#dyed xinyi

[queenofsquids]

Everything is just almost, almost, almost with this doll.

Here she can almost wear the Halloween deco as a bodysuit. It's so close. But at least it shows how viable John's idea of a bodysuit is.

[winterweary]

OLIVINE:

∅ GOD so many delicious choices it’s hard to pic. I would love the Wei duo’s thoughts on Ara since I don’t know that we’ve actually discussed it?

Also Chrys for any of the next gen kiddos he wants to read to filth 👀

Oho! 👀 Fascinating choice here~.

Wei Renqiao- Ren's got a lot of respect for Ara. He sits somewhere in the middle in terms of how much he relates to her versus how much he relates to Rat, but in a few crucial ways he's closer to Ara in terms of similarities. I do think there's also a potential for them to be foils in different ways eventually, as Ara doesn't realize she's giving up one cage for another when she becomes leader of her STYX strike team but that's what she's doing, whereas Ren doesn't see his decision to join STYX as imprisoning himself. There's a potential seed there for them to have a very interesting discussion in the future.

Wei Xinyi- This is a very interesting one. Xinyi struggles a lot with their perception of self for a long time between the role they're expected to fill for their people, the roles they try to fill in their family, the person they are inside and want to be able to outwardly express, and especially how they're seen by others. Because of a lot of their past trauma, A-Xin doesn't exactly tend to get close to others, no matter how kindly they treat them. But I do think they'd see a similar struggle in Ara, and would want to offer solidarity to her as a result. They don't necessarily see themself as a teacher or mentor, but sometimes it helps more to have someone who can relate, even if it's just on a broader scale, to your inner turmoil and personal conflict.

—

Oh boy, Chrys roasting the nextgens. There's a need to hold back (he's probably known and looked after some of these kiddos) but also, that's not going to help them sort their shit if he does.

"Falla Kingscholar and Asmina Viper could both do with living a little. The former because she needs to do it for the sake of testing the waters, and also because she doesn't need to pick up her paternal lethargy. Of course, if she did get Leona's suspected depression, that's going to need a lot more work. The latter just needs to break out of whatever strict confines she's got herself in. Doesn't matter how she was raised; at this point, she is self-enforcing the behaviors that cause her loneliness and isolation. Sooner or later, between that and the rigidity, she's likely to snap and crumble if she doesn't learn to shake it up.

"Don't get me started on the Kingscholar twins. They've never been challenged and had their mettle tested. They're too comfortable. Sooner or later, something is going to crack the foundations of their world and they can either be tested or they can stay in denial trying in vain to repair those cracks. Smart as whips, I'll give them that, but they've got a lot of growing and emotional maturing to do. Brains can only help you so far there.

"...you know what, Gigi's actually okay, just get that kid a little help for her points of anxiety, she's going to do just fine."

(there is a long, long pause as Chrys looks slowly at Olivine Ashengrotto, and he is yoinked offstage and magically silenced before he can open that one up with any remarks made about "so let me tell you about your dad when he was attending NRC-")

[friendlybowlofsoup]

GotRM Progress Update

Hello, Everyone!

It has certainly been a minute, and I am sorry again for the constant silences on my end. I had some life-changing events happen at the start of this year, which resulted in me getting into my dream grad program far earlier than I had anticipated.

As excited I am about this, it also meant that all of the professional plans I had made for the next two years had to be accomplished within this summer. To say I have been scrambling does not even begin to describe the last four months, and I am only just now starting to feel things lessen.

Thus, GotRM is finally back on my schedule! I have made more changes, and have resumed writing, though the absence has made my writing tone wonky again, so I might be picking up some asks to practice (keep an eye out!).

For space, I will leave my plans for GotRM below the cut.

Larger Changes:

I am in the process of reevaluating how I write some characters. I spent a lot of free time adding to my character outlines, and I want to change how I've portrayed some of them, particularly Min He, Go Ro, Xinyi and Chun.

I am also figuring out how to write dialogue, since I have always felt that was the most awkward part of my writing. The way I want to write dialogue often translates weirdly, so I'm working on overcoming that.

I have changed how I view MC stats. GotRM is a choice-based game first and foremost, and while I've always had this emphasis, I don't think it reflected well in how I've originally done stats/calculations. I will be exploring new ways to incorporate stats to make them feel more unique to GotRM, and will share more when I have the system finished.

Smaller Changes:

Fixing some descriptions of Foxes and their banner to make it more consistent overall.

Thinking of renaming some titles (i.e. Kaski's role over the mountain), but not sure yet.

Making an active effort to streamline my writing style so it's not too...much.

--

I have mentioned this before, but I'm expecting the next beta update to have all finished paths of chapter 2, which should wrap up the character and premise introductions. There's a lot of fun goodies to come in that update (including new stuff in chapter 1, maybe? 👀), so I'm dying to get it out there.

Thank you again for sticking around, and I will be back with asks relatively soon!

Mei

[dollsonmain]

Long post incoming!

So I haven’t been posting any pics of my dolls as displayed because I decided a couple years back to start liquidating my collection so there’s less stuff to manage when I finally can move.

But the BJD generally aren’t on the chopping block, though I have let go of a couple of them that I didn’t really click with (Ji and Bach).

Most of these were bought with my own money, though some were gifts and some were won in drawings.

The majority of my dolls are hybrids.

I do include my vinyl/ABS dolls in the BJD category because of aesthetics.

Goob (left) is a Parabox Ai head on a Goodreau MiM Body.

Mika is a volks MSD Mika

Little Kurhn Colorist Mint

Goodreau Innuendo though she’s currently for sale on eBay, so not really part of my collection. She’ll be added in again if she doesn’t sell.

EVERYONE ELSE.

Starting at the top left.

Bastien, Batchix Bastien head on zombie body prototype, dyed - gifted

Constance, modded Volks old F-04 on a Xinyi body - bought by me

Fakiechan, a modded fake Aleep Eidolon Moira vinyl head on a DBS Dream Fairy body (don’t get me started on how pissed I am at DBS) - gifted

Groddy/Gardenia Rhodes, DDH 07 I think, HEAVILY damaged both to face and body and repaired - bought

Terra, Unoa Latea or Marion head (I forget which...) on Xinyi body - head gifted, body bought

Gum, HEAVILY damaged SD10 Ryo head on an Obitsu50 body (sayaka Miki’s body) which was damaged and repaired - bought

-

Elma, 4StarDoll Edmund head on AoD body - bought

Long Noodle, I THINK he’s a Clever Little blown up and prototype-printed in filament? I don’t remember right now. - gifted

Mimi, Volks SD13 Mimi head on SD10 body - bought

-

Ichiro, Luts/CP Sleeping Sooni on CP Boy Type 1 body - body bought, head given as payment for a faceup

Violet, my VERY FIRST BJD bought in 2001 but body upgraded from the old-old ugly hip balled SD10 in like 2005 or so, Volks SD13 Megu on CP Mature Type 1 - bought

Hyacinth, SD13 Four SIsters or the FCS head, not sure which, on a really cheap Night Lolita knock off body IIRC??? I don’t know. - head gifted, bode bought

Hyacinth is holding Suve, who’s brand I can’t think of right now - Gifted

Lily, SD13 Four Sisters Nana on CP Mature Type 1 - bought

Bellamy, SD13 Four Sisters (don’t know which) head on Mirrodoll Thunder body - head bought by me, body bought by That Guy

Bellamy is holding Dahlia, CherishDolls Pia - bought

Bellamy is also holding Alexander, a DollZone Christmas Baby A - gifted

Giselle, RML 01 modded head on Obitsu60 BJD-style with Volks Dollfie Dream bust - bought

-

Steve, Bishounen House Steve - won in a drawing

Emi, Obitsu50 Sayaka Miki head on Obitsu45 body - bought

Doyen, Volks Customize Figure Kit - bought

Lusis, Unoa Lusis 1.5 - bought

Alyssa, Unoa Sist 1.0 - bought

-

Calliope, HDD10 modded on MDD body - bought

Moon Moon, Obitsu head though I don’t remember which on Xinyi body - bought

Sleeping MiniMee, DiM MiniMee head on Xinyi body - head won in drawing, body bought

MiniMee, DiM MiniMee head on DiM Happy (old) body - head won in drawing, body bought

Nameless Unoa, Unoa faceplate on Buff headback on a Prettie Girls body - faceplate gifted, headback and body bought

Alice, Heavily modded Machina Alpha - bought

Smooshface, A Dollzone head that had been in a fire and modded on a Batchix Machina boy body - head bought, body gifted

[mega-byte]

Has anyone tried dying one of those big xinyi yet? (The 1/4 or 1/3 scale)

I'm curious if it takes dye well

[yourqpids]

JUST DANCE was the first full album and 4th release from girl group QPIDS. it was released on february 26th, 2021 under sm entertainment with the title track DUN DUN DANCE. this album was what caused the group's success to sky rocket, and was promoted for nearly a month.

TRACKLIST!

Girls Like Us

DUN DUN DANCE ( title ! )

Highlight

AYAYAYA

Untouchable

Ladies Night

Iron Boy

Like I Do

Oops I'm sorry

Naughty ( eunha & chaerin ) ( bonus track ! )

Feel Good ( xinyi & jae ) ( bonus track ! )

NOTES

the public ate dun dun dance UP!

a total hit it topped kcharts for months

they brought in so many new fans with it— a lot more korean fans as well as some international.

most of the bsides were popular as well! naughty and feel good especially— arrows ate them up since they were the first unit songs since their predebut albums.

the girls got to work on this album— each of them had writing or producing credits for at least one song and xinyi choreographed the title track while chaerin choreographed untouchable and naughty.

pulled in their second win since debut— as well as five others!

went viral at one point when eunha slipped during one of their encore stages and the other girls laughed and mocked her (playfully).

"ㅠㅠㅠㅠㅠㅠㅠㅠㅠㅠㅠㅠㅠㅠㅠㅠㅠㅠㅠㅠㅠㅠㅠㅠ #EUNHA" — eunha on twitter immediately after

"ㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋ #CHAERIN" — chae in response

had a short reality show at one point titled "QPIDS WITH U"

kim lip, jinsoul and hyunjin congratulated their success on twitter at one point.

overall, a successful era. lots of cute interactions and the girls were very visibly happy.

STYLING

for hair colors, eunha went blonde, chaerin had brown hair, xinyi cut her hair into a bob with bangs and dyed it black, while jae had split dye pink and blue.

their outfits were fun and colorful— the girls were obsessed with them.

LINKS

spotify playlist. photocards. mv stills. line distribution.

[sanriosratz]

Genderfluid and Lesbian! he/she/they pronouns!

he was neglected by their parents quire badly as a child, it seemed they were always busy and unable to perform their duties as a parent. as a result, Xinyi struggles quite a bit with being seen and respected [by the other staff members at POYI], as well as hid body image—he suffered with an ED through the ages of 15–17, but is fully recovered now!

Xinyi is a vegetarian as the texture of meat grosses them out.

she has a few small tattoos (mostly done by Eun-Ji, her gf) and only have their ear lobes pierced. Eun-Ji also dyed their hair for them during a girls night at Eun-Ji’s house!

Xinyi loves brightly coloured things and as such puts bright stickers on her face, because she loves them

[imaginaryelle]

Thanks to @morphia-writes​ for beta help, and to @miyuki4s for all the brainstorming help that went into this chapter!

An excerpt:

There are some things Lan Wangji cannot doubt: Wei Ying’s love for his sister, and her children. His affection for Jiang Wanyin, and the Wens. His dedication to ensuring that Lan Wangji himself does not succumb to the curse he carries.

Every evening, he creates a fresh talisman to replaces the one on Lan Wangji’s arm. He brews one of three different medicinal teas from Wen Qing, in sequence, and serves it, sometimes drinking a portion or two himself. He invites Lan Wangji to play Rest as a duet for the suppressed, resentful souls they carry, and then other, less spiritually charged music, and asks after his core, after their evening meditations.

Every morning, Lan Wangji takes longer than he needs to to comb his hair, and tie it up, and dress. Wei Ying looks younger in the diffused dawnlight inside the tent. Softer, sprawled carelessly under blankets with his sleep robe twisted out of place to reveal the hollow of his elbow and the line of his collar bones.

It’s an indulgence Lan Wangji shouldn’t permit himself. A few moments, watching Wei Ying breathe and concentrating on the steady warmth of the soulbond under his own skin.

Read on tumblr under the cut!

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4 | part 5 | part 6 | part 7 | part 8 | part 9 |

*

It takes more than one day for a sect leader to prepare for the sort of journey they’re planning. Not because of the journey itself, Wei Ying is quick to point out, but because of all the things he has to make sure are done beforehand.

“Wen Qing is locking me in my study today,” he says over breakfast on the first day, “but Sizhui, Xiuying and Weixin are meeting with a tailor for new clothes and you should go.”

As he has been wearing borrowed or stolen clothes for several days now, Lan Wangji cannot bring himself to protest. He has no desire to wear extra infirmary underlayers while traveling, and the plain black outer layer Wen Qionglin had brought to his door was clearly intended to fit as many people as possible. Commissioning something new, or at least something altered to fit properly, is only reasonable.

Wei Ying insists that he’s already paid for the service, which Lan Wangji can only thank him for; he has no funds of his own, or reputation to call on.

“Get something you like,” Wei Ying tells him, even as Wen Qing looms over his shoulder. “Anything you want is fine.”

Lan Wangji assumes this event will take place within Yiling-Wei’s walls, as was generally the case in Cloud Recesses, but instead he finds himself following Wen Sizhui, Zhou Xiuying and Liu Weixin through a town that looks much more prosperous than the Yiling he visited thirteen years ago, and is almost certainly louder and more crowded than he remembers.

That impression may be influenced by his company. Certainly he had felt there were entirely too many people in the street when he was surrounded by onlookers with a toddler clutching at his leg, but if anything their small group draws even more attention now.

Everyone seems to know Wen Sizhui. There are street hawkers and shop owners who greet him by name, and press freshly steamed baozi and sticks of hawthorn candy into his hands, and it is clear from their comments that the townspeople of Yiling are close to their Sect in a way that is certainly not true of Cloud Recesses and Caiyi, or Jinlingtai and Lanling. One merchant is so insistent on thanking them for some past service that all four of them end up holding packages of lotus root, despite the fact that Lan Wangji can have had nothing to do with solving the woman’s problems.

The pattern continues inside the tailor’s shop—the young Wei cultivators are being fitted with new black outer yi and trousers designed to the Jiang Clan’s specifications for the upcoming archery tournament, but they are all clearly well-known to the staff. And Lan Wangji has come with the Sect Leader’s express instructions. And also the offer of his purse.

“Wei-zongzhu said you might prefer these,” one of the tailor’s assistants says, his hands full of fine-woven cream and blue fabrics, “but we do have other colors, of course.”

None of the fabrics on display are the shining, pure white of Gusu-Lan, but there is sun-bleached silk and cloud-white cotton and pale wool woven thinner than paper. It doesn’t seem to matter what he says, or how he responds: he is fussed over, and measured, and prodded. Silk and wool and brocade are draped over his shoulders and held up to his face for comparisons of shade and texture, and he leaves the shop—it is much later in the afternoon than he expected—with the black robe he arrived in newly altered and a sash of summerweight wool dyed the blue of a pale spring morning tied around his waist. Travel clothes, he is assured, will be delivered in the next few days.

He could not bring himself to commission a forehead ribbon, in any color; he is already quite certain these new robes will exceed any budget or social standing Liang Feihong could expect to claim. Wei Ying seems unconcerned.

“It’s a gift,” he insists after dinner. “Besides, you’re still a cultivator, and you’re traveling with a sect leader. It’d be weird if you looked like a fisherman.”

Lan Wangji is certain there are several measures of difference between the dress of a fisherman, a rogue cultivator, and the fabrics that were held before his face today.

“Look at this map with me,” Wei Ying says, the topic apparently closed. “I’m trying to figure out which roads are least likely to be blocked by mudslides. Wen Qing says if I get on a boat during the spring rains she’ll kill me now to save herself the trouble of burying me later.”

Lan Wangji may not have any formal responsibilities at Yiling-Wei, but Wen Qing makes it clear that she expects marked improvement in his spiritual power before he leaves her area of influence. He is given a list of meditation exercises and a schedule of daily training sessions for sword and unarmed work with her apprentices on hand to monitor his condition.

This is not a hardship. He had already planned to dedicate most of his time to this task, and the Wei cultivators have a unique style—not quite Yunmeng-Jiang, but not Qishan-Wen either. Wei Ying, of course, is the most practiced in it, and his version does not even involve a sword; Suibian is distinctly absent from their training sessions, but this does not seem to affect Wei Ying’s efficacy. Twice Lan Wangji is not fast enough to avoid the touch of a talisman to his shoulder, or his core.

He takes no actual damage from them—Wei Ying is careful in his craft, and these were written specifically for this purpose, but the failure drives him to train harder, even against other sparring opponents, until whatever apprentice is observing him steps in and orders a rest.

He spends this enforced downtime reading theory texts from Wen Qing’s library or at his guqin, picking out simple practice scores and more complex Lan melodies in the hope of re-training both his fingers and his core in the delicate language required for performing Inquiry. He works outside, in the scattered gardens, whenever the weather allows. A few hours spent alone in his shuttered room during a sudden storm proves detrimental to his focus, no matter how many handstands he does, or what other meditation techniques he tries. It is better to be out in the open air, where he can breathe more easily.

“Lan Zhan!” On the afternoon of the third day Wei Ying leans around the mulberry tree on the other side of a plot dedicated largely to cooking herbs. He looks around as if he thinks they’re being watched, and then all but runs over to crouch next to Lan Wangji. “I want to show you something,” he whispers. He tugs on Lan Wangji’s sleeve. “Come on, quick!”

“Something” turns out to be the paddock, where a 2-day-old foal is taking in the outside world for the first time under his mother’s watchful eyes. Wei Ying drapes himself over the fence and watches them both with a rapt expression Lan Wangji has never seen him wear before. Zhou Xiuying is also in attendance, alongside her wife—Feng Xinyi—who he learns is the one of the Wei Sect’s grooms.

“Xiaoying and Heitu are just one pasture over, if you wanted to meet them,” she says, which is how Lan Wangji learns that Wei Ying intends to travel by mule.

“Do you know how hard it is to feed a horse?” he says as they walk through tall grass flushed green with the rains. “Have you ever tried to train a horse for night hunting? In a Yunmeng summer? The heat is terrible for them. I think the only reason Jiang Cheng still has horses is his grandmother sent a whole caravan of grooms and breeding stock from Meishan when the war ended.” He produces two apples from his sleeve and holds one out to the nearest mule and the other to Lan Wangji. “Mules are better,” he says, his tone flippant as he pets Xiaoying’s long nose. “And almost as impressive.”

Xiaoying and Heitu are undeniably beautiful animals; good conformation, clearly healthy, and their dark bay coats shine red in the sunlight. And Lan Wangji knows that he will not be able to travel by sword for some time yet. Not alone. He cannot expect Wei Ying to transport them both, and walking will be too slow. Riding makes sense.

“Little Shadow?” he asks, of Wei Ying’s mount. “And … Black Rabbit?” They are hardly the sorts of names he is accustomed to hearing for a cultivator’s steed. There is little sense of speed, or power, or even luck in these names. Wei Ying shrugs.

“Xiaoying used to lie in the grass and pretend to be dead. Sizhui tripped over her all the time, and then she’d follow him for hours. And Heitu likes to jump, she hopped all over the place as a filly--ah! Lan Zhan!” He grins, gleeful, mischief in his face. “Do you remember the rabbits I gave you, all those years ago? And now I can give you another one! A bigger one!” Wei Ying laughs, just as he had laughed in Cloud Recesses, depositing two rabbits on the floor of the library, some sort of gift and joke and torment all in one, Lan Wangji had been sure.

Lan Wangji hadn’t known what to do then, with the boy who refused to leave him alone, who insisted on teasing him at every opportunity. Now, he stares at Wei Ying’s hands, at long sleeves pulled back to reveal his wrists, at his lips, and he knows what he wants to do.

He steps closer to Heitu, offers her his hands in a bowl instead of reaching out beyond her.

“I remember,” he says. It’s possible that his brother allowed his pets to stay, after his death.

Unlikely. But possible.

Heitu snuffles at his hands, all warm breath and soft nose in a way that is, in some small semblance, reminiscent of the soft warmth of his rabbits. She bears nothing like their fragility, but she takes the apple he offers delicately, and he keeps his fingers well clear of her teeth. Wei Ying strokes Xiaoying’s face and talks sweetly at her until she takes his sleeve in her mouth, at which point he switches over to annoyed admonishments. Lan Wangji has just stepped nearer to help him when Wen Qionglin appears at Wei Ying’s shoulder.

“Qing-jie wants to know if you finished that letter to Ouyang-zongzhu yet,” he says.

Wei Ying jerks, and there’s a sound of tearing cloth. He sighs.

“Feng-shimei told you to stop keeping food in your sleeves,” Wen Qionglin notes, even as he distracts Xiaoying with a hand on her neck. She drops Wei Ying’s sleeve and nudges her nose into Wen Qionglin’s chest. Both animals seem accustomed to his presence.

“I took it out as soon as we got here,” Wei Ying grumbles. “I wouldn’t have torn anything if I wasn’t surprised.” He sticks his fingers through the tear in his sleeve and wiggles them. The look on his face can only be described as a pout.

“I can fix it for you—” Wen Qionglin actually looks worried. Wei Ying just sighs and flaps his sleeve.

“I’ll fix it,” he says. “Why should you fix it? It’s fine.” He frowns at Xiaoying for a moment, then leans into Lan Wangji’s shoulder.

“I really can’t recommend becoming a sect leader,” he says, low-voiced, as if this will affect Wen Qionglin’s hearing. “The number of letters you have to respond to is too much work. I don’t think Ouyang-zongzhu even reads them, he just sends some new complaint every few weeks, as if I can control the weather, or the river, or how sleepy his cultivators get when they’re on tower duty.”

Lan Wangji has never heard his brother or his uncle make similar complaints, but they are Lans; they would not say such a thing even if it were true.

“Did you not choose the position?” he asks.

Wei Ying’s face scrunches up with displeasure. He shakes his head, though whether it is denial or dismissal is impossible to determine.

“I better get back to it,” he says instead of answering the question. “Before Wen Qing tells the kitchens to put radish in my food again.”

He sighs, and waves aside Lan Wangji’s bow. “I’ll see you both at dinner,” he says, and Wen Qionglin nods. Lan Wangji watches Wei Ying walk back up the hill towards the main compound until Heitu seems to take offense to his distraction and knocks her head against his shoulder, huffing at him.

“Does Liang-gongzi know how to ride?” Wen Qionglin asks. It’s a fair question: Lan Wangji does not actually know if Liang Feihong was trained in riding. He prevaricates. What is true for him is just as likely to be true for Liang Feihong as not.

“It has been a long time.”

“Would you like to practice?” Wen Qionglin asks, and Lan Wangji agrees without hesitation. Practice, and especially practice in caring for his mount without servants to help, can only improve the upcoming journey.

Wen Qionglin shows him to the tack room, and he manages to brush and saddle Heitu with a minimum of fuss. The main difference between outfitting a horse and a mule, he finds, is that Heitu’s tack includes two belly cinches, there is an extra strap that goes under her tail to stop the saddle moving too far forward, and he has to be especially gentle with her long ears while placing the bridle. Xiaoying is the more mischievous of the pair, Wen Qionglin tells him, and has to be watched carefully so she doesn’t puff out her stomach and make the cinches too loose.

Riding is initially awkward, but after a few slow circuits of the paddock he finds his seat and is able to push Heitu faster without losing his balance too badly. She takes direction well, has a steady, comfortable gait, and doesn’t startle as easily as some horses he’s ridden. He will almost certainly be sore later, especially without a dependable supply of spiritual power to speed healing, but the wind in his face and the simple pleasures of riding are more than worth that discomfort. He turns back toward the stables when they have both worked up a light sweat and sees Feng Xinyi speaking with Wen Qionglin. She smiles as he approaches, but doesn’t stay.

“I should get back to the little one,” she says. “But I’m glad to know Heitu will have a rider who knows what he’s doing.”

Wen Qionglin leads Heitu to a water trough and pets her cheek until Feng Xinyi is out of earshot.

“Wei-zongzhu trusts you,” he says. As if this is a fact.

Lan Wangji stares back at him. Wen Qionglin does not breathe, and he does not blink. He stands perfectly, unnaturally still, and waits. Apparently some response is required.

He settles on, “I trust him, also.”

Wen Qionglin watches him for a moment longer, and then nods. Then he says, “If he truly needs help, I will know. No matter where he is. And I am very fast.”

Oh.

This is probably intended as a threat.

Lan Wangji slides off Heitu’s back, so that they are eye to eye.

“I mean him no harm,” he says. In his current state of spiritual power it’s almost reassuring to know that someone else is concerned for Wei Ying's welfare. It should not be at all surprising, but he finds he is often surprised by Wen Qionglin, who has continued to move and talk and physically reside with his family for over a decade when everything Lan Wangji has been taught says he should not even exist.

Those same teachings would object to his own new existence as well; they are, both of them, supposed to be long dead.

“I will not let him come to harm,” he says, “if I can help it.”

He worries for a moment that this will be too revealing, but Wen Qionglin does not question him further. Perhaps he doesn’t need to. They are both well aware of the loyalty Wei Ying can inspire, under the right circumstances.

“I will show you where to find the saddle bags and travel rations,” Wen Qionglin decides, and he doesn’t speak of anything but Xiaoying and Heitu’s care and habits for the rest of the afternoon.

The evening before their planned departure, Wen Qing summons Lan Wangji once more to her study. Wei Ying arrives partway through her examination of his meridians and, surprisingly, sits quietly beside her desk until she’s finished. When she nods he joins them both behind the privacy screen and produces two cloth-wrapped packages—in one, two coiled lengths of red silk string, and in the other a pale jade carving of an endless panchang knot.

“Our hope is to give your spiritual power a new path through your meridians,” Wen Qing tells him as she inspects the strings. “One that minimizes the curse’s influence.” She blocks the meridians at his shoulder with her needles, and then ties one string to his arm, above the curse mark, and the other below it, each secured with a cloverleaf knot and sealed with a touch of spiritual power.

Wei Ying leans in close and presses two fingers to the talisman over the curse mark, but doesn’t touch either the silk or the jade. He keeps his silence. Lan Wangji watches his face and cannot read his thoughts.

“Just making sure this doesn’t interrupt us,” he says when he sees Lan Wangji watching. He holds up a second talisman in his other hand. “Wouldn’t want to have to start over in the middle.”

It’s a reasonable precaution: Tying the new charm is a long process, a progression of knots that covers most of his forearm. The jade panchang knot is tied in just above the curse mark, and another panchang knot of red silk tied below the wound. Wen Qing and Wei Ying both study it closely, and then she removes her needles and takes his wrist again, walking him through a slow meditation, cycling spiritual power through his body.

The flow of power is smoother, though it does perhaps take a little more time than he expects.

Wei Ying removes his fingers with a nod and a sigh. Wen Qing smiles, satisfied.

“The talisman will still need to be reapplied regularly,” she says, “but these charms together should be enough to minimize the curse’s effect on your meridians, so your core can begin to heal.”

It has already begun. He can feel the difference.

“Thank you.” The words seem inadequate, but he has little else to offer. Even this, she waves aside.

“I’m sure you don’t need my guidance for the proper exercises, but I do have many more theory texts, if you wish to read them.”

“We can bring some along,” Wei Ying promises. “Most of the best ones, we have more than one copy.”

Lan Wangji thinks of the library—of the many books that bear the same hand. Some copied by Wen Qing. Some by Wei Ying. Others in a clear, steady hand he doesn’t recognize. Of the single bound copy of the Lan Clan rules he’d found next to a copy of the Wen principles, and the books that he doubts his brother knows exist, copies of texts that were available to guest disciples studying at Cloud Recesses.

He wonders if his brother knew, when he was rebuilding the Library Pavilion, just how exact Wei Ying’s memory can be.

“Thank you,” he says again.

“Get some sleep,” Wen Qing says. “Both of you.” She stares hard at Wei Ying. “I’m not going to be the one dragging you out of your rooms in the morning. It’s no matter to me if you miss traveling during the coolest part of the day.”

Traveling with Wei Ying, and only with Wei Ying, is different from traveling alone, or with other Lan disciples, and different again from his memories of travel during the Sunshot Campaign. Then, Wei Ying had shifted through moods like ripples in water, sometimes predictable but more often not. A laugh like a clash of swords, a glare that pierced like needles. More than once Lan Wangji had found him alone but for the poor company the dead might provide, brooding under a shadow that seemed to cling to him even on the clearest of days. And then he would turn and ask if Lan Wangji knew this or that song, or if he wanted to spar, or if he’d eaten because surely it must be time for the next meal by now, and Lan Wangji would push aside his concern until hours later, when Wei Ying was just as likely to pull a prank as get in a fight with an ally. A fight with Lan Wangji himself, more often than not.

But that was the war. Decades ago, now, for everyone but Lan Wangji himself.

Now, Wei Ying laughs with more humor, and the cant of his eyes is merely sly rather than cutting. He grumbles through his breakfast and morning tea. He bickers with Xiaoying while saddling her and slouches through the morning hours until some unknown precondition is met, and then he begins talking aloud about whatever is on his mind at the moment: the weather, which continues to be wet, with cool mornings and steamy afternoons, or theories on their two investigations, or tales of past night hunts, which quickly shift into stories of Wen Sizhui, or Jiang Wanyin and Jin Rulan, and from there to the other members of Yiling-Wei, and Yunmeng-Jiang, and Lanling-Jin. Once, when they stop and take shelter under a half-repaired watchtower to wait out a storm, Wei Ying says, “Ah, Lan Zhan, do you remember that week we had rain every day, in Gusu?” and he speaks of Lan Xichen, and the Lan Sect, and what little he knows of its current status.

Cloud Recesses has been rebuilt, reportedly exactly as it was before the Wens attacked. Lan Qiren still teaches, and Lan Wangji feels a swell of relief to know his uncle still breathes. The Sect still hosts a year-long seminar for young disciples of any sect, every few years. Wen Sizhui, Liu Weixin and Zhou Xiuying have attended it, and returned with reports of young Lan cultivators who Wen Sizhui described as friendly, Liu Weixin called unbearably rigid, and Zhou Xiuying pronounced worthy sparring opponents. Lan Xichen has, unsurprisingly, built a widely-spoken reputation for even-mindedness that Lan Wangji knows he himself could never hope to match.

There is no bitterness to any of Wei Ying’s tales. No mention of hardship or enmity, over a span of more than a decade that Lan Wangji knows cannot have been easy, especially near its start. But then, Lan Wangji has long known that Wei Ying lies more easily than he tells the truth, omits more than he ever says openly. Even when he was living among the Mass Graves, quite obviously short on food, the only hardship Wei Ying would admit to was a lack of visitors, and news.

Still, there are some things he cannot doubt: Wei Ying’s love for his sister, and her children. His affection for Jiang Wanyin, and the Wens. His dedication to ensuring that Lan Wangji himself does not succumb to the curse he carries.

Every evening, he creates a fresh talisman to replaces the one on Lan Wangji’s arm. He brews one of three different medicinal teas from Wen Qing, in sequence, and serves it, sometimes drinking a portion or two himself. He invites Lan Wangji to play Rest as a duet for the suppressed, resentful souls they carry, and then other, less spiritually charged music, and asks after his core, after their evening meditations.

Every morning, Lan Wangji takes longer than he needs to to comb his hair, and tie it up, and dress. Wei Ying looks younger in the diffused dawnlight inside the tent. Softer, sprawled carelessly under blankets with his sleep robe twisted out of place to reveal the hollow of his elbow and the line of his collar bones.

It’s an indulgence Lan Wangji shouldn’t permit himself. A few moments, watching Wei Ying breathe and concentrating on the steady warmth of the soulbond under his own skin.

He turns away. Steps outside. Rekindles the fire for breakfast.

During the long afternoon of the fourth day, after they have shared a quick lunch beside a clear-flowing stream and are letting Xiaoying and Heitu forage their own meal, Wei Ying draws out Chenqing and plays songs that seem to be purely for personal entertainment; there is no spiritual power behind them at all. Some, Lan Wangji recognizes as common to drinking houses and inns. Others he doesn’t recognize at all. He is considering unwrapping the guqin when Wei Ying’s somewhat random little melodies turn suddenly familiar.

Not just familiar.

Every note is etched into Lan Wangji’s soul.

Wei Ying catches him staring. He’s not certain what expression his own face is making, but Wei Ying looks suddenly defensive. His hands drop to his lap, wrapping around Chenqing as if Lan Wangji will try to tear the flute away from him.

“What?”

“You remember.” Lan Wangji shouldn’t be surprised—Wei Ying has remembered enough of his brief time at Cloud Recesses to reproduce the Lan Sect’s rules and three different treatises, and that’s only what Lan Wangji found. But it had been only once, in the Xuanwu’s cave. That song has only ever had an audience of one.

Wei Ying frowns at him.

“What ...” his eyebrows rise high on his forehead, his mouth forming a perfect circle. “Lan Zhan.” He leans forward, suddenly eager. “Lan Zhan, you know this song?”

Of course he knows it. How could he not?

“Lan Zhan,” Wei Ying continues. “No one knows this song. How do you know it? Is it a Lan Clan song? What’s its name?”

Words stick in Lan Wangji’s throat. Wei Ying doesn’t remember. Not really. He looks away. At the play of light on water. The swirl of shadowy fish, underneath.

“Lan Zhan,” Wei Ying says again, moving closer. “I can never remember where I heard it, and no one ever recognizes it. How do you know it?”

No one ever recognizes it, he says. Which means Wei Ying has been playing it. For other people. For thirteen years. And he doesn’t know.

Lan Wangji swallows back his foolish hopes. The words he might have said.

“I wrote it,” he admits, to the low rush of the spring and the whisper of reeds in the light breeze.

“What?”

When he risks a glance back, Wei Ying is staring. He looks utterly shocked.

“What do you mean, you wrote it?”

Lan Wangji does not want to have this conversation. Not now. Not if Wei Ying doesn’t remember something so important.

At least, it had been important to Lan Wangji.

“We should keep moving,” he says, and stands. Heitu is drinking from the stream, but she only flicks her ears when he touches her shoulder, and doesn’t offer any more protest than a shift of her weight as he unties her hobble and mounts.

“Lan Zhan!” Wei Ying is frowning at him.

“We are wasting daylight,” Lan Wangji tells him. It’s true enough. This break is no shorter than any other.

Wei Ying grumbles. Retrieves his things.

“What’s its name?” he asks as he settles on Xiaoying.

I have already told you. Lan Wangji locks the words behind his teeth. Wei Ying does not speak of the soul bond, never broaches the topic of their battle with the Xuanwu or anything else from their lives that occurred after he left Cloud Recesses months before any other disciple, does not remember this, despite Lan Wangji telling him, despite his clear memory of the music itself and his perfect recall of texts long burnt to ashes.

“Think about it.” He says instead, and urges Heitu into a quicker pace, too fast for easy conversation.

“Lan Zhan!” Wei Ying calls after him, but Lan Wangji does not look back.

When Wei Ying catches up he speaks of other things, and does not mention the song again.

Notes:        

For the curious, Xiaoying and Heitu are named as references to famous horses from Romance of the Three Kingdoms. 絶影 (sometimes translated as "Suppressing Shadow" or "Shadow Runner") was one of the horses of Cao Cao, head of the state of Wei. He famously kept running despite taking three arrows, and thus saved his rider from enemies. 赤兔 (Red Hare) was described as "the best of horses" and within the tale people considered him to be too good for his original master. After that master died he was given to a new, more virtuous hero (Guan Yu, sometimes described as an ideal incarnation of loyalty and righteousness), who he was extremely loyal to.

(on to part 11)

[vyther16]

first lines: fic-writers meme

Rules: List the first lines of your last 20 stories (if you have less than 20, just list them all!). See if there are any patterns. Choose your favourite opening line. Then tag 10 of your favourite authors!

Tagged by @theleakypen (thank you!) I’m putting in WIP wednesdays that are supposedly the first scene to a story as well, that way I might hit twenty. THey aren’t quite in chronological order, but that’s not super important considering.

1. At Last and Too Soon (Breathe AU) 

“Goddammit Fan Xian,” Yan Bingyun hisses.

2. Breathe (Breathe AU)

Yan Bingyun stares at the inconspicuous note folded in his newly washed robes.

3. oh how wrong we were (to think that immortality meant never dying) (Original Work Echo whumptober snippet)

“I’m not a traitor!” the youngling cries, desperately, futilely.

4. dolls with diamonds stuffed inside (qyn whumptober two-parter)

Yan Bingyun blinks when the door opens, but doesn’t look up.

5. count to seventeen and close your eyes (tgcf book four temple scene nightmare)

Xie Lian sits in the decrepit shrine, avoiding looking at the toppled statue, even though it looks nothing like him.

6. That Which We Call A Rose (cql wwx name study)

His parents called him A’Ying, and it leaves bittersweet memories in its wake, because he has precious little of his parents.

7. Of Burnt Toast and Morning Runs (Marvel crack oneshot)

Steve wakes up to the smell of something burning, which is strange, because the fancy smoke alarms Stark has every ten feet in the tower aren’t going off.

8. Of Birthday Candles and Happy Reunions (Marvel crack oneshot)

“Steve, what are you doing?” Bucky’s voice filters through Steve’s memories, like it always does when he’s about to do something stupid.

9. Homemade Crowns of Wildflowers (HP post-canon Luna & Draco friendship)

“Hello, Luna,” Draco says, and stops.

10. capax infiniti (Coldest Girl in Coldtown/Echo (original work) crossover)

The Lady had lied her way into the Spider’s court; fed him half-truths and bits of her past.

wip wednesdays start here, which means these lines are only theoretically the first line lol

11. 25 Nov 2020 (CQL Wen!wwx au, prologue) here 

In some universes, Cangse Sanren did not have a chance to meet Tang Xinyi.

12. 20 Jan 2021 (MCU Birthday Candles AU, of child soldiers and new beginnings opening scene) here 

“Steve, we gotta go. Nat went a’hacking and found a Hydra base in Sokovia with human experimentation.”

13. 3 Feb 2021 (original work fanuni about Sarathae, an assassin, and Elandorr, a slave) here

Elandorr watches the woman in the cell across from him with wary eyes, fully aware of how deadly the rumours make her out to have been before her imprisonment, how deadly they say she still is.

14. 10 Feb 2021 (The Wolf: soft dom!mxz/blindfolded!wolfie opening scene. no smut) here

Zhaixing is combing out her hair for the night, getting ready to plait it back for bed when her first husband sinks down behind her.

15. 10 March 2021 (WoH Jing An Live AU opening) here

“Zhou-shixiong,” Li Jiaxing says, standing as her door opens.

16. 17 March 2021 (tsotmd Wang Zhi gets a fckn nap opening) here

Sui Zhou stares at Wang Zhi, who is currently sitting next to Dong’er at his dinner table, eating noodles that Sui Zhou knows he didn’t make and leafing through old reports.

-

So, that’s that. I don’t have any more theoretical firs tlines of real first lines, because I’m not putting up my metas or my Multifandom Rants, because those aren’t fics; they’re me word-vomiting for 400-1500 words. 

I noticed that I tend to start with dialogue as well, or a simple history or exposition-esque line. (those are usually followed by dialogue lol).

My favorite has to be 1. I cut the prologue to alats so that line would be the first line of the fic. (and other reasons, but that was the big one). I personally find it hilarious. 

My favorites in what they set up are 10, 11, and 13, because they’re poetic-seeming? To be fair, those three are also written in a different style than the rest, but I like how detailed and that type of writing is, and it just feels sophisticated. Idk mate.

tagging: @curiosity-killed, @rocknghorss, @ anyone else who wants to (bc I don’t remember anyone else who write rn lol)

[valdrift]

@zewujun yea!!! this post!!!! >:)

so the couple are dante estrada and rose xinyi yao (they only let like 4 ppl call them xinyi). they are both bi, nb, and awful and they love each other a lot. they will be gross and sappy to annoy their friends :) dantes a punk vampire, only 71 yrs old, and he likes having fun, traveling, and fucking with the police (hes an expert troublemaker, hes had 6 decades to hone his craft 😘). he can be immature and flippant and has a bad habit abt forgetting things. rose is a goth demon who's also a florist and Haha yes it's so funny they're a florist named rose they've heard the joke 1 million times 🙄. theyre an asshole but very loving of the select few they care abt. dante and rose live together in a house with a flower garden and a tortoise named reggie!! oh and their shitty roommates are there too i guess

marcie vo is a lesbian werewolf who's like the younger sister rose never had (ironic considering their fear of dogs) and theyre are always bickering. that's just how they show affection tho they're best friends 😊 shes good as fuck at cooking and makes food for the whole house. shes also super into astrology and tarot and is always telling raja his horoscope even though he has no idea what shes talking abt -_- has a temper and struggles with controlling her anger and emotions

and raja is a trans (he/they) bi vamp! dantes actually the one that bit him to save him bc he was like dying or whatever but he doesn't care all that much. hes very serious and stoic and is the voice of reason for his stupid friends. hes always taking care of other ppl bc his entire entire sense of self worth hinges on whether he can be useful but that's a whole other can of worms. ppl think he can be scary but actually he just sucks at socializing and is very chill!! the type to cry when drunk and loves cats ^_^

i've got more ocs but yea 💖

[queenofsquids]

I knowingly undertook to dye this Xinyi 1/4 body. With these hard plastic dolls, the hollow body parts usually warp in the heat, and the plastic just straight up doesn't take the dye well at all. The joints and hands take the dye differently than the rest.

I attempt dye because of the joints mostly; I hate painting joints. Theoretically I can dye the body to get those joints colored, then paint the rest. But I haven't gotten that far in my experiments yet lol.

So her hip joints lost all friction and are floppy. And her calves curved and distorted. I was pleasantly surprised that her arms kept good movement.

I'm not super sold on this combo but curiosity is driving me onward a bit

[wolfslaw]

“Everything living dies one day, whether we’re ready for it or not.” The taste of ash swelled upon the wolf’s tongue. The house of Lang had died an ignoble death in the eyes of all Zheng Fa, curled up into a filth-smeared corner and whimpering, a pistol held beneath its jaw. Dai-Long Lang had followed soon after, ailing health and a determined drive to see truth brought to its proper end, and Xinyi after him, her heart broken by her husband’s death. The house of Lang was all but dead, Zheng Fa claimed, but still the son remained. Still Shi-Long howled, the last son of a dying dynasty, and he would fight for his family’s honour with all the breath and blood within him. “You’re in the wrong line of work for anything to be immortal.”

@bloodxhound

[friendlybowlofsoup]

What would the ROs reaction be if Mc said 'I would die for you'? (both in pre-relationship and deep into the relationship)

♡( ◡‿◡ ) Thanks for sending this in! I’ve been in the mode for angst, however, I’ll just do the reactions for deep in the relationship. For pre-relationship, the ROs would still feel similar to the below, but the nuance isn’t as deep because the love hasn’t had time to really foster.

(Also, we are assuming here that MC can actually die normally, and therefore, their words are more permanent, for max emotions.)

Edit: I messed up a line in Spider’s part, sorry qq

–

Qiu hates the sentiment, but he cannot argue with it because the same thought burns through his mind each time he holds you, each time he kisses you. However, he cannot die for you. He has obligations and promises to fulfill, a duty that his life is already tied to, so even if he understands and longs to do the same, he wishes you didn’t say it out loud. There’s something solid about that vow when you give voice to it, and the thought of you dying for him twists his stomach into bitter, bile knots. He wants to dissuade you, but he sees the love and emotion on your face, and falters.

So instead, he stares into your eyes, to see how much you mean it, and then rests his forehead to yours. His silence is an acceptance to your words, but he buries his face into the crook of your neck and prays, fervently, that it will never come to that.

–

An, at first, accepts it with a happy smile, taking it as another proof of your affections, and says the same. It isn’t until you’re nearly taken from her, does she realize the finality of the promise, and she hates it. No matter how stubborn you are, she won’t accept it. She cannot. You cannot give your life to her—if her time comes, then you must let it pass. She promises you that she will do the same for you, and even though it hurts to say it, she means it. She wouldn’t be able to live with herself knowing that you’ve sworn to do something so drastic for her, it would haunt her forever.

She intertwines your fingers with hers in a painful grip, and makes you take back what you’ve said. She will beg if she has to, and will fold into your arms if that is what it takes, but she won’t rest until you’ve agreed.

–

Min He is furious. Her eyes harden to a silver so sharp, the clouds are all cut away. She doesn’t want your life, she has never wanted your life—dying for her, sacrificing yourself for her—she doesn’t need a martyr, and she isn’t so weak to need to be protected. She begs you to never say that again, the thought of you dying for her wracks her with so much guilt, she can hardly stand it. To hear you say this feels like the beginning of a tragedy, like a prelude to a nightmare, and she must stop it before it turns into truth.

Her hand covers your mouth, and when she speaks, you shiver at how cold her voice had become. Then, she softens, as she always does, and when the tension sighs out of her, you notice that her hand shakes when she holds you, as if she’s terrified of what you might do.

–

Kaski snarls at you because he doesn’t need those words. He keeps hold of your jaw, and suddenly it feels like your first night on the mountain again, with you stunned before him, unable to say a word as his voice cuts into you like a knife. He forces you to think, to reconsider your words, because what good is it, dying for a cursed spirit? Let his time come when it comes. Stay out of it. That is his end to meet, and he will not have you, with all the years you have left, steal it from him.

He kisses you suddenly, forcefully, as if to devour those words of yours before they can stick to your mind. His fingers bruise your hips, and only when your breath begins to falter, does he release you with eyes of fire.

–

Xinyi doesn’t want to hear it. He knows how you feel, he gets it, but he cannot accept it. He cherishes your feelings, he forever counts his blessings that you chose him, but he will not let you die for him. You cannot forget that he is human, that he will die no matter what you do, and that any sacrifice made on his behalf will only prolong the inevitable. He’s accepted that this love is selfish, and he apologizes because he only brings you pain, but if you love him, you cannot bind your life to him. That is the one, and only condition he has for you.

He grips your hand firmly and he asks you to reconsider. As always, he bends to the warmth of your affection, but even if his voice wavers as his courage cracks, he refuses to give in, no matter what you say.

–

Hiemi feels immensely guilty for making you feel that way. The word sacrifice sings endlessly in her head and her heart wrenches because to die for love is not something she can commit to, nor is it something she ever wants from you. She is not worth dying for. She knows it, because it’s true. Her goals and ambitions are messy, unclean, and she’s worked so hard to not get you too involved, so you cannot go dying for her. You must not, no matter what.

She motions you to come closer, and then cups your cheeks softly. With soft, loving strokes, she smooths the skin under your eyes. She realizes that if you’re serious, she cannot deter you, but she has to try. She’d never be able to rest otherwise.

–

Go Ro asks you, coolly, if he seems so weak that he would ever need you to die for him. Why do you think he works every day like he’s shackled to his desk—for fun? Because he likes it? Every prayer, every brush stroke, every second he spends is to become stronger. He’s gaining power so he can protect himself and protect you, so that you will both survive whatever storm is coming, because he has every intention of enjoying some semblance peace by the end of it.

He grasps your jaw and your heart twists when you feel how gentle his touch is, how the pads of his fingers ghost across your skin despite the bitterness of his words. He softens, just a fraction, and demands that you banish the notion from your mind. Forget about dying for him. He will not allow it.

–

Chun winces and her hand immediately clamps down onto her shoulders, as if remembering a wound that was no longer there. She snaps at you to stop talking, and briskly changes the subject. She doesn’t want to dwell on the implications. She doesn’t want you to think about the implications. She is touched by what you’ve said, and knowing you care so deeply for her does make her happy, but she doesn’t want you to express it like this. Life is so precious, so precarious and so sparingly kind—you must treasure it, not give it to some wayward witch, no matter how much you love her.

When she’s cooled off, she rests her head against your back and hugs you silently. She swears to herself to never give you the chance to make good on your words, but says nothing when you ask her what’s wrong.

–

Spider goes very still. His heart lurches, elated and devasted all at once because he knows you mean it, and that you love him so much makes him lightheaded. However, as he considers the thought of living without you, of having to watch you disappear for him, he realizes he cannot handle it. Slowly, he admits that he would do the same, but even saying that feels wrong too. He doesn’t want to die for you, he wants to live with you, for as long as he can, and that’s a promise he feels more comfortable with giving.

So he kisses you, a vow in and of itself, to seal his words into your mind so you never forget why he fell in love with you in the first place. He wants to be with you, and that’s a two-person act, so you have to try your damnedest to stay alive with him, no matter what it takes.

[ateezgf]

owo 9, 5, 4 !!

rp meme || inbox 

nine faceclaims i want to use in the future

i actually do have a couple in mind hehe. a couple i for sure would love to use is doyoung, jacob (tbz), & i.m !! i already have an idea for dy but it’s just a matter of finalizing some things. i’m also always eyeing momo from twice but she never seems to fit any of the muses i come up with. maybe one day !!! not to be biased but.... san or changbin..... mayhaps !! sungjin is also a possible fc i could use. maybe sunmi or sungkyung !! 

five plots i want to do in the future

ooo this one’s kind of hard because most of my plots are made pretty spontaneously. those cliche plots are fun if you add ur own flare. i think falling for a tutor/ta or just someone helping u academically in general could be cute !! mmmm... that one youngblood plot i wrote awhile back NFEWKJGN super angsty. i think we talked about this before but a forbidden/rivalry love type of thing. like members from opposing gangs/families falling for each other. OH !!! on that note, a type of plot like nisekoi where they pretend to date to keep the peace between these rivaling gangs. 

four ships

i’ll talk about some of our newer ships hehe. 

jaebeom & minjun .... sort of that couple you wouldn’t think match. i mean, you’ve got jaebeom—who’s artsy, quiet, likes order and peace; then you’ve got minjun— a walking meme, always loud, confident. like even jaebeom thought that minjun’s roommate was cute !! he was crushing on the quiet boy but then he fell for minjun’s personality for some reason NBHJKTRSG. i like the fact that minjun brings out the best of him and vice versa. 

percy & haven .... our twist on the story of persephone & hades !!! i’m sorry percy is such a big BRAT but that’s what haven likes i guess. this one is still pretty new but omg i looooove it from what we’ve talked about. i mean, percy is a demigod so percy showing haven the joys and beauty of human life & haven showing him the aspects of being a god, even though percy’s mom hates haven’s ass. kind of that rebellious thing people do where they date someone who their parents don’t like. 

ares & jonas .... OUR NEWEST SHIP omg. listen, this is so cute like jonas is really out here??? standing up for ares when minjun isn’t there and when ares can’t defend himself ): i just really love the grejkng protective attribute to them. i also rly like how jonas solves all his issues with sarcasm. sounds just like you GNKFJDRHRJENRJ & im ares where i find it super funny. 

xinyi & connie .... biTCHES !!!!! MF an angel of sex/love with one of the horsemen??? i love these two so much. theyre not as opposite attract as maeum & youngmin. xinyi is free to be a HOE and watching connie naturally melt around him ugh. and connie’s puppy loving xinyi too??? love it !!!! omg and the plot we have with LUST ??? UGH that is just angsty and just wow. love these two with my whole ASS. 

[fluffyfluffpuff]

Stifling heat and stuffiness suffocated her the moment she regained consciousness. A thick smell of sandalwood all around made it even harder to breathe. It did not help that the breaths she took were already shallow and weak. Luna tried to open her eyes, but found that it took significant effort before her eyelids finally lifted. Ugly dark yellow draperies and a wooden bed frame was all that she could see. It took awhile for her to register that it resembled the top of a traditional Chinese bed frame. /What in the world… What happened? What's happening? Am I dying again? Where am I?/ As if in response to her questions, she experienced a migraine attack that was so painful it made her nauseous. At the same time, memories and knowledge that were not hers flashed before her eyes. Everything she saw was from the eyes of a girl named Chen Xinyi. Continue reading on GoodNovel or WebNovel! #stories #transmigration #worldhopping #fantasy #fiction #bookstagram #reader https://www.instagram.com/ffp.writes/p/CW7DS4RvCWg/?utm_medium=tumblr

[sanriosratz]

THE OD PART 2 (more fluff, sad fluff but still fluff)

His head spun as he woke up. He opened their eyes slowly, squinting against the harsh light and trying to get used to being awake. Everything was too bright, his eyes hurt. The world was spinning.

He was laying on some sort of bed in an blindingly white room. holy fuck. His thoughts were once again interrupted by xinyi’s voice

“you’re okay, you’re gonna be fine, just stay calm, okay?” it sounded like she was crying. his head ached. he turned his head to look at her even though every pain receptor in his body was telling him no, only to find her holding his hand tightly.

he tried to squeeze hers back but he barely had any strength. she must have noticed because she started sobbing.

“don’t cry, please. ‘m sorry.” he mumbled.

he wasn’t sure if she had heard him or if she understood, he wasn’t entirely lucid, but he wanted her to know that he cared.

it felt wrong saying it, after the way he had nearly given her a heart attack but it was the least he could do.

“no, don’t apologize. i am so glad that you’re alive.” she was bawling now, clutching his hand more tightly.

he winced when she squeezed too hard and her nails dug into his skin.

she let go immediately. he whimpered at the loss. he felt guilty. he was such a fucking mess.

“do you want anything? you need to drink something.” she sniffled.

“no...” he croaked, it was probably bad that he sounded so weak. he felt so tired. everything hurt. his head hurt. he was cold, his whole body felt numb.

“do you want to talk about what happened?

“no...” he whispered. he really just wanted to sleep for a while and forget everything, forget why he did this.

“please. not now” his voice cracked.

god his throat burned. his eyes felt dry and sore, his mouth felt sticky and gross.

god he hoped he didn’t pass out from dehydration. he couldn’t think right now. he knew that his thoughts would overwhelm him. he needed something to drown out all these negative feelings. he needed someone to hold him.

“okay, not now.” xinyi said as if she was thinking about how to say it, “I won’t leave. I’ll stay right here with you, alright? but we still need to talk about this soon.”

“okay…” Adrian murmured.

her hands cupped his face and;

he felt safe.

the warmth made his chest ache more. it made him feel less alone. it helped ground him. it reminded him that there was still someone else who cared.

SOBBING CRYING SCREAMING DYING COMING BACK TO LIFE SOBBING-

THIS IS SO CUTE!!!!!!! IM LOVE!!!!

you dont understand, i love your writing!!! its so well paced and well-written!!!!! the emotion is *chefs kiss*

thank you!!!!