Earendil28lyn



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    Derek took the picture late one night the summer between Stiles’ junior and senior years of college, the last of their four summers together.

    Or not-together. The last of their four summers of whatever it was they were to each other in those years, fucking nonstop and spending nearly every waking moment together for three months at a time, both of them aggressively maintaining the it’s-just-sex-it-doesn’t-mean-anything rule they set their very first time together, the night of the pack’s high school graduation party when, slightly drunk, Stiles kissed him for the first time, determined and eager, heart pounding in Derek’s ears.

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    English
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    2,158
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    1/1
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    20 Apr 2025

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  2. Public Bookmark *

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    Main Story: All Old Things are New Again

    Epilogues: Postcards from the Horizon

    Words:
    59,196
    Works:
    2
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    1,201

    13 Mar 2025

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    lan wangji wants to ask him so many things. but he is still processing the fact that wei wuxian knows what he is. he knows what he is, and he's a clockmaker.

    before he can stop himself, he's unbuckling the timepiece from around his wrist and setting it down on the counter in front of wei wuxian.

    "it's broken."

    ;

    vaguely steampunk au in which lwj is a time traveller who has got stuck in 19th century london, where his only way out might be with the help of the eccentric clockmaker who flirts aggressively at him every time he enters his shop

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    11 Mar 2025

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    “It’s okay that you miss him,” said Lan Wangji, a familiar litany to them both by now. “Do you feel sad?”

    “I feel sad,” A-Yuan repeated, shoulders hitching with tiny hiccuping sniffs. “When is he coming back?”

    “I don’t know. I am not sure where he is.”

    But this seemed to frustrate A-Yuan. “Xian-gege! I miss him! Please, baba?” He looked up at him with wet cheeks and a wide, quivering frown. “Please baba can you ask him? I really miss him!” He sobbed again, heartbreakingly.

    It stabbed straight through him, cracking open the reservoir of loss and helplessness that was all his own. His child’s grief did that, sometimes. It always took him by surprise. He caught his breath sharply and gathered A-Yuan into his arms, holding him tight until the pain ebbed.

    “I will try,” he said softly into A-Yuan’s hair, when he could speak again. He never made uncertain promises and tried not even to raise uncertain hopes, but his son was hurting. His son believed he could make it better. He couldn’t not try.

    Wen Qing might at least know who this “Xian-gege” was. He would text her in the morning. It would be a start.

    Language:
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    Chapters:
    15/15
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    11 Mar 2025

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    In the center of it all is a man…

    A man who is scrambling around a small convection oven on the counter, trying to scrape out the blackened remains of what Hua Cheng assumes were once cookies. He appears to be in his early thirties and, despite his frantic movements and creased expression, the first word that comes to Hua Cheng’s mind is: soft.

    His hair, a beautiful, earthy chestnut brown color, is pulled back into a loose bun on the top of his head. A few strands hang free, framing his face. He wears cuffed jeans and a cream-colored turtle-neck sweater that swamps his frame and falls down to his thighs, giving him a cozy, shapeless figure.

    or: Hua Cheng is a famous muralist who is losing his passion for art when he meets Xie Lian, single father to five-year old Guzi. Xie Lian is in the midst of opening a flower shop and Hua Cheng, instantly captivated by this man with warm eyes and a soft nature, offers to help.

    Language:
    English
    Words:
    143,612
    Chapters:
    20/20
    Comments:
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    03 Mar 2025