#fcc stop stealing my attention

[nex7level]

Just a gif of a Fan Chengcheng for every mood. 

I might be using these too much...

credit to owners, I don’t know who they are

[nex7level]

Proof #4872998210 that Wang Ziyi is too good to be true...

where can i sign up to be ziyi’s bro

[scriptura-adrepticius]

Synesthesia - Lu Dinghao

The fcc scenario was so amazing I literally cried. Can I request some fluff with Lu Dinghao please? 💕💕

It’s finished, anon :) I hope you enjoy!

Pairing: Lu Dinghao x reader

Genre: fluff, school!au

Word Count: 2.1k

Life with Dinghao is vibrant, joyful, and full of color.

Masterlist

he’s so fucken cute wow

Red.

Red is the color of the day you first speak to him, the first day you interact with him. Red is the color of the air clouding the space between you, the color of his stupid sweatshirt, the color of the fire blazing within your eyes.

Red is the color of the impassioned moment of you yelling at him to shut the hell up.

You are a studious person. You’re quiet and darkly sarcastic, preferring to stick your nose in a book or talk with your quieter friends or study for an upcoming test.

Lu Dinghao is not quite the opposite of you, but he’s rather close. He is studious, he works hard, but he is loud and happy and very, very bright. If you had to pick one color to describe him, it would be yellow. But no matter, because this day is red.

Dinghao sometimes does not know when to shut up, which is an issue for you because you like your peace and quiet. Mr. Tang does little to discourage Dinghao’s talkative personality, so you suffer through it. You think Dinghao is a pretty nice person. But if he knew how to be quiet sometimes, he could be better.

This day is not a good day. Your parents had an argument last night and everyone in the house is cranky, you have three tests later today, and to top it off, you had to walk to school because your older brother, who drives you, had early morning soccer practice.

It’s not a good day for Dinghao to be as loud as he is, but of course he doesn’t know that. Though you two know each other’s names, interactions have been nonexistent and you’ve never spoken to him before.

You’re trying to cram some last bits of information into your head for your history test, but with Dinghao being loud in the corner, you can’t concentrate. You grip the book harder, clutching it tighter and tighter with every passing second, seeing the color red bloom before your eyes.

Red. An angry, vicious color that washes over you in torrents, clouding your thoughts and filling you with a senseless rage, making you stand up and walk over to Dinghao, tapping his shoulder twice and scowling furiously when he looks at you.

“Will you shut the hell up?” you hiss.

The red pervades the space between you two as he continues to look at you in disbelief, as though in shock over the fact that you actually stood up, walked over, and tapped on his shoulder to tell him to be quiet.

“Do you not realize how loud you are?” you say after an extended period of silence. Your patience is wearing thin, and you want him to say something. An apology would be preferred, but you’re filled to the top with that red anger, so you could go for an argument as well.

“Now I do,” Dinghao finally says slowly. “But you could’ve asked more nicely.”

He’s right, probably. But you don’t really care. You’ve dealt with this incessant noise for the past few months and you’re sick and tired of it. The bad events of the day before are also fueling this red feeling within you, making you irrationally angry that he has the audacity to tell you to speak nicer.

“You-” You stop yourself, swallowing back your words because Mr. Tang has just come into the room, and you don’t need to be caught throwing crude words at the school sunshine, Lu Dinghao. Instead, you breathe deeply, allowing some of the red to dissipate, and walk back to your seat.

Red.

. . . . .

Orange.

Orange is that day you see him at the park with his little brother, you with your own younger sibling. Orange is the color of that slight annoyance, but it also faintly reminds you of a sunset. That you should not hold his personality against him, that this annoyance must end for the new day.

Orange is the color of that moment where you look him in the eyes, feel awkward, and then look away.

You always thought of orange as an in-between between red and yellow. Not quite one, but not quite the other. Orange is fierce, but not so fierce as red. You are still fierce. You still won’t put up with his annoyances. But you will yield, because his brother seems to be friends with yours.

You stand, awkward, glancing at Dinghao every so often as your siblings run around the park together. You know you should apologize, but that redness keeps clouding your vision, making you irrationally angry and stupidly self-righteous.

Finally, you breathe, diluting the red and infusing it with yellow to seem brighter.

Orange.

“Dinghao.”

He looks at you, surprised.

“Sorry about last week,” you say, biting your lip.

Orange. Not red.

“I… My parents argued the night before, I had to walk to school, and I had three tests later that day.” You swallow. “That’s no excuse for how I yelled at you, but I hope you’ll forgive me.”

And then you wait.

Seconds tick by, the orange paling until it turns peach and you’re blushing that pale, peach pink in your worry and embarrassment.

“It’s fine,” Dinghao finally says, giving you a cautious version of his normal bright smile.

You shift from one foot to the other. “So… we’re good now?” You look at him anxiously, that pale, peachy orange still washing your vision.

“Yeah, we’re good.” Dinghao smiles his normal smile, making you relax.

Orange. Softer than red, still fierce, yet calming.

Orange.

. . . . .

Yellow.

Yellow is Dinghao. He is the personification of that color, with his bright, cheerful personality and loud voice and blinding smile.

Yellow is the color of the day he invites you to sit with him at lunch, since he notices you’re always alone. Yellow is the color that washes your vision when he laughs, when he smiles, when he steals a piece of food from your tray.

Yellow always seemed a little blinding to you. It’s a bright color, almost too bright, like when you look up at the sun and have to look away immediately, or when you look at a section of text highlighted yellow.

Bright.

So bright.

But Dinghao makes it work.

He is blinding, bright, but not overly so. He laughs brightly, he talks loudly. He exudes the color yellow. There is no other way to say it.

Dinghao is a sunflower, always bright, always looking at the sun.

Perhaps he is the sun.

He says something, and you laugh, letting that yellow feeling overcome you, making you feel lighter and freer than ever. He shoves your shoulder, teasing you, and instead of being the stoic, unemotional girl people think you are, you shove him, teasing him right back.

There are stares, there are whispers, there is gossip about the studious nerd letting herself go with the adorable singer, but you don’t care.

This yellow feeling takes your cares away, leaving you unburdened, unrestrained, free. It’s no wonder that you ask Dinghao out months later, eager to balance that yellow freeness with your studious ways.

Yellow.

. . . . .

Green.

Green is a strange color. It is the color of nature, of leaves and stems and fruits and grass. Yet it is the color of jealousy, of envy and desire and pride and want.

Green is duality, wielding two opposite meanings at once. You try to focus on the good meanings, the calm meanings, but sometimes the opposite takes you over, and you have to fight to keep it at bay.

Dinghao is not the jealous one in this relationship. You are. And it’s difficult. He has a sunny disposition, and no one can help but love him. You told him once that if anyone said they didn’t like him, they were either insane or a fat liar.

It’s the sunny disposition that made you fall for him, but it’s also the thing that makes you a little annoyed, a little envious, a little… jealous.

You feel horrible when this happens, because you know it’s not his fault, and you know you shouldn’t be having these feelings. But still, watching him effortlessly interact with his fellow students makes you envious of his social skills, and even more so when he talks with other girls.

You trust Dinghao. You really do.

But you like his attention, too, and that’s when that green jealousy twines around you, manifesting itself in moody stares, pouts, and a little more clinginess than normal.

Dinghao just laughs, pulling you a little closer, and dissipating that green cloud just enough that you feel better in his arms.

Dinghao getting jealous is rare, but it takes more work to soothe him than with you. He likes your attention, perhaps more than you like his, and you always take care to shower him with it, especially when he’s feeling upset or sad. But some days, he’s grumpy, and if you don’t give him enough attention, he gets pouty.

Pouty Dinghao is cute, and it makes you laugh a little, but that just makes him even grumpier, and you have to spend more time diluting that green haze to a paler, calmer color. Sometimes there are arguments, but with each one, you only grow closer, more aware of each other’s feelings and each other’s thoughts. Dinghao seems childish sometimes, but as your relationship progresses, his maturity increases, and you only love him more.

Even the jealous green brings out good things sometimes.

Green.

. . . . .

Blue.

Blue is your favorite color. It’s calming, peaceful, and so, so beautiful. All the shades, all the variants. You love them.

Blue is the color of the ocean, of bluebells, the color of the sky. It is mature, it is smooth, it is relaxing, it is tranquility and peace.

But again, like green, blue has its other side. And that side is the sad side.

Dinghao is sensitive. Under that cheerful exterior lies a boy far more vulnerable than he acts, a sensitive, easily touched boy who sometimes needs protecting from the world around him.

It upsets you to see when he is underappreciated, when he is shunted aside for one of his more popular friends. It upsets you to see how his smile drops and then comes back up again, a façade for the world to see.

It upsets you when you go to his house to see him tired, sad, and not feeling his worth. It upsets you when he places his head on your shoulder, mumbling his worries about how he’s not good enough, how he can’t compare to his other friends, how no matter how hard and how long he practices, no one seems to see how much he tries.

And you comfort him, lifting him out of that deep, dark, blue haze, reminding him that he is good enough, that hard work will always pay off, that he will never be forgotten by the ones he cares for the most.

You remind him of the good shades of blue, sky blue, ocean blue, cyan blue. You remind him that though blue can be sad, it can also be tranquil, peaceful, joyful. You remind him of the different shades of blue, that there is always some good in what seems bad.

You remind him that blue can give him hope.

Blue.

. . . . .

Violet.

Or, as you’d like to say it, fucking purple, but Dinghao insists.

Violet is a mix of red and blue, of fire and water, of passion and calm and emotion and peace. Violet is pride and dignity, magic and wisdom, grace and mystery. It is rich yet restrained, a perfect combination of the energy of red and the stability of blue.

“Dinghao, if you’re yellow, then what color am I?” you ask, arms wrapped around him as you sit next to each other on the couch.

Dinghao adopts a thinking expression, not saying anything for a few minutes. “Violet,” he finally says. “Violent, too, but mostly violet.”

You scowl, punching his arm, and he makes a face back, both of you bickering like the children you are. Deep down, though, you are touched that he would associate such a color with you.

Dinghao is enamored by your calm beauty, your stoic expressions, your quiet laughs and slow smiles, but he’s also in love with your passionate eyes, your no-nonsense attitude, your sharp tongue and clingy ways.

Dinghao thinks it’s perfect.

Blue and red.

Violet.

. . . . .

Life with Dinghao is vibrant, lively, full of different shades of different colors that make your journey as bright as it is.

It is a disruption to structure, an interruption to organization, but for some reason, it’s okay.

Red and green and blue and yellow. So many colors. So much life.

It’s beautiful.