DivideTheSorrow



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    Wei Wuxian seemed surprised when Lan Wangji asked him for a moment to talk, even more so when he revealed the reason. Frankly, he appeared to be on the verge of laughing.

    “So, Jin Zixuan wants to get along with me...”

    Lan Wangji nodded.

    “And sent you as the middle-man…”

    Lan Wangji nodded.

    “Because he thinks we get along?”

    Lan Wangji nodded, a little at loss himself.

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    06 Nov 2020

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    "Lan Zhan!” Wuxian exclaims as soon as the door to Lan Wangji's apartment opens. “Fake-date me!”

    The door slams shut in his face.


    or, The Best Laid Plans of Wei Wuxian.
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    05 Nov 2020

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    There is very little Lan Wangji will not do for Wei Wuxian. It is time the world learns that.

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    25 Oct 2020

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    To say that he runs to his car would be incorrect, as he is a Lan, and running is both undignified and unnecessary unless in immediate danger. Nor does he slam his key into the ignition, or aggressively swerve around the cars on the freeway, or have a mild panic attack at the fact he is picking A-Yuan up late from school for the first time ever.

    He comes close, though.

    By the time he arrives, it’s 4:35PM, and he has imagined about fifty different worse-case scenarios. The door is partly open when he gets to it, a messy label of 104B—Art Room scrawled with chalk on a placard next to the faded wood. As he opens it fully, he expects to see a wailing, terrified child, or perhaps a scene of utter misery and betrayal.

    What he finds is his son, hands covered in paint, being sung to by a beautiful, dark-haired stranger.

    “Ducks live in the pond, yellow ducks, happy ducks!”

    Lan Wangji stops in his tracks.
     

    (Or: Falling in love with your son’s art teacher, in five parts)

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    24 Oct 2020

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    He studied the flower for a short second. It was very pretty—beautiful, even. A pale, calming blue orchid, with a tender green stem. It looked fragile between his long fingers.

    “You don’t like it, do you?” Wei Ying said. More like a pout, the way his big, dark eyes went round, and his mouth shaped around his words, chin tipped low. Again—grown ass man, in jeans, unspeakably cute—how?

    Lan Zhan, feeling cold all over, spoke one word at a time. “What is it for?”

    Wei Ying seemed to sparkle at that, a skip to his step. “Don’t you know, Lan Zhan? It’s the first today. Namesake day. Made me think of you, so I got you that. What’s more perfect, right—a blue orchid? Anyway, why don’t we go grab dinner together? Drinks on me,” he said, and winked.

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    16 Sep 2020