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  1. Rec *

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    Lan Zhan’s features are smooth. He has a hand behind his back, as usual, and when he’s a few paces away he stops. He always could execute a perfect bow, the angles of his body textbook.

    “Hi,” Wei Wuxian says stupidly.

    Lan Zhan straightens. He doesn’t blink as he says, “Wei Wuxian.” His eyebrows make the barest arc upward. “What is the nature of your visit?”

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    19 Oct 2020

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    A flurry of white robes, and Wei Wuxian’s attention snaps to. His face splits into a grin so fast his jaw hurts, but it doesn’t matter. “Lan Zhan!” he calls. He lifts a hand in a stupid little wave, bouncing onto the balls of his feet.

    Lan Zhan draws closer. The golden sun catches on the tower of silver ornaments keeping his hair in place.

    Wei Wuxian can’t stop smiling. “Lan Zhan,” he says again. He drops Little Apple’s reins, impatient, and steps forward.

    Lan Zhan’s features are smooth. He has a hand behind his back, as usual, and when he’s a few paces away he stops. He always could execute a perfect bow, the angles of his body textbook.

    “Hi,” Wei Wuxian says stupidly.

    Lan Zhan straightens. He doesn’t blink as he says, “Wei Wuxian.” His eyebrows make the barest arc upward. “What is the nature of your visit?”

    Wei Wuxian’s insides tighten. His stomach drops, a precipitous fall down the stairs and to the bottom of the mountain. “Ah.” He clears his throat. “I… well, I guess I’m here to see you.”

    The words seem to glance off Lan Zhan like he’s the glassy surface of Biling Lake and Wei Wuxian is a weightless insect. “Hm,” he says. His gaze flicks to the side, toward Little Apple. “We can provide for your mount.” He looks back to Wei Wuxian, blank. “Quarters will be arranged for you as well. Wait here.”

    In a second grand sweep of robes, Lan Zhan is leaving. Wei Wuxian starts to say something, but his mouth opens on empty air. “Oh,” he says finally, the words very small and bitter as they crawl out of his throat.

  2. Rec 74

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    Wei Ying’s expression cracks into a grin. He shifts closer yet. “I wish I could have haunted you,” he says, “just a little bit. Just to see how you were. Just to make sure you didn’t forget me.”

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    19 Oct 2020

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    HOW THRILLED AM I THAT PERIDIUM IS NOW IN MY NEW FANDOM

    “Help,” Wei Ying says, his hands at the arrangement of pins and ties that prop up Lan Wangji’s hair ornamentation. Petulant, Wei Ying tugs at the most anterior of them. “These are ridiculous,” he says. His expression would be childish if not for the glint in his gaze that Lan Wangji recognizes from the rooftops of Nightless City.

    Lan Wangji doesn’t dignify that with a response. He does, though, take Wei Ying by the wrists, set Wei Ying’s hands aside, and reach up to assist in the process. It’s a series of quick motions for him: loosen, pull with care, loosen once more, and then everything comes undone at once and his hair is free. For good measure, he undoes the tie that keeps the last of it held back. He sets it all aside at once, the silver clinking against the tabletop and half the pins clattering to the floor.

    Wei Ying whistles lowly, his lips reddened. “Lan Zhan,” he says with glee, “how wanton.” He twirls a lock of Lan Wangji’s hair around his finger.

  3. Rec 70

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    It still doesn’t feel real that they’re all by themselves without any cameras or managers trailing their every step. Neither of them are supposed to be here. Yibo should be in Changsha, finishing a recording for Day Day Up, and Xiao Zhan should be in Beijing preparing for a new song release. If their fans got any hint of this, they would be trending in seconds, everyone demanding to know why they were at the airport together and what to do about the rest of their schedule.

    Luckily, they don’t have to worry about that.

     

    or: Xiao Zhan and Yibo go on vacation.

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    16 Oct 2020

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    I literally just finished writing a vacation fic and yet here I am WOLFING this down like there's NO TOMORROW, it's SO GOOD.

    "Xiao Zhan hasn’t wanted anyone so badly since… ever. He wants Yibo so much that it’s all he knows. He wants the Yibo that glows under the stage lights, the one that rips around the track in seconds and moves like he was born to do it. He wants the Yibo that snores in bed, the one that always forgets to put his mug back in the sink and puts way too much vinegar in his food. He wants the Yibo that’s normally reticent but doesn’t know how to shut up when it comes to his interests. The Yibo who’s always there, rock steady, when Xiao Zhan falls."

  4. Rec *

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    "Just stay. You don't have to tell me what I did wrong and you don't even have to forgive me, but don't leave while you're still mad at me." He swallows and admits, "I don't know when I'll see you again. I can't have you remembering me and thinking, Ah, fuck that guy anyway."

    "Wei Ying," Lan WangJi says, stricken.

    "I'm not trying to guilt you," Wei WuXian insists. "I'm just being practical. When this is all over, I want you to think well of me, Hanguang-Jun."

    "Lan Zhan," Lan WangJi corrects him, still staring.

    --

    Lan WangJi gets bullied into staying the night in Yiling after all.

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    16 Oct 2020

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    Many years ago, shortly after their mother died, his brother had asked him where all his words had gone. He had never been a talkative child, but as month after month passed and no one let him into the gentian house, he had become silent-silent, folded into himself like a paper doll. His uncle hadn't understood at all, thought he was shy now, or broken; but XiChen had known, in that way he has, that there was something else happening. So he asked Lan WangJi where he thought all his words went.

    Lan WangJi had sat there, thinking, for a long time. He knew, of course, exactly what had happened to him; the trouble was he couldn't think how to explain it without words. At last he had taken XiChen by the hand and walked with him out of the Cloud Recesses and down into Gusu, all the way to a vendor selling fine rainbow pinwheels. He picked up a pinwheel and pointed to each fin in turn: red, purple, blue, green, and so on. After each color he pointed to his brother's heart and then to his throat, meaning, You can talk in this color. "That's me talking?" XiChen had guessed, and Lan WangJi had nodded. Then he pointed to each color and then to his own heart and his own throat, and XiChen had said, "That's you talking," and he nodded again.

    Then he hit the pinwheel so it spun so fast that the rainbow fins turned white in their speed, and he pointed to his throat and shook his head, and XiChen had understood.

    He's spinning now, with Wei WuXian above him sucking bruising kisses into his throat.

  5. Rec *

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    Lan Zhan does not like his new roommate. He is not attracted to his new roommate. And he definitely, absolutely does not have feelings for his new roommate.

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    04 Oct 2020

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    Wei Ying glanced from the mug, to Lan Zhan’s face, back to the mug, confused and appalled like that one gif of Ryan Gosling. Finally Wei Ying took it and said, “Thanks.”

    “What,” Lan Zhan began, and had to pause to work his jaw, which was locking up at the thought of asking what he wanted to ask. “Is,” he managed.

    Wei Ying blew innocently at the tea. “You can do it, buddy.”

    “Wrong,” Lan Zhan concluded.

    “There you go.”

    Lan Zhan leaned back against the couch, exhausted from what was likely the most emotional labor he had ever performed. He had been expecting Wei Ying, like any normal person, to brush him off and say, “It’s nothing,” or, “I’m fine.” But no, Wei Ying launched into a story about receiving “bullshit feedback” on his latest design from a professor who “hates me, personally, for who I am, as a person.”

    At the ten-minute mark, Lan Zhan began to regret his brief foray into compassion.

    *****

    It always started the same: “Lan Zhan,” Wei Ying would say, in italics, followed by a seemingly innocuous demand. Rub my shoulders. Scratch my back. Comb my hair. Hold my hand. Pick me up and snap my spine like a glow stick.

    “Crush me, Lan Zhan,” Wei Ying said, spread out on the floor like a handsome starfish. “Flatten me like a panini.”

    Lan Zhan did as he was told, lest he encounter the pout again. He settled on top of Wei Ying, and Wei Ying made his happy noise.

    “This is very good,” Wei Ying said, strained. “I needed this.”

    Lan Zhan did not ask questions.