Import

One very hot guy has been coming by for weeks now and bartender Andrew would very much like to get to know him for purely physical reasons.

“If only one could root one’s self in here among the grass and stones and do something worth doing” —Gaudy Night, Dorothy L. Sayers

 

"So, what sort of inquiry takes four people to conduct?" Wen Qing asked, when they were seated.

 

To her surprise, the others looked to Jiang Cheng, who met her gaze for the first time. He looked sharper than she remembered, as if grief and his change in station had honed his edges.

 

"The others are here as witnesses. I'm here with a proposal." He took a deep breath and carefully clasped his hands on the table between them.

 

In the aftermath of the Sunshot Campaign, Jiang Cheng offers the Wens another choice.

“Why did you tell him our cat was named Wik?” Khun demands, rolling his eyes. “Did he need to have that connection?”

“I couldn’t say we’d named him Kim, after our brother,” Kinn insists. “What would I tell him when they really meet?”

“You did name him after our brother, who is Wik,” Khun says tartly. “That’s something you should have thought of first, isn’t it?”

 

(or, Kim is a part-time cat, Chay is a part-time fanfic writer, and they fall in love. Twice.)

At the end of high school, Book and Force lose their virginities to each other. Four years later, they're cast in Enchante.

It's a closely held secret of the GMM contracts that every main BL couple has to undergo a soulbond.

“He says you’re a mean and cruel husband and that’s where it ends because I am not going to be a conduit for your weird flirting."

Deleted scenes and snippets from The Boys of Summer

When Lan Zhan indicates a willingness to be Wei Ying's (platonic) dom, Wei Ying jumps at the chance. But then Wei Ying catches feelings. Really inappropriate feelings for someone who's supposed to be his esteemed platonic colleague. Surely the detestably respectful thing to do is to break it off rather than violate this clear boundary, right?

But before Wei Ying can work up the fortitude to take that final, terrible step, he and Lan Zhan get caught up in a surprise case. One where talking to each other becomes significantly harder.

One year after a chance encounter thrusted Lan Wangji into precarious amity with Wei Wuxian, they meet again at this year's discussion conference in Gusu. Their attempts at rekindling their budding friendship work well enough until Lan Wangji goes into rut unexpectedly, forcing him to seclude himself in the Jingshi for the next several days.

Too bad for Lan Wangji that the one person he desperately wants to avoid right now just won't. Stop. Meddling.

In a world where having a sex slave is a status symbol, Kinn's father gifts him with a slave.

Wei Ying laughs. “I never really understood why Paris is meant to be the city of love. It’s just a city. There’s like, so many cities in the East that have so much more to offer, right? But now that I’m here, with you…” He smiles prettily, the candlelight sparkling in his eyes. “I think I kind of get it. There’s just, something in the air.”

Against his better judgement, Lan Zhan asks, “What is in the air?”

“Hmm…” Wei Ying thinks. “Maybe love?” His laughter tinkles like a chime.

Maybe.

———

Lan Zhan catches a train to nowhere and gets himself stuck in France with the most irritating, shameless, breathtaking man he has ever met in his life. It turns his whole world upside down.

(Jab We Met AU)

As the conversation washes over him, Lan Zhan's attention is drawn to where Wei Ying sits in his corner. Over and over, Lan Zhan looks and then looks away, catching glimpses of Wei Ying’s high cheekbones shining in the dim light of the porch, the movement of his Adam’s apple as he sips his beer, the fall of his hair as he throws his head back to laugh. These moments feel pilfered—he won’t let himself watch for more than a second at a time, and it feels like a monumental act of self-denial. Condensation trickles down the side of his seltzer can and between his fingers, wetting his palm. He wipes his hand on his shorts, and when he looks up again, he catches Wei Ying watching him.

[Lan Zhan gets a new apartment. Wei Ying gets a new neighbor.]

Kim was only an omega when he was luring people closer to his gun. No one had to give Kim a weapon. He was one.

(Kim's mission is to get close to Porchay Kittisawat. Chay is not a typical alpha. Kim is not a typical omega. Kim isn't having feelings and Chay is going to be so normal about all of this.)

Lan Zhan's band, Lightbearer, is in need of a new vocalist. Their previous one left the band over creative direction issues right before the end of their last touring cycle—they finished the tour, but Su She was gone after that. And he’d left in a public, ugly way: a rant in a Mediagram caption below a setlist that had been torn in half.

They haven’t had luck finding a replacement, and it’s been a few years. Long enough ago for the breakup setlist to become a meme.

And then, one day, Lan Zhan’s Chatter feed starts blowing up with what looks to be an audition tape: Wei Wuxian, a known entity in the scene, famous for his screamo covers of pop songs who has a large social media following.

And who is otherwise known as the lead singer of deathcore band Fierce Corpse.

--

or: there's intrigue afoot in the heavy music scene, and Lan Zhan knows what he wants.

Lan Wangji says, “I am also looking to . . . gain practical experience. It seemed mutually advantageous.”

“Mutually advantageous,” Wei Wuxian echoes. “Wait. Do you mean I’d get to . . . ?”

Lan Wangji stares at him.

“Practice — on you?” Wei Wuxian finishes, his eyes round with disbelief.

—

During a shared summer studying in the Cloud Recesses, Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian diligently pursue an informed sexual education. What could possibly be the harm in some mutual learning?

“I look like I was mauled,” Wei Wuxian complained, pressing his thumb down over one of the bruises again. Even though it hurt, he couldn’t stop doing it: it made something swoop low in his belly every time, a tingling thrill. “We’re supposed to be helping these people and they’re going to think I’m not competent at all! They’ll ask what kind of beast did this to me and I’ll have to say it was the legendary Hanguang-jun.” He pouted. “And no one will believe me.”

“Mn,” Lan Wangji said. He sounded far too pleased with himself.

—

The road between Yunping and Gusu.

"You've never had an orgasm?!"

Both Wen Qing and Mianmian are watching Wei Ying with huge eyes, straws slipping out of their mouths. Wei Ying squirms in place, biting on her own straw. "It's not that big a deal, is it?"

    Wei Ying stares down at the photograph with a wistful smile. “These are my parents. I, ah—they passed away a long time ago. Well, you know, everyone knows. Jiang-shushu and Yu-ayi adopted me when I was little. Anyway, my parents were huge fans of Jin Yong, and they’re about my age in this photo. I’m going to the Fan Expo in a couple months and I thought I’d try to dress up as Yang Guo from the Condor Heroes series just like my dad. Is that enough time to make a costume?”

    Lan Zhan has no idea how to make a hanfu. But he knows what it’s like to want a piece of your parents, and hope is shining so brightly from Wei Ying’s eyes that he cannot bring himself to utter a refusal.

    “I can do it,” he says.

In the summer heat of the American South, two college students working in Chinatown fall in love over the making of a hanfu.

Written for MXTX Diaspora May 2023, Week 4: Spicy

Lan Wangji does not think in words. He thinks in colors. Music. Impressions. Patterns. He knows words because he has to, uses them to convey his meaning in a narrow and restricted world, but they are not his medium.

His mother was the smell of gentians, their lovely blue color, the quiet of the Jingshi. A hint of cold, now and forevermore.

His brother is the warmth of golden sunlight on deep brown wood. Soft, lilting notes. Smiling eyes.

His uncle is the smell of ink, the bare white of a brand new scroll, the articulate brushstrokes of calligraphy.

His guqin is his home. They are one and the same.

His life is peaceful. Ordered.

Or so it used to be.

*

A story about love and loss and discovery.

When a chance encounter brings Wei Ying together with his high school crush/academic rival years after the last time they saw one another, Wei Ying just wants to take the opportunity to sleep with him before they go their separate ways again. Instead, he acquires a bossy sugar daddy and the long-dormant urge to confess every old, tender feeling he's ever shoved away.

This is not how Wei Ying ever expected his life to go.

“I am not short of good proposals, Shufu.”

“Well,” his uncle strokes his beard thoughtfully. “Is there anyone else whose proposal you would rather accept?”

And if Wei Wuxian ranks highest in eligible alphas, then there is also no omega of marriageable age who is more sought after than Lan Wangji. He thinks of the many sect heirs and sons of nobility who have proposed marriage to him. And yet not one so far has seemed worth his while. Not one has brought forth a reaction greater than a shake of his head or a concise ’no’ when Lan Qiren has informed him of their interest.

Wei Wuxian is the only one to have caused such irritation.

———

Marriage is not easy for anyone. Not even if you’re married to the person you love most dearly, and especially not if you’re married to someone you detest most ardently.

Unluckily for Lan Wangji, both of those things are true for him.

There is a man who only comes down the mountain when it snows.

In a world where the Wens were just a little crueler, Lan Wangji returns from the Qishan Wen Indoctrination to find his entire clan dead—all except for his brother, who is returned to the Cloud Recesses comatose after the final battle against Wen Ruohan. Vowing to protect his brother and the remnants of their home, Lan Wangji secludes himself up on the mountain, only descending once a winter to gather supplies from Caiyi Town. There, he hears of Wei Wuxian’s death.

Thirteen years pass in the same fashion, until one day Lan Wangji runs into a masked man with a recalcitrant donkey and a red ribbon streaming from his hair. He calls himself Mo Xuanyu, but he acts like Wei Wuxian.

    He is a young man caught in the throes of war, digging up the dead and filling them with yin energy.

    He is a swordsman roaming the land with Lan Wangji, chasing an infamous murderer with poison hidden in his pinky.

    He is an exiled alchemist standing next to a lotus pond, waiting for Lan Wangji on the shore.

    He is a shopkeeper in a narrow little alley, sharing Lan Wangji’s truths in a world full of lies.

    He is a gangster assigned to collect debts, returning Lan Wangji’s violin in an act of righteous justice.

    He is a child at a raucous party, extending a hand of friendship to the quiet boy at the table.

Five times Wei Wuxian died in the jianghu, and one time he lived.

Or: An exploration of the term "jianghu" centered around Wei Wuxian's rebirths and deaths in various jianghu settings.

(Note: you definitely do not have to have seen Notting Hill to read this fic.)

 

Lan Zhan's brother draws to a halt next to him, staring at the man on the other side of the counter. "Oh, it is you, isn't it?"

The man, still propped against the counter on his elbow, gives Lan Huan a grin, then directs it at Lan Zhan again. "I don't know," he says. "Is it? Am I?"

"You are." Lan Huan is hurrying around to the other side of the counter, a wide smile on his face, while Lan Zhan looks on, feeling more and more perplexed, like he's stepped into some alternate universe where absolutely nobody is making any sense at all. "Wei Wuxian! Lan Zhan, do you know who this is? It's Wei Wuxian!" Lan Huan is reaching for the man's hand, and he pushes himself lazily to standing, shaking Lan Huan's hand warmly.

"In the flesh," he says. "You caught me."

"My goodness." Lan Huan is staring at him like he's never seen a human being before in his life. "What on earth are you doing here, of all places?

“Damn, and here I thought you were some kind of a general,” said the Phoenix with great amusement as he bounced back onto his feet, back to being a shithead with incredible fighting skills, “but I don’t think a general would have such poor control over his base instincts.”

Kinn stood up, stalking him slowly. The crowd was now divided, half of them jeering at him, half of them screaming at him to put the Phoenix back on his knees.

Kinn did neither. The boy in front of him was remarkable, a treasure amongst Gun’s typically unimpressive crowd. His opponent grinned at the crowd, winking rather badly at his friend who was looking anxiously at him.

Kinn would win him over.

He dropped to his own knees, relishing the pure shock in the Phoenix’s pretty eyes. He ripped his own mask from his face. The Phoenix staggered back, appalled. Kinn grinned, tilting his head.

“I surrender,” he said simply.

 

[KinnPorsche but if they were in another life. previously titled con nhớ mẹ không! (historic au, dancer Porsche/prince Kinn, updating every wed/thu!)]

When she hears the sound of several men chasing behind her, angry and loud, she knows she has to act fast. Without another thought Wei Ying grabs the stone balustrade with both hands and vaults right over, landing on her feet at the bottom of the stairway. Then, in a moment of complete and utter madness, she runs up to the motorbike and swings herself on behind the driver. “Go, go, go!” she yells. “Get me out of here, please!”

———

When Wei Ying runs away from her wedding, desperate and all alone, the last thing she expects is for her estranged childhood best friend to come to her rescue.

“You see the problem?” Jiang Wanyin continued. “Your brother is an idiot. My brother is an idiot. And we think that it’s to the benefit of the world at large for them to get married and subject us all to their joint idiocy?”

“Perhaps not,” Lan Xichen said slowly. Jiang Wanyin looked disappointed, apparently hopeful that Lan Xichen would disagree, but the expression eased when he continued, “But it is to the benefit of the two of them.”

 

In which one two three four five six amateur wedding planners (and Jin Zixuan) have good intentions and try to save the day.