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  1. Rec *

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    Wei Wuxian locks his phone and puts it down, blinks at his ceiling, and picks it up again. The pictures are still there.

    His first thought is that Lan Zhan meant them for someone else. That he just woke up at—he checks the timestamp—6:30 am on a Sunday and decided to go absolute full nuclear seduction option on some poor boy he met on Grindr, who would now be missing out on the best thing to ever happen to him because Wei Wuxian had a bad habit of distracting—of—oh.

    Pieces of last night start to resurface and paste themselves together in his head. He winces.

    Language:
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    03 Mar 2021

    Bookmarker's Notes

    He takes himself in hand and stares at the ceiling. It’s been a while, okay, and obviously thinking about blowjobs gets him going—they’re blowjobs, everyone loves blowjobs. If this furiously nonspecific thinking about blowjobs involves the working of his best friend’s throat, well, that’s just the principle of recency in action.
    -
    “I have a problem,” he says, at the same time that Mianmian says, “There’s something I should tell you.”

    They stare at each other. “You first,” suggests Wei Wuxian.

    “No,” says Mianmian firmly. “No you do not, you are going first because this is like the only time ever you have come to me for help and I am not derailing it with my own thing. Go.”

    “Uh. Okay.” Wei Wuxian takes a breath and squints up at the ceiling. “I have discovered that I really want Lan Zhan to fuck me and I think it’s making me think I’m a girl.”

    He waits. Nothing happens. He looks at Mianmian, whose face is wobbling like she’s trying very hard not to laugh. “I want you to know,” she says, and then coughs a giggle into her fist, “that the only reason I’m not calling Qing-jie and making you repeat that to her is that this is, as I have noted, the only time you have ever come to me for help and I am going to help, even if that is the funniest fucking thing anyone has ever said.”

    “Thank you,” says Wei Wuxian, with dignity.
    -
    "It's not that I don't think I'd be a father," he says, with zero built-up. "The same way I don't really feel like I'm not a guy, or whatever, it's just, like. Sometimes maybe there's an also. A plus." He holds the joint out to Wen Ning without looking at him. "Is that, like. Allowed?"

    "Um," says Wen Ning, taking the joint. "Allowed by who?"

    Wei Wuxian blinks. "Wow," he says. "That is an absolutely beautiful point." He closes his eyes. He can still hear the music filtering from the headphones around Wen Ning’s neck, all intense, erratic drums and incomprehensible screaming. “Crank that shit up."
    -
    But he can feel the perfect, hot-stove daydream of curling up naked in his hotel room with Lan Zhan disintegrating into dust. He can’t keep doing this. Not to Lan Zhan, and not—in Wen Qing’s voice—to himself. The premise this started under, this no-strings-attached sexy exploration, has revealed itself as just as artificial as the local theatre backdrops he did in fact end up painting for no pay the other week. And behind it is the crushing weight of Wei Wuxian’s 27 years of wanting, of demanding too much.

  2. Public Bookmark 49

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    “So what’d you come back for? It’s been ages.”
    “I was hungry,” Lan Zhan replies. Wei Ying laughs.
    “You came all the way back here just because you were hungry?”
    “Mh.”

    Years after his mother's death, Lan Zhan, tired of his life in the city, returns to his childhood home.

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    03 Mar 2021

    Bookmarker's Notes

    “It’s funny, y’know. I used to get in so much trouble for picking the apples when I wasn’t supposed to and now I’m the one in charge.”

    “You would bring them to school.” The local school had shut down before Wei Ying arrived, not enough children to justify keeping it open, but Lan Zhan recalls long bus rides into the next town, Wei Ying dashing up nearly too late and handing out pink-crisp apples in the fall. Lan Huan had been halfway out of the house already, older and eager to see the rest of the world. Lan Zhan had sat at the back of the bus with a beautiful, strange boy who brought him apples and learned the meaning of the word lonely only in its absence.

  3. Rec *

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    Lamplights flicker orange and yellow, stars blinking in and out of sight. If Wei Ying closes his eyes, he can trace the curls of Lan Zhan's eyelashes from memory, map the lines of his palm, tap out the rhythm of his heartbeat.

    or; Being known doesn't feel so scary, Wei Ying thinks, if it means being known by Lan Zhan.

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    03 Mar 2021

    Bookmarker's Notes

    Wei Ying says, “You should go home and rest, Lan Zhan. I didn’t mean to hold you back.”

    “You’re staying?”

    Wei Ying feels his eyes crinkle in a smile. “It’s still early for me. I’m so close to finishing this, Lan Zhan, I can’t just leave. But I promise I’ll be out of here by midnight!”

    “Hm.” Lan Zhan glances over Wei Ying’s papers again, and then out the floor-to-ceiling length windows that look over the city. The skyline glows a cold shade of blue, and the yellow lights of the library blur their reflection in the glass. Suddenly, he asks, “Have you eaten?”

    Wei Ying laughs, breathless and stunned

  4. Public Bookmark 28

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    Too clever for their own good, Wen Qing and Wei Wuxian develop a form of cultivation that could bring an end to the war. It could also bring an end to the world they know.

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    03 Mar 2021

    Bookmarker's Notes

    He tells Wei Wuxian that he forgives him. He reminds Wei Wuxian that they did not ask for the war, and that Wei Wuxian was a child of seventeen when it began: when Wei Wuxian lost nearly everything. Lan Wangji tells Wei Wuxian that truly, there is nothing he need ask forgiveness for. He has never violated the terms or the spirit of the pact he made. It is an accord Lan Wangji finds just. This, to Lan Wangji, is enough.

    Better that all this had never come to pass—but what use is there in wishing for some untried, untested life? Once broken, no one could return the jade-disk intact to Zhao. They are what life has made them, and Lan Wangji loves his husband for rushing up to the brink of what is possible, and decent—and then, with all his cleverness and strength, finding and holding that line.

  5. Public Bookmark 16

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    “Wei Ying,” Lan Zhan says, soft and familiar. Only one other person has said his name like that, like honey dripping from honeycomb on a warm summer’s day, golden, glimmering. Like there’s something sweet between each letter, something secret.

    or; Wei Ying isn't quite sure how to exist in a world without Jiang Yanli. He's not sure he wants to.

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    03 Mar 2021

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