updated: i made a plots page !!!! also added a few more prompts .... i’m a little slow with im’s and such but i’m gonna be catching up to y’all soon, i just get quite overwhelmed by the amount of ppl ㅠㅠ i’m still very much open to plotting though, so feel free to hmu anytime ♡
we thought it was about time to unleash a meme upon the dash! use this opportunity to have fun with your muses, but also to develop them and create new relationships and ideas with others! also, please don’t forget to send some symbols out if you reblog this post. let’s make sure that no one feels like the odd one out and we include everyone on the fun!
we’ll allow everyone to reblog this until december 6th, three weeks so that new members can join in as well. afterwards you are no longer allowed to reblog, but you can continue to answer if you like! ( and yes, you can send multiple symbols in a message! )
“you look the same.” his skin tingles from where there had been the brief brush of fingers against his wrist that now settled on his sleeve, and he bites his tongue. “are you following me, or something?”
case two: unstoppable force meets immovable object, again.
there is a stark difference between the past and the present; like a deep rift, a rupture. though, for yibo, there kind of is. the rift is the space between him and xiaoli; it’s the years that separate the memory of what they were then and this moment, what they are now. the bitterness of the truth sinks in.
i’m a little taller than 哥哥 now, is what he wants to say, but doesn’t. instead, he merely lets go of the sleeve he was still holding, his hand returning to his side but changing directions midway, finding its way to scratch the back of his neck. yibo flashes an awkward almost smile that doesn’t have the strenght to reach his eyes. “ah…” he laughs, nervous; he suddenly feels small next to xiaoli. “no... ”
time does its thing. it keeps tick tick ticking away, and if you aren’t moving along, you’ll fall behind. it’s the same with people, connections, promises. when time was still kind, they were making promises, memories. they were making these things, until they weren’t. xiaoli didn’t just gradually fade away— one moment, he was there; then, he wasn’t. yibo was left biting the dust he left behind, and while he was trying to pick up the pieces his absence left, time didn’t stop to wait for him. simply tick tick ticking away.
the past flashes by his eyes in fragments. the xiaoli in front of him doesn’t quite match with the one in his memories. this, he should have known to expect. but he was chasing a chance. and even if he wasn’t, he still wouldn’t have known how to prepare for the reunion.
yibo lowers his gaze and looks down at his feet, feeling slightly bashful. then he shrugs, wets his lower lip. “i saw you passing by chance.” stuffs his hands into the pockets of his hoodie, doesn’t know what else to do with them. it’s the first piece of clothing he had at hand after practice that he just pulled over his head in his haste. silence stretches— it feels uncomfortable. unsaid things, unasked questions; there are lots of them, and they are sitting, shifting heavy on his tongue. however, the timing doesn’t feel quite right. but he has to start somewhere, right? otherwise they aren’t going anywhere.
“didn’t know you attended seongnam, too.” (how could he have?) “what are the chances, huh?”
autumn breeze caresses his cheeks, the wheels rolling against the pavement as he slides through the streets, dodges the occasional people passing by. he can read the disdain in some of their faces when he zooms past them, only flashing them lopsided half smiles in lieu of halfhearted apologies.
on the road ahead, yibo spots a familiar figure; tall and a mess of dark hair.
he comes to a halt a few meters away, hops down and stomps the skateboard up to catch it, fingers wrapping around one wheel in one swift motion. he almost loses his grip and drops it while throwing it under one arm for better handling, but only almost. he has gotten fairly better at handling his belongings by now, honing his reflexes by catching falling phones, controllers, books, tableware. with how fast he sometimes moves, there is no wonder that things usually end up flying. (and broken, yeah, that still happens. quite frequently actually, who is he kidding.)
yibo jogs a few steps to catch the person, a brilliant idea popping in his head as he approaches. a self-indulgent smile stretches across his lips. there are no second thoughts, no regrets. instead of shouting out a greeting like people usually do... he just goes and gives the person a good hefty smack.
hours have already shifted deeper into the night by the time yibo finds himself back at the dorms. oil licked, slightly smudged in grease and admittedly, both exhausted and still slightly pissed off. on nights like these, he forgos his academic responsibilities and trades them for cramped spaces underneath motor vehicles, and it’s like the closest thing to the feeling of home.
tonight though, work had been less liberating and more headache inducing. customers, tight-lipped and breathing down his neck, eyes scrutinizing. but when they do open their mouths, they bleed near ridiculous demands filled with ill-concealed scorn. he learns to pay them no heed and absorbs a facade of unbothered ataraxia. yet even then, stupidity is like a constantly pulsating vein on his forehead.
pulled out of his thoughts by the sweet smell drifting in the air and the only source of light illuminating otherwise dark dorm floor, yibo stops on his tracks, the curiosity and emptiness of his stomach prompting him to approach the kitchen. the light is a little too bright and the figure in the middle of the room, both a stranger and an acquaintance–- sort of. but not really. still more a stranger than anything else, which is why his presence here and now, is rather questionable.
“ah!” he exclaims, surprised and confused at the same time. “you...” he hesitates. traces back his steps; there is no possibility for him to have entered the wrong building. seongnam is still like a corn maze during nightfall, but his sense of direction can’t be that bad. “what are y o u doing here?”
remorse is a violent dyspepsia of the mind, but it is very difficult to treat because it cannot even be defined / because everything is not gold that glisters and everything is not a tear that glistens » a starter for @sgnxiaoli
absence manifests itself in several ways.
whilst some blank spaces get filled with time, people and new memories–- like time healing old wounds. then there are those apertures that are like constant voids: like nothingness in a shape of a person. it is said that memories grow sweeter with time, perhaps–- but some tend to grow edges as sharp as knives. yibo has a fair share of memories like those on his own, but some things cannot simply be categorised. some are plainly just those: memories.
seoul is not beijing, and seoul isn’t luoyang either, but sometimes he thinks that he catches glimpses of him; a familiar face in the crowd. but before he realises it–- before he could reach out his hand, he seems to slip through the crevices of his fingers like sand, and yibo is left with only dust in his grasp. during these times, he isn’t completely certain if he had just mistaken another head of brown hair to a picture of xiaoli he has in his head. it’s been years, after all.
this time, though, he is chasing a chance. both foreign and familiar at the same time, as if it was something the mind had forgotten, but the skin still remembered. however, there was no chance for yibo to have forgotten, even if they aren’t fourteen and naive anymore.
the first time, it’s like only his lips are moving, no sound coming out. panics, few syllables messily pieced together in accented korean. “wait!” and he reaches his hand, almost afraid that if he didn’t hurry, xiaoli would be gone already, and yibo would have another handful of nothing to hold.
“xiao-ge?” there is nothing more natural as the old name slipping between his lips in his native language, but it’s tasting both homely and distant and bitter. he kind of hates how his voice seems to break when he calls him brother, how his grip on xiaoli’s sleeve is nothing if not careful and hesitant. and he is suddenly at a loss for words. throat dry and his tongue tied. there are lots of things yibo wants to say, things he has to say but what he finally manages is neither of those but a relieved confession. “i knew it was you.”
‘ello! i’m sera, residing in eet aka gmt+2, online during odd hours, fulltime dumb, a disastrous adult–- i haven’t been a part of a tumblr rp in literally ages omg i’m very nervous but also vvvery excited!! anyway, yibo’s about page is here, but i’ve also added some extras and general plot ideas and such under the cut ( aka i rly tried ajdhfbdf ...) and if you’d like to plot, hit that like button! also getting back to everyone's messages soon, slowpoke style :’)))) ♡
he remembers his life in fragments: luoyang, beijing, seoul
had quite an ordinary childhood; mom was strict with his upbringing whilst dad was more like the opposite
gave his parents a lot of worry lines and headaches
adventurous but clumsy kid, dedicated teenager, disastrous young adult
who says cereal isn’t actual food, i just had a bowl for dinner
likes to eat, can’t cook
may look like he’s angry or indifferent most of the time but is actually a cinnamon roll, a little piece of shit
really uncomfortable / awkward in situations he isn’t used to or when he doesn’t know what to do
not a good person to ask serious advice from, really. need to attend a dinner party but don’t want to? fake your death
will definitely fake clueless foreigner to get out of situations
shows affection by good-natured bullying
would call you oppa just to mess with you ( he has no shame )
but actually easily flustered!!!
uuuuhh–-
plot ideas / connections ( honestly idek.... )
you help him improve his korean and in return he helps you with chinese ( aka yibo being the lil shit that he is, keeps teaching you wrong the first time )
double trouble aka 1/2 of the dumb duo aka a close friend / best friend
customers at the car repair shop he works at
friends / acquaintances / classmates / sports team members etc
people who don’t like him / people he doesn’t like / mutual dislike
prompts, can also be used as a base for plotting and / or connections ( all of these can be altered to fit our muses!! )
‘ i know i keep coming to the cookie shop ( or any shop / cafe!!! ) and for some reason it’s always your shift but don’t you dare judge me i need these for my sanity ‘
‘ it’s 3 am and i’m still in the library studying and i’m losing my grip on reality and i think i just saw a ghost ‘
‘ you’re baking cookies in the communal kitchen at 3 am and i’m angry but also really hungry ‘
‘ i thought you were my friend so i slapped your ass in greeting ‘
‘ i fell asleep on your shoulder and you were too polite to move or wake me up ‘
‘ you’re the jerk barista who purposely screws up my name when i order my caffeine fix ‘
‘ we’re always making stupid bets like ‘bet you can’t drink this whole bottle of bbq sauce’ but then you did and now you’re sick and i feel really bad here let me look after you ‘
‘ is there a reason you never say my name? ‘
‘ leave me to die... no! wait! i was just being dramatic please actually help me ‘
' i don't know who you are but we keep running into each other on the street and getting into screaming arguments over the stupidest things and i'm actually looking forward to our next meeting bc you're annoying as hell but gdi you're hot as fuck and its kind of fun to argue with you '
‘ we started going home together but i was convinced i knew a faster way to your apartment / dorms so we took a wrong turn and now we're lost and drunk and a little cold ‘
“i can’t see anything” “hold on I’ll set something on fire”
am literally up to anything basically, lets just plot aye
dededos
blakekathryn
areudirty
janainaart
snowghoul
