Hi there! I’m in love with your blog, and I know that there are a lot of specifically Pietro blogs, but I love your style, so I was wondering if you could do something of Pietro? Maybe it’s movie night and the reader never told anybody she liked to cuddle but Pietro kinda offers and he can’t stop staring at her and saying cute things then they fall asleep together all tangled. Idk I just need FLUFF!
A/N: I’ve changed the ‘never told anybody she liked to cuddle’ to ‘haven’t been cuddled for ages’ - I hope you still like it?
Word count: 1.4k
Warnings: none, this is pure sweet fluff.
Another movie night, another rom-com on the agenda. How delightful, You thought to yourself. Everyone around you is either loved up or is having a casual friends-with-benefits arrangement. Meanwhile you’re stuck in the Avengers Tower, the rarest creature of them all - a singleton.
I swear, one more “lol men are mediocre” post crosses my dash and I’m going to completely lose it.
Like… is that something you’d say to the face of the men in your life? There is probably at least one guy you care about, whether it’s a family member or a friend or a former mentor. Could you really look that person in the face and go ‘lmao men are mediocre’?
And if not, can you maybe consider that they might stumble across your stupid, stupid, stupid poorly-considered rant and think that it’s about them?
And that’s not all. Most of y’all who post this crap consider yourselves to be SJWs. Fighting for the fucking side of right, all that. If you do this- if you constantly post about how men are terrible and mediocre- you’re fucking terrible at social justice.
Have you considered that your ‘PROTECT [XYZ GROUP] AT ALL COSTS’ rhetoric is completely empty and shallow if you’re not willing to protect all members of that group? Have you fucking considered that some men are POC or queer or trans or disabled?
If you post “DISABLED PEOPLE ARE AWESOME” and “QUEER PEOPLE ARE AWESOME” every five minutes and then follow it up with “LOL MEN THO”, we know how you really feel. Your ‘support’ for disabled people or queer people only extends to vague internet platitudes. When it comes to, you know, not triggering people with depression, or anxiety, or impostor syndrome? Haha, who cares, there are men to make fun of on the internet!
In less pretentious language: your support means jackshit.
Social justice is supposed to be about making the world a less shitty place. It’s supposed to be about making the world a place where no one gets hurt for things they can’t help, no matter what race, creed, or gender they happen to be.
If you’re not willing to do that? If you’re more interested in petty, mean bullshit against a group you don’t like than helping people? If your “SJ” is more about sticking it to men or white people or str8s or The Cis than it is about helping raise the people you want to help out?
You fucking fail at justice. You’re looking for an excuse to be mean.
Either admit that you just want an excuse to be mean, or stop doing this. Shit or get off the pot.
Signed: A queer, trans, disabled man who is so tired of your crap you don’t even know
Alternately, headcanon about Cosette in the convent?
I come here, a week later, looking at the work I have to do and… not doing it.
Cosette, I think, is a bit frightened at first by all the girls in the convent. Not that any of them are particularly mean, or anything, but they’re good and cheerful and well-dressed, and Cosette is a bit too shy, or a bit too wild, perhaps, to go play with them - waiting for a trick, or a mocking laugh, or someone to tell her she doesn’t get to play with other well-dressed little girls. After all, eight year old Cosette would still remember Éponine and Azelma, and everybody judging her (or downright beating her) for trying to play like them. She does get comfortable, eventually! And faster than expected. But I still think she ends up feeling more comfortable with younger girls than her.
As it is, Cosette IS the wild girl of the convent; she has a reputation. For starters, she spends most of her free time with the two old gardeners. Like, sure, she says they’re her family, but still! She’s the one who runs towards the sound of the bell instead of away from it when it can be heard! Also, once, there was a snake, and rumors says Miss Cosette Fauchevelent stayed and played with the snake. Another time, several pupils affirm she climbed in a tree to retrieve the ball younger girls were playing with. She’s also oddly strong; she can carry very heavy weight and help the sisters with the food that comes outside of the convent.
Once, a girl decided she did not like Cosette; but when she tried to provoke her, Cosette visibly shrink, and paled, and went all quiet. Other girls from her dormitory, who sometimes woke during the night and heard Cosette having nightmares, all band together to defend Cosette. Cosette cries a little and thank all of them - she doesn’t know why she was so scared, she’ll say later, but she feels so happy she had friends to help. Later on, she sees the girl who provoked her, all alone because the other girls shut her down; she takes a deep breath, and then she goes to sit with her, and offer her an apple. They never become friends, but they do get along okay after that.
Fauchelvent and her had a real uncle/niece relationship that develops over the course of the years. While Valjean is a very strong moral parent, that tries to teach her to be as good as possible (which, coincidentally, goes extremely well with the sisters’s education), Fauchelevent is the one who gently reprimands her when he finds her with the snake and then help her ‘finding it a good home we won’t tell your father will we now’, or winks at her and gives her a candy from times to times, etc. Cosette cries a lot when he dies.
I think Cosette never think of becoming a nun. She might think she’ll stay in the convent for all her life - but not in a ‘i’ll be a nun’ way, more like ‘i’ll be with my dad and my uncle and my friends forever and ever here’. However, after Fauchelevent’s death, she is sort of glad, and maybe a bit excited, at the idea of going outside again, discovering the world.
She still exchanges letter with the girls from the convent. AT LEAST some of them. They’re here for her wedding, as a surprise from her dad. They’re all charmed by Marius, who blushes a lot and smiles awkwardly and holds Cosette very close to him the whole time.
Summary: You and Lin have very special memories all centered around paper planes.
Word Count: 1,329
Warnings: Ridiculous fluff.
A/N: I wasn’t gonna post this until Friday but I ended up having a really shitty end to my night last night and I wanted to make sure your day ends up being better than mine was yesterday.
This is the epilogue to Paper Planes, which is my pride and joy. Here’s to hoping I did it a little justice with this ending. If you’re still looking for more content I can offer you this post of headcannons or my open inbox. Yell at me, send me your own headcannons, whatever you want. _________________________
You stopped having to launch paper planes out of your window years ago but there was something you both clung to when it came to putting words down on paper. It wasn’t really necessary for you to do when you first started dating - you and Lin had exchanged phone numbers and when he wasn’t at the Richard Rogers he was with you - but you continued to do so because of the romance of it all. You couldn’t help but be sentimental about the notion.
After you moved in with him you had decided to exchange paper planes for good morning kisses. Lin, however, persisted. He’d leave you neatly folded paper planes in various places; your purse, your bedside table, taped to the bathroom mirror once or twice. You could never do words justice like Lin could so you’d respond to each one in the form of a conversation, a kiss, or a phone call. It was a quirky dynamic to have one person continuing to write letters while the other professed their love verbally but it was yours and you wouldn’t trade it for the world.
THE JUSTICE LEAGUE IS BAD AT DISGUISES Superman, Batman, and The Flash
This was just a fun exchange that popped into my head when I was drowning myself in the shower.
I’m messing around with Superman at the moment, I enjoy giving him a Warburton sound when he’s Clark, and toning it back a bit when he’s Superman. It makes it easier to have Clark as the clumsy reporter with a voice like that. Still a WIP.
Also, yes, all Barrys talk to themselves like that. DC, Archer, everything ever.
Oh, I am so glad you asked for this one, my dear. TOS McSpirk is the ship that is nearest and dearest to my heart. I have so many feels, and so many headcanons, but I’ve always been a little intimidated of voicing them, because these three are just so damn important. Bear with me as I try my very best to do the triumvirate justice. @gracieminabox, I’m tagging you, too, solely because we’ve talked about some of this (or you’ve listened to me ramble at length, you wonderful person, you) and I am just drowning in my feels - throw me a life preserver, will ya?
Who said “I love you” first
None of them use the words.
It’s not something that needs to be spoken.
Carrying another’s soul changes a man. Everything, everything Spock’s ever seen and known and done, Len’s right in the thick of it all.
It’s as horrifying as it is mind-boggling. Len’s a deeply private person, and having someone else in his head, a rival, a friend, giving him a front row seat to all of his flaws and doubts and failings, well, that’s almost more than Len can bear.
Turns out, their minds are remarkably compatible. The man Len had sparred with, served with, depended on, fought against, and trusted with his very life becomes so deeply intertwined in Len’s consciousness that he can hardly separate where Leonard H. McCoy ends and S’chn T’gai Spock begins. They are one and the same, a duality housed in a single vessel, twin souls sharing a fragile human body.
Len’s shocked to find that Spock… still is, for lack of a better term. The living soul of another - katra, Spock corrects him pointedly - is just that, living. Spock is in the present; he reacts, and he thinks - boy, does he think, Len realizes - and Len very quickly has a hard time distinguishing between the thoughts that arise from his own mind, and those that are of Spock.
There’s no way to block it, either.
Len learns a very many things, seeing the world through Spock’s eyes.
He learns that Jim is Spock’s t’hy’la (he’s not surprised at this, not a bit, he just hadn’t realized that “bromance” was an official Vulcan relationship with an official Vulcan name).
He learns that Vulcans feel emotions. Vulcans feel emotions very strongly, in fact.
He learns about Spock’s past. About his childhood, about his home.
And he learns about himself.
It’s harder with Jim. Len catches the shadow of Jim’s essence through the fragile t’hy’la bond, like echoes in an empty room, but it’s dimmed, somehow, and Len can never be quite sure if the snatches of emotion and bleeding of thoughts that seem to emanate from Jim come from Jim-of-the-moment or memories of past-Jim supplied by the Spock who now lives only in Len’s head. Time seems to shift and bend, swirls of before looping over glints of today, Spock’s unfettered desire for Jim Kirk mingling and compounding with Len’s own until Len can hardly hold himself back (but he must, he must). The whole situation is enough to give him a pounding migraine that lasts for months.
Later, when Len wakes up on a stone slab with a throbbing head and a clawing emptiness in his soul, he realizes that he can still feel Spock.
Or rather, he can feel where Spock’s not.
There’s a gaping hole in Len’s mind, where there should be the swirling thoughts of another. It’s a devastating,godawful feeling. Len’s known heartbreak before, countless times in countless ways, but this is different, starker, more absolute. There’s a piece of him missing, a whole other side of him gone, and Len feels as if he’s slowly breaking apart, as if everything that’s ever made him the man he is is slowly crumbling around him.
He hardly even recognizes himself.
Spock seems to be shutting him out.
Spock, for his part, doesn’t know what to make of it. There is t’hy’la, his face so well-known and well-loved, the face that colors so many of his memories - “Your name is Jim,” - but there is the other, too. He has a bond with the other, the other whose face is so familiar and so beloved, the other who evokes such strange and bewildering emotions from his vulnerable heart. Their bond is wide open and blazing, like fire, like the sun, blinding in its brilliance. Spock’s memories are muddled and unexpected, colored by a lens that is not his, and he has a deeper understanding of the world and all that is in it than he’s ever remembered knowing before, a new, strange, human perspective. His knows a grief that is not his own, failures and triumphs and fierce pride and love, love, love, and a heartbreak, a loneliness that keens and blends with his own loneliness, thoughts that pulse and thrum and churn and break against his own thoughts.
Spock snaps his barriers up with a force that very nearly sends him reeling.
It takes him time to sort it out, to tease apart the trappings of his own mind and to separate his own experiences from those of Leonard McCoy.
“I’m gonna tell you something that I never thought I’d ever hear myself say. But it seems I’ve missed you. And I don’t know if I could stand to lose you again.”
It is only later, treading water in the tiny whale-tank on a centuries-old Earth, that Spock comes back to himself.
“I am Spock,” he tells her.
And he knows, then, that he is Spock, and that Jim is Jim, and that Leonard is Leonard, and that together, they are something new.
He waits for the opportune moment.
It is a surprisinglydifficult discipline, the waiting.
He manages it until the council hearing, and then, suddenly, he can resist no longer, moving to stand next to Jim and dropping his barriers just for an instant, hardly even glancing up to meet Leonard’s gaze.
He doesn’t have to - Leonard’s answering thrill of wonder and anticipation is like the rising of the sun, and its all there, magnified exponentially between them, joy, joy, joy, and love, love, love.
He finds them together that night, waiting for him in his own cabin.
Who would have the others’ picture as their phone background
There aren’t many photographs of just the three of them.
The background of Jim’s PADD is a picture of David.
The background of Len’s PADD is solid black. Spock and Len are remarkably similar in that regard (and in many others). Len, in any universe, prefers not to let anything distract him from his work, and it never occurs to Spock to personalize an object that is so clearly intended for his professional use.
Spock, though, is the one who collects objects of sentimental value.
It is only logical to do so. Jim and Leonard are human; he will likely outlive them both by at least a century. A broken marriage bond can easily drive an otherwise healthy Vulcan into insanity, and once failed, the Kohlinar is no longer an option - Spock knows, deep in his most secret thoughts, that he would not make another attempt at purging his emotions, even if he could.
It is far, far too late for that.
So he stores away small things, a photo of the bridge crew, a scrap of napkin that Jim has scrawled on, a snapshot of Len smiling under the Georgia sun, mementos, moments, little glimpses of a life well-lived. He keeps them all carefully hidden in a tiny box - “This is my logic,” - saving them for the day when memories are all he will have left of Leonard and Jim, these two extraordinary human men who have captured his heart so completely.
It is but a small price to pay, or so Spock tells himself.
Who leaves notes written in fog on the bathroom mirror
Len scrawls their names in the traditional vanu-tanaf-kitaunin, fingers tracing the elaborate loops and curves with a muscle memory that is not his own, the mirror squeaking softly as he writes.
Spock stands at his shoulder as if to correct him, never speaking, only watching.
At length, Len pulls back. “Well, what do you think, Spock?” he asks, and Jim can see by the glint in his eye that he’s pleased with himself. “Not too bad, for a first try.”
Spock leans over him without a word, trailing one long finger at the edge of Len’s handiwork. “A satisfactory attempt,” he murmurs, flicking deftly to adjust the curve of serif that Len had neglected. “For a human.”
“Very pretty, Bones,” Jim reaches around them both, making his own mark on the glass.
JTK was here.
Len lifts his eyes heavenward and sighs.
Who buys the others cheesy gifts
Jim Kirk buys the cheesy gifts.
An “I <3 NY” shirt for Spock.
Red suede cowboy boots for Len (who wears them proudly).
“World’s Best Husband” mugs for all three of them.
Who initiated the first kiss
Len and Jim have kissed several times before the initiation of their relationship.
Len and Jim have been each others’ best friend, drinking buddy, and wing man for years. They’ve participated in more than a few wild nights - most notably that one exceptional shore leave on Argelius - and neither of them are adverse to a little inebriated physical affection.
After all, what’s a kiss between friends?
Spock and Jim, at the time of Spock’s death, were only beginning to explore their physical relationship. Spock had initiated a few superficial melds, but Jim, for the most part, remained aware of the t’hy’la bond only in passing, and Spock had only briefly introduced him to the Vulcan ozh’esta.
Never a full, proper, human, lips on lips kiss.
Later, after the fal-tor-pan and the awful excursion to the 20th century - whales, really? - and the revelation of Jim’s council meeting - “Mr. President, I stand with my shipmates,” - Len knows it’s time.
He doesn’t need to approach Spock. For one glorious moment, Spock had dropped the barriers between them, and the bond had flared to life, singing in Len’s mind, an all-consuming joy so sudden and fierce that it had very nearly brought Len to his knees.
He manages to keep himself upright, but only just, basking in the glow of Spock’s presence against his, so long-missed, so absolutely vital. They share the moment, both an instant and an eternity, and when Spock pulls back, Len has the sensation of falling into himself. He’s left with a new understanding and a contentment like he’s never known, save for the dull ache of desire in his deep in his chest.
He finds Jim, and he lays it all on the table.
Jim’s intake of breath, after Len finally runs out of words, is sharp, harsh, and Len is afraid, for one terrible moment, that he’s misjudged things horribly.
“Oh, Bones,” Jim breathes, and then he’s kissing Len for all he’s worth, taking Len by the upper arms and pulling him onto his toes.
Jim’s lips are warm and soft and familiar and right on his, and Len realizes, suddenly, that this is only the beginning.
It’s the most joyful thing he’s ever known.
Who kisses the others awake in the morning
Otherwise, it depends on who wakes first.
Typically, this is Spock. Vulcans require less sleep than humans, so its typically Spock tracing the curve of Jim’s jaw or the edge of Leonard brow, with his lips, with his fingers, with his tongue.
Sometimes, though, it’s Len. Len is a nuzzler. Len likes to bury his face in the crook of Spock’s neck and to curl his body protectively around Jim’s. Len kisses the hollow of Jim’s throat, the soft patch of skin behind Spock’s ears, running his fingers down their chests and shoulders, paying special attention to the sensitive spots on the inside of Spock’s elbows.
Jim’s a little more passive. On the rare occasion that he’s up first, he likes to lay beside his husbands and watch them. Len, early bird though he is, is a total bear when woken unexpectedly, and it is so rare to catch Spock unawares that Jim feels as if he’s obligated to savor the moment. Spock’s face is relaxed, the tension and sharp lines fallen away, and Bones, though he’ll deny it to his dying day, snores softly and smacks his lips in his sleep.
Jim wouldn’t wake them for the world.
Who starts tickle fights
Jim is typically the instigator of the tickle fight.
Len’s got a tiny spot just at his inner thigh that sets him giggling until he can hardly breathe, red-faced and panting, tears running down his cheeks.
Jim lives for these moments.
Len’s retribution, when he can finally manage it, is swift and brutal. Jim may be bigger and stronger, but Len is fast. He sprawls on top of Jim, long fingers extracting their revenge with all the precision and finesse of a highly skilled surgeon.
Jim Kirk begs for mercy.
Spock watches it all impassively from the corner of the bed, the gentle thrum of satisfaction that filters through their bond the only evidence of his amusement.
Until Len exploits his superior knowledge of Vulcan physiology, that is.
Who asks who if they can join the other in the shower
Surprisingly, this is Spock.
Jim doesn’t ask if he can join Len, not that Len expects it. He pushes his way through the sliding glass door, and automatically Len shifts to accommodate him, without a word.
Jim, though, is remarkably efficient with their shared time in the shower. He hops in, does his business, and hops out, dripping little puddles all over the bathroom floor and humming softly under his breath.
Len takes his sweet time. There’s something wonderful about the thrum of real water on his bare skin, and despite the environmental control systems on board the Enterprise, the vastness of space leaves him feeling cold and hollow. A hot shower is a comfort, and he savors it.
Spock is strangely drawn to Leonard during these moments. It’s as if something in the water melts whatever subtle barriers remain between them, and Spock finds himself dumbstruck by Leonard, Leonard with his eyes closed and his face upturned, lips parted just slightly, Leonard who’s completely oblivious of Spock’s presence, just standing utterly still and letting the water fall over him like rain.
The words, May I join you, are hardly out of Spock’s mouth before Len’s breathing a harsh, “Yeah,” and Spock is shedding his cloak and climbing deftly into the shower with his bondmate.
Jim finds them a long time later. “Well, thanks for the invitation,” he manages just before Spock yanks him into the downpour, shirt and all.
Who surprises the others at work with lunch
They all eat lunch together, when they can.
It’s actually an old habit. During the five year mission, Jim would often have his lunch with Bones in the sickbay, or with Spock, when they could both leave the bridge. Occasionally, when their schedules allowed it, they’d all take their lunch breaks together in the mess hall, Bones sassing at Spock, Spock snarking at Bones, Jim indulgently running interference between them (and often subtly egging them on).
Now, years later, the pattern remains. Bones still sasses Spock, Spock still snarks Bones, Jim still looks on in besotted amusement.
Some things never change.
Who was nervous and shy on the first date
There’s not a first date, necessarily.
After the kiss - it’s a particularly long kiss - Jim can hardly find words.
“Bones,” he breathes, eyes wide and a little bit desperate. “Are you sure? He’s -”
“Jim,” Len takes Jim’s hand in his own. “I’m sure.”
They wait for Spock together.
Len’s certain, this time. The look Spock had given him across the council chamber had said enough.
The bond had said everything.
The door opens, and there’s a beat of silence.
It all hangs in the balance. The past, the future, literal lifetimes shared between them.
“Spock,” Jim bursts. He takes half a step forward, then stops suddenly, as if reminding himself, “Be gentle, don’t press.”
“Jim. Leonard.” Spock nods toward them, utterly serene, his dark eyes giving nothing away.
Len feels as if his heart’s about to burst.
“Oh, god, c’mere,” he chokes, throwing his arms open wide and shoving all of his love, his wonder, all of himself toward the Spock-shaped hole in his heart.
Spock moves, the barriers fall, and the bond sings.
Who kills/takes out the spiders
Spock is the best at catching the spiders.
Len’s too busy harassing Jim. “Haven’t seen you jump so high in years,” he laughs.
“Could be poisonous,” Jim informs him primly, stepping lithely down from the dresser only after Spock has relocated the offending critter outside. “Better safe than sorry, you know, Bones.”
“I’ll remember you said that,” Len tells him pointedly, “the next time you decide to scale a goddamn cliff face with no safety gear!”
Jim does not honor this with a response.
Who loudly proclaims their love when they’re drunk
Len is the tactile one of the three, and this is only exaggerated when he’s drunk. He worships his lovers with his hands and with his body, litany of murmured praises falling like honey from his lips.
Spock is seldom inebriated. In fact, he’s far more likely to act as a keeper to Len and Jim, silly humans with their silly love of recreational cognitive impairment. He keeps a watchful eye on the two of them, carefully concealing his indulgent amusement at their drunken antics.
Rarely, though, Spock will have a piece of Jim’s chocolate pie, or accept Len’s offer of a drink (Len never fails to offer).
Then, Spock becomes a wild thing, a Vulcan of the days of old, a physical being in the most inherent sense. Making love is an art and a science, and Spock, particularly when he loses his inhibitions, excels at it. The somatosensory cortex of a Vulcan brain is exquisitely complex, and that, coupled with the ingenuity and innate intensity of the human experience, renders Spock completely powerless to his own desires. He throws himself into his task, flooding the bond wide open and laying waste to his mates’ bodies with a fervor and ferocity that borders on primal, delighting in the heat of their skin under his.
Len, for his part, can never quite contain his thrill of anticipation when Spock’s fingers subtly brush his as he passes Spock the bottle of Saurian brandy.
Jim is the romantic.
Jim, when he’s drunk, serenades his husbands with classical literature, and sometimes, with old-earth love songs.
Wise men say
Only fools rush in
But I can’t help
Falling in love with you
Len joins him occasionally, when he’s had enough that the long forgotten lyrics come easily and he forgets the warble in his voice.
Like a river flows
Surely to the sea
Darling so it goes
Some things are meant to be
They join hands, swaying a little with the rhythm of the music and the alcohol. Jim reaches toward Spock, drawing him in, holding him close, and Spock allows it, allows his free fingers to slip into Leonard’s, allows the glow of the moment to wash over him, allows himself the simple joy of just being here, with them, together, these two humans who he loves more than life itself.
“I never run voluntarily so if you see me running, you should probably run too because something must be coming.” With Wally? (Girl s/o please)
Author: Mod Harley
A/N: I wrote this with Young Justice Wally in mind but im pretty sure it can apply to any version of him so
The chip was approximately 5 centimeters away from his mouth when he heard the shrill sound of his name being screamed. Though it was dampened by the walls of the house, the disturbance was startling enough not only for him to drop the chip, but also for him to let out a small scream of his own, which he very strongly hoped no one but himself had heard.
Dave Cullen is on the news.
Dave Cullen is on the talk show. Dave Cullen is giving a lecture. “There’s no
such thing as bullying,” he says. You know he is wrong, but everyone around you
nods like he’s right. He has to be. He did ten years of research. But then you
see something in his eyes when he says the name “Dylan Klebold”. A hunger.
There is a photograph of a pouting
girl in a Natural Selection t-shirt. There is a photograph of a pouting girl
in a Wrath t-shirt. There is a photograph of a locket with Eric Harris’ face
on it. You don’t know how long you’ve been scrolling. It seems like forever.
There is a photograph of a girl in a Wrath t-shirt.
Everyone has been arrested by
the FBI for reblogging Columbine-related things. Even the Columbiners who don’t
live in America. The FBI are cracking down on the dangerous youths. They are
coming for us all.
You have heard legends about
a photograph of Dylan Klebold hugging a cactus, but you never see the
photograph. You vow that you will not rest until you see the photograph. Years
go by. Decades. Centuries. You can never die, never rest, until you’ve seen the
“13 victims,” they say, over
and over again. You tell them that they’re wrong, that there were actually 15. They
all turn to you in unison. “13 victims,” they say, as one. “The massacre left
behind 13 victims.”
There is another school shooting. The shooter worshipped the Columbine killers. They kept a journal. They listened to death metal. They wore black. “See?” the media says. “The shooter worshipped the Columbine killers. They always worship the Columbine killers.”
“Dylan Klebold was a
follower,” someone says. “Eric Harris was a psychopath.” You ask them how they
know that. Their face twists and stretches, and they turn into a hideous and
terrifying creature, with fangs and a forked tongue. “I read Columbine by Dave Cullen,” the monster
says. “It explains it all in there.”
You go to a blog. “Stray Bullet”
by KMFDM blasts out of your speakers, on autoplay. You close the tab, but the
music keeps playing. I am your apocalypse. I am your belief unwrought.
Monolithic juggernaut. I’m the illegitimate son of god. It has always been
There is a Columbine
documentary on TV. Brooks Brown is there. He is always there.
angry social justice blogger posts in the tag. “You should all die!” The post
says. “You love murderers! You’re sick!” They call for the staff. The staff do
not come. The staff never come.
hear they’re making a film about Rachel Scott. It will be factual, they say. It
will come out on the seventeenth anniversary of the shooting. You try to
protest the film’s accuracy, but the Christians cannot hear you. They’re too
busy singing “Cassie” by Flyleaf.
were 13 victims, they say. Isaiah Shoels. Cassie Bernall. Rachel Scott. John
Tomlin. Such losses, they say. So much wasted potential. You realise that’s
only 4 names, but still they say there were 13 victims.
I thought I’d share with you wonderful peeps some of the fic that’s keeping me sane in these turbulent times:
1. I’ll make this feel like home by @thewolvescalledmehome - I’ve made it no secret that I am positively obsessed with this fic. It’s just SO GOOD. Modern AU which I will not try to summarize because I can by no means do it justice. Treat yo self, and go read this fic!
2. No strings on me by Northbound - one of my current faves. Modern AU where Sansa is Alayne and she finds Jon, only for him to not recognize her. Keep tissues close by, I have definitely shed my fair share of tears reading this.
3.A war amongst ourselves by dropofrum (95echelon) - Alternate universe where Sansa is the secret Targaryen raised in WF and Jon is the trueborn Stark. All kinds of goodness here, including, bless my heart, a tag for Daensa (which I am super into).
4.I’ll Pack My Goods For the Arkansas Woods by @aknightfornawt - Winter’s bone AU, 178x better than the movie, which I could only see once but this fic I’ve re-read too many times. If you like Sansa-centric stories where she is strong and stubborn and every inch of her wonderful lovely self, then this is definitely a fic you shall love.
5.Hammerfall by @kittykatknits - Okay so obviously I am extremely partial to modern AUs, but this one is really special. By far the best apocalypse fic I have ever read; feels even better than watching the walking dead, in my humble opinion. And what better than an apocalypse AU to read in these apocalyptic times (bad joke, I know, sorry).
I don’t even know if anyone gives a shit about fic recs, but I read a shit ton of fics and this is some of the stuff I’m currently mooning over with so I thought I’d share. In case anyone does feel interested and would like more, say, modern AUs or canon future fics with Jonsa endgame, lemme know and I’ll happily share more:)
does anyone else ever find themselves utterly incapable of putting into words just how beautiful and amazing misha collins is?? how much you love and care about him and his wellbeing???? I can’t describe it. we need a new word.
You stared at your reflection that was displayed by the water of the lake, taking in the many physical changes you possessed. The first thing you noticed was that your pure white angelic aura was gone, replaced by a warmer gray one that felt natural to you. Your black wings were also very noticeable, but the change in color of your feathers did not bother you as much as your other new physical attributes. Your face was as angular as Jason’s, maybe even more so, but your eyes were the most shocking to see. The once bright (E/C) you had was replaced with pure blood red, making you close them instantly. This was not your brother’s doing, it was the result of being cast out of Heaven.
i wanted to do a dream visit so here i am! visited @elys-i-um‘s gorgeous town of
Fawnhill the light rainfall combined with the serene music was super calming and peaceful. i absolutely loved the bamboo thickets scattered about, and the bush hedges lining areas was a neat little touch! and the houses were so nicely decorated and very cute! definitely one of fav dream towns~
For Fandom Fic Rec Days because this is a fantastic idea. These ones will be for Voltron, but if people want fic recs for other fandoms I’ve clawed through extensively (Batman, FMA, Young Justice, One Piece) I can do those too.
(Also, sorry to any writers who aren’t tumblr-tagged. I am terrible with names and probably don’t know you’re here. But I’ve still linked to your fic profiles in this case!)
AUTHOR SHOUT-OUTS: a.k.a. “you should read everything they do it’s all quality okay”
@maychorian Okay look, if you are in any way excited that I’m in this fandom, you owe maychorian a big ‘thank you’ since she was unwittingly the reason I decided to stick around after watching S1. Boom Crash The Sound Of My Ship was one of the first fics I found after wandering into the fandom and holds a special place in my heart to this day. I have fond memories of eating up the whole series by staying up late or sneaking chapters at work on my breaks. I once hid in my car during my lunch break to read a chapter right after it released? Recs all around, just read all her stuff.
@bosstoaster You’ve probably read BT’s stuff already because who hasn’t but I don’t care I’m reccing her stuff anyway. BT writes everything. Like, everything. With a Shiro focus primarily, but she’s got a great handle on the other characters and will tackle such an insanely crazy variety of prompts I am continually stunned by whatever is produced next. Known for making you suffer but will make you laugh or feelz too. Special shout out to Spark to Ignite which is probably my favorite. Is this cheating because it was an exchange fic for me? Hell no. This was my One Thing that I desperately wanted to see in the fandom and it was not anywhere. BT did a fantastic job making it come to life and making me suffer but I asked for it so it’s okay and I reread this one all the time.
@butteredonions Where do I even START? So much good fic, guys. Onions fills my cravings for all things AU and she has such an insanely wide variety. If you like AU’s there is something there for everyone and they are always so well thought out and still fit each character so well. Also (in)famous for smol!Shiro, and I’m not actually partial to a lot of deaged!chars fics because people have a bad tendency to write toddlers and young children so innacurately, but this one is gold and so it’s great. But my personal fic shoutout is gonna go to The Throne In The Hall which is just all around amazing. Gorgeous imagery, great setting, solid plot, beautiful characterization, and badass fight scenes, this whole thing is just a delightful treat from start to finish.
@ashinan Has some great works all around and you should read it! I can’t speak for Ash’s ship fics because I’m not really into ships, but people swear by both Ghost of a King and Bombs and Bullets, so I assume they are top quality for ship stuff. Me? I’m gonna rec you all Something Strange which is the most best, shut up, I will fight you on this. Amazing piece that is the modern supernatural cryptids-and-ghosts AU I didn’t know I need until I read this. Amazing characterization and so many little details that I just love picking out of the narrative and basking in. This fic is both hilariously entertaining because of the group shenanigans and frightfully haunting because of the ghosts (pun sort of intended?) Ash has also hinted at maybe doing more for the series and I’m clawing at the walls waiting for it. Read now. Do it.
@mumblefox Rounding out the Think Tank, mumble’s work is worth checking out too! Like ash, a lot of mumble’s stuff is tagged for ships, which I don’t really do, but I absolutely adore Reconnaissance which is all I need to tell me mumble’s got top quality word weaving skills. Mumble does character dynamics wonderfully and I love watching Pidge and Keith work together in this, playing off each other both in the safe Castle environment and the heat of battle. There’s gorgeous imagery all throughout this fic and tons of little details buried in the narrative that just add so much character to the story itself. Also, I am a sucker for building any kind of alien culture or worldbuilding in general, and it’s here in spades.
GriffinRose: I don’t see this fic writer recced a lot? It’s a crying shame, they’re good at what they do. Lots of Keith-centric stuff but not necessarily in a shippy way (which is usually what I see for Keith-centric stuff), but they also tackle some other characters too! My favorite is actually Mama Holt because we see a lot of Matt and Sam hanging around the Castle with the paladins in fics but Pidge’s mom? Not so much. This is a sweet little piece that hits all my found family feels, in which Mama Holt ends up on the Castle of Lions and slowly ends up adopting absolutely everyone in it, and I love every word in it. Yes. Check out Griffin’s stuff, you won’t regret it.
INDIVIDUAL FIC RECS: a.ka. the “holy shit I found this amazing story I love and you should read it” section
You Can’t Take the Sky From Me by isabeau225 Voltron fan? Firefly fan? This fic is the fic for you! Now a series and too damn adorable. Shiro’s not expecting any kids but somehow he just keeps getting more, and somehow he’s okay with that. Again, one of those fics that does child characters well. After I read this I squeed for half an hour and melted onto the floor.
Accepting Amelioration by XILVerify Daemon fics are my other weakness…when handled well. The problem I see with a lot of daemon fics is that writers will include the daemons but they are there more as a prop then as another character. This fic does a GORGEOUS job of avoiding that pitfall and a BEAUTIFUL job of writing the daemon concept in space with these characters and I fell in love with it. Also has some very interesting interpretations of daemons that differ a bit from the novel, but in ways I really enjoy…like breaking some of the standards for what animals mean what personalities, or making touching another’s daemon less of a sexual interaction and more of a close trust or strong platonic bond kind of thing. Beautiful work. Check it out.
One for All, All for One by KaijuDork Absolutely gorgeous Shiro-centric (but also team based) fic. Hurt comfort in spades as Shiro tries to help the paladins and they try to help him at the same time. Some beautiful and haunting imagery in this one. Still a WIP, but I’m hoping the writer can finish one day. I believe in you :)
Of a Sort by hameru For the sickfic fan. Shiro is really, really sick, and the others do their best to help him out. Also a WIP but the first two chapters are just…quality sickfic and will fill all your hurt/comfort needs by themselves. (Still will be excited when/if more posts though)
Empty Spaces by Oreramar Kind of a modern AU without the space stuff. Shiro loses his arm in an accident and things start to go downhill from there, until he unexpectedly finds the perfect new career…in daycare. Again, one of those rare fics that handles kids well (although they’re kind of there peripherally in this one), and the modern AU aspect is handled really skillfully too. Makes you feel all happy inside when you’re done reading it. The kind of fic I would love to see more extension on, although I’m content with this too.
Shadows of our Dreams by KUG Because sometimes you just need a cuddle pile. This one fills the niche for both cute and fluffy as well as angsty and hurt comfort. If you need all kinds of feels all in one place this is your one-stop shop.
Lean on Me by GlassSoldiers Wouldn’t be a good fic rec without a good 5 times! This is one of my faves. Shiro looking out for all his team, and his team looking out for him. I’m a big fan of this theme, obviously, so this one really hits the spot. Everyone gets a chance to shine, which is great :)
how to win friends, influence people, and form voltron by brosura A WIP but a very worth it WIP, holy crap, read this. An AU in which Keith doesn’t get booted from the Garrison, and ends up slowly integrating with the rest of the Original Trio. Primarily Hunk’s PoV too which is awesome. Double awesome, it literally just updated as I was writing this list, which means there’s a new chapter, which means I need to find time to read it. AAAAAH.
These are amongst my favorites. Good job to everyone on the list, and thanks for making my nights and work breaks exciting, for making me stay up late to finish just ONE MORE CHAPTER, for giving me something to read while eating, for giving me something to motivate me to get my own work done, and for giving me things to look forward to after terrible days. Love you all and this fandom has been amazing to me so far. :)