot began to shake over the open fireplace, shrieking as the water rose to a boil.

Mulan let out a soft, but sharp “Aiyah!” as she hurried over to make sure the water didn’t overflow and put out the fire again.

She let out a small hiss of pain as her hand came into contact with the teapot - she’d been getting a lot of careless burns as of late - but managed to hold on to it long enough to set it on the nearest surface, stuff some tea leaves into the pot, and let it steep for 40 minutes.

Mulan brought the mildly burned finger to her mouth and sighed, disappointed that her saliva wasn’t cool enough to soothe the pain. She was disappointed, yet she had almost expected that outcome.

She forced herself out of the house, not even wanting to relate that little moment to her problem with Shang. She was done torturing herself with all these extended metaphors.

She quickly made her way to the stables, her goal in mind being to find Khan, and, if possible, Mushu, though he was almost never there anymore (not that she could blame him, being a guardian and all, but he was her friend too and darnit she needed the company). She ignored the concerned, and sometimes disapproving glances of the servants and other various residents of the estate, and only focused keeping her emotions in check until she was on Khan’s back, riding through the open fields out back.

Pour the tea to please your future in-laws. Mulan scoffed at the memory. If her mother-in-law could see her now, mussed-up and sweaty, tearing through to the other side of the estate to get even dirtier… She bit her lip and only ran faster. Her mother-in-law were allies at best, she couldn’t imagine what they were at worst.

She used her last bit of strength to fling the stable doors open, before collapsing onto Khan’s side. The loyal horse let out a worried whinny and nuzzled her gently with his nose.

Mulan gasped, realizing only then that she’d been crying the whole run there. She let out a bit of a growl, which furthered Khan’s worry and he nuzzled her closer into his side. How could she be so stupid? No wonder people had been staring! If the running hadn’t been enough, she must’ve looked like such a fool with the tears running down her cheeks.

Furiously, she swiped the tears away and mounted Khan without any warning. Not like Khan needed it. At the feeling of her weight on his bare back, Khan stormed out of the stable and into the fields, leaving behind the staleness of emotion, rushing in to the relief of the air on Mulan’s face, her short hair flying in a black streak behind her.

The tea was almost completely forgotten.

Shang wasn’t in any hurry as he headed for the small house that was set apart from the rest of the estate where he suspected she might be. It hadn’t escaped his notice that she wasn’t very comfortable with the servants and the fanfare that came with being a General’s wife. At the very least, he figured that she was more comfortable with Khan than with the crowds who wanted to meet China’s greatest hero.

Pausing before the door, he nervously tugged at his sleeves. He would just walk in and tell Mulan what had been going on in his mind. He’d apologize for abandoning her. Then…the rest would come naturally. He hoped.

He didn’t see her when he finally entered, but a teapot was resting on the table. Shang gathered two cups and poured the tea. After all, Mulan had probably just stepped out for a moment. Bringing the cup to his lips, he immediately spat out the lukewarm, bitter liquid. The leaves must have been steeping for quite a while already, too long for any semblance of good taste.

His brain clicked off the conclusions rapidly. The tea must have been sitting unattended for a while. Mulan was too good to let tea go to waste. Mulan definitely made the tea, because this was her teapot. Therefore, something had happened which made her leave suddenly, something important.

Dread pooled in his stomach as he leaped to his feet and tore through the rest of the small building, searching. When he still found no signs of her, he ran outside and nearly knocked over one of the servants. Forcing his voice to appear calm, he posed the question and was directed towards the stables.

As he walked briskly in that direction, he was mentally smacking his forehead. Of course Mulan would go there. She often went out for a ride to pass the time. Shang tried to calm down about the tea and the frustration that was mounting inside, but by the time he reached the stables he was already imagining the worst. 

It wouldn’t hurt to ride for a little, release some of the stress. He could care less about one botched pot of tea. He could always find Mulan and talk to her later. It wasn’t like she was in any real danger, and she was capable of protecting herself.

But everything else was forgotten when he rode out of the stables and immediately came upon a trail of hooves leading toward some fields. The only one on the estate who could ride fast enough to leave these tracks was Mulan. Urging his horse into a gallop, he followed after her. It wasn’t like he was worried about her safety. It wasn’t like she would get herself kidnapped, or ride into a hole and get thrown off her horse.

But all the same, he searched the horizon for any sign of his wife.

Time had no meaning out in the vastness of the mostly unadulterated land. All there was was forward, and right or left if necessary. Not back. Never back.

They rode in silence for some time - had it been five minutes or five hours? - until Khan finally stopped, firmly but gently.

Mulan crossed her arms. “You can’t be tired already, you’ve gone nights without stopping before.”

Khan turned to her and gave her the nearest horse equivalent of a reproachful glance.

“What?” Mulan snapped, a little put off by Khan’s attitude. Yes, he took direction well enough in war, but at home, it was almost like she was still a little girl to her. Of course, she would be, he had been her father’s best friend at a point in their lives, but really, what was going on with the horse?

Khan tilted his head in a direction that was past Mulan, so she had to twist around to see Shang riding in, coming closer.

Mulan turned back to Khan, arms still crossed. “Yeah? So?”

Khan whinnied at her with a tone that she couldn’t quite figure out.

Mulan raised an eyebrow at her horse. “Are you trying to fix my marriage or something?”

She could’ve sworn that horse’s mouth turned up into a knowing smirk.

Mulan shook her head at the animal. “I swear, all these non-humans will be the death of me.” As Khan nickered (or was it a laugh?), Mulan mounted off of him, held on to the reigns, and waited for the nearing figure to stop so they could sort out…whatever.

slippersofglass:

blossomofthebattlefield:

slippersofglass:

blossomofthebattlefield:

The fire grew in retaliation to Mulan’s poking at it, which caused her to leap back till it settled to a nice, constant glow. Mulan set a teapot of water over it and went to prepare the tea leaves.

“I’ve been alright,” she sighed. “It’s been quiet, though. Domestic life is what every girl prepares for, sure, but it’s not exactly what I’m used to.” She forced out a chuckle, hoping not to seem so down. She couldn’t help but think that domestic life would have been much easier with someone to be domestic with.

A thought popped into her head. Of course, that’s what friends were for. Well, after husbands. They could pass the time together, and she’d finally be able to show someone around China at last.

Not that there was much to do in her village.

“Is there anywhere you’d like to go?” she asked, setting down her bowl of shredded leaves. “I’m sure some people in the village would like to meet you, though everyone’s a little awkward with foreigners at first. If you’d like to go sightseeing, Middle Kingdom is probably the best place for that, though it’s a ways away. What do you think?”

Cinderella watched Mulan with the fire. She remembered having to do that to make tea. It wasn’t that much different in China in relation to Europe. Making tea was just as painstaking. When was someone going to make it simpler?

Chuckling, Cinderella nodded, “I know how you feel.” She did know how it felt. Not that she had been prepared for royalty, but she had brought up as a slave to her family. Living domestically and suddenly thrust into a life she wasn’t used to. Even if it was royalty, it was different. You weren’t allowed to say or do certain things. She was even warned about coming out here, but she didn’t care. She wanted to see one of her best friends. 

“Well you can just show me around if you’d like.” Cinderella offered before informing her about her journey, “I did see some children and stopped on the way in.” She brushed out some of the wrinkles in her dress without thinking. 

“Anything you want, I have nothing planned. I would love to see this kingdom, though. It’s so similiar and yet so different!” She gushed. 

Mulan smiled at the mention of the children. “Ah, yes. They love visitors. I hope none of the little boys made fun of your hair? They can be silly, and I think they’re secretly jealous.” She smiled a little at some scattered memories of the village boys taunting and teasing every female they met, especially the ones their age. They would hopefully grow up soon.

A whistling sound from the pot grew shriller and shriller. Mulan swiftly removed the pot from the heat, set it on the table, and opened the pot a bit of thick cloth. Remembering the way her mother had taught her to so often as a young girl, Mulan stuffed the needed amount of shredded tealeaves into the pot before closing it and letting it steep.

“I figure we could just travel up to the city. It’s a bit busier there, but you won’t be bored. I think you’d like some of the shops near the palace,” she said with a grin. “Oh, and… Well, I know this is more of a personal trip than anything, but I’m sure the Emperor would love to meet you.” She set the teapot aside. “If it doesn’t sound too much like any royal duties you might not be so fond of. His daughters are very nice, too, and, well, their husbands…” She laughed at the thought of Ling, Yao, and Chien-Po only just managing to get by as “palace people”. “Their husbands are good men and great friends.”

Shaking her head, Cinderella touched her hair. “No, the boys were happy. I brought a few tin toys for them.” She paused brushing her fingers through her hair. “A few of the girls touched my hair. Not that I mind, I thought it was cute.” Cinderella loved children. She thought they were just as important as adults. Whenever children were in the castle with their parents, she paid special attention to them.

Cinderella watched as Mulan tea. The thoughts of waking up early every morning to brew tea for her stepmother and sisters flooded back. She hadn’t made tea in so long. Now, it was just served to her on a silver platter. She wasn’t the one doing the serving. She didn’t have to wait. It was odd to her.

“I’d love to see the city! Don’t worry about keeping me entertained. Boring me is hard to do.” She mused leaning forward on the table. “Oh, I’d love to meet him! I think Charming might have met him once on a trip, but I wasn’t with him. This is my first time to China actually.” She gave Mulan a small smile. “I’d love to meet everyone!”

Mulan smiled, an expectant chuckle rising from her throat. “Of course, toys and candy solve everything with the children.” She loved the village children, and (the girls, at least) loved her back, but she couldn’t quite call herself “good” with them. She wondered what it must be like, having children of her own…

Her attention snapped back to Cinderella. “Well, then, I bet they’d all love to meet you,” she grinned. Deciding the tea was finished brewing, she carefully poured it into two small tea cups and inhaled the familiar aroma with pleasure. “I’d have to change into something more Middle Kingdom-worthy, but other than that, I’m ready whenever you are.”

mysterious-dark-side-of-the-moon:

“Dear Mulan, I am sorry for being so busy as of late.”

Shang raised an eyebrow at the awkward phrasing of his letter and sighed in frustration. “Busy” wasn’t really the right way to phrase it. If he looked more closely at himself, he would recognize that he was avoiding Mulan, of all things. Ever since that stilted first day between them, he had flooded any conversation with excuses of needing to work. And the work was there, that much was true, but there was no need to be a brute about everything.

He couldn’t remember things ever being this difficult before. They used to be able to finish each other’s sentences, and now he could barely read what was going on her mind. This had to end somewhere.

Crumpling up the parchment, not heeding the ink that stained his hands, he stood resolutely. He had never been one to express himself through a letter. Right now, he was going to seek Mulan out and apologize properly.

Meanwhile, back in the small house they had taken as part of the much larger Li estate, a ceramic teapot began to shake over the open fireplace, shrieking as the water rose to a boil.

Mulan let out a soft, but sharp “Aiyah!” as she hurried over to make sure the water didn’t overflow and put out the fire again.

She let out a small hiss of pain as her hand came into contact with the teapot - she’d been getting a lot of careless burns as of late - but managed to hold on to it long enough to set it on the nearest surface, stuff some tea leaves into the pot, and let it steep for 40 minutes.

Mulan brought the mildly burned finger to her mouth and sighed, disappointed that her saliva wasn’t cool enough to soothe the pain. She was disappointed, yet she had almost expected that outcome.

She forced herself out of the house, not even wanting to relate that little moment to her problem with Shang. She was done torturing herself with all these extended metaphors.

She quickly made her way to the stables, her goal in mind being to find Khan, and, if possible, Mushu, though he was almost never there anymore (not that she could blame him, being a guardian and all, but he was her friend too and darnit she needed the company). She ignored the concerned, and sometimes disapproving glances of the servants and other various residents of the estate, and only focused keeping her emotions in check until she was on Khan’s back, riding through the open fields out back.

Pour the tea to please your future in-laws. Mulan scoffed at the memory. If her mother-in-law could see her now, mussed-up and sweaty, tearing through to the other side of the estate to get even dirtier… She bit her lip and only ran faster. Her mother-in-law were allies at best, she couldn’t imagine what they were at worst.

She used her last bit of strength to fling the stable doors open, before collapsing onto Khan’s side. The loyal horse let out a worried whinny and nuzzled her gently with his nose.

Mulan gasped, realizing only then that she’d been crying the whole run there. She let out a bit of a growl, which furthered Khan’s worry and he nuzzled her closer into his side. How could she be so stupid? No wonder people had been staring! If the running hadn’t been enough, she must’ve looked like such a fool with the tears running down her cheeks.

Furiously, she swiped the tears away and mounted Khan without any warning. Not like Khan needed it. At the feeling of her weight on his bare back, Khan stormed out of the stable and into the fields, leaving behind the staleness of emotion, rushing in to the relief of the air on Mulan’s face, her short hair flying in a black streak behind her.

The tea was almost completely forgotten.

Anonymous asked: are you planning to go see 'the beatles: the lost concert' film?

…I’m sorry, I have no idea what you’re talking about…

(via highkingpetermagnificent)

amostpeculiarmadamoiselle asked: Actually, I’m still living there. I promised I would stay forever.

Oh… Well, as long as you feel comfortable there, that’s good. You’ve at least seen your father, though, right?

taijavigilia:

This was a 44,444th pageview kiriban on deviantArt for IdentityCrisis01, brief was to draw hanboks (Korean traditional dresses) so for me that naturally became Princesses in hanboks. This was fun because the dresses are so gorgeous, I tried to keep them looking traditional while keeping each princess’s style.

Watercolour and fine marker.

(via slippersofglass)

fydisneymisfits:

Requested by jctpwc

(via keiliykuckoo)