#even if you're high risk the situation has changed a bit it's not as dire as it was though you should still be more concerned obvs

[likeabxrdinflight]

I have a friend who's still highly cautious around covid because she's high risk but she keeps posting all these screenshots of tweets about covid studies on her instagram in an attempt to convince people that covid is still very dangerous

and it's not that covid isn't still potentially dangerous, but one quick google search has allowed me to find every study that she has referenced, and without fail, every single one of them has been working with pre-vaccine, pre-omicron data. the most recent one she's posting about is about cardiac conditions post covid, and wouldn't you know, the entire sample was taken from people who caught covid between march 2020 and january 2021.

this was pre-vaccine, pre-omicron, hell, it was pre-delta variant (remember that one). this was the wild type covid, which our bodies were least immune to. it was the type that was most known to be causing cardiac symptoms and blood clots. besides delta, it was the most deadly. and no one was vaccinated.

so yes, in that group of people, who were unfortunate enough to catch covid during that period, the results of this study are likely very valid- they are at increased risk of heart disease. and that should be talked about and studied more and if those people end up with cardiac symptoms they need to be receiving proper care.

but we should not be assuming, without further study, that these risks are still the same for those who've been vaccinated, or who only caught covid after the omicron variant became dominant (the omicron lineages have been pretty different from the wild type and other pre-omicron variants, so it's worth noting that). like this is a study that must be replicated with a post-vaccine, post-omicron sample before you will even remotely convince me that those cardiac risks are the same as they were before.

and it is driving me crazy that my friend, who is also fucking trained in how to read science, is posting this shit seemingly without looking at the actual papers or thinking about the context at all. like it is driving me absolutely bananas. these posts aren't even like, direct quotes from the papers, they're screenshots of randos on twitter talking about these papers, as if twitter rando knows jack shit about what they're talking about. like it's all well and good to still care about covid but could you at least do it with less of the fear mongering?

[peerless-soshi]

Hi! If you're still accepting requests, may I request a 75 and 60 Xiyao? If requests are closed I understand. Thanks!

Rules: Send me two (2) tropes from this list + a ship and I’ll describe how I’d combine them in the same story.   

Bed Sharing +  Poorly Timed Confession  

Jin Guangyao was sure he would sound a little paranoid if he tried to explain the complex trap of drinking wine to anyone, even Lan Xichen – especially Lan Xichen – because other clan leaders wouldn’t be kicked over a bottle. He sighed loud. It never rains but it pours, and so on. But well, there were bigger problems than a dinner with a friend-abstainer.

He eyed the small guest room. The bottle stood in the middle of the table, smiling sneeringly at him. Lan Xichen was sitting at the other end of the table, smiling brightly for a change. To close the triangle, Jin Guangyao smiled apologetically.

“Second brother, this wine is not necessary,” he said, his voice courteous and low and all smooth, as though it sprouted among dew. “Isn’t drinking alcohol forbidden in the Cloud Recess? I don’t want to cause you troubles with my presence.”

Lan Xichen shook his head slightly, an evening spark of candles wavering on his face. His white skin seemed shades lighter by contrast to sleepy shadows of the guest room, and this small change took some formal dignity away. “It’s not a problem, brother,” he said, “I am the clan leader and so I will follow our rules, but tonight you are also my guest. What master would I be if I didn’t welcome you properly?”

If he was less generous, sometimes things would be easier.

“In my humble opinion, still better than anyone,” Jin Guangyao answered and decided to risk another tactic. “Your good intentions make me happy, I will forever remember how well you treat me, so please, take the wine. If anyone saw me drinking in this place, your intent could be misunderstood. I don’t want people to gossip about you.”

Even though they would blame it on me, like always.

The real problem was that Lan Xichen was too nice to understand it: he never accused anyone, never looked down at anyone, never waited for a mistake. And this weird, clear goodness was singing in him with every gesture. Jin Guangyao doubted that words would change his ways, but he also couldn’t pretend it was fine. It would rather be the opposite, like letting Lan Xichen to treat him in the same way as other leaders would only drag Jin Guangyao more into focus. Someone was going to take advantage of his tiniest slipup sooner or later.

He pulled the cup away the same moment Lan Xichen moved closer his own cup.

“What are you doing, brother?” Jin Guangyao asked, calm outside and panicking inside. “I am not going to drink alone. It’s not proper.”

He didn’t know if Lan Xichen burst out laughing because he found this whole situation amusing or because he wanted Jin Guangyao to feel comfortable. “Who talks about lonely drinking?”

“You can’t drink,” Jin Guangyao pointed out and immediately felt his mistake. No one would remind the Lan Leader the rules of his own sect.

But Lan Xichen only looked at him and reached out for the bottle. “You’re worried that drinking in the Cloud Recess would be perceived as an insult,” he said, “In that case, I am going to drink together with you. Isn’t that the best form of permission?”

As proof of his words, Lan Xichen poured himself profusely. A small wine stain next to his hand revealed that he didn’t have much experience, however his commitment couldn’t be denied. There was the Zewu-jun Jin Guangyao knew. He always got the intention right and the actions wrong. Jin Guangyao would be ready to bring up memorable laundry if the situation wasn’t as acute.

“No!” he shouted and stood up. The table wobbled and some more drops of wine dripped, sweet and intense amid the incense and paper scents of Gusu.

“What is going on?” Lan Xichen asked him while leaning to wipe up the spilled wine.

Jin Guangyao was speechless. Forget manners, forget conventions! Drinking alcohol under the eye of a friend-abstainer was one thing, but drinking together with him was something else. He sat back down slowly, as if unsure if this was a good idea, but Lan Xichen’s smile didn’t waver. Jin Guangyao could only imagine what it must have looked like: a bottle, a dirty table, a blush on his cheeks. The whispers reducing him to a brothel child sharpened: it wasn’t surprising he had a thing for alcohol.

In a tone both respectful and dire, he said, “I’m sorry, but it has gone too far. If not for your sake, you should stop for the sake of me.”  

Lan Xichen looked like he might laugh it off, but all of sudden he straightened up. The half-filled cup froze in his hand. Also, he was no longer smiling.

“Tonight, only you and me are here,” he said, and his voice had changed. It was sadder, more complex – a smooth and sweet melody covering other tones. “Once Xichen could drink with A-Yao. Why Zewu-jun can’t celebrate with Lianfang-zun?”

It was the smallest and the biggest question, and Jin Guangyao could answer in many ways: because they were different now; because Jin Guangyao was in a different place now; because he didn’t mean to lose everything on a whim. It was too much, so he stayed silent. What Lan Xichen didn’t understand was that sometimes silence was better than someone speaking. That was how lies slipped out.

“Let me rest for a while, A-Yao.” He sounded so disappointed. “Don’t be so official with me. I know it’s selfish, but…” A pause. “I miss old A-Yao.”

At that moment, he had changed, too; Lan Xichen looked tired, undoubtedly, and the candle burning out near the window highlighted dark circles under his eyes, like gentle brush strokes on the whitest yet oldest canvas. It was a strange sense of understanding that Jin Guangyao felt. He was tired as well; he was tired of looking at others, of looking over his own shoulder and wondering what was right and what could kill him.  

It took minutes, but he raised his cup in a toast. “We have never drunk alcohol together, brother,” he added.

Forgetting was freeing.

Jin Guangyao couldn’t believe he was doing it, but why not? Zewu-jun’s friendship was an important piece of the puzzle; it was true that such moments of intimacy kept Lan Xichen on his side. The risk wasn’t high. Jin Guangyao’s gaze focused in on the door when his sworn brother emptied the cup, cheerful, allowing himself a brief moment of relax. Luxury beyond their reach. Jin Guangyao heard nothing; in the main corridor silence twirled with wind blows, and the ringing bottle accompanied them like bianzhong.

Lan Xichen let out a little laughed, his voice like tuneful music. And it was too loud, Jin Guangyao realized.

It wasn’t that Lan Xichen never laughed. But he didn’t laugh out loud; even outside the walls of his sect, he always stayed dignified and restrained like a Lan should be. And now he jumped to his feet, ran to the window and looked at the yard. Jin Guangyao’s heart stopped, a sheen of sweat on his brown.

“What happened?” he asked. “Did you hear someone? Is somebody there?”

“Yes.” Lan Xichen paused. “The moon.”

“What?”

“The moon is beautiful! Really beautiful. Why are we sitting here?! Hahahaha!”

Gasping in shock, Jin Guangyao turned his head and gazed, lost for words, at him. Lan Xichen staggered, half-falling and half-dancing, and used both hands to hold on to the wall. As if surprised, he stepped back and looked up again. Satisfied, he smiled at Jin Guangyao.

As he waved his hand, the long sleeves flutterd like crane wings in silvering glare of the night. “A-Yao, I want to go hunting. The night is so bright, did you see? Too bright to waste it! Where is my sword?” he asked, touching its hilt. “And where is A-Yao?” he added, looking at him. Maybe a little bit above.

Jin Guangyao should tell him to calm down, or – he didn’t know – to drink some tea and rest. He didn’t. “Brother… are you drunk?”

It was impossible. No one could get drunk with just one cup of wine, no matter how weak his head was. Lan Xichen seemed to agree; he chuckled and the darkest blush crept up his pale neck. It was a bad combination.

“Heavens,” Jin Guangyao whispered, “You are completely drunk.”

“No!” Lan Xichen corrected him, “I’m happy!”

They had never drunk together and Jin Guangyao wasn’t sure if it was good or bad. If someone had warned him about it, at least he would know what to expect. And now? Drinking alcohol under the eye of a friend-abstainer was one thing, but getting him drunk was something else! If word gets out that the Jin Leader forced into a respected man whole barrels of wine – because that was the picture they would see – their reputation could be dead. A disaster.

But Jin Guangyao recovered quickly when the drunk Lan leader ceased his searches of the door and decided to jump through the window.

“You can’t do it, Xichen!” he shouted, ignoring manners.

Lan Xichen hesitated, hair all over his wet face, surprised to hear him screaming. “Why?”

“Because it’s a window,” Jin Guangyao replied, trying to sound convincing. It wasn’t easy. “And I’m very tired, brother,” he added, chin sinking in hand, eyes half-closed. “See? I can’t stay any longer. I must go to bed now.”

Not waiting for an answer, Jin Guangyao hurried to the door at the back of the room and opened it, revealing a small though cozy bedroom coated in white and sandalwood. He impulse-yawned in the hopes of emphasizing the earlier words.

Fine. It was going to be fine. He wouldn’t let anyone see Lan Xichen.

The black leader hat landed on the shelf, exposing dark hair tied in an elegant bun. “I’m getting ready to sleep, see, so I’ll walk you to your room now. It’s late, I think everyone in your sect is already resting? Aren’t you tired too?” Jin Guangyao asked, and when Lan Xichen didn’t answer, he pulled his gaze up from the hat.

Lan Xichen’s relaxed look was replaced by concern. “I see,” he said, his head nodding in compassion. “You want to sleep. I am sorry, A-Yao. We should do it together.”

“Yes!” Jin Guangyao almost clapped his hands. “If you understand…”

“I’ll hold it for you.” Lan Xichen said as he grabbed his hand and led him to the bed.

No way.

Jin Guangyao froze, so before he noticed it the ground escaped from his feet and he bounced off the mattress. Lan Xichen was right next to him. He picked up the hat and blown off some non-existent dust before putting it down. Then he squinted at Jin Guangyao as if he could determinate his level of fatigue – or comfort – by cleaning clothes.

He laughed a little to himself, probably proud of his work. “Do you feel better now?”

Jin Guangyao would honestly be rather caught drinking. The only thing that could make it worse was if someone walked here at a time like this. Getting a friend-abstainer drunk was one thing, but dragging him to bed was the whole new universe! The whispers were clearer than ever: what to expect from a prostitute’s son?

He would never allow it.

“Stop it, brother. It’s just not done in a polite…”

“You can stay,” Lan Xichen interrupted, his arms crossed on his chest, “but your clothes have to go.”

“Excuse me?”

“It’s not polite,” Lan Xichen repeated after him, and said, “to sleep in your clothes!”

Jin Guangyao tried to say something, but his tongue was hulking in this mouth. In turn, Lan Xichen nodded and reached for his own belt, but his hands were all over the place, like a child learning to tie a knot for the first time. Stop. Lan Xichen had had to do it more efficiently even as a child.

Jin Guangyao sat up abruptly. “What are you doing now?” he mumbled.

“What? I’m going to sleep?” Lan Xichen said. “You said that we can sleep together.”

“No, I said we should both go to sleep. Separately.”

“It’s one and the same.”

“You can’t stay here, Xichen!” Jin Guangyao cried in a silent scream. “What if somebody sees you now? What will happen then?”

Lan Xichen winced and opened his mouth, offended. “I miss good old times with A-Yao. Stop it, you’re worrying too much! Ha! Smile!”

“We didn’t sleep together!” Jin Guangyao forgot to mid his voice. “What are you exactly missing?!”

He desperately wanted to put his hands on a Lan instrument and play some melody that would tell Lan Xichen to withdraw, go to his room and forget it all in the morning. He would bet they had something for mind control in their books! Mind control wasn’t, however, one of  Jin Guangyao’s natural abilities as Lan Xichen completely ignored his nonverbal equivalent of yelling.

“A-Yao, do you sleep on your stomach?” he asked.

“No… Why?”

Lan Xichen bent down with a smile that had been know to leave all unmarried female cultivators mute. And then he looked at Jin Guangyao. “Perfect!”

Without saying more, he rested his head on the other leader’s chest and breathed a sigh of relief. Apparently he forgot about taking his clothes off; he grinned from ear to ear and made himself comfortable like on a pillow.

Jin Guangyao’s face was on fire. Who needs spells summoning flames when you have drunk Zewu-jun around? He tried to move away quietly to protect his honor, but Lan Xichen’s embrace turned out to be made of steel. Then Jin Guangyao spoke – careful and pleasant, a golden morning bathing in the earliest sun. Lianfang-zun.

“Brother. Brother, you have your own room. You don’t feel well so let me…”

Wearing an expression of sudden realization, Lan Xichen tipped back his head. “A-Yao, we should talk.”

“It’s not…”

Again, Jin Guangyao couldn’t finish; this time the Lan Leader’s hand ended up on his lips. “Don’t interrupt or I’ll forget. It’s very important. I always forget. Why didn’t I say it earlier, haha?”

The silence was painful and awkward. It was endless, too.

“Brother?”

“Xichen?”

“Xichen,” Jin Guangyao agreed, his annoyance hidden. “What…”

“I like you,” Lan Xichen declared, pointing at him. “And I’ll stay here because you are prettier than the moon.”

It felt surreal, strange and somehow incredible.

For the first time ever Jin Guangyao had no idea what to say. All he knew was, he would lie to anyone else but Lan Xichen. And he was so used to lying that now he was left dumbstruck, mouth open and muscles rigid, watching disheveled and blushing Lan Xichen. It seemed the Lan Leader was spinning around the idea of making an eye contact before keeping his gaze to the shelf.

“I always liked your hat. It makes you look taller.”

“It doesn’t matter now. Oh.” Jin Guangyao’s mouth was dry. His eyes found Lan Xichen’s face again. “This is not the best moment for those words, brother. Xichen,” he said before Lan Xichen corrected him. “You are tired, drunk and…”

“In love.”

Half-naked.

“Gods, help me.”

Maybe there was a god of embarrassing situations? Someone to pray to while feeling awkward? The heaven was full of gods, there must be someone who could help them now.

But their god was rather luring disasters. Jin Guangyao couldn’t tell if his heartbeat was too fast or if it stopped completely when he heard footsteps in the hallway. He barely looked up from his bed before the door opened with a bang.

“What happened? I heard noises…”

Lan Wangji.

He entered the room quickly and stopped as his eyes, watchful in the night glow, met Jin Guangyao. Then he spotted Lan Xichen, too, and though his expression didn’t change, he looked paler than a moment ago.

Jin Guangyao sat up and started his explanation. He could do it; he had been in worse situations. “You’re here, Younger Brother! How good. Look, your older brother is sick, I tried to help him…”

But Lan Wangji didn’t listen; he just nodded, slowly, to Lan Xichen and showed him thumb up.

Maybe it wasn’t the impression that Lan Xichen smiled back.