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A Parliament of Rooks

the many places here can mean

This will be a very short and slow growing list of recs since I don't read copious amounts of fic and I have funny tastes.

Freedom is Just Another Word for Nothing Left to Lose by synecdochic
Why this must be read:
This is a Stargate: Atlantis story which is not one of my fandoms in any way shape or form. How I found my way to it is a tangled mess of links and recs and more links that were all very worth it. Whether you know anything about the Stargate fandoms or not this absolutely worth your time to read. It's a story about the fallout of a life lived in danger, in secret, in brilliance and of a last heroic decision that might be the best or worst thing ever done. The man produced is the kind of teacher few of us are lucky enough to encounter and fewer still to recognize for his worth. So. Go read it.

Seed Pearls by Honor H
Why this must be read:
Honor H has talent, dedication, and stone-cold vocabulary not often seen in fanfiction. Even still, this story stands out as a shining example of the brilliant worlds and stories Doctor who can inspire. Here, Honor H writes a world so convincing that your heart will be tugged in directions you didn't expect and you'll root for the one least likely. Gorgeous story, astounding layers, absolutely worth your time.

Fic: Fade To ... the inevitable fangirl Fic
Fandom: Fangirl
Characters: Simon/Baz, (Cath)
Rating: Mature-ish
Note: If somehow you, the internet, missed that Rainbow Rowell brilliant wrote about fangirling and fanfictiona nd slash fanfiction go read now. Then come back here.

            “Boyfriend,” Baz repeated, bouncing a fireball, like it was made of rubber, against a suggestion of a fortress wall. “We already know college--”
            “University,” Simon corrected, rolling his eyes.
            Baz held up a hand like, gurl please. “I haven’t been Brit-picked yet. We already know college and that was patchy for what—a day? This is different.”
            Simon wheeled his slow pace around, tugging his cape—now fur-lined, now not—straight at the neck. He glared up at the scuttling clouds, at the on-again off-again torrential-again snowflakes, at the weather in general. This standard between wintery-scene shite was the worst. It gave him the feeling that somebody had gotten the vague idea enough time had passed that a change in the weather was due but some rereading needed to be done first and some timelines made firmer to make sure. It left him wondering if he’d also suddenly sprout longer hair. Which was disorienting, And itchy.
            “Would you relax?” Simon turned when Baz, predictably, threw the fireball at him. Baz had a tendency to fall into his old canon habits while they waited. Simon caught and returned the ball with a grin. “It’s been, like, three days.”
            “Three internet days,” Baz said, throwing the ball higher against the fortress wall, testing how tall it had been written this time. “Scaleable,” Baz pronounced before turning on Simon. “Three internet days, Snow. That’s like thirty actual years; by the time she updates we’ll pretty much be a throw back. We’re bell bottoms and vinyl.”
            “Vinyl’s big right now.”
            “We’re too mainstream for the hipsters,” Baz said in his no-nonsense I can’t believe you would fucking suggests that to me, Snow, tone.
            “Maybe if you weren’t a goddamned vampire.”
            “Thank you, how very  Holden Cauffield,” Baz dropped to his back with a huff, swimming out a snow angel.
            Simon looked on, aghast. “You’re right: boyfriend.”
            “I know I’m right. But how do you know I’m right?”
            “You’re making a snow angel. You’ve never made snow angels before.”
            “I’ve never had to wait around this long before,” Baz said snidely but he looked out at his arms and blinked snowflakes, barely melted, from his lashes. “You think stuff is creeping in.”
            Simon nodded. “That’s the usual boyfriend pattern.”
            “That’s the usual crush pattern.”
            “Not with this one. She’s so canon faithful…. Have I…been doing this thing…with my hair lately? Like….”
            “Like running your hand through it to make sure it’s still messy?” Baz asked, unwontedly solemn. “Yeah.”
            “Yeah,” Simon said, knotting his knuckles in his hair.
            “Yes?” Said Simon.
            “Simon,” Baz corrected, since they’d crossed that bridge months ago. “I have a confession. I’ve started drinking coffees.”

(1 of 2)
            “Coffees. In the morning. And the afternoon. With too much milk.”
            “You’ve been drinking lattes?!”
            “Did you just speak with made up punctuation? She hates that. It’s been way, way too long. You’re going feral.”
            “You’ve been drinking lattes. I think even she would agree the situation calls for an interrobang.”
            “They taste like Christmas!”
            “Oh my god, are you grinning?”
            “Shut up, you’re grinning.”
            “I’m always grinning.” I’m Simon goddamn Snow.
            “Yeah but, I mean I think I just realized that when someone grins like that, anyone would, any sane person, would grin back?”
            “Boyfriend!” Simon shouted.
            “Boyfriend!” Baz shouted like, I know!
            “Well, on the bright side,” Baz said after a long pause during which Simon had also flopped down in the snow. Baz quirked his eyebrows and shifted his gaze in a very deliberate fashion.
            “Did you just look at my crotch?”
            “I looked at the nebulous region between your legs that is variously stirring or hard or heated and yet still nebulous.”
            “So my crotch?”
            “Crotch,” Baz repeated, deviously. “Maybe we’ll get cock or dick or balls. Head. Suck. Fuck. Blow,” he said dreamily.
            Simon felt a blush rising in his cheeks but Baz had a point. “Maybe at least penis.”
            “She hates ‘penis’.”
            “How do you know?”
            “How could she not? Too Latin, too reptilian. Penisssssss.”
            “Reptiles are sexy. Snake in the garden and all that.”
            “Reptiles are sexy? They make people want to scream and run away. Particularly people who are girls.”
            “No girls here. We’re gay.”
            “No,” Baz corrected. “We’re straight-girl gay. There’s always a girl here.”
            “But it’s her. She’s good a this stuff. I mean….”
            “Snow, we don’t even speak gay.”
            “What do you mean?”
            “I don’t even know. That’s the point.”
            “I don’t follow.”
            Baz turned up on one elbow with a look on his face that said, hate to break it to you, kid (not to be confused with the banned spell, “Here’s looking at you, kid” which actually melted actual panties). “We’ve been together a year, Snow. And, you know, like, basic shit? Like, which one of us likes to…be…on the bottom?”
            “Baz?!” Simon interrobanged like he was choking.
            “Okay, okay. Less threatening one. Where’s our gay posse?”
            “I don’t think that’s a real thing.”
            “Of course it’s a real thing! I mean, we’re 18-year-old guys, who do we get to brag to about our escapades?”
            “I don’t really brag….” Simon caught Baz’s my point, exactly look and stammered, “Our friends. I mean Penelope swears she knew how I felt about you before I did.”
            “That’s love stuff. What about sex stuff?”
            “What about it?”
            “You can’t talk to straight people about gay sex.”
            “What? Of course you can. Look at our readership.”
            “Our readership is straight women who want adorable, tragic pocket gays.”
            “Pocket gays do not get to have sex.”
            “But we have sex.”
            “We have fade to straight dialogue and morning after.”
            “Like right now?”
            “Not like right now. Right now is just because we’re laying in the snow with otherwise half-developed scenery and it’s boring to read about non-threatening cold seeping into a cloak that may or may not be fur-lined.”
            “My ears are really cold.”
            “I hope she comes back soon so we can go inside.”
            “How do you think it’ll be?” Simon looked down, remembering that shooting star battle and his singed left hand. “You said the wall’s scaleable this go round, right?”

(2 of 2)

PS: Reagan wrote the mean gay stuff. Shocker.

Comment posted in 2 parts by Wrenegade and thenReagansaid, April 2012, posted to “Carry On, Simon” by FanFixx.net author Magicath
Tags: ,

(no subject)
Ever taken a peek back at stories you wrote yeas before and wondered, "How the hell did I write hundreds of thousands of words about someone else's character?" And then immediately thereafter read a succession of comments that boiled down to, "Nice but too short" and therefore decided bagels were a much better idea than picking up writing for the internet again. 

(no subject)
Cumberbatch in Star Trek?

DeHaan in Spiderman?

Hollywood, are you spying on my dreams?

Let's be serious, the far more exciting thing is Cumberbatch in something by Stoppard (Parade's End) but I am still angry that I'm just learning about this now.

(no subject)
A) Am I wrong or is this exactly the premise of Lost Girl?

Fic: The Radio Star
Author: missnyah
Disclaimer: Nothing Batman-related is mine. Also, nothing news-related is mine as it is based on actual people and things happening in the news.
Rating: PG
Summary: In a besieged Gotham, word travels at the speed of footsteps in the dark and notes slipped under doors. But in Selina's neighborhood there is a secret and a small hope and voices from the outside. Selina/Bruce. Dark humor.
Note: Product of the Tears of a Clown Meme which asks for a plot point based on the last thing that made you, the writer, cry.

are you crying?Collapse )

Meme: Crocodile Tears
I'm not really sure how one goes about STARTING a meme but I would like to do that. So, please play along if you would like.

Meme: Think of the last thing that made you cry. Be honest. Like, if if was a traditional tragedy like loss or something horribly frustrating but superficial like dropping your phone in the toilet or some incredibly noble shit someone did that made you glad to be part of the human race, just go with it. Then pick a fandom and apply it to a character or characters (or rpf) in a comment-sized or longer story and then post here or give me a heads up so I can read it.

e.g. Time permitting I will absolutely write a story tonight that has Selina Kyle crying about Justin Bieber getting a speeding ticket (which I did because A) I am a crazy person as evidenced by A and also by B) I don't even know who Justin Bieber is) And it won't even be (entirely) crack. I know. You're curious. 

(no subject)
Dristi, The Dark Knight Rises, Bruce Wayne/Selina Kyle, R

she'd like to be able to wash him outof her sheetsCollapse )

(no subject)
So today I was hanging with some friends at a dive near our place of employment and the police helicopter aka ghetto bird was zig-zagging, pretty much sharing air space with the med evac helicopters that kept coming in and lo and behold I conceived of a perfectly cracked AU in which The Dark Knight franchise takes place in Baltimore and Chris and Snoop take Bane on because Batman is taking too long. I mean, how great a film would that be?

Good night.

Holy Cats, Batman! I wrote something
... Or a part of something, the rest of which is off to the beta. The good news is, well, the headline up there because I haven't done any writing in ages that made it past the first few paragraphs. Though there is a Farscape thing on deck that got derailed when I went to the movies. Which brings me to the less good news that I haven't managed to write something that's actually within any of the fandoms for which ya'll probably started reading my page in the first place. Also, what I wrote was The Dark Knight Rises which means spoilers. Except only sort of because mostly I'm just making things up. As  per usual. Also, I fear this is a bit purple. What can I say, I've been starved for adjectives.

The Changelings
Fandom: The Dark Knight Rises (film)
Characters: Selina Kyle, Bruce Wayne
Summary: Before you become my friend/ picnic with my rubble/roadtrip with everyone I left in the dust - Andrea Gibson


1. wake me, wake me when the American Dream is overCollapse )