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Take it all-

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Take it all-

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so sad, so sad

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Hanguang Jun - The Light Bearer.

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impatient for once.

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WANG YIBO as LAN WANGJI

THE UNTAMED (OFFICIAL PICTURES)

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Good indeed

“Don’t tell me you never had these,” Wei Ying said, his frown loud across his brow. “Lan Zhan! Every kid tries them.”

Lan Wangji gave a minute shrug. He never had many sweets as a child. There was one very memorable occasion when his mother made rice cakes; if pressed, Lan Wangji would categorise their flavour as pink. They were pink. And sweet, he supposed.

“Lan Zhan,” with the reproving tone. “You have to.”

Since there was no feasible way for Lan Wangji to refuse him, no matter how ridiculous the request, he picked up the sweet and placed it gingerly on his tongue. His eyes immediately watered at the attack.

“Good, isn’t it,” Wei Ying grinned, so pleased that Lan Wangji made himself chew and then swallow without a single hum of complaint. It was not that he disliked sweets, exactly. Simply that he was unaccustomed. He could come to like them, if Wei Ying willed it so.

“What else,” Wei Ying was muttering, tapping the bridge of his nose. “What else, what else?”

“Mn?” shamefully unfocused. It was only, the bridge of Wei Ying’s nose was a lovely place to rest his eyes; there were two freckles there that especially called to attention. It was sometimes quite difficult to have conversations with Wei Ying in the sunlight, where he shone; or under torchlight, where he was golden; or moonlight, where he glowed; or in the dark, where he was brilliant.

Oh. Wei Ying must have said something; the corners of his eyes crinkled with the smile. “What is it my husband is so busy thinking of, hmm?”

“You,” Lan Wangji answered, at once, honestly.  

“Yes, yes, that’s always your answer.”

Lan Wangji blinked in confusion. “It is the truth. I always think of you.”

“Lan Zhan!” with the flushing cheeks, impossibly lovely, “Why do you always have to,” and then he was in Lan Wangji’s arms, hiding his face in the crook of his neck, burrowing. The voice came out muffled: “Just, unbearable!”

“Mn,” Lan Wangji capitulated. He felt no particular remorse for the weight of his Wei Ying crushing the air out of him, or the scent, talisman paper and sweat and rain and rose-water, or the waving rolls of laughter he could still hear, choked-out and precious for how common they were. Wei Ying was so free with his laughter, generous with his joy. It was incomparable to anything Lan Wangji had ever met.

“We were talking about something else entirely!” Wei Ying emerged from the cocoon of Lan Wangji’s robes. “Trying to distract me with your handsome devil tricks—no longer, I am onto you!”

Lan Wangji lowered his head in repentance. “Whatever Wei Ying wishes,” he said, to another groan.

“No, silly, you’ve got it all wrong. Today we are doing as Lan Zhan wishes, remember? We’re trying to fill all these gaps in your childhood.”

“There are no gaps,” Lan Wangji said, not for the first time.

“How can you say that when we just learned you never had sweets!”

Lan Wangji felt himself frown. Wei Ying called it his ‘non-frown’; he was of the opinion that Lan Wangji’s face barely moved, that extracting an expression out of him was an incredible feat. He made little sense, sometimes.

“I had sweets before,” Lan Wangji said. “My mother had—”

“Made rice cakes once in your life and it tasted pink! You see how that doesn’t count, yes? You don’t even remember how it tasted.”

“I remember. Pink.”

“I mean, a real taste!” Wei Ying threw his arms up, and affection so bright scorched through Lan Wangji’s middle, dazzling. For a moment, he could think of nothing at all. Blinded with this, Wei Ying, on a grey day, in a small town’s market, arguing about sweets. “Pink is not a flavour!”

He was not certain what qualified Wei Ying, whose taste buds would have dissolved many years ago, to be the judge on such matters. But then again it was not as though Lan Wangji knew better. “Mn,” he said, appeasing.

“You,” Wei Ying tutted a finger in his direction, eyes bright, “will do as your gege tells you, for once in your life. What about respect for your elders, hmm?”

Lan Wangji allotted a moment for mental mathematics before declaring the matter pointless. He will do as Wei Ying tells him, of course. “Mn,” was the easiest, most honest response, even if it came off a little eager.

“All right,” grinning wide, putting a merciful arm around Lan Wangji’s shoulders, “where to, then?”

“What?”

Wei Ying flicked him softly. “What do you want to do. Your gege wants to spoil you, Lan Zhan, and remember, you promised to let him.”

“I…” he truly, truly, did not know what to say. Normally pleasing Wei Ying was a simple matter, requiring no conscious thought; this was a task of unprecedented proportions. “Wei Ying spoils me all the time.”

“Not nearly. And far from enough. Come on, you can tell me! What is it that Hanguang-jun is so embarrassed to do?”

“There is nothing,” Lan Wangji said, shame-faced, failing, “Wei Ying.”

“Yes?”

“I want to do as Wei Ying wants.”

Wei Ying rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “Well,” he said. “Suppose that would be a tough question. Put on the spot like that, my poor baby. Say,” brightening, “as a proper Lan, I bet you never even considered the concept of a nap.”

“What is a nap,” Lan Wangji said, just to make him laugh.

“Aha! Another gap unlocked. Lan Zhan, we are going back to the inn room, and you are going to curl into bed with me like a good boy and let me cuddle the nap out of you.”

A frisson of heat ran, lightning-bright down his spine. “Mn,” he said, unable to control his tone.

“Lan Zhan! Such a naughty mind. I mean it! We will nap.”

“Yes,” Lan Wangji said earnestly. “I will be a good boy for Wei Ying.”

“Ah,” with a hint of a laugh, “yes, my husband is such a good boy. Back to the inn, then; there’s nothing better than a good nap on a rainy day. Oh, but we must go back to the sweets stall first and clean out the nice lady’s wares.”

“As Wei Ying wishes.”

He could imagine few things indeed that would rival being in bed, holding Wei Ying. Perhaps he will get half a shichen for this. Perhaps even longer.

“What is it you are thinking of?” Wei Ying asked, his voice soft, words close. He tucked a lock of Lan Wangji’s hair behind his ear, eyes wide, gentle, burning-fond. Lan Wangji sought, and sought, for the words, and knew he would never come close to conveying this.

“You,” he said eventually, defeated, delighted. “My husband makes me very happy.”

For a moment Wei Ying just rested his head on Lan Wangji’s shoulder, and breathed. Then he smiled—something new, brighter, peeled open and brimming with joy. “Good,” he said, and took Lan Wangji in his arms for a crushing embrace, “that is very, very good.”

They went back to the sweets stall, and then to the inn. Lan Wangji, who never felt the existence of gaps in his life which weren’t filled with Wei Ying’s return, was indulged nevertheless, and allowed it, just as he would allow Wei Ying anything.

Tomorrow they would switch, and he would get to spoil Wei Ying. It was a very good existence indeed.

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lxc would be the type of guy to hear abt deez nutz jokes and proceed to approach young disciples and go "careful, you almost broke the rule of hopyu" and they'd go what's hopyu and he'd go "hopyu have a nice day lmaoo gottem"

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tag of the week:

#need wang yibo hitting the babygirl anime eyes Very Hard for a single frame at a time on my blog ✳ @thewalrus-said #yibos puppy dog eyes are fucking unreal ✳ @autisthottygoth #also this video is so funny 〰 becase as LWJ yibo had to always keep the hooded eyes somehow 〰 and here he goes 🥺 ✳ @mbjw #yibo's bts expressionism continues to be a gift 〰 omg he made the funniest faces and i think part of it was just to flex his face 〰 the struggle of playing wangji ✳ @vegasandhishedgehog

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细水长流 / a comic for MXTX Diaspora May 2024

Chinese and English versions below! English translation is by me.

Lyrics are also below, in text form :)

Please do not reupload or reproduce my work anywhere else!

细水长流（中文版）

Xi Shui Chang Liu (English version)

Lyrics

年少时候　谁没有梦　无意之中　你将心愿透漏 就在你生日的时候　我将小小口琴送　最难忘记　你的笑容 友情的细水慢慢流　流进了��我的心中 曾在球场边为你欢呼　你跌伤我背负 夜里流星飞渡　想像着他日的路途　晚风听着我们壮志无数 年少时候　谁没有愁　满腔愤慨　唯有你能听得懂 每当我失意的时候　你将那首歌吹奏　琴声悠悠　解我轻忧 岁月的细水慢慢流　流到了别离的时候 轻拍你的肩　听我说朋友不要太惆怅 霓虹纵然再嚣张　我们的步履有方向　成败不论切莫将昔日遗忘 多年以后　又再相逢　我们都有了疲倦的笑容 问一声我的朋友　何时再为我吹奏　是否依旧　是否依旧 人生的际遇千百种　但有知心长相重 人愿长久　水愿长流 年少时候

When we were young, we all had our dreams Unintentionally, you revealed your heart’s wish So I gave you a little harmonica on your birthday I will never forget the way you smiled

The waters of friendship slowly trickled Into your heart and mine I cheered for you as you played on the field And when you fell, I carried you Shooting stars tumbled in the night sky As we imagined the road ahead With only the evening breezes to listen to our infinite dreams

When we were young, we all had our troubles I was full of pain and anger, and you were the only one who understood Whenever I felt hopeless, you’d play that song And the warmth of its melody would ease my worries

The waters of time slowly trickled Towards the day of our parting I tapped you on the shoulder and said, “my friend, don’t despair!” Amidst the city’s glaring neon lights Our footsteps will find a way And no matter whether we succeed or fail in life Let us never forget what we once had

Years later, we meet again Tired smiles on our faces If I may ask, my friend When will you play for me again? Just like old times? Just like old times?

Our lives are made up of thousands of encounters And it’s a precious thing to meet the one who understands your heart As we wish to go on, so do the waters yearn to flow When we were young

(English translation by me)

About 细水长流 and the xinyao genre

细水长流 (commonly translated as “Friendship Forever”) was composed by xinyao musician Dr Liang Wern Fook in 1987. Xinyao (or “Singapore ballad”) was a very big thing when I was growing up in the 90s and 00s, and I personally found that this song fit well with the backdrop of the story I wanted to tell — both as a nod to my own diaspora roots, as well as my personal relationship with my language.

You can listen to 细水长流 here. Please consider listening to it as you read my comic!

Here’s the link to the AO3 version of my comic.

About MXTX Diaspora May

MXTX Diaspora May has been running since 2021. Its focus is on elevating international Chinese diaspora voices through the creation of MXTX-related fanworks. Here, Chinese diaspora creators may come together to share the diverse aspects of our culture, as well as connect over our lived experiences. Support of this event will go a long way towards creating a more inclusive and open culture in online communities, especially for creators who rarely get their voices heard in the English-speaking side of fandom. If this concept appeals to you, I hope you take the time to check out the rest of the AO3 collection, including the previous years’ collections, which contain an amazing suite of works by various Chinese diaspora creators! The posting period runs until May 31.

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Like father... [1/2]

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[insp]

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🍶~🌸

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Tw/ blood

Tainted

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@mdzsnet — lan wangji birthday event

“I dare ask you, Grand Master. Who is right, who is wrong? What is black, what is white?”

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Irrefutable

“You mean, would I have done it for you?” Lan Zhan asked with this hurt look in his eyes, and Wei Wuxian wished to have swallowed his tongue whole.

“No! No, no, nothing like that. That’s just stupid. All this hypothetical business is rubbish anyway, I know that—”

Even worse, this soft thing his face should not physically be able to do without shifting a single cun. “Wei Ying. I would give you my core.”

Ah, well. Hmm. No, there was no chance to process that. The worst part about life two was maybe how un-flustereably sweet Lan Zhan turned out to be: Wei Wuxian suspected he may have always been sweet, under the solid layer of embarrassment. Now there wasn’t even that.

“Shameless,” he managed, croakily.

Lan Zhan just looked at him. He didn’t move his lips, but he was smiling. “My life is Wei Ying’s,” he declared simply. “My body. My—” stopped only when Wei Wuxian’s hand was on his vexingly-gorgeous mouth.

“All right! All right. It was a stupid question and I’m a stupid man, we get it. Please, Lan Zhan, I can’t bear any more.”

“You will bear it,” the fiend said, after pressing an unfair tiny kiss to his palm.

“Mercy,” Wei Wuxian whined. His chest was too tight for all of this. For all this Lan Zhan, soft and lovely in the evening light, every line of him in blinding, overwhelming harmony. The room was beautiful, the best Jinlintai had to offer, and still seemed a crude backdrop; Lan Zhan was grace itself.

“Mm,” came his concession, or perhaps his refusal, since he pressed another kiss to the hand he would not release, then another.

“Lan Zhan. Lan—Zhan! Lan Zhan, stop, stop it, unless you’d like a puddle of melted Wei Wuxian and it’s going to ruin your nice robes and probably get sticky in your hair and Lan Zhan are you even listening?”

He wasn’t, clearly, although he did this thing with his shoulders that signified laughter, and Wei Wuxian did melt, just, his whole chest gone writhing and slippery and helpless, he was so entirely helpless against this. The only enemy the fearsome Yiling Laozu couldn’t match. And in fact, the battle was getting much fiercer, and unimaginably dirty:

“Lan Zhan, that tickles! Stop, stop, you magnificent arsehole, ah, ha, that, stop, stop, I beg you!”

Stopped only to give him this puzzled look. Something in his tone must have registered. “Did I upset Wei Ying?”

“No,” helpless, rubbing his useless eyes. How to explain this ever-raging storm in his blood of I want to make the whole world yours, and that would still not be enough? “No, Lan Zhan, you're just… perfect.”

He tilted his head the tiniest of angles, suddenly transforming into something so serious it scratched inside Wei Wuxian’s throat. “Not perfect,” Lan Zhan said, as if to make a point. He was mad.

“Huh?” nose scrunching when—he didn’t frown, but—“Lan Zhan. Come here.” Taking his face in two hands, his beautiful, impossible face, which still didn’t move and now was inconsolably, irreparably sad? What the actual hell? Wei Wuxian did that sometimes, said the wrong thing and caused this mini-avalanche, this earthquake which threatened everything good. But he wasn’t even talking about himself this time. What did he say to make Lan Zhan sad?

How dare he make the world’s most perfect man—ah.

Idiot, idiot, idiot. Wei Wuxian could strangle himself if his hands weren’t holding something much more precious. Pressing tighter: “Silly creature. Lan Zhan, let me promise you, the standards for perfection are vastly different between yours and the rest of the known world, but neither matter. You don’t need to be perfect.”

“I know.”

Yeah, he would, wouldn't he. “You may know it here,” Wei Wuxian said, as gently as he could, and kissed right above the bridge of his nose. “I think you might forget it elsewhere. Lan Zhan, you’re everything I could ever want. No, you’re far more than that.”

Slow, cautious blinking: fuck, Wei Wuxian really put his foot in his mouth this time. Lan Zhan looked afraid. Had he not—stupid, stupid Wei Wuxian, has he not been clear enough? Did he not do his best to reassure this miracle of a man that… he should be spending every second of every minute of every hour of every day solely on—

“Wei Ying,” Lan Zhan said. His voice was so deep and so familiar that it settled him, even when it shouldn’t have.

“Lan Zhan,” heartbroken, “you know that I…”

He placed his hands over Wei Wuxian’s. “I know.”

“No, listen. This is important. You know that I—”

“Wei Ying,” softly, “I know.”

“Will you let me speak, you gorgeous arse. Listen. You’re the only reason I—”

“Wei Ying.”

Shaking him: “Stop interrupting and listen. You’re all that matters to me. I would work every day for the rest of my life to be worthy of you and I know I would never be; I would spend every moment on providing you every shred of happiness; I would go to the ends of the earth with a smile.”

Lan Zhan looked at him for the longest moment, then said, “Mm.”

“Mm? That’s all you have to say for yourself? Silly thing, did you listen? Do you get it now? Do you understand how breathtaking and crucial and—”

“I understand,” the bastard cut him off, the edge of his nose brushing Wei Wuxian’s. “My answer remains the same.”

“Your answer?”

The tiniest quirk of his lips, managing to look exasperated and disastrously fond: “Mm.”

“What answer? What are you even on about? Did I ask you a question? Honestly, sometimes you old men do drone on and on when something so simple can be said instead, and…” Wei Wuxian realised he was panicking, had no idea why.

“You asked,” Lan Zhan said.

“Huh?”

He made this face, half fiendish and half bashful, all devastating, and pulled away the tiniest bit until his one blurry eye became definite two. He was the dearest thing in the whole world, so much was true: he was beautiful, and perfect only in the ways that mattered, in the shape of his face under Wei Wuxian’s palms and the burst of never-ending affection that would ruin Wei Wuxian’s life. Running a helpless finger over full, red lips, rejoicing in the trembliness of it, of this joy. Lan Zhan truly was a miracle, and he was looking right at him so, so seriously.

“I would give Wei Ying my core.”

Wei Wuxian could only shut him up with a kiss.