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#my one contribution to fandom today
aureentuluva70 · 6 months
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agentsnickers · 1 year
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it’s one thing to see “hey dad, hey dad (wouldn’t it be cool?)” in my kudos email almost every day, it’s another thing entirely to look at my ao3 stats page and see the actual number of kudos on the fic.
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gothsidecharacter · 2 years
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i feel bad that it took me so long to get into stranger things even though i watched and enjoyed the first season right when it came out but am a hateful little creature at my core and didn’t want to engage anymore after it became such a commercial success and all it took for me to give it a second chance was growing up a little and being given a new silly little doomed side character to project onto and now that character is the one that people are being so not normal over that i simply cannot enjoy myself in peace without worrying that i am being a cringey little freak (derogatory) about it
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sweetsnap · 1 year
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are positivity blogs still a thing? might do one of those for one of my fandoms
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clangenrising · 5 months
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Hey everyone.
Today, many of you are celebrating American Thanksgiving, but I wanted to take a moment to use this platform I've somehow stumbled into to do something different. Today is the National Day of Mourning, a day where we take time to remember and mourn the suffering and deaths of the indigenous American people who were brutally colonized by the founders of the country. It is also a day to remember that their descendants are still suffering, that their struggles are not over.
Now, I am very white and living on stolen land. I am not the expert here and I don't think it would be my place to explain the struggles the indigenous Americans are facing.
But I do run a fairly popular Warrior Cats blog and I do think it would be worthwhile to highlight the fact that Warrior Cats and its fandom are full of Anti-Indigenous bigotry. You may notice that I use the term "Healer" instead of "Medicine Cats" and that's because the original term is blatant and disrespectful cultural appropriation that I don't want to take part in. And that's just one example.
HERE is a link to a comprehensive article researched and written by an All-Native/Indigenous team of Warrior Cats fans that details the harmful stereotypes the Erins use and suggestions on what you can do to avoid contributing to them. Please, read this document and take some time to think about what it says.
I also encourage any Native/Indigenous people who find this post to add to it or link places where my fans can support you and your communities.
Thank you for your time.
-Rowan
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swordsandholly · 14 days
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Steel Magnolia
Part 1
Simon “Ghost” Riley x fem!plus size!reader
No use of y/n
Rating: Mature/MDNI
Word Count: 2.1k
Author’s Note: I just recently got back into fandom spaces and reading fanfic again and looooove the uptick in fat Y/N characters. Ofc as a big girl myself I wanted to try my hand at writing one too.
Hopefully I’ll post this on AO3 soon. Whenever I get my invite so I can make an acc.
“Oh! Darlin’, did ya see those boys next door?” Mrs. Duprey gasps as you swipe the last of her Bubble Bath OPI polish across her fingers.
“Next door?” You cock an eyebrow. “No one’s been next door since Adam and Eve.”
“I saw them on the way in!” She grins, the corners of her eyes wrinkling pleasantly. “Strappin’ young men - y’should talk t’ ‘em.”
You roll your eyes. “I’m sure I will sooner or later, ma’am.”
“You’ve been single too long.” The nosey old bat contributes. As much as you love her she truly cannot leave well enough alone.
“And I’m perfectly content as such.” You give her your warmest smile.
The trailer home across from you has remained empty for as long as you can remember. It’s well kept - sometimes you see random gardeners mowing or going in an out with tool bags - but no one lives there permanently. You’d think in a beach town it would at least belong to some snowbirds. A timeshare, maybe. It’s none of those things, though. Just a well-maintained, perfectly empty husk.
There’s a metaphor in there somewhere, probably.
Sure enough, as you walk Mrs. Duprey out of your little single wide trailer, you spot a black SUV parked out front of the neighboring double wide. One that is definitely *not* a repair man or worker’s vehicle. She coos at you to make sure to talk to them before waddling off to her own car. She really shouldn’t be driving at her age. You wonder briefly - futilly- if she’d sell you her car in exchange for rides.
You suppose she’s right - even if it is for the wrong reasons. You’re not particularly interested in flirting with the new neighbors. After all, don’t fuck where you eat is a saying for a reason, but it wouldn’t exactly be neighborly to not introduce yourself. Especially with all the people coming and going from your home for your nail tech services. The old Yankee’s catty-cornered from you still believe that you're a drug dealer. At least they only come down for a couple months of the year.
Despite your staunch decision not to flirt, you still find yourself adjusting your clothes. Maybe the sports bra as a top is a bit much…
Fuck it. If they live here now they’ll see you in worse.
You fix your lipstick and throw on your platform sandals. The ones that clip-clop as you walk. Maybe it will help announce your presence.
The screen door wraps quietly as you knock. You take two steps back on the front, wooden porch so as not to come off too aggressively. As the seconds tick by you debate on knocking again. Maybe they’re out. Or busy. They did just move in today, most likely. Maybe you should-
The door creaks slightly as it opens. A very, painfully handsome man pushes the screen door until it clicks in place. “Afternoon, lassie.”
You blink stupidly as he crosses his strong arms and leans on the doorframe. His eyes are a striking shade of blue - somehow both sharp and soft. His dark hair is shaped into a slightly grown-out, un-styled mohawk. It fits him oddly enough.
“I, uh,” you take a deep breath. Christ you need to get laid if just *looking* at a hot guy has you this off kilter. “I live across the way. Just wanted t’ say welcome t’ tha neighborhood.”
That lopsided smile on his face grows into a grin. You don’t miss the way his eyes catch on your chest. “Aye? Nice tae meet ye. Names John MacTavish. M’friends call me Johnny.”
He gives your hand an extra little squeeze after shaking it. That accent might as well have you on the floor. You continue to blink dumbly, watching the at the scar on his chin stretches as he speaks.
Christ almighty, you’re pathetic.
“Nice to meet’ya.” You give him a warm smile, tilting your head to the side slightly. “Ya’ll here for vacation? We don’t get many Europeans ‘round here.”
He chuckles. It’s low and rumbling and would probably feel wonderful with your ear pressed to his chest. “Little bit o’ business, little bit o’ pleasure. This an’ tha’.”
“Hello, there.” Another man pops up from behind Johnny suddenly. Fucking hell, he’s gorgeous too. Older, for sure, with a uniquely cut beard that would probably look rather silly on anyone less handsome. At it stands, he manages to make it appear dignified.
“Ah, jus’ about tae call fer ye, Cap. This is our neighbor.” Johnny gestures toward you.
“John Price.” The man steps forward to shake your hand. It’s firm and professional and thank god your grandad made you practice a good handshake as a kid or you’d be painfully embarrassed.
“Are all UK men named John or is this just some sorta cult?” You blurt, unable to stop yourself from snickering at them.
Older John chuckles at you fondly, his facial hair giving him a pleasant U-shaped smile. “Be easier to remember that way, wouldn’t it? No, we’re with two others. Kyle and Simon. They’re out at the moment.”
“Kyle and Simon.” You repeat, nodding. Johnny, John, Kyle, Simon. “Are y’all in town long?”
“Indefinitely.” Is all Price gives you. It’s a tone that even someone as dense as you can recognize as ‘don’t ask more.’
You clap your hands together and smile a little wider, ready to make your exit. “Well, I’m not here t’be a bother, just wanted t’ welcome ya and, uh, let y’know that I have a lot of people over throughout the day - I’m a nail tech. They shouldn’t bother ya but y’know.”
“Ye can come bother us anytime, bonnie.” The Scot hits you with that grin again and your face suddenly feels far too hot.
A loud, whining screech sounds off from down the road. You check your watch. Holy shit, three-thirty already. You begin to back off the porch. “Ah, nice t’ meet ya again! See ya ’round!”
As you jog down the little dirt road of the trailer park another black car passes you. It’s smaller, a sedan. You make very brief eye contact with a blonde wearing a surgical mask and another man with the sharpest golden eyes you’ve ever seen - even through the tint of the window.
*Kyle and Simon,* you think.
You make a mental note to greet them at some point and continue down the street. The school bus slowly stops at the entrance and you take up your spot in the small crowd of parents. IT’s a shabby old bus - chipping paint and break pads that sounds like they’re about ready to snap. It’s all they’re willing to send out to your little section of the city, though.
Shelby meanders over in your direction, her usual Camel Crush lit up in one hand and the other teasing her already well-lifted hair. “Afternoon. Saw there was some new folks across from ya.”
“Hm?” You keep your eyes on the bus. “Ah, yeah. Just vacationers, I think.”
“Lookers, though.” She chuckles.
“They’re from the UK.” You offer.
“No shit!” Shelby stamps out her cigarette as the bus doors open. “Accent and all?”
“Yep.” You grin.
Shelby tsks and fiddles with her hair again. “I best go over an’ make myself known, then.”
“There’s an older fella with a neat beard. Think you’d like ‘em.” You snicker.
She hums. “I’ll bring a pie.”
The children practically burst out of the bus doors, as always. Ready to be home and shuck off their backpacks to their respective adult. Shelby’s son almost knocks her over, offering a little “Good afternoon, ma’am!” to you before heading off with his mother.
You nod to him, shoving a hand in your pocket as you wait for yours. She’s always the last. Always caught up in a book or something and doesn’t realize it’s time to get off of the bus. Sure enough, the driver has to call back to her before the little girl comes dashing out. She jumps off of the bus steps, despite being told time and time again not to, and kicks a rock on her way toward you.
You bow low for her. “Welcome home, Lady Sophie.”
She giggles, dark curls bouncing as she skips over. “Ni-ni!”
You take her bag from her. The thing really does dwarf the poor six year old. Her hand slips into yours easily. Soft and round and somehow always so much warmer than yours.
“My nail color chipped!” She announces, holding up her ring finger on the opposite hand.
“Oh! Now we can’t have that. I’ll fix it tonight.” You smile, waving at old Mr.Chester as the two of you pass.
“Well now!” He calls. “How blessed am I to see two such lovely ladies!”
You both giggle, continuing on your way. He’s a good landlord - spotted you more than a few times when Sophie was a baby and you couldn’t work consistently. Honestly, as you look around, the little community that he’s managed to build in this shitty corner of the world should be praised. Housing just enough snowbirds to cover his property costs while keeping rent low for the full time locals. Maybe you could convince Natalie at the paper to run a little story on it or something.
As you pull up to your own home, the blonde man is outside leaning on the front of their double wide. Seeing him standing at full height makes your blood run cold. The man is built like a damn barn - tall and wide. Beyond solid. *Brick shithouse*. It’s a bit weird that he’s covered in clothing head to toe but whatever. Weirder things have happened before. The mask still covers his face, you wonder if he had taken it off before you came up or just flipped it up to smoke.
“Sophie, head on in. I’ll catch up.” You push her toward the door. She scampers in, the screen door slamming behind her as you march up to the brick shithouse of a man in front of you.
“Which are ya? Kyle or Simon?” You smile, holding out your hand to shake.
Dark eyes rake over you, stopping briefly on your hand, before moving back to meet yours. He stomps out the half smoked cigarette. “Simon.”
You let your hand drop. Bit rude, this one. “Nice t meetcha.”
The other man pops his head out of the trailer. Kyle, you assume. “Oh. Hello.”
“Hi.” You smile as warmly as you can, giving your name. “I’m assumin’ yer Kyle.”
“Yeah.” He chuckles. “I’m guessing you’re the neighbor Price mentioned.”
You nod, about to speak again but Simon shoves past you, marching his way up the steps. “Let’s go.” He grunts, pushing the other man back into the trailer despite his protests.
You wrinkle your nose at him. What an asshole.
“Who’s tha’?” Sophie asks over the back of the old, worn couch as you let the trailer door slam behind you.
“New neighbors.” You say simply, glancing out the window. “Don’t go over there without me, yeah?”
“Okay!” She agrees, sitting back on the couch and bouncing, beginning her usual post school chant. “Bluey! Bluey! Bluey!”
You drop her backpack down beside the small coffee table. “After yer homework.”
“Nooo!” She pouts.
“Then no Bluey.”
Sophie pouts harder but crawls down in front of the coffee table and pulls out her little work sheets. At least the school doesn’t over run them too terribly with homework toward the end of the year. You glance at the calendar. Wednesday, May 22nd. Damn, she really only has about a week left. Though, you’d be lying if you said you weren’t looking forward to this summer break with her. She’s old enough now that you can take her places like the arcade without having to wait on her so much. You’ll actually be able to play some of the two-player games.
Plus, this year, you actually have a little more pocket change to make it fun.
You turn to look out the window once more at the new neighbors. Their curtains remain closed, cars neatly parked out front. The door opens slowly, the hot Scot and rude blonde wander to the Sedan. Simon’s shoulders shake at something Johnny said - you think he’s laughing but its hard to tell with that mask. Johnny’s head turns, blue eyes meeting yours through the shitty glass windows of your trailer. You squeak and duck to sit next to Sophie, praying that he didn’t catch you staring.
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justporo · 7 months
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Hi! Could I please get some headcanons or a drabble of Astarion x anemic!Tav and how things may differ when it comes to him feeding on them, how he'd take care of them if they needed it, etc? Would love to see what you come up with. Thank you for your time! 💜
Hello and thank you very much, Anon! Since I'm actually hit with the Bloodless debuff today myself... What else could I have written?
This is a very sweet idea to write something - which I took and then made it sarcastic... I hope you like it.
Also - idk why, but for this I pictured Tav as velnna's Staeve - you probably know who I'm talking about and if you don't you should very quickly go over there and find out, because I love Steven and you should really give this incredible incredible artist who has contributed so much to this fandom a lot of love. All the love. (I didn't wanna tag them because I didn't know if it was okay and didn't want to annoy them but go check out their blog!!)
Pairing: Astarion / Tav (You) Wordcount: 1,6k
Bloodless
The sun was burning in the sky. You felt sweat almost drip from your skin. Every step seemed to be harder than the last one. Your heart was fluttering although your pulse seemed flat. Damn this Mountain Pass.
You and the rest of the party had been hiking through the mountains for days. It was exhausting for everyone, but especially for you it seemed. Surely, the fact that you had offered Astarion your blood almost every other night (and that he was always very keen and graciously grateful to take it) had quite obviously to do with how much your stamina had dwindled.
But you knew offering up your blood was very much helpful. Not only to the vampire, but the party as a whole: Astarion had basically become a menace on the battlefield since he’d been able to feed properly. Also, you were stubborn – a bit of missing blood wouldn’t knock you out. Or would it?
You tripped on a loose stone and almost face-planted on the ground. Only in the last moment were you able to catch yourself and dampen the fall with your arms. You quickly got up again and hoped no one had noticed since you’d dropped to being the last in the group today.
But trying to raise yourself so quickly had been a mistake and you suddenly felt overly woozy, your vision blurring and you were immediately back on one knee.
And of course, it hadn’t gone unnoticed: Astarion had been in front of you and had seemingly been alarmed by the noise of your fall – twice.
“What is it, Tav, got too distracted looking at my back, hm?”, he taunted and came over to where you were doubled over – leaning on your arms too now because you felt so dizzy all of a sudden that you felt you had need of all of your four limbs on the ground to support you.
When the vampire realised you weren’t getting up and also didn’t respond to his quip in your usual witty manner, he quickly gave the others a shout to let them know not to go too far ahead. Then he came over to you. You were desperately trying to not pass out when you saw the hands of the pale elf through your blurred vision reaching for you.
“You do hear me, yes?”, Astarion whispered to you. You could only nod curtly. His hands hesitantly touched your shoulders.
“Alright, can you get up? There’s a big stone over there where you could sit down.” You shook your head which made you even dizzier.
“Oh hm”, Astarion seemed a little helpless on how to proceed with you. You felt him turn away.
“Don’t tell the others!”, you exclaimed breathlessly. The vampire whipped around: “But… why?” “Just don’t please”, you whispered and carefully looked up at his face. Was that… actual worry?
“Please just… Help me sit on this rock, let me have some water… and rest and we’ll keep going in a few minutes”, you pleaded with him. Astarion didn’t look completely convinced but sighed in defeat after a few of your racing heartbeats.
“Alright – could you please not die for a moment while I go and talk to the others?”, he said in a sassy tone that couldn’t completely gloss over the worry in his voice.
You let your head fall down again and simply nodded. Astarion went off towards the rest of your companions.
Ever so slowly you felt a little bit better. Cautiously you knelt back onto your feet – at least not on all fours anymore! Shortly after you tried to carefully get up and move over to the rock Astarion had mentioned.
That was when the vampire returned. “Oh no no, you stay right where you are, you poor helpless creature that would have perished already had it not been for me.” He ran the last few feet over and grabbed one of your arms to slowly put it around his neck and help you get up and walk over to sit on the boulder. You wanted to say something witty at his taunt, but your mind was too blank.
“Also, we are actually taking a break – all of us, so don’t even try to keep on walking”, he scolded you as he placed you down.
“What did you tell the others?”, you asked simply as you placed your forearms on your thighs and just sat leaning forward like that for a little. “Tss, does it matter now? Something like I broke a nail of mine and needed a moment to mourn it or whatever”, Astarion replied annoyedly.
“Can’t believe they actually stopped for that”, you said slowly and chuckled with your head between your knees and threw up a look at your vampiric companion. “Yeah well, seems they care a lot about my wellbeing. And I take it they would about yours, too”, he gave back – again very sassily. You just chuckled but didn’t reply. You saw that he relaxed a little.
“Ah here. You should probably drink and eat a little”, the vampire said after a while of the two of you just sitting there. He offered you a water bottle and some berries from a pouch – both of which weren’t his for obvious reasons.
You narrowed your eyes at him: “Where did you get those?” “By the Gods, you are so reluctant to help, I should’ve left you in the dirt.” Astarion rolled his eyes at you. “The druid gave it to me – you’re not as inconspicuous as you might believe, oh mighty leader of our adventure troupe.” You had a desire to punch this cheeky elf but you knew you were in no condition to act on something like this, so you sighed and first took the water and then started to munch on some berries from the offered pouch.
Silence spread once more between the two of you. Before Astarion broke it again: “Listen, Tav, darling, I know this must be because you’re letting me drink your blood so often.” You immediately wanted to start protesting but the vampire hushed you, brows furrowed.
“No, for once, you’ll let me do the talking. Don’t think I’m blind – your form has been declining for quite some time now. We can’t go on like this. I mean, Halsin has also noticed already.” You stayed silent and kept popping berries in your mouth and silently thanked the druid for his kind gesture – even if you didn’t want the others to know of this weakness. You slowly started to feel better.
“As much as I enjoy our little late night… sessions. We should probably take a break – at least concerning these particular ones. And maybe later, keep longer breaks in between if you insist to keep throwing yourself at me to drink your blood”, Astarion continued and sighed theatrically.
He tried so hard to be sarcastic about the whole thing, but you noticed that he was actually worried, judging by the guilty glint in his red eyes. And maybe it was that the blood loss was affecting your brain too much but you stared at him and just dryly said: “You know, you could just admit that you care about me, Astarion.”
The vampire huffed in surprise, then he sneered with a click of his tongue: “Bah, of course I do, you seem to be the only one to get this group of clowns to work together after all. It’s not like I care for you much as a person. As a blood bag maybe, but other than that…”
You pursed your lips and let him ramble, digging his own verbal grave by trying to talk himself out of it.
You didn’t even reply afterwards, just let him steep in the own awkwardness he created.
You kept looking at him – even offered him a berry, he scrunched his nose at – then shrugged and ate it yourself.
You slowly opened your water bottle…
“Okay, maybe a little. Tiny bit. Because you’re the only one in the group who seems to have a real sense of humour – at least when you’re not lying in the dirt being a dried out husk”, Astarion exclaimed.
You grinned at him wolfishly and shook the last of the berries from the small bag into your mouth ignoring his insult. “Now, wasn’t even that hard, was it? I really like you to, Astarion”, you said and then slowly stood up – careful not to immediately make a fool of yourself again.
“I liked you better when you were staring at the dirt up close”, the vampire replied and jumped up while crossing his arms over his chest, then sauntered away.
“Sure, if that’s what you need to tell yourself”, you kept teasing and slowly went after the brooding vampire.
You met up with the rest of the camp then went on your way for the rest of the day. The others were already so used to the two of you missing from the camp at the same time (mostly during nighttime, of course) that they didn’t even look up when the two of you came back.
Later when you all had settled down for the night you saw that Astarion went over to Halsin and talked to him softly. They both threw you looks in between which made you uncomfortable because you certainly could imagine what the topic was. Before Astarion had also made sure you’d gotten the first serving of tonight’s dinner (and also seconds).
Even later when the others were already at rest the vampire confessed, he’d been asking the druid about how he could go about drinking your blood without putting too much of a strain on you. Again, you noticed that he seemed not only concerned about his blood rations when he explained that to you.
The next days you also noticed that Astarion had started carrying some water and the bag from Halsin containing the berries.
And you thought to yourself that – for a blood bag – Astarion seemed to put an awful lot of thought and action into making sure you were okay.
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Today on popping the corn and feeding the children, what do you folks think of this discussion? :)
I'm always curious to hear what other Trek fans, especially queer Trek fans, think about our place in Trek history and how we fare as the queer participants within our fandom. What have your experiences been like?
Overwhelmingly I've found a great reception and a welcoming attitude, but I admit that has increased considerably since the 90s. However, there are still some Trek fans who seem to be vehemently in denial about queer history in Star Trek, or the fact that anyone who has worked on Trek has pro-LGBT attitudes. This always surprises me considering some of the blatant queer content we have already seen in Star Trek such as the Jadzia Dax and Lenara Kahn kiss.
Anyway, I enjoyed the discussion that followed and seeing the overwhelming outpouring of support coming from Star Trek fans in response to this thread.
Here was my two cents contribution:
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"No, what they said was factual.
Have you forgotten Nichelle Nichols was indeed an African American woman in the core seven bridge crew back in 1966?
Or the fact that Gene Roddenberry went out of his way to write The Motion Picture Novel, creating the term "T'hy'la: friend, brother, lover" so that fans could choose which interpretations of Kirk and Spock they saw fit? He also embraced K/S fans and hired a number of them to write the earliest Star Trek novels, including the very first official one (The New Voyages Vol. 1 & 2) which included slash fiction as well as Gene's approval/forward in the books.
In case anyone has forgotten, here's a little bit of background on Gene Roddenberry and his perspectives on queerness in Star Trek.
He admitted that in his early life he was very affected by how society and culture treated the LGBT community, and that he too found himself subjugating and judging others for that lifestyle because it was what people did at that time. As he got older and had more life experience, he began working with a number of queer artists in Hollywood -- and through TOS, a number of queer individuals began asking questions about Kirk and Spock.
Instead of vehemently shutting down this perspective, Roddenberry was intrigued, and saw potential to tap into a large audience (LGBT) that most others didn't want to go near or acknowledge publicity-wise. He saw it as an opportunity to expand the fanbase while also pushing yet another envelope.
But with the heat already on the show for what they'd already pushed, he found he was often stuck between what he'd like to do and what production would let him get away with. There are a number of Kirk and Spock scenes in scripts that got cut out for leaning a little too obviously romantic. Tiny trickles of that content still made it in were infamous moments like the backrub scene in Shore Leave. Even the 2009 movie had a K/S moment while Spock Prime and Kelvin Spock talked that was written and filmed that was cut out of the final product.
Queer subtext and coding has always been relentlessly weeded away at with an excuse ready to go for why they always try to cut us out, but we all know it's because they are scared of the homophobic backlash and ratings hits. Look how violently homophobes went after the gay romance episode of The Last of Us **just this year**. This has always been our reality, so for someone like Roddenberry to make efforts in the 70s? That was massive.
But Gene as well as the queer/slash Trek community managed to accomplish some things in the 70s which I'm surprised more folks don't talk about or give much credit.
In the same TMP novel which features "T'hy'la" and the famous footnote, Gene cleverly wrote Kirk with a bisexual/pansexual lens: Kirk describes himself as *preferring* women but being open to "physical love in **any** of its many Earthly, alien, and mixed forms." (Direct quote from Genes book). Basically, Captain Kirk was DTF with whoever if there was a connection, which was a very progressive take for a character in a novel written in 1979, but made sense for the future which would have a lot less hang ups about sex and love compared to our current rather puritan/conservative society.
I also prefer women, but I married a man. Shout out to Gene Roddenberry for giving us a seat at the table back in the 70's when folks *still* try to insist there is no place for K/S or queer concepts in Trek, because he made efforts -- however small -- to employ queer people and show queer perspectives. According to David Gerrold, LGBT+ representation was a big thing that Gene personally pushed for in TNG and wanted various depictions of love/couples in the Risa scenes, to name one example.
In the 70s, fanzines led to meetings and swapped fanmade magazines, which got so big that they needed hotel centers, then convention centers, then one day the TOS cast came to one and what we know as modern fan conventions were born -- inspiring even George Lucas who attended Trek conventions in the 70s and saw how popular Trek was in syndication; it was a great climate to launch his Space Opera. Star Wars then became so huge that we got TMP.
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But none of that would have happened without the level of organization, passion, and creativity that those fans poured into Star Trek and their characters after it got cancelled and went into syndication.
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Without queer folks we wouldn't have George Takei, Theodore Sturgeon who gave us Tribbles, Bill Theiss and his amazing TOS costumes, Mike Minor's art direction, Merritt Butrick, David Gerrold (writer for TOS, TAS, TNG) to name a few of many queer contributors to Trek that Roddenberry respected and tried to go to bat for wherever he could in a climate that was absolutely impossible to gain an inch in.
At a time during the 70s and 80s when so many people resented and feared the queer community and wanted us to disappear, especially in the 80s during the AIDS epidemic which many homophobes claimed was "God's punishment to the gay community" or "Gods's answer" to our "hedonism", thinking we'd gotten our just desserts and should just disappear . . .
During that time, Gene Roddenberry gave us queer folks a place to say: "You know what? Sure. Write your stories. TV says you guys shouldn't exist, they pull books with queer people off the shelves and burn them. Laws exist specifically to forbid you guys from loving each other, and call you mentally ill. You can't even hold hands in public. But I'm going to validate you guys and invite you to write novels or work for me, try to see what we can get by production, and allow you to see yourselves in my characters if you want to. There's a place for you in our fandom."
He gave us bi/pan Kirk, he gave us K/S is open to interpretation. In Phase 2 Kirk's surviving nephew Peter, son of his brother Sam from Operation: Annihilate!, was going to be written as gay and living on the Enterprise with his partner -- that also got chopped and reworked into a script that wouldn't get used until decades later. That was huge at a time that being queer was officially listed as a mental illness, and villainized due to the AIDS crisis.
So before you try to dismiss or tell K/S + queer Trek fans whether or not they deserve a seat at the table, remember that Gene Roddenberry was among the **first** to pull that seat out for us in a climate that was ruthlessly against LGBT+ folks." -- 1Shirt2ShirtRedShirtDeadShirt
P.S: Have some cute bisexual/pansexual K/S pride gifs. :) Pride month is a hop, skip and a jump away.
LLAP!🖖💚
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rosazoldyckk · 11 months
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Yandere! Silva X Daughter Reader
⚠️warning⚠️ obsessive thoughts and mentions of death
Fandom: Hunter X Hunter. Character(s): Silva Zoldyck, Zeno Zoldyck, Illumi Zoldyck, Milluki Zoldyck
A/N: I DO NOT INTEND FOR THIS CHAPTER TO HAVE ANY RELATIONS TO INCEST!! I'm aware that some things written in this chapter might be mistaken as incest, but I promise I don't intend to make it seem that way.
Of course you can interpret my writing however you want to, I have no issues with that. Just please know I don't write stuff related to incest♡︎♡︎
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"Didn't I tell you to stop killing these poor butlers, father? How do you expect us to be taken care of if you take your rage out on our servents?" The young Assassin grumbled while putting her hands on her hips. Suddenly, the whole estate went silent. However, the rest of the lower butlers blinked and gulped in hope.
At the edge of the room, the young assassin can be seen. Her long H/C hair that shined under the moonlight can put any woman to shame. Her E/C eyes that they inherited from her father were sharp yet adorable. It could not be denied that with her looks and god-given talent for assassination that the girl belonged to the Zoldyck family.
With their sudden appearance, Silva lowered his guard and relaxed. It could be seen by his face that he adored the presence of his dearest daughter. With a soft tone, he asked, "Y/N, dear, what are you doing here? I thought you were out of the house."
The Lower butlers secretly beg the assassin to spare them from their death. By doing this, not only do they have a higher chance to survive, but they could also continue to contribute in caring for the Head's most adored daughter, Y/N Zoldyck.
One with no common sense would simply assume that Y/N was the glass child of the Zoldyck family, but behind closed doors they couldn't be any more wrong. Y/N was the glue that kept the family together. She was known to be cruel, sadistic, and outstanding in the art of assassination. However, there were people such as her siblings that could see the other side of her. Most of the time, Y/N was a kind and calm individual outside of work. And today just so happened to be a day where she felt generous.
Y/N thought for a bit before shaking her head, "I thought I told you our agreement about killing butlers in the mansion. Their screams can be heard from my room. It would be better if you killed them quickly or just let them free," she sighed as she turned her eyes to the poor butlers that had been severely tortured by electric shock.
Silva on the other hand glared sharply. Although it was subtle, his eyes went smaller, and clenched his hand.
He hated it.
He hated it when HIS daughter ignored him for Illumi.
He despised it when HIS daughter left him alone to play with Kalluto.
He loathed it when HIS daughter was playing video games with Milluki.
He felt sick to his stomach whenever he witnessed HIS daughter braiding Alluka's hair.
He detested it when HIS daughter is 'playing' outside with Killua and his pathetic excuses of friends.
And oh dear god did he want to smash a boulder across his head whenever he saw HIS daughter laughing with her mother and grandfather.
Silva loved his only daughter to death. Every inch of his daughter belonged to him and ONLY him alone. He hated sharing with others, family only being a small exception. If he could, he would lock her in his room and make her look at him and ONLY him alone.
Knowing that the entire family would riot against him if he were to bring harm to the assassin, he buried that plan deep within his heart and continued to be a 'good dad' for her. He forgot the agreement and decided to play it funny so that his daughter could let this case pass.
"I apologize, dear," Silva grumbled with a fake frown. "Unfortunately, these foolish butlers failed their mission and their penalty is nothing but death. I thought it would be great to punish them first but I overlooked an important part,"
Y/N kept her mouth shut and looked at her father. Somehow, Her emotions had stirred up from her father's response. She knew that her father loved her the most out of her brothers. He would remember every word she had said and did not dare to break any promises. Sadly, although she had been feeling generous, today has been a tiring day for her and all she wanted is a good night's rest.
"Just let them free for my sake. I couldn't hear them screaming any longer! Do you know how much their screams had disturbed me from my sleep?! This is a simple agreement and somehow you can't even remember my words. I'm so disappointed in you," Y/N spat in tiredness. As soon as she said that, she quickly turned her back and jumped to her room which is located on the outer side of the fortress.
Silva hid his rage and waved to her daughter's back. "I hope you'll have a nice dream, my sweet Y/N"
Soon after Y/N left the room, the temperature dropped. The butlers shivered as the waited for another wave of electricity to shoot through their bodies, but nothing came. They glanced up at their boss, only to see him with an expressionless face.
Without another word, he allowed the ball of electricity growing on his hand to explode, killing the butlers in an instant. With his eyes full of tenderness, he took a deep breath of air.
"I'll make it up to you, my daughter..."
⁂✧⁂
Zeno sighed tirelessly as he observed his sons actions. "When will he stop with this obsessive behaviour? Those butlers did nothing except make sure Y/N was taken care of, and yet he still killed them? In all my years I've never seen Silva express such madness before."
Illumi sighed in helplessness to his grandfathers words, "Even I'm starting to get a bit bored now, As her beloved eldest brother I must make sure that she is on the path to success. Father doesn't need to get involved when she has me by her side at all times."
"You're right," Milluki replied in annoyance, "Though Y/N is next in line to head the family, seems like dad is a little too eager for her to stay by his side, am I right?" He grumbled as he shoved a handful of chips into his mouth.
The 3 of them shared looks of confusion as Silva finally got up to exit his room.
All they could do is wait.
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just-antithings · 6 days
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I need many people to realize a strong contribution to the purity discourse in media we see among young people is due to radfems & gender criticals poisoning the water supply on sites like this one (tumblr) or other social media since 2014
Seeing teens and young 20-somethings using "porn addicted", "porn-brained", "degenerate", all unironically, those are words you find in alt-right & anti-LGBTQ+ message boards.
It wasn't JUST GCs alone, but many people have been around to see them influence a generation of kids with arguments you see today like
“X in fiction causes abuse"
“x is fetishization"
"Unless you've personally gone through trauma you shouldn't write about it"
“If you HAVE gone through trauma, you can't sexually explore it"
"If you like abuse in fiction you're an abuser in real life”
Hearing kids call random (usually queer!) shippers in fandom "groomers" and "pedophiles" for ships that have been established in fandom for decades, or because of a "power imbalance" between adult characters isn't a coincidence. Hmm, I wonder what other groups use those words?
It's not solely kids alone, it is a combination of:
Online radicalization and disinformation
No spaces for kids
No internet safety/literacy
Steeping censorship in activist language,
lack of education (If you don't know red flags you can't avoid them)
COVID did NOT help
This is why ignoring it will never help, because while thankfully some people grow out of it, it usually happens to people who had some support system or breakthrough in cognitive dissonance. There are plenty of people who are becoming adults and who keep infantilizing themselves
“My brain isn't done until I'm 25, you're all predators" and they're talking to a 30 y/o
That argument is literally being used by UK government officials to block access to gender-affirming healthcare. Infantilizing adults only serves the purpose of stripping agency and rights
They're not being safe. They're not gaining skills. They're participating in a fear-fueled climate of faulty medical misinformation, keeping themselves in a perpetual childish-victim state no matter how old they get and nothing about this is healthy
How do you think a person goes through this world when they've been wholly convinced that you can tell someone is safe because they like "safe" or “wholesome" things, & people who make them uncomfortable via hobbies or interests (not IRL actions) are probably actual criminals?
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gimmeyourlovepls · 10 months
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Trapped
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paring: earth 42! miles morales x reader
warning: cheating, gaslighting, basically not a cute fic
summary: you find out miles is cheating on you, and with a heavy heart, decide to leave him, but he's not letting you go.
a/n: hey! sorry this is the first thing im contributing to this fandom, i have a really long story in my drafts that im still working onnnnn this piece of work is inspired by a fic i either saw on here or ao3, pls tell me if u find it so i can credit them ;-;
Cariño = Honey
¿Entiendo? = Got it?
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"Thanks for coming, have a nice day!" The cahier said as you walked out of a bakery with a box full of cupcakes, along with some chocolates and other snacks you bought earlier. You were basically bouncing with joy, a massive grin present on your face.
Today was you and Miles' 2 year anniversary, and although there had been a couple of bumps on the way, you were happy that both of you were still together. You looked at your phone to check the time and saw that Miles texted you back.
Mi amor <3
You: happy anniversary!
You: i have a surprise for you but its not ready yet
You: I'll text you when its done then you can come over <3
Mi amor <3: aight see you soon princessa
Giggling, you walked over to Miles' apartment building and walked through the hallway towards his room, already searching through your pocket for the extra key he gave you in your bag. As soon as you found it, you opened the door as quiet as you possible could, which was hard as hell with all the stuff you were holding.
You pushed the door open with your feet and walked slowly, and it seemed like Miles didn't hear, you, because you heard no footsteps coming for you. Putting your stuff down on a couch, you walked around trying to find him.
As you neared his room, you started to hear noises that sounded like Miles and something else, you couldn't really tell. You still wanted to surprise him through, so you slowly pulled open the door.
"Miles please..." A girl who had never seen before was on YOUR man's lap, pressing kisses on his face and slightly grinding against him. "Calm down, cariño, I'll take good care of you soon," he said as he held that girl's hips and grinded her hips down with a groan.
You didn't even realize you were crying until you brought your hands over your mouth. You slowly walked backwards and slammed his door, knowing he would be able to tell he got caught, grabbing all your stuff, leaving his extra key that he gave you on a table and running.
Your legs carried you all the way home, though it was a far distance. You couldn't even feel the burn with how sad you were. As soon as you got to your house, you locked all the windows and doors, knowing Miles would try and get in. You just wanted to lay in bed and cry, but you knew you had one more thing to do.
Mi amor <3
You: dont fucking text me anymore, be happy with that girl.
You: by the way, happy anniversary :)
================================================
Scrolling on your phone, feeling sorry for yourself, and eating the snacks meant for you and your now ex was not how you thought your night would go, but the occasional funny video made up for it. You changed out of your nice outfit and wore your most comfortable pajamas (apart from Miles' shirts), stuffing chips into your mouth when you heard banging on your window. Your mom was home and asleep, but she wasn't that heavy of a sleeper, so you went to your window and pulled back the curtains.
"Ugh," you groaned as you saw who was standing behind the glass-pane. "I'm gonna keep knocking if you don't let me in." His voice was muffled, but you understood enough to unlock and open the window for him.
"Hey look-" He started, but you were NOT listening to his BS. "No Miles, you look. I have dealt with you for the past TWO years. Every time you have stared, flirted, or even made out with another girl, I have ignored it and forgiven you. I have NEVER cheated on you, I have even ignored all my male friends for you because you get so jealous. I'm tired Miles, and I can't with you. Please leave."
"Cariño-" Miles pleaded with you. "Don't call me that. That's what you called that girl you were smooching earlier. Go back to her and never talk to me again." You started pushing him towards the window, desperate for him to leave before you either started crying or beating the crap out of him.
"No, we aren't doing this shit." He pushed you backward until your back was against the bedroom door. "Miles, don't-" Your insults dissolved into air as he started to kiss you, the way he did at the beginning of your relationship, when you thought he still loved you. "I ain't leaving you, and there is no way your leaving me, ¿entiendo?"
You wanted to say no, but your heart still longed for him desperately, so you melted into his touch. He noticed your response and pulled back to pull you into a passionate kiss.
It didn't matter what you did, you were trapped, and Miles certainy wasn't letting go.
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hey yall i was feeling silly and decided to writeeeeee hope u at least semi enjoyed it and that u have a good day/night :))))
(also if ur waiting for a part two, dont hold your breath, im literally having the worst writers block ever and can not. HOWEVER, if you have requests, please send them in so i can write thank youuuuuuuuu!)
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kstarsarts · 1 month
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My Wish reimagined, redesigns and a sword-stabby Asha 👹
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I finally drew the boomer :D
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and now…
My contribution to the Wish Rewrite Fandom
A Stabby Asha 👹
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—okay that’s all for the doodles today
some notes on my reimagined Asha below the cut ⬇️
In my reimagined/rewrite Wish universe, Asha is a bit athletic because:
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1.) She just easily grabbed that heavy cabinet (idk if that’s a cabinet) on a grown ass man in one go without struggling.
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2.) Our girl here treaded on water for miles ON A FREAKING DRESS. LIKE GURL WHAT. I THINK THATS A TALENT—
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and 3.) Did she just usain bolt her way down from the castle?—
no fr, it’s what i’ve noticed in the movie. Remember, she was on top of the castle so high up then 20 seconds later she’s already down on the ground. Maybe Star just used their magic on her to help her get down from the castle? however i dont see Star doing that besides from using the books or anything else to use to descend Asha down to the ground or maybe just bad writing—
but it’s funny to think that Asha just sprinted her way down to the ground using the hundreds of stairs inside the castle lol.
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That’s all for now, imma start drawing concepts of my Wish reimagined.
Thanks for listening to my TedTalk (ノ◕ヮ◕)ノ
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Text
Take Me Out
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Bad Batch x Reader Exchange 2024
Crosshair x fem!reader | 4.7k words
Content: drinking, light angst, introspection, fluff, light humor, crushes, relationships, friendship, mentions of war and death, weapons (practice setting)
Prompts: "What am I even looking for?" - "I don't know" & "Sometimes I think some work on your communication skills wouldn't be such a bad idea."
My gift is for the event host - @ghostofskywalker! I was so excited to draw your name and I really hope you enjoy the fic. You put so much work and care into hosting these events for the fandom, it really is appreciated 🤗
I've actually had this story concept in mind for quite a while. I love that pretty much all of your prompts/wish-list items were able to fit in! We've got some platonic Hunter, romantic Crosshair, a little angst, a bit of fluff... Perfect!
Oh, and to keep things spoiler free (on my blog and for the event), this takes place before Order 66 and Omega.
Please go check out the @cloneficgiftexchange blog for all the other contributions to this great event! Fics are being posted all throughout today (4/13/24). Spread the love for fandom writers/creators by reblogging!
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Vandor-3. Clone training facility: recreation sector. Winter.
You sat slumped over the bar, a drink cradled in your arms. You took lazy sips at the liquid, long past its effervescence, in between chewing on the straw. You could smell the evidence of your waning hygiene, being curled in on yourself like this. It disgusted you but not enough to do anything beyond self loathing. To say you were miserable was an understatement.
"Morning, Captain. A bit early for a drink, isn't it?"
The husky voice of the bar's newcomer was unmistakeable in who it belonged to. There were clones abound on this small moon, hundreds of identical-sounding men. But every once in a while you had the pleasure of hearing the one that was different.
You sluggishly swiveled your head and gave Sergeant Hunter a mock salute. He leaned against the bar beside you, seemingly torn between being amused and concerned by what he was seeing.
"Back so soon?" you asked, ignoring his own question. Though your speech wasn't slurred, your voice still betrayed some of the numbness you were working to surround yourself in. Which helped your friend make up his mind on how to feel.
"Easy mission," Hunter shrugged off the topic. "You okay? Did something happen?"
"No," you sighed and forced yourself to sit upright. Best to appear more in control and not give him reason to drag you to the med bay. "That's the problem. Nothing's happened."
Hunter frowned and slid onto the barstool next to you. You caught a whiff of soap as he did, a harsh contrast to your own odor that made you even more upset.
"I don't understand."
Your hands cupped around your glass, condensation pooling around your fingers, and you stared at the melting ice wishing to be as frozen and unfeeling.
"I don't understand, either," you whispered. "Why I'm still so... alone."
"Ah." Hunter placed a sympathetic hand on your shoulder. "That's right, you had that date you were going on. Another dud, then?"
You nodded, still refusing to look away from the ice cubes.
He hummed in thought. Your poor friend. How many times had he now had to come up with some sort of reassuring comment after another one of your failed attempts to find love? At least you were grateful you had such a friend, though. Where others would have made you feel guilty for admitting to loneliness, would have insisted they were company enough and all you had to do was ask for it, it's as simple as that, how dare you feel lonely when you aren't actually alone... Hunter was the one who always saw through to what you really meant. You were not what the other wanted, but you were both wanting, craving that kind of deep, romantic connection that seemed to allude you both. For Hunter, it was obviously his schedule that got in his way. For you... well, that was the mystery.
"You have to keep looking," was the sentiment Hunter settled on this time. He rubbed at your shoulder a bit, as if trying to smooth out your misery.
You huffed. His attempts to comfort were sweet, but not enough. You couldn't help but protest. "But with everyone I meet, I just find out what I don't want. What am I even looking for?"
"I don't know," Hunter shook his head sadly. "I don't know if anyone knows until they find it."
You groaned and slumped back forward, facepalming the bar top and wishing you could sink right into it. Sink down, down, down until you disappeared completely.
"Sorry, Cap," Hunter's now muffled voice attempted to chuckle, lighten the mood. "If I could track down your soul mate, I would. You know I would."
That comment was sweet enough. You forced yourself to stop sinking, lift yourself up again, and face your friend properly.
"I know. And I appreciate that. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to be such a bummer today. It's just... it's been getting harder, is all."
He nodded and you nodded back and nothing further needed to be understood on the matter.
"Were you needing something from me?" you changed the subject. "Or did you come to day drink as well?"
"Ha, ha." Hunter started to get up. "Yeah no, I just wanted to let you know we were back for a few rotations, see if you'd have some time to finally come out and meet the boys."
You lifted up your glass and shook it a bit. "You're too late, I'm afraid. If I'd known you'd be back so soon, I wouldn't have started on this journey of self destruction."
Hunter titled his head at you, some of that trademark concern still showing. "This isn't going to be an all week thing, is it?"
You shrugged. Truthfully, you had no idea what to do with yourself. Making decisions even a day in advance seemed like too big of a commitment in your fragile state.
"I'd rather not meet any more new people right now, if it's all the same to you."
"I wouldn't consider them new. You've heard enough stories about each other by now. It's starting to get weird that you're not meeting, quite frankly."
You wanted to laugh, but the thought of introductions, stiff pleasantries, awkward small talk... It reminded you of every first date that never turned into a second, every dating app chat thread that went nowhere, every high hope you watched turn into disappointment. Even with a group like Hunter's brothers, the Bad Batch, with a reputation of being unconventional, who you'd only be making friends with just like you had with Hunter and every other clone on this moon... it was still too much for you to stomach.
"Sorry, maybe next time."
Hunter frowned, but he didn't overstep. "Suit yourself. Door's still open though. You know where to find us."
He made to walk out but paused to turn back to you for a moment.
"And hey, don't lose hope. We'll find our people soon enough. In the meantime, take care of yourself, alright?"
You waited until the bar doors closed behind him to let your tears fall.
* * *
Vandor-3. Woodland outskirts. Spring.
You were here. Finally.
You weren't able to pinpoint exactly where the turning point occurred, between crying yourself to sleep every night and being able to wake up with a smile on your face. A small one, of course, but a smile nonetheless. You weren't even sure it was something that had happened overnight. Slowly, eventually, the frost over your heart melted, the shadows in your thoughts grew thinner and lighter. Without even realizing you were drawing back the curtains and dusting off the shelves and each day being a little more open than you were the day before.
Your loneliness still existed. It came and went in waves, so while still devastating at times, you were at least afforded with periods of relief. Periods where you could smile again, find fulfillment in your work, and even dare to allow yourself to dream again. And not to mention taking more regular showers. It was always the little things that made the biggest difference, wasn't it?
And now here you were, standing in the early morning sun out in one of the training fields, the Havoc Marauder silhouetted against the sunrise as you shook hands with its crew in a meeting long overdue.
Hunter's stories had done the boys justice. Wrecker was just as larger than life as you'd pictured, aptly choosing to push past your outstretched hand and go in for a bone-crushing hug instead. Tech, who you'd come to know as the brains of the batch, only spared a second to be properly introduced before returning to fidget with some gadget. Echo was all politeness and disciplined respect, with his scomp-salute and ma'ams. And Crosshair... well, he was still on the ship asleep, which you supposed fit with the few facts you knew about him, too.
Hunter beamed beside them, clearly happy you had finally made the effort to meet his squad. His family, really. As a Captain overseeing drill training for the GAR, you knew better than anyone the close bonds these clones formed even before they stepped foot on a battlefield. This meant a lot to him, you being here. You felt awful for postponing so many times.
Once introductions were out of the way, and some pleasant conversation had passed, you eventually ventured out to the part of the training field that actually housed elements for training - your excuse for coming out here to meet everyone. A munitions crate full of shiny new blasters was carried between you and Wrecker while Hunter ran ahead to set up some targets. Tech and Echo went back to the ship to work on repairs.
"Aaaaugh. Only blasters?" Wrecker lamented upon opening the crate.
"Sorry, more budget cuts. This was all I could scrounge up for you guys."
Hunter was much more excited by the new weapons, though Wrecker still picked one up to try out. You held one as well but only used it to demonstrate different techniques. Just because you were good at training didn't mean you were the best at actually fighting.
The three of you picked off the various bottles, pots, and pans that Hunter had set up amongst the tree branches at the edge of the field for a short while. And on more than one occasion you found yourself pausing to breathe in the air and remind yourself that life was good. Maybe not how you wanted it, but it was still good and you'd need to continue to work on appreciating what you had.
After about an hour, there were only three bottles and a pan left, all proving tricky targets due to distance and angle. Hunter had even tried slinging a few knives to no avail.
"Okay I'm calling it," Wrecker announced with a huff. "One more missed shot and I'm blowing them up."
"I'll take that bet."
A new voice, one you'd never heard before, carried across the field. It was delicate and drawling and confident. Hunter chuckled and Wrecker rolled his eyes. And you... you had no idea that everything was about to change.
It was like he was moving in slow motion. Your surroundings blurred as the lanky figure caught the corner of your eye, your heart rate slowing as you turned and took him in. One confident step planted firmly in front of the other as he inched across the field. A sniper rifle perched on his shoulder. A toothpick between pursed lips. An eye surrounded by a reticle and narrowed in determination. He didn't even spare you a glance, and thank the gods, because if he had, you were sure your heart would've stopped beating altogether.
He squared off as soon as he reached the marks, bringing his rile forward to aim in a swift and careful motion. His head rested against the shaft, his tattooed eye squinted through the scope. You imagined him taking this stance a thousand times in his short life. It looked as natural a position as curling up on a couch might look for you.
You couldn't look away, not wanting to miss a single second of whatever this mesmerizing man was about to do. He was still for a moment, impressively so. You realized you were holding your breath as you watched, not wanting even your exhale to interfere with his process.
And then he fired. Once, twice, threefourfive times. Bang, bang, bang. Each in a different direction but no less precise than the one before. The first ricocheted off the pan and hit the green bottle, just as the second hit the red bottle. The three-shot volley was aimed at the branch the bottles sat on, causing it to crack and dangle even closer to the ground. And just when you thought the show couldn't be more over the top, the sniper swiveled his rifle toward the sky at a passing bird, clipped its wing with a shot, and then whipped out a pistol from his hip and fired at the remaining blue bottle just before the branch snapped and fell to the ground.
A few seconds later, the bird tumbled on top of the pile of shattered glass and splintered wood.
"Aaaand training is now over," said Hunter with a nod of his head. He raised his voice as he called out to his brother. "You'd better clean that shit up!"
The sniper flipped him the bird before sauntering off to clean up.
"Uh, you alright?"
Hunter paused in his own packing of gear to give you a concerned look. You were still staring after the newcomer, undoubtedly the lone Batcher you had yet to meet. Crosshair. Your brain had short-circuited with what you had witnessed him do, yes. But it was more than that. There was something about him. Something intriguing and attractive. Different than anyone you had ever known, and yet, somehow feeling so real and comfortable at the same time.
After a few waves of your friend's hand in your face, you snapped back.
"That," you breathed.
Hunter cocked a confused eyebrow.
"That is what I'm looking for."
* * *
Vandor-3. Clone training facility: recreation sector. Summer.
You were insanely busy. Separatist activity was ramping up in almost every corner of the galaxy and the GAR was responding to each new threat with full force. Rotations of new clone units were frequently arriving at the facility, one after another. You'd cycle them through a few trainings to get them certified on whatever was needed and then ship them right back out. And in between were all the additional tasks that needed to be taken care of. Piles of paperwork and coordinating schedules and ship inspections and updated security debriefings.
And yet through it all, you still had time to entertain the one thought that buzzed in the background of your mind: Crosshair. Every meeting, every meal, every training sim, first thing in the morning and last thing at night. He was there. Crosshair, Crosshair, Crosshair. On your mind, in your heart, driving you absolutely mad.
In the beginning you'd pretended it wasn't about him, specifically. You were simply happy to know what you wanted now, that you had a type and it existed. That was all. Hunter had turned up his nose, completely bewildered as to why that would be your type. You hadn't been able to give him much at the time; it would take you many rotations more to start describing the details of your newly discovered attraction.
But over time, it became harder to push aside the nagging thought that you hadn't found what you were looking for, but rather who. Specifically. Exactly. Why try to find someone like him when you already liked... him?
Oh there were plenty of ways you could answer that question, all of them self-deprecating and none of them productive. You could count on one hand now the number of times you had been in the same room as him, let alone interacted with him. The Batch may be frequenting the place more often as the war picked up, but not nearly as often as you needed to gauge whether someone like Crosshair would, could, or honestly even should be as interested in you as you were in him.
Today they were back on the grounds so Hunter could fill out some paperwork, and your heart had not stopped racing all morning. It was practically threatening to punch right out of your chest and run away. You weren't sure why, considering you'd probably only end up seeing Hunter this time. The rest of the Batch usually didn't venture into the facility unless they were staying overnight. But it seemed even knowing Crosshair was on the same planet as you got you worked up these days.
You carried Hunter's stack of paperwork with you now, intending to drop it off to him in between some meetings you had. As you hustled down the halls, you rehearsed a few ways you could subtly ask him how Crosshair was doing.
But as it turned out, you would have the opportunity to ask him yourself. If you could get over your frazzled shock at finding him in the rec room instead of Hunter.
The room was conveniently empty, making the silence between you that much more potent. Crosshair was standing awkwardly to the side, just behind one of the battered sofas, as if he had already been confused about what he should be doing before you pushed through the door. He stared at you and you stared at him and the moment only lasted for a few seconds but it felt like an eternity.
"Oh, um. Hi. Crosshair." You averted your gaze, despite having prayed the past several nights that you could see his face again soon. "I was... expecting Hunter."
That didn't sound right. You hoped he didn't take that to mean that you'd prefer if Hunter was here now. Obviously you didn't.
"He stepped out," Crosshair responded in that cool, even tone of his. Your eyes couldn't help but snap back to his as he talked. You wanted him to say more but he never did.
"Oh, okay. I just had some paperwork to give him."
Crosshair only hummed at first. You shuffled your feet a bit, debating whether you should make an attempt at small talk, try to coax more out of him, maybe even hint that you were interested in him. The thought terrified you, but not as much as the thought of being alone. You couldn't complain about that if you continued to let these opportunities pass by without at least trying to make a connection.
You shifted your weight again, intending to keep your feet planted so you wouldn't make a run for it, and Crosshair uttered your name hurriedly.
"Wait," he said. He'd thought you were leaving. You widened your eyes at him, waiting to hear what he'd wanted to tell you first. He seemed to hesitate before finally saying, "I was wondering if you knew what soup they were serving today?"
"Oh. Uh, potato, I think."
"How boring."
You smirked. "I know, right? They could at least serve it with some hot sauce."
Crosshair hummed.
The silence settled back in, though now you felt better about things. You'd practically had a conversation. Learned a little more about each other. It was a good start. 
Your commlink suddenly beeped at your side and you blanched, remembering the meeting you were supposed to be heading to.
"I uh, I've got to go. It was nice talking to you."
It pained you to cut off your moment with him so quickly, but alas you were left with no choice. You shuffled back out into the corridor, though you only made it a few steps before realizing you still had Hunter's paperwork and could just leave it with Crosshair.
The rec room had an old school door that swung in and out on hinges. It was slightly ajar from when you passed through, and already in the few seconds since something was happening on the other side of it. You could hear more voices.
"...the kriff was that?" First, the deep tones of Hunter, equal parts annoyed and weary.
"That wasn't the plan." Then, the resolute voice of Echo, backing him up.
"What?" Crosshair bit back at them.
"You were supposed to ask her out," Hunter clarified.
"No, that was not the plan," Crosshair countered. "I needed to lay some groundwork first."
"You call that groundwork? You were talking about soup."
"And she agreed. No one ever agrees with me on the soup around here."
"What a special connection," Echo said.
Hunter sighed so hard you swore you could feel the breeze through the doorway. "You know, sometimes I think some work on your communication skills wouldn't be such a bad idea."
"What?"
"Never mind. Do what you like. Keep pushing away anyone who tries to love you and see where that gets you. Just know that it's exhausting, watching the two of you dance around each other like this."
"And kind of pathetic," added Echo.
You were against the wall by the door, holding in your breath for so long you were about to pass out. Or maybe it was the euphoria of knowing Crosshair was interested that made your head sway. Regardless, you had mere moments to make a move or let the opportunity pass. You dug into your pocket, fished out a pen, and scribbled a note on the top page of paperwork. Was it professional? Absolutely not. But the GAR would get over it. You left the papers by the door, making sure your note was turned to face it.
There's better soups on Coruscant. Let's go out sometime.
* * *
Vandor-3. Woodland outskirts. Autumn.
You were alone, standing in the middle of the training field, the early setting sun behind you casting a dim shadow across the remains of your latest training exercise. A chill was just starting to set in, causing you to tug at your jacket and pull it around you a bit tighter. You liked these moments, rare as they were recently. A quiet time to yourself. Not even to think, but simply to be. Present and comfortable. And you.
The wind picked up and sang through the taller blades of grass as a ship approached for landing. Your moment was over, but a new happiness settled in its place. Minutes later, the Havoc Marauder was opening its hatch and spitting out its soldiers.
"Captain," Hunter gave you a two-finger salute as he passed by.
"Sergeant," you returned with a smile.
Echo was close behind, giving you a respectful nod. Wrecker hauled a munitions crate in one hand and hit you up for a high five with the other. Tech was oblivious as he hunched over a data pad.
They filed by, one after the other, headed straight for the barracks, and what you hoped were the showers. They all knew not to linger, that you'd catch up with them later. This was your time with Crosshair.
The sniper was leaning up against the hatch opening, arms folded across a plastoid chest and a toothpick lazily perched between slightly curled lips. He took you in for a moment and you could feel yourself glowing in response to his soft gaze.
"Showing those clankers who's boss, I see," he said as he made his way down the gangway. He nodded his head toward the mess of scrap metal behind you.
You gave a half shrug. "My reaction time is getting better, but I still can't get the angles right with those pucks."
Crosshair inched up to you, gently resting his hands on either side of your waist. "Have you been doing the breathing exercises like I showed you?"
You nodded. Your hands instinctually came up to his run along his arms until they found the crook of his elbows, the only place not barring your touch by armor.
"And using the laser sight?"
You nodded a little slower and Crosshair tsked.
"I want to be good without it. Like you." You added a little extra honey to your words so he wouldn't reprimand you too much. It had been an adjustment for the two of you at first, he stepping into a training role and you stepping back to receive instruction for once. Thankfully the frustrations seemed to diminish the more your relationship progressed.
"You have to be patient," he said, giving your waist a slight squeeze to accentuate his point. "You aren't like the regs you train. You're building your skills, taking care of yourself."
You hummed, more in thought than agreement. "Will I ever have to use these skills someday, do you think? Is it really getting that bad out there?"
You tried not to think about how many soldiers you had trained only to be sent to a battlefield to die. How many of the shinies you were drilling right now would likely be killed soon. How many more would be brought in to take their place. You'd thought you'd known what you were getting yourself into with this job. But the relentless cycle of it all was getting to you more and more, especially as the Republic continued to be challenged in larger scales and higher stakes. It never seemed to end.
"It's hard to say," Crosshair responded. "We have to prepare for the worst."
You hated that answer, but you wouldn't let him see it. Not yet. Your fears and your displeasures, anger and sorrow, were things yet to be fully explored in this new relationship. All in due time. So you simply smiled, plucked the toothpick out of his mouth and tossed it aside. 
"And hope for the best, right?"
He smiled back, or at least moved his mouth in the direction of a smile, as much as you could usually get from the reserved man. "Yes, of course."
He leaned forward and rested his forehead against yours. You both closed your eyes and breathed each other in. There was warmth in his embrace. A promise in the steady hands he held you with. Vulnerability in the skin that gently touched yours. To have someone this close, someone who was still more stranger than friend, though no less beloved, was what you had always wanted. And for once, what you wanted was just as lovely and fulfilling as you'd hoped. No catch. No deals. No unintended consequences. Just you and him and happiness.
All too soon he pulled away. His hand sought yours as he turned in the direction of the barracks. The longer you stayed behind, the worse the teasing from the others would be. They were only respectful of your relationship to a point, and after that it was fair game for a laugh. So you willingly followed.
"Crosshair?"
"Hm?"
"I was thinking about Hunter...."
The sniper glanced at you suspiciously.
"Well, you know he and I have been friends for a while. And he's confided a few things in me before. About what he wants. Or thinks he wants. He's changed his mind a few times on the specifics. But all in the same gist."
"Where are you going with this?"
"I don't know, I just feel like I owe him for helping me get through a tough time. And if it weren't for him, I wouldn't have ever met you. So--"
Crosshair cut you off with a groan. "If you're trying to get me to play matchmaker..."
"It would get some of the attention off of us," you quickly offered. "If Hunter had someone he was bringing around, too. Or even just interested in."
Crosshair frowned in thought. "There was a bartender on Scarif he kept checking out..."
You grinned and squeezed his hand affectionately. "See? Just keep an eye out and nudge him a bit. Who knows what could happen."
You could tell he was trying not to roll his eyes for your sake. Instead he squeezed your hand in return. "Or you could come with us and nudge him yourself?"
Your walking slowed, right as you were about to cross the facility boundary line. You would have to let go of his hand once you crossed it, keep a professional distance, share your company with others. And once the Batch's business here concluded, then you would have to let him go and watch him disappear into the sky with all the prayers you could possibly send with him. And then you would be on your own. Waiting, waiting, always waiting. And maybe he would return, and maybe he wouldn't.
And heaven forbid you would ever end up alone again.
"Or you can stay," he said. The quietness of his voice betrayed what he really meant, what he really wanted. 
And you knew what you wanted, too. Without you realizing, it was getting easier and easier for you to define your desires. And not only that, but to pursue them, too. To know your happiness was worth the risk of disappointment. It was clear to you now that you were not only worthy, but also capable. The man standing before you, holding your hand, gazing at you like nothing else mattered, was proof enough.
And so you said, "Take me with you."
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otgo-brooklyn · 11 months
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Older Brother!Slider with Baby Brother!Ice
Okay, so another contribution rant to the Top Gun Fandom:
Big Brother Slider, but ONLY, ONLY to Ice. And not the generic sibling relationship, no, but Ice is his Baby Brother.
For any who don't have that 'Baby' Sibling, as an eldest child, let me explain: A sibling is a younger, less better, version of yourself because your parents were a bit delusional and now there is Another™.
HOWEVER, a Baby Sibling, a BABY Sibling? No, they are essentially your own child, typically the youngest, they are your pride and joy, and when I tell you that with a Baby Sibling you become so protective over them you would commit horrible crimes for them- literally becoming an attack dog on a leash held by said Baby Sibling, that is a true Baby Sibling/Older Sibling relationship. The minute they are born they're just, your child, like so what the birth certificate says that their parents are my parents, that's obviously a lie. They legitimately become your child in more ways than one, whose only role in life is to be happy and loved. And this is SO the relationship between Slider and Ice.
Ice is the Baby Sibling™, with Slider as the protective older brother. Slider makes sure that Ice is happy, and cared for/loved, protected, everything for the Baby™. I cannot explain enough how much I love this head-cannon, and all the proof I'll ever need to explain it is this one GIF;
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Look at Slider, the protective arm around the shoulder, the glare, the judgement in his very being, the way his jaw tenses-, compared to Ice, who is just sitting there, not even noticing, focusing on something else all happy like (Or as happy as Ice can get while in Ice-man mode (Or as happy as one can get when translating languages, if you saw my other post about Russian!Ice ;D)).
Slider nearly getting kicked out of the Top Gun program due to beating a fellow pilot unconscious because he DARED shit talk Ice
So they never gave Slider a DOB/specified age in Top Gun, but his actor, Rick Rossovich is 2 years older than Val Kilmer, so that only furthers the point of Slider's Older Brother Agenda
One time Goose was showing Ice how to cartwheel after Ice was interested in how he did it on the deck of the ship they were stationed on and Slider refused to allow Ice to do it because "What if he falls and cracks his skull open on the tarmac Goose!"
When reassured that Ice cracking his skull open isn't going to happen, and Goose was only going to demonstrate, Slider still wont budge on it. Ice never learned how to do a cartwheel to this day
Ice's foot getting caught in the track and wheels of a stationary, not turned on/working tank on accident and one singular, quiet, whispered "ow" after pulling it out of said track/wheel, was all it took to have Slider screaming his head off carrying Ice into medical absolutely positive that Ice just "Broke his own god-damn ankle, GET A MEDIC-"
Someone shoving past Ice on their way to the mess hall in a rush, causing Ice to stumble back literally 2 steps, and Slider getting in their face, slamming them into a wall with a "I swear you put your hands on Ice one more time, your not gonna have hands AT ALL"
He then slings his arm around Ice's shoulder and directs him to the mess hall, glaring at any poor soul who dared look in Ice's direction
They were at the bar and a woman started to approach Ice, who, of course was not noticing (he only has eyes for a 5'7" gremlin named Mav), and Slider shuts that down REAL QUICK. Like, no, not today Lilith, pick a different naval guy-
Give Mav The Talk when he notices Mav giving eyes to Ice, and Goose because Slider can never be too sure, and everyone observing this is sitting there like 'what the actual fuck' after Slider threatens to, and I quote, "French braid your fuckin' nervous system you shitty dwarf" towards Maverick amongst other colorful threats
It gets to the point where Slider is so protective over Ice, people don't ask Ice anything without looking to Slider for some kind of acceptance or denial, like;
Hollywood: Hey Ice do you wanna- Slider, the coldest look ever seen, actively dropping the temperature in the room while promising a slow and tortuous death: Hollywood: -help me figure out this trajectory angle equation for this [classified] mission? Ice, absolutely oblivious to the entire situation: Sure? I guess?
Its single-handedly the funniest and most terrifying thing to ever happen in Top Gun history, aside from whoever decided to put Maverick Mitchell in a plane
And the cherry on top is that Ice DOESN'T HAVE A CLUE at the entire situation
When someone tries saying how terrifying Slider is to Ice he just brushes it off, like, "Oh Slider? No he's very nice, he even walks with me wherever I have to go in the day. He's all bark and no bite"
And everyone in the immediate vicinity just looking at Ice either with pity or like he's stupid because he doesn't know
He never figures it out either
(This overprotectiveness doubles, if not triples when he meets baby Bradley Bradshaw, and Slider just cant compute because now there is another person who has my undying love and protection-)
(Goose once lost Bradley on a very important, very large Naval destroyer and the entirety of the Top Gun Class of '86 is frantically searching the entire ship before Viper finds out and one of them just stumbling into Slider sitting on a couch with Ice and Bradley just absolutely passed out, sleeping like a brick, essentially using him as human furniture, and the look Slider gives them promises a 100 years of death if they wake either of them up-)
(After Goose's death when baby Bradley lives with IceMav, he just clings onto Slider whenever he's over because "I feel safest with Pops, but Pops feels safest with Uncle Sli', so I'm safest-est with Uncle Sli'")
(Mav doesn't know whether to cry because that is so cute- or be annoyed that Slider is preferred over himself)
(After Bradley reconciles with Mav, he's caught sleeping(read absolutely dead to the world) on Slider's chest like when he was as a child and no one knowing what to do because "Rooster that is a 2-STAR ADMIRAL OF THE US NAVY-" Slider is just like "I'm safest-est", and Bradley sleepily chiming in with a "safest-est" and deciding to just go back to sleep like nothing happened)
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As the World Wizard Entertainment tournament finalists attempt to fireball their way to victory, I think it is not too early to announce the winner of a special award. The title of Archmage of Congeniality is given to the wizard who has most made this competition enjoyable.
Given that these wizards are fictional characters who are not literally participating in a tournament and interacting with one another, this title actually recognizes a contingent of fans who have dedicated themselves to enthusiastic fannish participation, passionate fandom fun, and positive engagement in the course of campaigning for their chosen wizard.
With maverick strategy that highlighted her prodigious bust size, called on the legacy of Exandria's greatest mage slayer, leveraged the relationship with her opponent and arcane mentor, and created many delightful new fanworks, the supporters of this wizard exemplified the spirit of campaigning for one's fave to win meaningless polls in a way that was constructive and uplifting and that brightened our dashboards with whimsy and passion.
In recognition of the spell of joy and delight that this wizard's supporters cast on this small corner of the fanspace during this silly series of polls, I bestow on Veth Brenatto the title of Archmage of Congeniality of the World Wizard Entertainment tournament.
Congratulations to Archmage Brenatto and especially (with all the loving sincerity in the world) to her fans and supporters who made this competition surreal, unexpected, and more enjoyable than it had any right to be.
One level in wizard goes a very, very long way. Live, Love, Veth.
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To break character, though I have done quite a bit already in this post, and at the risk of repeating a lot of a post I made earlier today: I am full of genuine love for all of you who contributed to #VethSweep posting and made this tournament incredibly entertaining. I am also so excited for the Veth fans amidst this outpouring of support and shenanigans in her name—I hope some of this energy sticks around and adds to your ranks. All that I've said in this grandiose speech is all so very sincere, and my heart is full of joy and delight this evening.
Veth is not the grand final winner of the tournament, but she is absolutely and thoroughly the winner of our hearts.
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sitp-recs · 18 days
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12 fics I’ve enjoyed recently…
Last year I did a short-lived “weekly rereads” series to spread love for old favourites that kept me afloat when reading new things became a struggle. I was looking for ways to stay active and contribute to the fandom with minimal effort, and I found solace in revisiting fics that I hold dear in my heart. This year, spring brought the @dronarryfest to pull me back into reading mood. Fandom is starting to speak to me again after a very long time, and the euphoria hit me with inspiration to write this short rec post for my recent reads. I am joining the party a bit late but on the off chance these escaped your radar, here are some fics I’ve really enjoyed during my catch up moment in February/March, and a few I’m planning to dive into next. It’s so nice to be able to write comments and rec blurbs again! What have y’all been reading lately?
HP fics:
Wet Leather by @lqtraintracks (E, 492 words) - Harry/Sirius
I live for LQT’s rare pair drabbles especially when it’s for my beloved Sirry because nobody writes this ship like them. The A+ characterization always takes my breath away: so much tension laced with yearning, it feeds my horniest deepest Sirry cravings tripping between guilt and absolution. This short is full of heat, want and sweet indulgence, with the usual tenderness underneath driving me up the wall and making me soft and hot for these two. Also, “my drenched little pup” excuse sir I’m??? 🥵
Nightswimming by @sweet-s0rr0w (M, 5k) - established Drarry, Dron, implied Dronarry
One of my instant faves this year, what a masterclass in tension building! As always, I’m so impressed by sweets’ short form. The brilliant banter and relentless sexual tension put me at the edge of my seat praying for MOAR. The atmosphere is so captivating I could feel the temptation on my fingertips, and have I even mentioned Ron’s spot on voice?? Superb bromance dynamics, late night drive aesthetics, an impressive amount of characterization within 5k and a teasing ending full of promise, come and feast!
Borrowed Time by @the-starryknight (E, 7k) - Dron + Harry
Another delicious Dronarry treat, now showcasing established Dron, body swap, the sexiest UST you’ll see today and an incredibly satisfying payoff. Once again Starry delivers peak romance with their “hot & sweet” trademark mixing compelling dialogue, witty flirting and uncomplicated smut full of want but also trust, understanding and intimacy. Forget the maddening anticipation, the domestic slice-of-life tone made me swoon - the characters are so clearly fond and familiar with each other it’s only natural for them to come together like this.
Heart to Hearth by @jtimu (E, 7k) - Drarry
This fic is a breath of fresh air and I still remember how excited I felt reading it for the first time. I’ll never get tired of seeing Harry get utterly horny confused at an attractive and carefully guarded Draco being competent at his odd yet surprisingly fitting job. Repairman Draco is indeed mouthwateringly efficient with his long hair and coveralls, and their tentative and awkward dynamics are just excellent. Love the subtle humour, the bits of repair magic theory and the earnest slow burn, with a smooth progression towards deliciously indulgent smutty times. Amazing concept, perfectly executed.
Long Haul by @wolfpants (E, 8k) - Drarry
Wolf is killing it lately, loved their Dronarry but this fic stole my heart with the long haul love premise. The image of their encounter - Harry holding his passport between his teeth, Draco with Muggle headphones around his neck - stayed with me the whole night. Harry loves flying and connects with NYC for the same reasons I do, so this fic spoke to me in a very personal way. I love everything from the title and bold flirting to the scorching hot and intimate smut with smooth daddy Draco! Not too long ago I prompted Florence’s “End of Love” for Wireless - unknowingly, Wolf wrote the NYC fic I’ve dreamed about when I thought of it 💜
Permanent by @citrusses (M, 14k) - Drarry, Dron
I’ve always been drawn to time travel and Citrus set up a thrilling, mysterious mood that’s impossible to resist. I was deeply intrigued not only by the plot but also by the complexity of these characters - a belligerent Harry with daddy issues and a saviour complex (yes pls!), edgy and focused Hermione, perceptive and kind Ron charming his way inside our hearts, and a lonely Draco trying to make sense of the plot, handle his feelings and find his foot in the post-war world. I loved being inside his mind - such brilliant characterization - and seeing the golden trio through his eyes. This fic has a wistful, melancholy tone mirroring Draco’s longing for Harry that hit me right in the solar plexus. It is also a great Ron study, and I’ll admit that made me fall even harder for Dron. Finally, it is tender and devastating as all good things are. A brilliant read and an instant favorite.
Dick Chicken by @oknowkiss (E, 15k) - Harry/Draco/Ron
Believe me when I say this is the Seinfeld AU you didn’t know you needed because you don’t wanna miss out on this. Hands down one of the most entertaining fics I’ve read in a while, this is hysterical funny, witty and steamy. The perfect mix of crack-y and casually horny vibes with a quirky Draco, a lovable and relatable Harry, and a hot Ron who’s 100% there for the ride, this chaotic trio will pull you into an unhinged journey and you’re gonna thank them for that 🤣 superb Harry pov, a warm and playful atmosphere that feels intoxicating, and a glorious shower scene followed by a fake orgasm competition. You’re heard it right. Run don’t walk!
Knot Your Average Coworkers by @thecouchsofa (E, 22k) - Drarry
Office romance is my kryptonite and I couldn’t stop giggling as I made my way through this wolf!Draco treat. I was instantly smitten with the charming characters, the delightful silly knotting jokes 🌝 and the good old oblivious friends/coworkers to lovers dynamics that always gets me. Pining Harry wooing Draco through cooking is SO my jam, the perfect mix of sweet comfort & unbearable UST that fills me with joy and anticipation while also wanting to smash their heads together “kiss kiss fall in love” style. Yum!
Cargo Case by @sleepstxtic (E, 23k) - Drarry
This was such an exciting ride, I love the inherent yearning & intimacy of break up/make up stories and this case fic kept me engaged and rooting for Drarry (and Pansy/Parvati!) the whole time. It was wonderful to see them not being antagonistic after a break up for a change - there’s delicious ust, fabulous Draco & Pansy brOTP, not to mention their super cool job. I was as invested in the plot as I was in the romance, and I’ve had a really fun time following them around. Undercover boyfriends for the win!!!!
Truth to Materials by @toomuchplor, lately (E, 54k) - Drarry
Another fabulous plor fic as per, this artist!Draco story immediately won my heart with the hilarious opening scene and the perfect combo of Draco’s “brazen gay” voice and Harry’s “bi panic” mind. What a delight! Love the clever dialogue, the mood so chaotic horny but the humorous tone making me giggle my way through the delicious loo sex scene. Unique premise, great pacing, fantastic cast and charming characterization - this fic is so easy to devour it doesn’t feel like a 50k journey at all. The story is great fun, very engaging but also delivering multiple tender and heartkick-y moments. It checks all my boxes including our king Ron Weasley putting a banana into Draco’s sculptural arsehole 🤣 what else could I ask for?
Skybound by @xanthippe74 (T, 61k) - Drarry
As a longtime fan of Ghibli’s movies, I was over the moon to see one my own faves adapted to fit the HP universe. This is the Howl’s Moving Castle AU we deserve, a light, enchanting and fun read with a lovely smooth Draco and a lovely earnest Harry making such a great pair. I love how Xan played with the original material making adjustments here and there, and giving life to Timpsy, the apprentice elf with a whole subplot involving mistreatment of magical beings. Very sweet and creative read!
Other fandoms:
a man—with human flesh by spqr (E, 14k) - Paul/Duncan, Dune
I love that this author writes for all of my favorite ships, I feel so spoiled! This is (yet another) banger following the 2nd Dune movie and a fascinating dive into Paul’s fractured mind struggling between his long-standing affection for Duncan and the intrusive thoughts under BG’s influence. So intense, vivid and thought-provoking. I was hooked from beginning to end and deeply immersed in this universe. Love me a fic about emotional implications and complications while delivering excellent character studies, this is the shit I live for right here 🤌🏼
Next up on my to-read list:
Home series by @hoko-onchi-writes (E, 22k)
In which Draco grows up hiding and finds out he doesn't want to do that anymore. And he doesn't want his son to hide, either. (…). In which Harry grows up in darkness, falls in love, fucks up, learns some things, and falls in love again.
Passing Stranger by @lettersbyelise (E, 53k)
Five years after the war, Harry, listless and depressed, stumbles upon Draco Malfoy playing the violin in an underground bar in Muggle London. The catch? Draco lost his memories five years ago. Ignoring his friends’ advice, Harry befriends an unwitting Draco, overlooking the fact that their mutual attraction might not survive if Draco’s memories return.
The Star Splitter by @oflights (E, 219k)
On a routine time travel assignment to the past, Draco stumbles upon 7-year-old Harry Potter and witnesses his neglect and mistreatment by the Dursleys. In the moment, there is only one solution, even if it goes against all his training as a Time Agent: he has to bring Harry back to the future with him. In which Draco burns his life down for the sake of his former school rival.
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