#somebody research this with me

[spottedgardeneelstan]

a criminally under discussed part of the extras

[uncanny-tranny]

My biggest piece of advice for folks who want to get into fitness would be: Do not follow fitness influencers (or do so very sparingly).

Please be very critical of what is being said when people talk about fitness. It's important that you learn how to exercise properly for your body, and to learn safety and harm reduction, and that isn't what I mean when I say not to follow influencers.

When you want to get into fitness, think about what piques your interest. Do you want to do cardio? Weightlifting? Yoga? Running? A mix of any of that (or none of these examples)? Think about what you think would spark interest and joy, and learn to do that fitness in a safe manner.

I think the biggest reason I even have a healthy relationship with fitness over food is because I haven't followed any fitness influencers, and out of all the ones I've seen, I would only follow one of them, maybe two. Out of all the ones I have seen, and there have been plenty. What I have done instead is research what I want to get into to make sure I am not accidentally harming my body, then, I think of my own goals and work toward them.

I'm sure this won't work for everybody, and that's okay. I wanted to make this post because I think there can be this pressure to "look fit" when you're into exercise and I think that can be a slippery slope.

[alphacentaurinebula]

Did I think I would have to learn a bunch of physics to write fanfic? No, my friends, I really did not.

Particle physics background nonsense, coming soon to a Cold War spies AU near you…

[wastingawayinmyroom]

sigh

mom’s back on the “jia you’re not bi i researched” thing

[superm4ks]

I'm honestly sooo curious to see how they're gonna judge if a driver has "consistently demonstrated outstanding ability and maturity in a singleseater formula car" and then also how they'll explain/defend that decision to the public...

How they'll judge it is whether or not the kid is connected to a political heavyweight wid enough pull to guarantee him a seat its literally as simple as that . FIA introduced the new super license system ab 4 months after Helmut got Max, before he even debuted in Australia. People forget but they didn't just add the age minimum and valid drivers license requirement, they created the entire point system and strengthened gp2 ((now f2)) in detriment of other junior series like gp3 and formula renault, which wud have effectively barred Max from competing. gp2/f2 became the definitive springboard into F1. It was political and petty and it was never about Max's experience or lack thereof. Thats why they're willing to tweak the system for Kimi but somebody like Colton Herta never stood a chance. Herta is not one of their own and it was never about age

[skateisawesome]

one thing everybody should know about me is that english is my favourite subject and solitaire is my favourite book so hold onto your popcorn while i introduce you to a concept that i love.

doublethink is the idea that two opposing concepts can be true at the same time. its from the book 1984 by george orwell. **

solitaire (and most of alice osemans books tbh) have this concept all over them. tori is depressed. she can also feel joy. michael is angry. but he is also grateful. tara can be confident in her sexuality. she can also not want to tell anyone. isaac can feel attraction towards james. this does not erase him being aroace. jane can be both a good and bad parent.

this idea of confliction is so beautiful to me and i think part of the reason that alice osemans books have absolutely captured me.

**thank you to derellenbogen who actually let me know that this is not what doublethink means. so this is actually not quite true and a better word would be juxtaposition!!

[i-demand-a-good-username]

Alright how the FUCK do you play Pirate 101

[lightasthesun]

hey guys where should I go to get checked out for chronic fatigue syndrome...

[rapha-reads]

Hey, will the Welsh be mad at me if I put Camelot in Cadbury Castle instead of one of the possible places in Wales in my BBC Merthur fic...? No? Cool. 'cuz I work with maps, y'all, we're having knights going on quests and a warlock disappearing into an old forest and a king riding after him, I need to map out everyone's trajectories and honestly I do not have time to get a degree in 100% historically and nationally accurate arthuriana. As much as it does hurt me to not spend the rest of the year brushing up on my folklore-accurate Welsh arthurian canon, sorry. Camelot is in Somerset, Tintagel in Tintagel, Cornwall, the Saxons are invading from old Alba, Londinium is around and making trouble for everyone and Brecon Beacons (wasn't that the place in Torchwood where the team met the cannibals...?) in Wales is covered by an old forest. It's the 5th century AC and it's fantasy, there's dragons and wizards and shit, who's to say there wasn't a magical mystical forest there after all.

[chibishortdeath]

I redrew something from 2022 :3! Yippie, now you guys get to see the old one and the new one next to each other heck yeah.

I’m gonna rant like absolutely bonkers length about Simon’s Quest and the endings and story under a cut for anyone interested:

The original version (the last image) had this like long rant about how I see the endings of the game, but it wasn’t as comprehensive cause I was still kinda new to things and well instagram character limit lol.

The endings of the game are a really really cool topic to me because of how ominous and vague they all are. They’re all left pretty open! But I’ve always gotten some sinking dread even when getting the fastest “red sky” ending. The game really sets up the ending with a lot of empty areas and suspense beforehand, especially with the still present but now more pressing clock still ticking ya know, and the final battle is kinda just there, but it ends off all this tense build up with

A eulogy. One definitely written for Simon too. In every ending.

The first ending (grey sky) is really vague, just a general statement that “Simon you will always be remembered for your bravery and courage” and that “Peace and serenity have been restored to Transylvania and the people are free of Dracula’s curse”. Which is really odd for what would be assumed to be a “bad ending”. This generally sounds like a pretty good outcome and it’s primarily the same in the Japanese version just slightly worded differently. Heck, it’s not even stated in the text outright if he died. But the visuals, oh man. Dreary greyscale and Simon doesn’t even appear on screen in front of Dracula’s grave. Did Dracula even get reburried? It’s some really bleak imagery compared to the otherwise pretty unsuspecting text.

And second ending (blue sky) is very interesting. Simon appears on screen with some nice bright generally cheery colors, but the text deliberately mentions his death in both versions. The English version however says something the Japanese version doesn’t: it says the curse wasn’t broken. The original text says “until a young man to fight against evils like him comes again to this world, Transylvanians will keep praying forever.” Which I guess you could assume means that something went wrong and the curse still exists, but it could also be taken as a general “there’s no cool badass vampire hunter guy to kill any other general threats, so we hope another one comes along”. So, again, it’s so extremely vague.

So far the first and the second don’t really have all that much different as far as implications go: Simon beat Dracula but he died.

So what about the third ending (red sky)? Would it shock you if I said there’s not much difference from the text of the first ending? It’s essentially just another eulogy text with nice things to say about him. It says “Simmon Belmont put an eternal period to the legend of Dracula” (yes the Japanese version says Simmon lol it happens), which is something we know isn’t true because well more games got made later. Also because Dracula’s hand pops out of the ground afterwards! Which is hard to say the meaning of, is it just a teaser like “to be continued” or is it actually meaning that Dracula wasn’t put down properly and will be back really soon? Because that still is in line with things since yeah Drac did kinda sorta come back early in Harmony of Dissonance. Anyway— But it’s just another way of saying “he killed Dracula” and probably “he ended the curse”. The last section is just “his blood and sweat have penetrated into the ground of Transylvania and will bring us full-blown flowers with happiness in next spring”. Which is, again, just a really pretty, poetic way of saying “we’re never gonna forget this guy”. And again, this ending never outright says if he lives or dies!

Which is so!!!!! Weird!!!!!!!!!!! Why have multiple endings in a game if they’re all so vague that they’re almost completely interchangeable and can all be argued to be the ending of the game? You could genuinely make an argument for each of the endings being the canon ending and it would affect essentially nothing. They’re so vague to the point that a lot of people assume that they were mixed up at some point in development, which I find unlikely coming from the dev team of the guy said to want his games to be a cinematic experience. But it’s so strange! Why!?!?!

But I think that this vagueness and sense of idk how to put it— um ya know when something builds something up to get you all excited and convinced it’ll go one way and then it pulls the rug out from under you? Like when it’s set up to where it feels like the protagonist is finally going to get something and then it just doesn’t happen completely unceremoniously? Like a hope crushing twist?

Idk what I mean is, to me, it feels completely intentional. It feels to me like the game is just ramping up the tension and the suspense and the dread just to cut it off with vague, bittersweet endings that just seem to imply sad things and don’t sit right. It’s like as if the game wants you to get the first ending, see that it’s really gloomy, try to figure out the game more and get the second ending, see that that one outright says he’s dead, then try to get something better only to run into another awkward seemingly negative ending and a realization that you can’t do anything about it.

And I was thinking about this again a bit ago and realized that it really fits with the rest of Simon’s story. Simon kinda has this general “hero goes to save the day” plot in the first one with some slight mention of Christopher before him and the fact that this is a clan and a repeating 100 year Dracula cycle right? But things go wrong and he gets cursed and presumably either struggles to figure out what to do or just puts it off for like 6 ish years. Add the general vibes of “will I ever be as good as my ancestors?” and repeating themes of being alone and then compare that with Dracula’s Curse that comes out not long later and this game is suddenly the most “power of friendship” “seeing the good in people” “together we can overcome this” kind of story in the whole series and it hit me: Simon feels like a subversion of the lone hero trope. Like this super uplifting, unlikely band of heroes story coming out right after the solitude if it were personified as a 1600s vampire hunter story feels so so so so important to me. And then The Adventure and Belmont’s Revenge come out and what are they about? Christopher goes into the castle alone and something goes wrong! And I’ve noticed how other Belmonts and protagonists in later games get companions or friends or helpers or somebody else, and oh boy does that make how alone Simon is that much more noticeable.

It just all comes together in a messed up way. I really feel like Simon dies in all of these endings. And I didn’t even get into weird symbolism discussion lol—

And maybe this is just me looking too hard into an old game from a modern used to stories in games being detailed perspective, but idk man, I love the Simon’s Quest because it never fails to baffle me. Honestly so much of Simon’s Quest genuinely haunts me (affectionate), like I’ll just be sitting around and think of another possible answer to something and it’ll end up just as vague and full of holes as any other speculation, it’s wild. This game will have you sitting around looking for answers only to consistently run into dead ends with sad or nonexistent implications. I hope any of this makes sense, this game drives me insane I love it debating replaying and overthinking it again hmmmmmmm—

[bittermarching]

Makes no sense to me when people have a "do Not follow me if you believe/don't believe xyz" in bio or post "unfollow me now if you think ___" Like, you're not seeing their posts, they're seeing yours. And wouldn't you want people who don't agree with you to follow you and see your posts? To learn something new, to change their minds?

Not that you have the obligation to argue with any idiot who comes across your blog ofc -- but why not make opposing viewpoints available to people who may be mis/uninformed? My blog policy is the same as a library: the ideas and resources are open to whoever, but if you make too much noise I reserve the right to kick u tf out.

[itsbrucey]

Currently obsessing over Werewolf Darryl bc I'm. Deranged. But a little fic/scenario I had was based on that one post that talked about the myth of werewolves turning back to humans if you called their name or gave them their clothes.

Doing a little research and I can't find the clothes myth which I'm disappointed by ( but I'll keep looking!) BUT. I did find evidence of the Calling Name myth!! It's a German myth from The Werewolf, written by F. Asmus and O. Knoop, and it's basically that humans turn into werewolves using the wolf strap ( which I believe is a belt of sorts) but can revert back if someone calls their name.

OK RESEARCH ASIDE. LAME, BORING, DUMB! A fic based on the Dads/ mainly Henry getting Darryl to de-transform using this myth..... OUUGHHHHHHH....

[especiallyhaytham]

My fatal flaw is thinking I could bust out a 1,200 word scientific research essay THE DAY IT'S DUE because I've definitely written that much gay fanfiction in the span of like, 3 hours

[gravitywonagain]

Okay, I’ve never seen The Blacklist but the Netflix summary and preview clip looked super interesting so here we go. 

~~

Wei Wuxian finds himself surprisingly calm as he pushes open the plate-glass door beneath the massive Cultivation Bureau of China insignia. Low-level security cultivators watch him as he passes, but no more intently than they watch anyone else. The one closest to the doors even nods to him. Wei Wuxian wonders at how stupid that man is about to feel, and then decides he doesn't care. 

The interior of the building is warm enough to fog up his sunglasses once he’s far enough into the grand, granite foyer. The doors fall shut behind him; the sun shines down through the tall wall of glass like even it wants to watch what happens next. It should feel like the closing of a trap. But there’s a brightness in his chest, a kind of buoyancy that wards off any anxiety that might want to cling to his heartbeats. 

He pushes the fogged sunglasses up his forehead into his hair as he makes his way to the front desk. The woman there — a second-rank cultivator by her uniform, barely a step up from the mall cops guarding the doors — looks at him without a hint of recognition. No fear in her eyes, no tightness in her jaw. 

“Welcome,” she says with the kind of resigned false cheer that all customer service professionals seem to learn as a part of their job training, “to the CBC. How can I assist you today?” Her name tape says Zhang. 

“I’m here to see Director Lan Qiren,” Wei Wuxian replies, similarly cheerful. 

He finds that he is cheerful. He’s been planning this for several weeks now. It’s always nice to finally have a project underway. 

“Yes, sir,” says Cultivator Zhang. “Do you have an appointment?”

“I do not.” 

She nods. Types something into the computer. Looks back at him. 

“Name and identification?”

He braces himself. So it begins. 

“Wei Wuxian,” he says with a smile, and he slides his passport to her over the counter. 

Still no recognition. Which is fair. She’s still in the rote part of doing her job. Plugging names and numbers into the computer. 

But something will ping soon. Her own memory or the system. 

Wei Wuxian doesn’t wait for her to return his passport — it will be confiscated soon, anyway. He doesn’t wait for her to dismiss him — the alarm will likely sound before she’s finished entering the appointment request. 

He steps backward, away from the desk and toward the center of the foyer. Slowly, he sets down his black, canvas backpack. Just as slowly, he removes his worn, leather jacket, draping it gently over the backpack. Then, he uses the red scrunchie around his wrist to tie his shoulder length hair up into a quick ponytail, before interlocking his fingers behind his head. 

People have turned to watch him. The first-rank security guards, but also the other people in the foyer -- office workers, civilians. He doesn't look back at them. 

As the alarm sounds, he is already halfway to his knees. And by the time the first-ranks get their swords out of their scabbards, Wei Wuxian — aka Yiling Laozu, the most wanted man in cultivation — has already crossed his ankles with his eyes aimed down at the floor, grinning wildly. 

—

“What the fuck is this?”

A folder, thick with loose papers, slams down onto the metal table in front of Wei Wuxian. Some of the papers begin to slope out of the open side, unsecured as they are. 

“I thought ‘no cursing’ was one of your Bureau rules,” says Wei Wuxian, delightedly amused already. Do they really think a bit of anger is what will break him? He grew up with Jiang Cheng and Madam Yu for fuck's sake. 

The man who yelled and threw the folder stands to the side of the table, closest to the door, and glowers down at Wei Wuxian. He’s a strong enough cultivator to press the room with his spiritual power, lending weight to the air in a way he probably hopes will make Wei Wuxian feel claustrophobic. Unfortunately for him, Wei Wuxian has spent time with far more power than this man can spin out of his golden core. 

The cultivator wears the standard CBC field uniform of durable blue wool trousers, a white linen shirt, and charcoal-grey combat boots. His jacket is of the same cloth and tailoring, but it is clean of any rank or unit insignia. He has no name tape, either. The only identity marker on him is a sect affiliation patch with a silver beast’s head embroidered over a green background. Nie Sect cultivators, because of their unique blend of spiritual and bestial energies, are required to self-identify when inside the building. Wei Wuxian remembers that from his time in Bureau training, too. 

“Answer the question.”

Wei Wuxian lounges as much as he can in the simple plastic and metal chair. His hands are still bound behind him with a thick zip tie, but at least they’re not attached to anything but each other. There's no suppression in the bindings, or in the room, which is curious. A sign of trust, maybe? Or, more likely, they're not entirely sure how to deal with him. Which is kind of why he's here in the first place. 

He looks down at the way the stack of paper still seems to be oozing from between the tabbed manila jacket sides of the folder. None of the individual notes are entirely flat, giving the whole sheaf a disheveled texture. It is decidedly not the lightly-battered red-canvas portfolio he brought in with him, though he does recognize the papers within. 

“Looks like a folder,” he says, a casual smirk curling up one side of his mouth. “I feel like even you field types should be able to figure that one out for yourselves.”

Across the room from where Wei Wuxian is sitting, the wall appears to be a mirror, though nobody in this room would think that’s what it is. Behind that mirror, Wei Wuxian would bet his entire stash of Jamaican Blue Mountain coffee that Lan Qiren is rolling his eyes. 

Inside the room, the Nie cultivator pinches the bridge of his nose in a frustrated gesture that looks adorably familiar. “What are your notes supposed to be getting at, Wei Wuxian?” he asks. 

“Oh! These are my notes!” says Wei Wuxian with, he’ll admit, exaggerated surprise and innocence. “Giving you a bit of trouble, are they?”

The Nie cultivator huffs through his nose. 

Because of course they are. Wei Wuxian is not stupid enough to show up to CBC headquarters with decipherable notes. Who the fuck do they think he is that they were even willing to devote the three hours, or however long he's been sitting here, to try. 

“What do you want? Huh?" The cultivator looks like he personally has been attempting to read through Wei Wuxian's notes, which is certainly a choice the Bureau made. A couple of choices. First to have this rando attempt what many of Wei Wuxian's own teachers were never quite able to do, and second to send him and his ratcheted irritation in here to deal with Wei Wuxian himself.

Wei Wuxian blinks owlishly at him and he can almost see his blood pumping harder across his temple. 

"What’s your purpose here, Yiling Laozu?” the cultivator tries again. 

It's tempting to continue to stonewall him, but Wei Wuxian is actually here for a purpose. “I told that nice cultivator at the front desk," he says, reminding everyone listening that he has, actually, been very cooperative. "I am here to meet with Director Lan Qiren.”

The Nie cultivator shakes his head, almost apologetically. “Director Lan is busy, so you’re stuck with me for now.” He says it like he's just as upset about it as Wei Wuxian is. Like they're somehow in this together and if they can just overcome their differences, they can sing and dance their way to the high school prom. 

Wei Wuxian cocks his head to the side, a curious grin spreading on his lips. It could be fun to indulge this. To play along just enough to see how high he can raise this guy's pulse. His eyes flick over the cultivator. The man isn't unattractive, thick muscles and hair just long enough to pull. He looks easily riled, already primed for it, but not a man who would resist the attention if he thought it was actually getting him somewhere with the notes. 

"Just work with me here," he says, proving Wei Wuxian correct and pressing what he clearly thinks is an advantage. "I'm all you've got right now." 

Unfortunately, Wei Wuxian doesn't actually want to send a Nie sect cultivator into qi deviation for this, entertaining as it might be. 

So Wei Wuxian grins lazily back at him and says, “Oh, I highly doubt that." He directs his attention to the window that isn't a mirror. "What do you say, Old Man Lan?" In his periphery he can see the Nie cultivator splutter at Wei Wuxian's impertinence. And wow, did they just not prepare this guy at all? "Wanna come in here so we can get this party started? Or would you rather I frustrate your subordinate to death first. You know I can do it.” 

It's unclear if it was the familiar title aimed at the Director, or the casual insult to the Nie cultivator's own control, but when Wei Wuxian looks back to him, the man's face is almost purple. 

“Who the fuck do you think y—“

The door swings open, cutting him off, as Lan Qiren, in all his CBC Director glory, walks into the room.

“Language,” he says to the Nie cultivator, and Wei Wuxian doesn’t say anything about it, for which he feels he deserves a medal of some sort. Or at least a pretty color ribbon. 

The Nie cultivator gawps for a moment before he seems to collect himself again. 

"Director Lan," he says with a bow. 

Lan Qiren nods back to him, disappointment radiating, and flicks his hand back toward the open door. 

Dismissed, the Nie cultivator bows to the Director once more and then leaves the room with significantly more control than he had a moment ago, so kudos to him for that. 

Beside Lan Qiren are two other cultivators. Both are as unadorned as the Nie, though these don't even show their sect affiliation. At least not explicitly. The one to Lan Qiren’s left is of a medium build, hair pulled into a tight bun at the base of her skull. She looks tall for a woman, with the broad shoulders and muscular arms of every Lan sect cultivator. Wei Wuxian imagines he can see the sect necklace sitting beneath her tightly done up band collar. 

The one to Lan Qiren’s right— Well. Wei Wuxian would recognize the director’s youngest nephew with his eyes closed on a moonless night. Lan Wangji, of course, doesn’t even deign to look at Wei Wuxian, those beautiful honey-brown eyes focused somewhere on the wall beyond his shoulder. And fuck if that doesn’t get Wei Wuxian’s blood pumping. 

“Ah, Old Man Lan!" greets Wei Wuxian brightly. "How nice of you to take time out of your busy—“

Lan Qiren cuts him off. “I’m here, Wei Wuxian." He doesn't roll his eyes, but it's a near thing, his exasperation with his former student quickly returning to its home in the deep set of his eyebrows. "Explain to me what you are doing here.”

The Lan cultivator on Lan Qiren's left is watching Wei Wuxian with an intense, assessing kind of gaze. He can almost feel her cataloging the degree to which his shoulders are sloped and the exact shade of his eyes. 

Lan Wangji still isn't looking at him. 

“Well, I found out you’ve been looking for me—“

But Lan Qiren cuts him off again. He looks tired. “Enough with the games, please. Are you here to help us, or are you here to waste our time?”

They know why he’s here, is the thing. They’d have to be very dumb not to have put it together by now. And the CBC is many things — stuffy, uptight, moralistic, understaffed, underpaid — but they aren’t actually incompetent. With murders stacking up left and right, resentful energy found gathering in places and quantities it shouldn't naturally gather in, and Wei Wuxian’s very solid alibi of being not in the country at the time, there can be only one reason he’d so willingly turn himself in like this. And Lan Qiren, in particular, is not stupid. Which means that he wants Wei Wuxian to say it. Which is… a little bit humiliating and a lotta but like eating dirt. 

But, hey. He’s here to get shit done, not to be cowed by an old teacher in an argument that Wei Wuxian has still technically won! Resentful energy can be used just like spiritual energy is! But, sure, it can be… pretty fucked up, too. In the wrong hands. 

Wei Wuxian inhales deeply. It's still not a comfortable thing to admit. 

“Alright, fine," he says, meeting Lan Qiren's narrowed gaze across the table. "You have a demonic cultivator problem. I have a problem with my work being misused for a string of murders. It seems to me we may be able to help each other out on this front.”

CBC Director Lan Qiren would never do anything so crass as openly gloat, but there's a sparkle in the dark brown of his eyes that does it for him. 

"Good," he says, sitting down in the chair that Wei Wuxian is only now noticing exists. Lan Qiren picks up the folder, resettling the loose papers inside, and folds his hands over the top of it. Because, again, he's not an idiot, he doesn't jump right into the good stuff. He simply asks, "What are your conditions, Mr. Wei?"

Wei Wuxian's shoulders are tight after several hours of having his wrists bound behind his back. He squirms around in the chair to relieve the pressure on one, stretching his neck out in the process. 

"Amnesty, obviously," he says. Because it is obvious. Wei Wuxian is not just going to let the CBC throw him in jail after this. And if they try, they'll find it to be a much more difficult task than they're prepared for. 

"Obviously," replies Lan Qiren with a nod. 

"Not," Wei Wuxian clarifies, "that I've actually broken any legal laws. Just your bullshit cultivation laws."

Lan Qiren's eyebrow twitches and Wei Wuxian wonders, briefly, if he'll actually see a full face reaction during this interview. If not, there will be plenty of time as they work the case. Lan Qiren did always hate the way Wei Wuxian briefed a room. 

Now, however, Lan Qiren sounds only mildly annoyed when he says, "Those are, as you put it, 'legal laws.'" 

"Yeah," says Wei Wuxian, slouching further into the uncomfortable chair, "but you know what I mean, and I know you know what I mean." Which is to say that Wei Wuxian is not nearly as much of a reprobate as Lan Qiren wishes he was. Resentful energy corrupts the body and mind and all that turned out to be true... but only if you don't account for it. To date, thirteen years since he started cultivating with resentful energy, Wei Wuxian still has yet to spiral out into degeneracy and moral decay. Much to Lan Qiren's apparent chagrin. 

Lan Qiren huffs shortly through his nose. "Indeed. Anything else?"

"Lan Zhan."

Even at the sound of his own name, Lan Wangji continues to look past Wei Wuxian, but Wei Wuxian can no longer pretend Lan Wangji isn't the immediate focus of any room he happens to be in. 

"What about Special Agent Lan Wangji?" asks Lan Qiren, something perturbed in his voice. 

Wei Wuxian isn't looking at him. He's staring intently at Lan Wangji as he says, "I'll only work with him."

Still nothing. Lan Wangji continues to hold his unnaturally still posture. His eyes boring a hole into the wall behind Wei Wuxian, so focused and so deep that Wei Wuxian imagines the man can see all the way out of the building through it. 

Lan Qiren clears his throat as if trying to get Wei Wuxian's attention back on himself. When it doesn't work, he simply presses on and asks, "And why is it you want to work with my nephew?"

The question sounds surprisingly disingenuous. Like Lan Qiren already knows the answer. Which, maybe he does. 

"Maybe," says Wei Wuxian casually, "I just want something pretty to look at."

A muscle jumps in Lan Wangji's jaw and it takes real, actual effort for Wei Wuxian to not shout his victory. 

"No, Wei Wuxian," says Lan Qiren. "If we’re going to do this, you have to say it."

That does succeed in getting Wei Wuxian's attention back. Lan Qiren's eyes are narrowed, more angry than he's been the entire time he's been in here with Wei Wuxian. He was always protective of his nephews, but the fury in his gaze speaks to something more, something specific. And personal. 

Wei Wuxian meets that anger with a stubbornness that has subdued a mass grave of resentful dead. 

They stare each other down, neither willing to look away. Fire and ice, eating away at each other. 

It surprises Wei Wuxian to find that his ice is what wears down first. But, he realizes quickly, it isn’t all that surprising at all. He supposes that saying out loud why Wei Wuxian wants Lan Wangji around is less painful for him than it is for Lan Qiren to have his nephew insulted in front of him. Not that it was an insult, really; Lan Wangji really is that pretty. But Lan Qiren's ire is fair. Wei Wuxian's stubbornness is... not. 

"Fine," he says, and actually drops his eyes in concession. 

He's not above admitting that that was a weird moment for him, but he takes a few seconds to stretch his shoulders back before continuing. 

"I want Lan Zhan there," he says finally, "because he’s the only one of you fuckers who’s ever been able to keep up with me." Which is both true and gratifying to say. 

He glances up at Lan Wangji, but still cannot seem to read anything on that beautiful, stoic face. Lan Wangji’s breath is steady; the even thrum of his golden core can be felt across stadiums if he so chooses, but now it remains quiet and spinning; his posture could be written about in textbooks, and possibly has been. 

Nothing. 

Wei Wuxian tries not to bristle about it. He’ll have time. 

When he looks back to Lan Qiren, he meets the man’s steely gaze and says, "There. Happy?"

Strangely, Lan Qiren does look pleased. Almost… amused? He has the beginnings of a smile threatening his perpetually dour expression — a softening around his mouth and the corners of his eyes. He strokes his long beard. 

"It’ll do. For now."

[foggyfanfic]

Woe that I had a team of researchers to help me make my period drama fanfiction as accurate as possible, but alas all I have is duck duck go, some old photos claiming to be from the right time period, and Wikipedia

[boybasher]