#I'm smiling as I write this

[respectthepetty]

Regardless if this was intentional for this reason, I think it's smart to have Qian play with lighter after having learned about San Pang and Lili since he is a former smoker because, to me, he is thinking about how nice a cigarette would be to calm his nerves.

Also, I liked several moments about the Lili and San Pang reveal like that Qian saw very visible and physical markers of Lili and San Pang's relationship because it's a nice comparison to the soft touches that Yuan gives Qian (and that he shrugs off).

Hickeys are slightly aggressive compared to the passive domesticity that Yuan and Qian exhibit by cooking for each other and laying in bed. Hickeys cannot be denied unlike all those other forms of intimacy. They are obvious. They mark the flesh.

I appreciated that Lili did NOT want San Pang to admit their relationship.

And that San Pang didn't look Qian in the eye when he said it, which is the first time San Pang hasn't looked directly at Qian.

But Lili can look Qian in the eye because SHE went after San Pang first. SHE initiated this relationship. Lili states that San Pang protected her, that San Pang has been there for her, and she likes him, which sounds familiar.

Finally, even if no one admitted it, Qian figured out that everyone knew but him, and even if they weren't all told directly by Lili or San Pang, they knew.

And that's what Qian states he is actually pissed about - That everyone knew, and he had to find out from this very visible display of physical intimacy.

Yuan knew and approved. Yuan even states that San Pang treats Lili well. So even if Yuan wasn't told, he figured it out.

Once again, everyone knew what was happening but Qian.

Everyone figured it out but Qian until he saw the physical markers of it.

Everyone realized the obvious.

Everyone knew.

But him.

And he didn't.

Until he got an aggressive reminder

Of exactly what everyone knew all along.

Everyone.

God, a cigarette would be nice right about now, huh?

Or a good parallel.

[quadrantadvisor]

Thinking about DP x DC Jason Todd being a revenant again. Here's my scenario. Jason gets called that by some ghost. He's like "what the fuck is that supposed to mean?" He's heard the term before but he doesn't know any actual lore. He googles it. He scrolls past the Leonardo DiCaprio bear movie. He opens the wiki. Sees the words "animated corpse" and gets a chill diwn his spine. He starts reading the first section.

He closes Wikipedia.

That night he has a nightmare that his family buried him, again, this time with precautions. He wakes up in his own grave, full of stones, too heavy to move, to scream.

[inkprilled]

How do you feel about kindness being filmed like they’re performances. Someone hands a homeless person a sandwich, and boom, the cameras rolling. I’m a good person, they say without saying it, but the thing is a sandwich can only last so long, yet you'll be dining on those social media likes all week. Sure,it’s lovely, helping people. But here’s the thing: It’s sad that the world’s become a stage for doing good when you have a camera in your face, or worse in the face of someone struggling to live each day, they are not the supporting actors in your new tiktok. We don’t just help anymore. We sell the moment. Isn't it lovely though getting credit for being decent when your not just doing good. Your doing good for the algorithm.

[blackjackkent]

Can we say my Harper responsibilities to maintain balance start *tomorrow*? Hm... no.

Bonus:

/cc @astreamofstars and @springagainafter, my fellow Jaheira-lovers. <3

[tooies]

i think probably the reason i like the idea of like a girl secretly being a dragon but still trying to just have a life in society and be normal is because it's kinda a transfem narrative of the whole like everyone thinks you're a terrifying monster but you just want to be a girl. and the other reason is due to i'm otherkin

[spelled-like-pajamas]

Something I don't think I've ever seen someone talk about with TF2 (though there probably is someone) is a small detail in the Expiration Date video (which came out in June of 2014, for context that's important later). For context, here's the clip in question:

Did you catch something small? When Scout stands up and says he'll do the date without Spy's help, Spy does something he rarely ever does, something absolutely tiny, but that speaks volumes.

He smiles. A genuine, non-snarky smile.

If you were to watch this when it first came out, and notice this detail, I'd not make any sense, really. Why would he be smiling, when Scout is arguing with him, telling him that he's wrong, basically saying he just wasted his supposed final hours on this world teaching him something he's not going to use?

But then, in January of 2017, nearly 2 and half years later, and (okay spoilers but this has been around for like more than 7, nearly 8 years since posting) it is all but directly shouted from the heavens that Spy is Scout's father. And all of a sudden, this small detail, Spy's smile, takes on a whole new meaning.

As Scout's father, Spy is proud of him.

Even though for what has been presumed to be the finals days of their life, even though Spy has taken ever opportunity to belittle him, to tell him he is a failure and this won't work, that he won't get Pauling (which he probably won't regardless since she is, much like the Spy-Scout relationship, pretty much confirmed to be a lesbian), Scout stands up to him. He stands his ground for something he wants to at least try to do.

And Spy smiles because he is proud of his son for learning one of the best lessons he could ever teach him: stand up for yourself when you believe in something and really want it. He never got to teach him so many things with how he never got to be involved in his raising because of his job, but over the course of 3 days they have, he gets to teach him so much, and leaves him with the most important advice without even saying it.

And it helps to explain a good bit more. It explains why the only reason he interrupts isn't to talk back or put him in his place, but remind him that he's got a date to get to, and his smile only fades when Scout just flat out insults him, like he ruined their father-son bonding moment. It explains why he's so attentive, watching him attempt to start the date, and why when he seems him next, instead of telling him something snarky or rude, or telling him to fight better, he reminds him there is someone he needs to make an apology to, and try to give him the space to take care of that admits the chaos.

Spy can't show it, but he is proud of his son.

Anywho, happy 100th post (took me long enough). Hope to be more active on here, and post more things, and maybe even show off some cool things I make. But to everyone who has been a part of this, from the voice overs on YouTube that first intrigued me to check this place out, to the few but wonderful mutuals I'm so lucky to have, to every weird and amazing person that makes this site somewhere we can call home, I thank you!

okay, bye!

[seokminfilm]

call me by your name | lee seokmin

pairing: lee seokmin x reader

warnings: non-idol au, boyfriend!seokmin, crying!seokmin, some pouting, minor misunderstanding, mentions of feeling inadequate, mentions of jealousy, lots of kissing, fluff (and angst if you squint a bit), petnames ("sweetheart", "sweetpea")

now playing: futile devices, sufjan stevens

"Seokmin, can you come here for a minute?"

It had happened again.

Seokmin's deep brown eyes were pulled away from his phone as he shuffled his way into the kitchen, fluffy socks dragging against the ground as he approached you with wide, worried eyes. He wore a brown button-up, horn-rimmed glasses greeting you as he appeared behind you.

You hadn't called him his usual nicknames—Min, Minnie, and Seok—all day today, and you continued to refer to him as just Seokmin. You never did that unless you were angry, sad, or feeling another strong emotion, and you hadn't said anything to him about it yet.

He was waiting for you to say something to let him know what was wrong, but you said nothing. In fact, you were smiling and acting like your usual self, which meant you weren't sad or angry about anything.

Seokmin tried not to overthink, of course, but he couldn't help it: what if he had said something earlier that hurt you? What if he screwed something up without knowing? What if he had did something that made you feel unloved? Is that why you stopped calling him by his nicknames?

"Yes?" Seokmin's voice was pitched up a bit as he came and rested his head on your shoulder, to which you leaned your head on his.

He said nothing, but his heart broke a little more, confusion etching his features as his lips pursed together in a little pout (that you couldn't see).

"Which one would you like?" You offered a paper menu to him, phone open to Doordash as you were choosing your order from a Korean takeout place. He picked something absentmindedly, brain still flying a mile a minute trying to figure out why you were calling him by his whole name.

"Okay, Seokmin, thank you." You pecked his cheek quickly, closing the menu as you started to input your orders in. His eyes were watering now, and his nose was starting to run as he fell quiet, obviously not wanting to be loud or annoying to you.

Seokmin shuffled his way back to the couch, tears flowing freely now. He didn't know why he felt so strongly about the fact you weren't calling him Minnie or Seok, but it really did make him worry.

He felt inadequate at this moment, feeling as if he didn't offer you enough love to be called by his nicknames. Seokmin felt jealous, jealous that there could be other people out there—other males out there—making you feel better than he could.

After you finished placing the order, you went into the living room, stopping short at the sight of your boyfriend crying to himself.

You were confused beyond belief—why was your boyfriend crying? He didn't seem sad or bothered by anything, so why did he start sobbing out of the blue? Did you do something to him? Did you say something to him that hurt his feelings? Did you ignore him for too long?

"Oh my god, Seokmin? What's—what's wrong?" You asked, rushing to his side as you collapsed on the couch beside him. He fell silent, still sobbing as he pawed at his eyes like an agitated child.

You were confused as to why he was crying, hand on his thigh as you shushed him, pushing his hair away from his tear-streaked cheeks. He continued to cry into his hands until you finally got him to quiet down, and you then took your hands in his, still wiping at his wettened cheeks.

"Seokmin?" You asked again, and he removed his hands away from his eyes, gaze sharp and pressing as he muttered "It's that."

"What?" You pressed, confused, and Seokmin sighed, lips quivering as he continued. "You keep calling me Seokmin." He said his name with such venom you almost jumped at the sheer emotion you felt from his words, and you tried your hardest to understand, eyes falling to his hands that were laying limply in yours. He wasn't even holding them.

"Why do you keep calling me Seokmin? You always call me Minnie, Seok, Kyeom, or some other nickname you come up with for me, but today you've not said one. You've only called me Seokmin. Did I do something wrong? Did I say something that—that hurt you? I don't even know what I did—why aren't you calling me by my names? What did I even do?" Seokmin started to ramble, voice growing higher and his speed picking up as you watched him in surprise, taking his hands in yours once again.

"Hey, hey, Seok." You released a breath you didn't know you were holding, and your boyfriend looked back up at you from his shoes, tears falling again as his eyebrows furrowed. "What?"

"I'm not mad at you, and you didn't say or do anything wrong," You reassured him, scooting closer as you turned his face to yours softly as he looked at you with wide, lost brown eyes.

"I just got caught up in my day. I was so busy with finishing work and cleaning the house and ordering us dinner that I just—I just forgot about you. I forgot the most important thing." You sighed, hands trailing down Seokmin's face as your fingertips tickled his jaw.

"If anything, I thought you were mad at me. You were crying, and you never cry without telling me why." You say softly, and Seokmin shakes his head softly, barely moving as you pressed a kiss to his still-quivering lips.

"I love you, you know that? Whether I call you Seokmin, Minnie, Kyeom, or baby, know that I'll love you forever and always tell you if something's wrong. You never have to wonder about me, okay? Always ask me." You pleaded, and Seokmin nodded again, sighing as you took him in for another kiss.

"I'm sorry again, Minnie." You apologize, and Seokmin wipes the tears from his face, nodding as his cheeks stain a red color. "I forgive you. I'm sorry that I overreacted."

"You didn't overreact. I would react the same way if you stopped calling me sweetpea or sweetheart." You smiled, and Seokmin's hand slipped around your waist as he smiled, kissing your lips softly as his chapstick tickled your kiss-swollen ones.

"I won't ever stop." Seokmin promises, smiling again as you lean in and kiss him again, and again, and again—as if apologizing for every nickname you have that you hadn't called him in ages.

taglist: @oojiehae @kyeomssant @realmofclouds (please comment if you want to be added to the taglist!)

reblogs, comments, and likes are appreciated! thank you for reading <3

[atissi]

had to watch the new Folding Ideas video twice, read all of the comments, watched Lady Emily's video, watch an AVGN video for the first time (sorry i'm gen z), failed to get through Wavelength (1967), read a bunch about Wavelength (1967), and read through a bunch of Twitter comments, but i think i'm finally understanding the artistry in "i don't know james rolfe"

narratively it's dan olson revealing the rorschach test of media analysis, i.e. there was no way for him to critically analyze james rolfe's career without revealing all of his own obsessions and insecurities, just as james rolfe reveals himself through his film and video game reviews. this concept is lampshaded by the highlighting of Wavelength (1967), an extremely minimal and obtuse film that engages with the idea of inattention — meaning that bored or negative responses to the work are still responses to the theme. which is cool.

and it's cool that criticisms of dan olson's video include people upset that he hyper-focused on specific elements of james rolfe's life and not other, arguably more important elements, such as the Monster Madness controversy or james's time in special ed — almost as though the character of dan olson is cherrypicking aspects of james rolfe's life that are the most personally wounding to him. aspects that expose dan's insecurities relating to filmmaking and failed dreams, expressed through the vessel of AVGN.

but meta narratively, the video becomes a rorschach test for the audience — your response to the video reveals your own obsessions and insecurities in how you relate to dan olson. why does someone find the video mean-spirited? why does someone else think the video is self-serving? why do I feel so awkward watching dan attempt a deeper, more abstract creative work?

where does dan olson end and the character of dan olson as a media critic begin? where do you as an audience member end, and YOU begin?

it's projection all the way down

[becca-e-barnes]

Sub Bucky and a breeding kink 💀 dead unlived it's one of my favourite things 😌

This is pretty high up there on my list of dream fantasies 🥵 these are two of my biggest weaknesses, don't even look at me rn

One of life's greatest joys is cuddling with the other person's head resting on your chest so you can play with their hair and rub their shoulders. I love that shit, having someone else's body weight on you is so comforting.

I imagine that's something Bucky would really enjoy too. It's so soft and sweet and tender and getting to feel cared for would really appeal to him.

But that's up until his hands work their way under your top, up over your bare skin so he's able to cup your breasts and bury his face between them while he's getting his hair played with. Life's pleasures don't get much simpler than that.

After a few moments he shifts slightly, tugging the neckline of your shirt out of the way to give himself space to kiss and nip your skin. All of a sudden he's desperate and it's beautiful to watch.

"Please." He whispers between frantic kisses, flicking his tongue over the stiff peak of your nipple before engulfing it with his warm, eager mouth.

"Please, what?" You tease, tugging on his hair just a little for emphasis.

He groans, frustrated by his own lack of coherence, pulling his mouth from your nipple. "Please let me put a baby in you."

That's not what you were expecting but fuck, he makes it sound pretty appealing.

"Bucky-" You begin but he cuts you off, giving your other nipple the same attention as he gave the first. God, that's distracting.

"You'd make. Such. A pretty. Mommy." He whispers, kissing his way down your body until he reaches the bottom seam of your top. From there, he pulls it off, letting it fall to the floor before removing the rest of your clothes.

"You'd look so pretty with a little baby bump." His huge hand rests on your bare tummy, imaging how your body would change.

"I want it, Buck." You mean it too. It doesn't sound like such a bad idea when he's taking his clothes off.

"I know you want it." He groans, rubbing the tip of his dick against your soaked core. "Y-you're so wet."

He presses his hips forward, sliding inside you and you can't explain it but you swear it feels different this time.

"Don't even think about pulling out." You cup his face in your hands, keeping his eyes on you and you almost worry he's going to fuck himself senseless into you. "I want you to make me a mommy. You're going to give me every single drop of cum and when it starts to drip out of me, you're going to fuck it back in."

His head falls onto your shoulder, sobbing a pathetic moan against your already hot skin. The pace of his thrusts matches his need, his hips slamming into yours and when he finally gives in, he cums inside you with your legs clamped around his waist, making sure he couldn't pull out even if he wanted to.

[eyvahbae]

I might be forgetting smth but i think Snotlout is the only character in all of httyd that breaks the 4th wall

Multiple times

• He smiles at the camera at the end of Quake, Rattle and Roll

• He looks directly in the camera when he refers to Hiccup and Astrids relationship as "Hiccstrid"

• He plays true crime narrator and talks to the camera when they're looking for Chicken

• He makes a reference to his death in the books during Malas trials by saying "what's one little arrow gonna do" (that one's debatable to be fair)

Considering that the twins are usually the ones doing the more meta jokes and they just get given random bits to do in most episodes it i do wonder why only Snotlout ever breaks the 4th wall

[varpusvaras]

I really need to go to sleep but I also really need to get this out of my mind

Force Ghost Fox, wandering around the Galaxy. His brothers cannot see him. There aren't left any people who could see him, anymore.

He visits Bail and Breha, too, and sits with them and wishes that he could reach out, that he could tell them that he is right there.

He watches their daughter as well. A cute, tiny little thing. He sits besides her cot at nights and hums at her, even though he knows she cannot hear him. He watches her sleep as he does so, and he wishes that she was his, too.

One night, she awakens, and her little face scrunches up like she's going to cry. Fox shushes her, out of instinct, no matter how little it will be of help-

She stops, and looks up, and Fox swears that she is looking straight at him.

No, no, she cannot be. He is just imagining it.

Then she smiles, and reaches towards Fox.

[fiona-fififi]

Suddenly thinking about Buck, after he and Eddie finally get together, accompanying Eddie to his pick-up games every now and then just so he can sit on the sidelines to cheer Eddie on.

[nonokoko-draws]

SPOILERS FOR 2024 JP BIRTHDAY CARDS

Stinky emo boy PUT THOSE GRIPPERS AWAY❗❗❗❗

He looks just like how I imagined he would dress to stay at his bedroom and I adore itttt. I foresaw the baggy pants, the premo shirt, his groovy being him at his room with some sort of device in hands and his bigass forehead shown <333

THE EMO BANG COVERING ONE EYE OMGGGGG JESUS HE LOOKS SO FINE AND EDGY 😩😩😩😫😫😫😫😫

Bet that was his usual get to go hairstyle when he was 13-15 he went through edgy wattpad/AO3 phase and never looked back. I do not like he's wearing the full track-suit because he reminds of a 60↑ something character who also wears blue/orange tracksuits and it gives middle aged unemployed or PE teacher vibes in general but then again what was I expecting from Idia. Tho his outfit really fits the hikikomori "style"? Like that's something people picture depressed people who isolates themselves wear indoors and I guess it makes sense Yana would go down that route. I still wish he was the type who wears over the top cutesy or otaku clothing even if it was only when he's not in public because he likes idols and cutesy anime (In Epel's hometown event he talks about an old anime about friendship among young girls so it was probably a shoujo marketed to kids or women) so I believe it would make sense he owns stuff like that and was proudly wearing it but ig that's why hcs and fanarts are for ✨

[goodlucktai]

gently in the cold dark earth

scum villain's self saving system word count: 2k canon divergent / no system au; sy transmigrates into an empty npc role; gray lotus binghe loves his shixiong more than life and he's ready to make it everyone's problem

title borrowed from work song by hozier

read on ao3

x

The first thing Luo Binghe does when he escapes the Abyss is return to Cang Qiong Mountain. 

With Xin Mo secured to his back, the way could be instant if he so chose—the journey of a thousand miles reduced to a single step—but he unsheathes the elegant jian at his hip instead.

Yong Liang sings sweetly for him, the snow white blade still shining and untainted even after years of helping Luo Binghe carve his way through hell. It has never once failed him, soulbound to the one person still on this earth who has never failed him. 

“Take it,” his shixiong insisted, low and urgent. The Abyss was behind them, an even deadlier threat was ahead, and Without A Cure clogging his meridians made Luo Binghe the best choice to wield the only unshattered spirit sword they had between them. “Binghe, take it.”

He pressed until Luo Binghe’s grip curled tight around the hilt, not hesitating to put his soul in Luo Binghe’s hands even with the rosy glow of an unsealed demon mark shining on his face. 

Luo Binghe flies at a pace best described as dangerously reckless, hardly smelling the fragrant spring air or feeling the sun on his face. His robes are a disgrace, his hair a tangled, matted mess, and it occurs to him that he could stop somewhere and clean himself up, make himself presentable, but it’s a brief, fleeting thought. 

Shen Yuan would be furious to find out that Luo Binghe wasted even a single second returning to his side. 

——

He passes through the ancient wards effortlessly, feeling them fall away from him like water. It’s a simple thing to tamp down on his demonic qi, to disguise the parts of him that those so-called righteous cultivators would scorn. He ghosts through the familiar grounds as eagerly as a starving animal bolting down a fresh game trail, but one by one, all of their familiar haunts come up empty, without even a lingering trace of Shen Yuan’s spiritual energy left behind.   

The head disciple’s room is dusted and undisturbed, as if its occupant might walk through the door at any moment, but the lack of clutter and the empty book shelf makes it very clear to Luo Binghe what the truth must be.

If Shen Yuan returned to the peak after the Conference, he didn’t stay. 

All at once, images crowd the front of his mind—his shixiong grieving, pulling away, turning his back on those responsible for his heartache. 

Yue Qingyuan, always only a step behind wherever his precious Xiu Ya sword went, promised that no one wanted to hurt them. They only wanted to help.

He looked so solemn and righteous that Shen Yuan reluctantly allowed himself to be convinced. Luo Binghe, who had gone to the man for help after a bloody whipping when he was a child, only to be given a walnut cake and turned away at the door, knew better. 

He wasn’t surprised when Shen Yuan was wrenched away from him, and shizun sent him staggering off the cliff with a spiritual dagger buried to the hilt in his chest, all of it happening within a matter of seconds—but it still hurt. 

Shen Yuan’s scream followed him all the way down. 

I’m alive, Luo Binghe thinks, with no one there to tell it to. I came back to you. Let me come back to you. 

——

Including time spent in the abyss, it’s three years before they meet again. 

Luo Binghe’s revenge is his second priority at best, but he is nothing if not efficient and knows how to kill two birds with the same stone. Huan Hua affords him ample resources and opportunities to scour the world for his missing shixiong while playing the role of earnest and diligent new disciple. He snatches up each mission that comes along as though  eager to prove his worth to the sect that so graciously took him in, but he takes every excuse to wander, to search, to make conversation with vendors and innkeepers and passing strangers. 

Have you seen my heart? It lives outside of me in the form of a beautiful young man and tends to wander. Very contrary, likes to fuss over people, could argue the stripes off a lushu just for fun. You’d know it if you met it. You’d never forget. 

The days blur together, meaningless and gray, but he doesn’t stop looking. Shen Yuan still exists somewhere in this world, because otherwise Luo Binghe wouldn’t. It’s the only thing that makes sense. The alternative doesn’t bear thinking about. 

And then, finally—an afternoon in Jinlan City, when Luo Binghe arrives in a throng of incompetent gold-clad Huan Hua disciples, to investigate a plague of all things—

He’s there. 

In dark, neutral colors and plain clothes, a traveling cloak with its hood resting down around his shoulders, as if his beauty could possibly be lessened by cheap, shapeless fabrics rather than effortlessly enhanced. His hair falls from its half-tail in glorious waves—he never did have the patience for anything elaborate, only wearing braids when one of his sticky shidimei cajoled and convinced him. Traveling alone, who could he possibly have to roll his eyes at and complain about and sit patiently still for?

A pale green ribbon is all that decorates his hair. Luo Binghe recognizes it instantly. 

“You should spend your allowance on yourself, Binghe,” Shen Yuan scolded him, not for the first time and certainly not for the last. 

“But I did,” Luo Binghe protested, widening his eyes and clasping his hands earnestly, the way he knew worked best. “I wanted it! And now that I have it, I want to give it to you.”

Shen Yuan was too clever by half to be truly fooled by the innocent act, but he always folded like paper anyway. He spoiled all of his shidimei but Luo Binghe most of all. Anyone on Qing Jing Peak would be hard-pressed to think of a single example of Shen Yuan telling Luo Binghe ‘no.’ 

Sure enough, after a second spent visibly wrestling with himself, he blurted, “Oh, fine! Hand it over.” 

He wore it every day since. He’s wearing it now. The wind catches the ends of it, sending it streaming behind him like the tails of a paradise flycatcher. Lovely. 

For a brief moment, Luo Binghe is frozen where he stands, finally faced with the very thing that he’s been missing for years, that he’s been living a miserable half-life without. 

And then he remembers himself and lurches forward. His voice is a tangle in his throat but he manages to choke out, “Shixiong!”

A strike of lightning couldn’t have jolted Shen Yuan into more perfect stillness. He stops mid-step, every inch of him as good as carved from precious jade. He doesn’t turn his head, and the sliver of his face visible from where Luo Binghe stands is very pale. 

Luo Binghe wonders suddenly if this has happened to him before—if Shen Yuan has heard a voice on the road or in the market that was almost familiar, that was almost the one he was hoping for, only to be disappointed when he turned to follow it and found a stranger. 

Luo Binghe shortens the distance between them with a few anxious steps and tries again. 

“Shixiong.”

The older boy whirls around abruptly, as if to get it over with. He’s bracing himself, but Luo Binghe barely has a second to absorb Shen Yuan’s painful-looking anticipation before it bleeds out of his face in favor of something else entirely. 

He looks like the earth has fallen out from beneath his feet, like he hardly dares to believe his eyes. Zheng Yang gleams golden at Shen Yuan’s hip, reforged and whole again.

“Binghe?”  

“It’s me,” Luo Binghe says softly. 

There’s a tableau he’s afraid to break, as if they’re in a delicate dreamscape and a move too sudden or loud might dissolve it. He wants to say I’ve missed you the way lungs miss air, immediately and needfully, I haven’t breathed at all since we’ve been apart. He wants to say you’re my light in the dark, I can only stand in front of you now because I love you too much to ever truly leave you. 

Instead, he tells his dearest friend, “This one made you wait. But your Binghe is here.”

Shen Yuan sprints the rest of the way to meet him, almost before he’s even finished talking, and they collide in a solid embrace that knocks the air from them both. 

His arms wind around Luo Binghe’s waist like steel bands, fingers digging into the back of his robes, precious face pressed into the crook of his neck and shoulder. Luo Binghe doesn’t hesitate to gather him up close, holding him as tightly and securely as he knows how, burying his nose in his shixiong’s hair and breathing in the familiar, beloved smell of him.  

Shen Yuan is a few inches shorter than he remembers. All the better to tuck him beneath Luo Binghe’s chin, to cover and surround him so completely that not even the heavens above can get a decent eyeful. 

He wants to grab and bite and pin Shen Yuan beneath him and never let go. His jaw aches with wanting it. 

“I’ve been looking for you,” Luo Binghe says, eyes wet. “I went home first.” Unsaid goes the obvious but you weren’t there. 

“How could I stay?” Shen Yuan bites out, managing to sound all at once strangled and bewildered and—charmingly—offended. He shakes his head without lifting it, an aggressive nuzzle against Binghe’s shoulder. “After what they did to you, I’d rather die than represent their stupid sect another minute.”

“Step away from it, Shen Yuan,” shizun said coldly. “I’ll put that beast back where it belongs.”

“No,” shixiong said in a voice that was smaller than usual, one that shook. He was frightened, clearly overwhelmed, but he didn’t budge from where he was plastered in front of Luo Binghe like a breathing shield. 

“Now.” 

“No, shizun.”

“Shizhi,” Yue Qingyuan said gently, offering his hand. “Come here. It will be alright.”

Shen Yuan said, “No. You can’t hurt Binghe. He’s not bad just because of who his parents are. He’s as good as he was yesterday, and the day before that, and the day before that. He’s hardworking and loyal and a sweetheart to anybody who gives him half a chance. He’s so good.”

Liu Qingge was behind the sect leader, sword drawn. Shen Qingqiu was quickly losing what little patience he had, face twisted into a sneer, dark eyes stabbing hatefully at Luo Binghe from over his head disciple’s shoulder. There were more figures rapidly drawing closer, the other peak lords following the flare of Yue Qingyuan’s qi. The standoff was becoming more and more untenable, and Shen Yuan was too smart not to see that, shrinking back against Luo Binghe as much as he could without crowding him closer to the edge. 

“You can’t hurt him,” he said again, the closest Luo Binghe had ever heard him come to tears, “he’s my shidi.”

Luo Binghe is unsurprised by his shixiong’s loyalty, because it’s already been proven to him over and over. It’s unremarkable at this point, which is an absolutely remarkable thing in itself. It makes him feel warm with gratitude and affection and ownership. 

Shen Yuan is clever and quick on his feet and always three steps ahead, more knowledgeable about flora and fauna than anyone else Binghe has ever known combined, and probably a force to be reckoned with as a rogue cultivator, where the only rules of conduct he has to adhere to are his own. 

But Luo Binghe hates to think of him on the road alone, without the little martial siblings who follow him like ducklings, without his Binghe there to make sure he remembers to eat all his meals and comb out his hair before bed. He’s a creature of comfort, made for airy rooms with too many cushions and an abundance of sweets and books to read. 

Luo Binghe has fantasized more than once about building a home for Shen Yuan to lounge prettily in. It was, in fact, his favorite flavor of daydream since he was about thirteen. 

If Shen Yuan wants to rogue cultivate, then that’s what they’ll do. But Luo Binghe thinks, if he constructs a palace that’s as comfortable as it is grand, and fills it with trashy romance novels and obscure beasts and his own hand-made meals, he can convince his friend to live in it with him.

Shen Yuan needs to be taken care of. Luo Binghe needs to be the one taking care of him. They’re together now and they’ll never be apart again and those needs can both be met. 

That possessive, proprietary feeling coils dark and deep inside him, undulating lazily like a serpent who’s fed enough for days, reminding him over and over what he already knows:

Mine. 

[moonlight-prose]

i shall leave you guys with one final thought: dofp!logan likes to be reassured he's a good boy in every scenario. did he do something well? good boy. did he make you smile? good boy. did he make you cum so hard your vision went black, only to look down and see his face coated and sticky and shining under the bedroom light? very good boy.

[isca-rambles]

Tim putting little boots in Lucy's locker because she's technically a rookie TO (temporary or not) so he can call her boot again. that's it. thank you for coming to my ted talk.