It Takes Approximately 12 Minutes To Empty One Side Of You Flip It. I Timed It.

The Shen Yuan who in his modern world is a serious and respected fantasy writer with a fairly large fanbase and film and television adaptations of his works, an adult entering his fifties, grey-haired and wearing his long hair in a half ponytail, who is attending a good therapist to deal with all that repressed homosexuality, with an ex-wife who supports him from a distance (distance like, another city an hour or two away by train or something, she had a lot of Shen Yuan in her life), and two teenage children aged fifteen and seventeen who live at home until they finish school and are old enough to go live with their mother, and an older daughter in her twenties who already lives with her.

In fact, reading PIDW was just a stupid distraction about ten years ago when he was entering his forties and going through his divorce, and even though randomly some silly and ridiculous thing from that webnovel pops into his head without paying rent, he doesn't think about it too much.

And one day, he sees Luo Binghe.

Well, it's clearly Luo Binghe. PIDW was a huge success, with physical books, live action adaptations, and international translations. Of course, ten years after from the highest peak of fame of the novel, there would be some fans cosplaying him. However...

Well, he's seen a lot of cosplay in his life. He's seen the beginnings of cosplay when the internet was still a piece of shit with telephone wires. He is actually familiar with seams and costumes and the artificial shine of wigs.

Nothing he sees in front of him looks like cheap cosplay. And the boy, Luo Binghe, beautiful as only words could describe, is staring at him.

"Can I help you?" Shen Yuan asks, because despite everything, he is a kind man in the accommodated neighborhood who has raised his children.

And "Luo Binghe" looks at him with the strangest expression in the world.

"This Lord is looking for someone," the cosplayer says. "Can this man let this Lord know where the Shen family home is, by any chance?"

Shen Yuan feels an unpleasant chill.

“Why do you ask?” he says, however. And the Luo Binghe in front of him just smiles.

"Oh, this one is just looking for someone who owes this Lord a debt."

Shen Yuan hopes there are more Shen families in his fucking neighborhood or for heaven's sake none of his bratty kids have gotten into trouble with cosplay gangsters. Thanks.

“We keep working. Because that’s what we do.”

“It’s good to hear you talking like that again.”

And guess what? He reason our previously angry, violent, faithless, pessimistic, grieving Dean has done almost a 180 is because Cas is back. That’s all, and no one can argue the contrary. CAS IS DEAN’s FAITH AND THE ONE RESPONSIBLE FOR HIS RENEWED HOPE.

But he’s gonna lose it when he can’t get a hold of Cas and then realize what has happened to him.

tried 2 come up w a reasonable cumplane situationship scenario and this happened

Shang Qinghua: That's right, I'm a cut-sleeve. And in case you haven't noticed, so is Shen Qingqiu.

Shen Qingqiu: What??? I'm not a cut-sleeve.

Shang Qinghua: Haha, what're you talking about, you took me to that dual cultivation tavern.

Shen Qingqiu: So? They sold neat talismans!

Shang Qinghua: What about our trip to the Everlasting Hearts Cave then?

Shen Qingqiu: I wanted to see the Blooming Love Birds during nesting season!

Shang Qinghua: B-but... you made love to me--

Shen Qinghua: Okay, first of all, you landed face first into a sex pollen plant--

Shen Qingqiu is kinda proficient at guqin now right? I dont remember how but muscle memory or something??

Do you think he could... recreate modern songs that he knows? 🤔

"I have... realized," Shen Qingqiu said, "that you technically indirectly killed dozens of teenagers. At the Immortal Alliance Conference." He glanced at his friend from the corner of his eye. The office had been quiet before then, though Shen Qingqiu's thoughts had been heavy with contemplation.

Shang Qinghua lifted his head from his paperwork to look at the other, eyes half-lidded and slightly dull. "It's so kind of Shen-shixiong to have realized this. It only took a few months after the Conference had already ended."

"...don't you feel guilty?"

"What is there to feel guilt about?" Shang Qinghua said nothing else, and when Shen Qingqiu did nothing but frown back at him, he went back to signing various forms. In the silence that followed, he sighed and continued, "Listen, I'm not a necessarily a good person. I'm selfish, and I want to live. If I have to choose between myself and random characters that I don't know, then I'll always choose myself."

Shen Qingqiu stared at him, before looking down at his lap, where one of his friend's written works lay in a scroll. Most of the other's writings that he had gotten to read were far better than the trash his web novel had devolved into, more comparable in quality to the early PIDW chapters. He was excited to read this one, but he hadn't opened it yet. "I wasn't saying it to condemn you. After all, I want to live, too." He shifted. "So, I guess I'm not a good person, either."

The An Ding Peak Lord immediately shook his head. "No, unlike me, you are a good person--"

"If I were a better person, I would've taken the point deduction and allowed myself to die at the edge of that Endless Abyss than do what I did."

Silence permeated the room. Shang Qinghua kept his eyes on his forms, though his hands remained still, while Shen Qingqiu continued to stare down at the scroll in his lap.

Finally, Shang Qinghua let out a dry laugh and put down his paperwork to pinch at the bridge of his nose. "Shen-shixiong, you sometimes irritate me, you know?" His voice was light, but there was something else in it, a barely noticeable tremor that made Shen Qingqiu look up. "You say these things, but you're sitting here, agonizing over the choices you've made to keep yourself alive. What does that say about you?"

What does it say about me, that I don't do the same? Shen Qingqiu sighed, fingers tightening around the edge of the scroll. "It says that I still have to live with it, the choice that I made."

"Then why are we even having this conversation? We both made our choices, and guilt or not, we're both still here, aren't we? Why think about it any further?"

Shen Qingqiu studied his friend, eyes tracing the exhausted droop of his eyes, the way tension clung to his slumped shoulders, despite his upright position. He had spent weeks turning it over in his head, wondering how his friend could stand the stain of blood on his hands, even if it meant that he got to live. But hadn't Shen Qingqiu done the exact same thing?

"Because it bothers you," Shen Qingqiu finally said. "Even if you say it doesn't."

Shang Qinghua scoffed and picked his brush back up, the black ink having already smeared all over his latest form. It would need to be discarded. "Don't make me laugh. I'm not some sort of anti-hero. I just know better than to waste time brooding over something I can't change. If it ever starts bothering me too much, I just tell myself that they were all meant to die, anyway."

"That's a bit cold, shidi."

"Don't try to pretend that you don't do the same mental gymnastics. You're just not as good at it as I am."

Shen Qingqiu couldn't argue with that. Sometimes, the world felt too real, and then not real enough. Shen Qingqiu would hear someone laugh, or taste a brilliantly seasoned dish, and everything felt too much and it all exploded before it turned dim. He would no longer be quite inside his body, and he would notice for the first time, again and again, how nothing was ever quite real.

It was a story. That's all it was. It was all just a story.

Shang Qinghua watched him for a moment, then sighed. "Shen-shixiong, if you ever figure out how to balance staying alive with being a good person, let me know."

"Oh?" Shen Qingqiu finally unrolled the scroll he had been holding for some time now. "And what would that accomplish?"

"Maybe then I’d consider feeling guilty."

I will legit read fanfics anywhere. Home, school, funerals and weddings. Anywhere.  Do you know how many close calls I’ve had by now? I'll be reading slash and I'm on an innocent part and my mom just rips my phone out of my hand, read it, then give it back. I just go into a panic because if she had scrolled just a little bit further...

people who read fanfiction in public are underrated heroes

Shen Yuan is actually a cuddle bug. Had a ton of Luo Binghe body pillows back home not just for the merch reasons but because he needs something in his bed to squeeze when he's sleeping.

Since he started having weekly planning (boozing and bitching) sessions with Shang Qinghua, he sometimes accidentally sleeps over. After he's finished his paperwork and started on some of Qinghua's, sometimes the wine gets to him and he's just so sleepy. Or, sometimes, Shang Qinghua will let the other read some of the short stories he had written early on in his transmigration when fighting to not lose his mind. Shen Yuan would critique them, before harassing him to publish them anonymously.

("Oh, so you are capable of writing more than papapa trash."

"Aw, you like it?" "...it's good." 🙄)

But by the time he finished them, it would be so late, and it didn't make much sense to leave when a bed was right there. And Shang Qinghua had custom ordered goose feather pillows and blankets, which was so unlike his porcelain pillows, and Shang Qinghua himself is right there. Therefore. The man himself becomes his new object of comfort when asleep.

At first, Shang Qinghua used to just wave it off. Then he started to playfully complain and tease about how clingy Shen Yuan was in his sleep, and Shen Yuan would grumble and turn bright red and turn his back on him... only for them to wake up with Shen Yuan basically curled around the other like an octopus in the morning. And then it just became normal because, of course, they really only had each other, so like why not? It brought them both comfort and two people could totally cuddle platonically.

Before long, more than half the week, Shen Yuan was spending the night over, and some rare times, Shang Qinghua goes to the bamboo house. Shang Qinghua learns when to give up his piles of paperwork when his friend starts getting tired and to get more fucking rest himself. Otherwise, Shen Yuan will just walk in, curl up on his lap with his head resting on Shang Qinghua's shoulder, and fall asleep there.

("Really? I ordered those extra stuffed pillows for you, you know. Go to bed, I'll be done in a minute."

"Ugh, shut up, sleeping isn't the same when you're out here ordering new fighting posts for Bai Zhan Peak for the 5th time this month. I'll just wait here for you to finish."

"In my lap...? That's kinda gay--" 😏

"Qinghua."

"Shutting up and finishing the work." )

Those of An Ding Peak, being the peak that was basically the backbone of the entire sect and kept it running through sweat, blood, and some other bodily fluids, knew how to keep secrets from other peaks. You don't become a disciple there without knowing how to keep your mouth shut when outsiders are around. But between each other, whispers abound.

"I don't think Shen-shibo has left in two days," one disciple murmurs to another when they see Shen Qingqiu flouncing around yet again, ordering one of the disciples to bring some two small meals to their Shifu's rooms for a late dinner.

"Do you think they're... you know?" Another asks quietly after delivering some new contracts to their Shifu. The door to his bedroom had been slightly ajar, and through the cracks, green leaf-pattern outer robes were on the ground.

("I'm not sleeping in these, okay! You should have written in pajamas while you were busy adding in chocolate, and whatever else doesn't exist in Ancient China, to PIDW!" 😒

"Oh my god, just sleep in your inner robes, then! Better yet, borrow some of my clothes. But you're sure as fuck not sleeping naked on my silk sheets, bro!")

The disciples on Qing Jing Peak certainly notice when the bamboo hut isn't occupied for the night. At first, they just thought that their Shizun was extra silent in his house now, but once, Ming Fan had to go to Shizun for a small issue late in the evening, and he wasn't there. Nor was he there the next night, or the next. They're not sure where he is, or what he's doing, but he's always there in the morning, so they don't worry too much.

On the fourth night, Shizun was home, but Shang-shishu was also there. And... stayed there. The lights went out, and the disciples who were sent out to spy came back and reported that Shang-shishu had never left.

("He... is Shang-shishu still in there?"

"I think so. M-maybe he stayed in the extra bedroom?"

"..." 👀

"..." 👀)

The disciples eye each other and simultaneously agree to never let those outside the peak know about this. When crossing paths with A Ding disciples, there are discreet looks and nods of understanding, and they pass each other by with not a word.

(Shen Qingqiu and Shang Qinghua?)

----

One bright and sunny morning, Liu Qingge slams his way into Shang Qinghua's office. He is followed by Mu Qingfang, and Yue Qingyuan, all needing to speak with Shang Qingqua to figure out Shen Qingqiu's whereabouts. He wasn't in his bamboo hut this morning, nor was he anywhere else that he typically frequented.

Mu Qingfang because it was time for his bimonthly check-up to ensure that his treatments with Liu Qingge were progressing as they should. Yue Qingyuan due to peak matters (though, technically, he could do it on his own, but if he got to see Xiao Jiu--). Liu Qingge because the beast that he had dropped on his doorstep yesterday afternoon had yet to be removed, which was odd. And also, he had ordered new fighting posts a week ago, and usually they would have been delivered by now, which was also odd.

Wei Qingwei and Qi Qingqi also follow along because they could smell drama. And also they were a tiny bit worried about their shixiong. Whenever he disappeared for too long, it was likely that he had gotten kidnapped or poisoned. Again.

Shang Qinghua scrambles out of his bed chambers with hastily thrown-on outer robes, blurry-eyed, screaming "Whoosit!?" He barely has time to open his mouth before he is instantly bombarded with several requests, most of them pertaining to the apparent missing peak lord. Liu Qingge also asks about his fighting posts, which Shang Qinghua pretends not to hear.

"We've not seen him in a few days," Mu Qingfang says to him over the noise, with an apologetic smile for waking up his overworked shixiong. "I know you two are somewhat friends, so if you see him soon, please tell him he really needs to come to Qian Cao for his next physical."

"Wait, who's missing? Ah, please don't touch that." The last part is directed at Qi Qingqi, who is combing through his shelves. "Shen Qingqiu is apparently missing, according to this bunch," Qi Qingqi says, smirking at him. She pokes the figurine he told her not to touch. Oh well, she'll realize why he told her not to touch it soon enough.

"Shen Qingqiu? What do you mean, he's--" Shang Qinghua instantly closes his mouth, hoping that no one heard that. "I-I mean, yeah, I'll let you guys know if he stops by! No problem, will absolutely send him your way--" "What was that?" Liu Qingge narrows his eyes at him. "You were about to say something. You know where he is. Tell me."

Shang Qinghua begins to sweat immediately. "Whaaat? No, you must have heard wrong. Seriously, I'll let you guys know if I catch him. Now, if you guys can be on your way--" He starts trying to herd people out.

Unbeknownst to him, his bedroom door cracks open and a figure, eyes barely open, shuffles out and heads towards him. Wei Qingwei, idling in the office, is the first to notice the person wearing another set of An Ding Blue outer robes over soft Qing Jing Green inner ones. His jaw drops.

"Qinghua?" A soft, sleepy voice murmurs in his ear, arms circling around his waist and a head laying on his shoulder from behind. "It's too early, come back to bed." A small yawn.

Shang Qinghua can feel himself freeze with a nervous smile on his face.

Shit.

Leelah Alcorn’s blog was deleted and posts about her are being removed. Don’t stop spreading this. Reblog everything you can, post everything you can. 

These are her pictures

here are some of her drawings

this is her note

Don’t let this die.

Not this.

A section of the Berlin Wall, raised in 1961 and knocked down in 1989. Taken on July 7, 2018. (at Newseum) https://www.instagram.com/p/BoZDHvUHlzR/?utm_source=ig_tumblr_share&igshid=9m07siqle0rc