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Them and their modern slang

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“Who is Su Xiyan?” Luo Binghe asked coldly. “My mother was a mere washerwoman.”

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hi, sorry, I just wanted to ask, and this is prolly going to sound super dumb, are authors chill with people commenting on their old fanfics and stuff?

just want to make sure that I'm not inadvertently being annoying

I believe I speak for most authors when I say they’ll never be annoyed by any positive comments from their readers

authors, reblog if you love receiving new comments on your old works

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Shen Yuan stared up at the man, disbelief clear on his face.

The man before him huffed a laugh, brown eyes becoming crescent shaped with amusement. He was a little taller than Shen Yuan, a little broader, with a sleeve tattoo covering his right arm to his wrist. His dark brown hair was softly curled, more wavy, and a little shaggy, falling to his shoulders. His face reminding Shen Yuan of Binghe. Not a lot, but just enough if he were to tilt his head and squint.

“You’re just a kid.” When the man finally spoke his voice was as smooth as velvet. “How old are you?”

“Nineteen.” Shen Yuan automatically responded as he gawked.

The man had round wire glasses, a piercing on the left side of his lower lip, both ears were pierced, and he had cheekbones that belonged on a magazine cover. He was a little older than Shen Yuan expected. Somewhere in his late-twenties compared to Shen Yuans late teens.

“Cucumber-Bro, come on, I’m not that different.” Airplane Shooting Towards the Sky offered a smile, showing off dimples underneath a days worth of scruff.

“How old are you?” Shen Yuan demanded, still blocking the doorway into the dorm.

“Thirty.”

What the fuck?

“What the fuck?” Shen Yuan asked aloud.

Seriously, this was the caffeine addicted crack-writer?!

When Shen Yuan had woken up back in his dorm room instead of in bed with his husband in the bamboo house, he immediately contacted Airplane—it was a gamble, but it paid off. The relief Shen Yuan felt when Airplane responded was like a weight lifted off his shoulders. He gave the other man his phone number and address, then waited an excruciating five days until the two could meet. (Because Shen Yuan lived in Beijing, but Airplane apparently lived in Chengdu, and last minute flights weren’t cheap.)

Shen Yuan knew that his friend would look different. Hell, Shen Yuan looked different! A little shorter, a little rounder, way younger. With pitch black eyes, short inky black hair, and an ear piercing. He was pretty rather than handsome, softer than Shen Qingqiu.

And it wasn’t that Shang Qinghua wasn’t handsome—he was! Like everyone else in PIDW. But Airplane?

“Can I come in?” Airplane asked while shoving his hands into his back pockets. He wasn’t dressed fashionably. His beat up backpack was slung carelessly over a shoulder, jeans were ripped due to wear and tear, his faded band shirt was due to too many washes, his sneakers were scuffed. And yet…

Shen Yuan dressed in the latest fashion. He tried his best to look good, he had standards for himself! He looked like a C-Pop star.

Airplane wasn’t even trying to be hot. (WHY WAS HE SO HOT?!)

It shook something inside of Shen Yuan. All of his past theories of Airplane being a troll flew out the window.

“Well?” Airplane looked like he wasn’t above shoving past his friend to get in.

Shen Yuan allowed his friend inside, still shook.

“Shang Qinghua.”

“What?”

“My name, bro.”

“Wait…you used your actual name for the character closest to Mobei!? Fucking Mary-Sue!”

“Ah, there we go, there’s the Peerless Cucumber I know. Although it’s weird to hear such vitriol from a face so cute.”

Shen Yuan felt the blood rush to his face and wished he had a fan in his hands to use as a weapon when Airplane chuckled.

“Come on, let’s try to figure out how to get back home,” Shang Qinghua said as he moseyed to the desk in the room.

Shen Yuan sighed as he closed and locked the door.

BONUS:

SY: I thought you said you were a broke university student who wrote to make sure food was on the table.

SQH: Yeah, dude. I’m working on my dissertation. Writing pays the bills.

SY: YOU’RE GETTING YOUR DOCTORATES?????

SQH: Yeah, in Topology.

SY: YOU’RE GETTING YOUR DOCTORATES IN MATHS?????

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what if shen twins but they're more gremlin coded (they're each other's enabler)

SJ : let's see if they cry in public. I want their shame to pass down at least three generations.

SY : done. god, i love it when we collaborate.

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six balls slice of life fic when

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qijiu have it all. they're everything. inexplicably codependent coworkers. divorced exes who've never kissed. the only gay people they know. doomed by the narrative. red string of fate turned garotte for them both. masochist4masochist. the kind of kinky that makes sex completely incomprehensible. would both cry if they held hands. fantasize about killing or being killed by the other. "anything for them"/"anything from them". not platonic not romantic not friends and not fucking: something worse. ruining the PTA meeting. this entire sect is the third wheel in their horrible marriage. findom that doesn't want your money/deer that desperately wants to be run over. caretaker4caretaker. I would kill everyone in this room before I let them lay a hand on you. you'll die for me (threat). you'll die for me (promise). you'll die for me (prophecy). they invented gay sex. they're both virgins. area of effect t4t psychic damage. NOTHING compares.

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there could be an interesting parallel found in Yue Qingyuan and Tianlung-jun.

Specifically in how they were both sealed.

Bai Lu Mountain, the Lingxi Caves.

I find it interesting how both the sealed character's stories have big plot points of there being perceived abandonment/betrayal.

It's like their sealings were the physical embodiment of being kept from reunion by the narrative

and both Tianlung-jun and Yue Qingyuan aren't given a chance to reconcile with their person because of a narrative death, at least.

Death from childbirth/poison in the case of Su Xiyan, and the og Shen Qingqiu's lack of true presence in the narrative, though his lingering touch is definitely felt.

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thinking about a qijiu au where Yue Qingyuan dies.

perhaps it is Xuan Su, eating away at his soul.

a fatal mistake perhaps, a mission gone wrong.

Either way, Yue Qingyuan is dead.

Cang Qiong is left leaderless in the aftermath, their uniting banner laid to rest beneath the ground.

I'm thinking about a Shen Jiu, who's forced to lead Cang Qiong in the wake of Yue Qingyuan's death. In the same intake of breath Shen Qingqiu has to bury Yue Qingyuan, and take the mantle of leader upon himself.

His grief would be private, aired out in the silence of an office expecting a different man. It would find purchase in the way untouched records spoke of a man full, of compassion, humanity, justice. Of a man who rose above critical failure, to ascendancy. Only to be snuffed out too soon.

Grief would accompany Shen Qingqiu as he learned the shape of the gaping hole Yue Qingyuan left behind.

Eleven seats, eleven Peak Lords.

There would be an anger inside Shen Qingqiu, that instead of having Yue Qingyuan himself, he instead learned the way the world looked from the head.

That he would be closer to Yue Qingyuan than they'd ever managed to be, and it would be because Yue Qingyuan was not there at all.

I think about Shen Qingqiu reading the accounts of all the previous Sect Heads for guidance, and learning of Yue Qingyuan's sealing inside of the Lingxi Caves.

A Shen Qingqiu tempered by grief.

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shizunfucking is all well and good but disciple slaying always makes me so much crazier. for you as a shifu to look at the disciples you’ve raised since they and you were just kids, the ones you’ve entrusted with your lifetime of skill and study, the ones responsible for the survival of all the traditions passed to you, and say yeah it’s time to pack it up. soberly and in cold blood. it’s time for all of this to end. every single time i lose it for that

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You break me

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im so not normal about them.....

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Shen [Yuan] Qingqiu's default hairstyle really should be the Dead Anime Mom low side pony, it just suits his whole. him.

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Liu Qingge wising up to the fact that dead animals is not the way to the heart and dragging out his rusty drawing skills from when Mingyan would make him draw pictures to go with her stories

let's just say the rare beast illustrations done by hand as a gift for the qing jing peak lord uh. gets things going

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