#so this feels like something of a fanniversary

[onepintobean]

three cheers for the birthday boy! 🎉✨

#happy birthday baz! #baz's birthday was the first fandom event i was here for last year #so this feels like something of a fanniversary #carry on in animal crossing #today on his most special of days he gets a pic for each of his names 😌 #baz pitch

[oknowkiss]

fic post: acts of service

today, if you somehow haven’t heard, is @nv-md​’s 1 year fanniversary! it feels wild to me that it’s only been a year. ali is such a presence in this fandom, always so enthusiastic and kind and sincere. i feel like every other fic i read, i see ali’s name attached to it, because she’s an ever flowing fountain of goodness, always out here helping people. if not with a beta read then with words of encouragement and advice and her contagious joy. 

she has such a passion for writing, and you can tell just by reading her work. her microfics are filled with creativity and humor and love, and her longer works are each one to die for, like opening up a box of chocolates and realizing it’s full of all your favorites. i haven’t finished coming her back catalog yet because, quite honestly, i’m savoring the experience. she’s got vampires AND cowboys??? yes please. and i bet each one is hot and emotional and lovely, because everything she writes is!! 

ali has been so welcoming as i’ve become more active in this fantastic drarry community (i can’t believe it’s only been ~2 months? seems fake), so to celebrate her one year fanniversary, i wanted to write her a little something based on something she said that stuck with me, which is that “harry deserves to be taken care of, always.” 

i think i’d agree with that, and it turns out draco does too, so here you go: 

ACTS OF SERVICE Rating: E (shower blowjobs) Wordcount: 5.6K Pairing: Drarry

Tags: shower sex, porn with feelings (it’s like 90% feelings), draco POV, established relationship, ruminations on love when you’re both broken but trying, they’re happy in the end i swear Summary: Harry's sick, and Draco just wants to take care of him, but they're two idiots in love, so it couldn't possibly be that easy.

Read on AO3 here!

Excerpt under the cut

There was a time, Draco is embarrassed to admit, when he thought loving Harry would be a chore. Love seemed to Draco a seed he didn’t plant that somehow still became his responsibility. He wanted to begrudge it, just something else Harry had made his problem, but then those first bits of green poked through the soil and it was as though Draco’s entire world had inverted, everything shifting and twisting until all that was left was focused around this one fragile, determined stem. 

It’s been years, now, and loving Harry is somehow both easier and harder. Draco understands their plant now, can keep it alive almost without thinking, but it grows in odd ways, twisting in all directions, so that Draco feels sometimes exhausted with the effort of catching up. He replants it greedily in ever bigger containers, desperate to give it more space to grow. Each time, Draco finds the roots are stiffer, harder to move, but it always settles eventually, flowering under his care. 

Draco didn’t think about love very much growing up, because if he did then he’d have to also acknowledge its absence. Now, learning as an adult, he’s surprised at how confusing it can be. When it gets to be too much, the wheels in his head cranking into an anxious spin, he tries to ground himself in the present, in something he knows to be undeniably true. 

Like now, for example, the way Harry looks at him like he’s cherished. The way Draco’s his baby, his love, his. The way he’s kneeling in accumulating bath water just to make Harry feel a little bit better, because he wants to, because Harry deserves it. 

Read the rest on AO3!

#my fic #happy fanniversary ali! #nv-md #drarry #drarry fic #harry potter #draco malfoy #harry x draco #draco x harry #harry/draco #drarry fanfic #my fic posts

[basicallyahedgehog]

I came to the sudden realisation today that it is ten weeks until my 10th fanniversary. Which feels like something that I can't let go by without celebrating somehow. So for each week, I am going to rec one of the wonderful creators that I have had the absolute pleasure of meeting through fandom. 

First up is the incredible @corvuscrowned. Crow is such an incredible human, and a delight to know. My brain lights up every time I see Crow's name in the sprint channel, and it is impossible to not love someone who knows that you will need time to make tea.

Crow's writing is incredible, and each fic stays with me for days afterward. The fics are always soft, tender and vulnerable, mixed with the perfect amount of angst, existentialism or philosophy to leave you with something to think about for weeks.

In particular, Crow's FangFest fic has changed me as a person. I truly do not have the words to do this fic justice. Soft, yearning, vampire Draco and weary, tender, non-binary, immortal Harry are everything that I never knew I needed. This fic really makes you think about what it means to love someone in all their forms, through all the ups and downs, as well as what it means to truly live.

Please, please do yourself a favour and read The Seventh Life.

While you are there, I highly recommend reading the rest of Crow's fics, but here some of my favourites:

This soft enemies to friends to lovers Transfest fic - Cut From the Same Cloth

This haunting established relationship fic with a sad Draco and yearning Harry - Ad Infinitum

This soft and tender friends (idiots) to lovers with a lot of beautiful food references - Mise en Place

Crow, I love you so much my friend, thank you for gifting us your beautiful writing and even more beautiful soul.

#fic recs #drarry fic recs #corvuscrowned #katie recs #anniversary recs #katiesqueue

[thebooktopus]

@the-sinking-ship is the best. she's a fantastic cheerleader- she's been reblogging and commenting on these MM posts like the goddess she is. she alphaed my very first drarry fic back in july and totally made me feel at home in the fandom. later, she was my beta for my Herbtamer fic and was so patient and supportive throughout. i can't thank her enough for everything she's done for me! I've been listening to some of her fic soundtracks while putting together the last of the MM posts this weekend and they're so satisfying and creative!

because she's awesome, sly participated in @fandomtrumpshate this year, raising an exceptional amount of money, but not only that - she's doing so in exchange for a longfic. 👀 she's an incredible writer- I've reccomended fics of hers before, so it was really fun to read a bunch of new works of hers to put this list together. you're sure to find something you like!!

random superlatives and recs:

contrary Draco tries SO HARD not to admit his feelings: Stupid Love // E // 16K // Drarry // I absolutely adored this fic. it's clever, full of confident Harry and prim Draco who absolutely hates everything about Harry. until he doesn't. what's better is that sly gifted us herself artwork by @bluebutter-art as a fanniversary present and my goodness I could look at it forever. added a new fic to my favorites list with this one!!

further proof that sly is the queen of longfic: Criminal // E // 83K // Drarry // 83K and not a single word wasted. sly does many things well, but her Draco is exceptional. he's snarky and unashamedly posh and horny and - he's just the whole package. and the way that harry is able to cut through all of that, get to the soft, squishy center of him. ugh, it's too good. also ft. artwork by @3lvendork and by @fictional.

let me be the first (probably not but let me have this) to proclaim this a perfect piece of fiction: Finely Drawn Lines // E // // Drarry // thanks, sly, for finishing this up just in time for this rec list, you're the best! what's the opposite of slow burn? flash flood? whatever it is, this is that. it's hot from the get-go, but filled with sly's amazing and particularly lovely brand of pining and idiots in love. I tore through this and know you will, too.

I would do anything for these two, for the record: Things We Do // E // 16K // Drarry // I just want to keyboard smash because this was sweet and perfect and hot and captured that essence of having a crush and then having it come together and then the panic that it might not work out and then the elation that you're going to try and and and and...

sly, you're just such a gem and I feel very lucky to be in your orbit. I hope you're having a great day! 💚

for more info on mutuals march and/or to figure out why the hell I just wrote an ode to you, check out this post.

#booktopus fic recs #mutuals march #drarry #drarry fic #drarry fic rec #fic rec #hp fanfic

[sitp-recs]

Hey Liv, I sent you a fanniversary message yesterday, but I was talking to my partner about fanfic and fandom and I realized something else that you've had a huge impact on. Before I found your blog, I felt so guilty whenever I'd read certain "problematic" pairings and tropes. I bought into the idea that some YA authors were "creepy" for writing about teenagers in certain ways.

Your posts and reblogs about SALS and similar really allowed me to find acceptance for myself and also gain a way better understanding of fiction and fantasies. I feel like I can not only freely enjoy these kinds of works but I can now intellectually talk to others about it!

The internet is just such a cesspool of hate and judgement, but our little section of the Drarry fandom is just so wonderful for its diversity and acceptance. Thank you for your part in that.

PS. I definitely had some squicks that I never imagined touching before seeing your recs. Lemme tell ya, I've definitely gotten over most of those now 🙃🙃

Part 1:

Oh wow, this is truly one of the most inspiring and rewarding things I’ve heard ever since I created the blog! I don’t have words to express how emotional I got reading this, and realizing I might have had a small impact on something that speaks to me on such a profound level. Making people feel safe and welcome in their interests and kinks has always been my top one priority here. This blog is very much a 18+ space and I did my best to include in my recs a range of ships, ratings, kinks and tropes. I remember I had no expectations of getting any kind of buzz or overall support once people started noticing where I stood, or when they figured out I was a starker shipper lol 😂

As someone who consumes a lot of smut, and particularly the so-called “problematique” stuff - hello age gap my beloved! - practicing SALS and Kinktomato has never been a doubt, it’s more like a life philosophy at this point. It’s the one principle I knew I wanted to follow as soon as I decided to run a blog. And I’m so incredibly pleased to hear that my blog helped you work through all of that in a safe way, but I just can’t forget to mention the amazing work many talented authors - some of them quite big and popular in the Drarry fandom! - did and still do providing brilliant and varied kinky and rare pair content. I’m talking about lqt, shiftylinguini, bixgirl, ruinsplume, Writcraft and so many others. They certainly paved the way for new authors who at times felt unseen, insecure or afraid of backlash. So their courage fuels mine, and their passion for art and creativity inspires me to keep sharing appreciation for these works. Thanks again for sending such a special message and for staying around since the blog’s early days, I appreciate that so much! Honestly, this made my night 💜

#asks #allshielded

[ifeveristoday]

fanniversary

it’s been almost two years since I came back to Buffy fandom and it’s been a wild ride -

I became obsessed with the boom! verse reboot (my first post in this side Tumblr is about it actually)

I posted my first btvs fanfic in literal decades 

I wrote and completed a long Buffy/Angel story which if you knew me back in the LJ days would be a surprise (and the story is a year old now) and I also made a music video though it’s more like a first draft set to Hozier because that is how my life is: a first draft set to Hozier.

one of my boom! verse shitposts got liked and reblogged by the Angel comic artist

being the giant nerd I am I made a podcast about the boom! verse which has had a grand total of one episode (in my defense I’m currently going through a phase of being intensely critical and embarrassed by my voice so -  ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ )

made friends with some really lovely, excellent, talented people - if you tend to see someone reblogged a lot it’s because we are friends or I crush from afar, or I am very very fond of their brain thoughts even though we may not agree about everything and that’s COOL, and occasionally if I’m good about it I reblog their fic/manip/fanvid/meta/ficathon - because fandom should be fun! Sometimes it isn’t, and then you just have to hang out with the people who do make it so.

remembered why Buffy Anne Summers is my favorite character and posted about it incessantly 

read a gossipy tell-all unauthorized oral history of the Buffyverse and final takeaway was that a large majority of the male writers/producers had some Fucking Issues and projected it into their work (and that Marti Noxon is not as bad as parts of the fandom like to project on her - but also her twenties, yikes like I’m sure a lot of our twenties were) and no, the sun does not shine out of Joss Whedon’s ass and I can love BtVS to the moon and back and still criticize it and him and his other work and not be hypocritical about it

wrote a lot of tag essays 

deleted a lot of drafts because I realized I was being an asshole about something and was close to forgetting the golden rule: don’t start none won’t be none

when I was being an asshole at least I tried to be funny? 

had some feelings change and ideas evolve about stories and characters (like it’s been over twenty years, I sure hope some stuff changed) and how context and nuance is important and also difficult sometimes because we all like to yell on this hell site

and just realized how much I still love this dead gay show, this many years on. I hope to be here for many more years and eh, if I’m not, I enjoyed myself. And that’s what really matters.

#i think i do really enjoy fandom more this time around #probably because i am precisely that old fandom auntie who rolls her eyes and goes I am too old for this shit #whenever some reheated beef shows up like clockwork #back then it was fresh! it was new! it was ....fucking stupid then and it's fucking stupid now #it's not the fun kind of arguing about fake people discourse i enjoy #anyway i love btvs and buffy #and i love you #well maybe not you #you look kind of shifty

[wilmakins]

Fanniversary Thank You Fics

Tony Stark Needs a Hug, for @my-soul-and-perfume

Tony is too stubborn to ask for a hug. Steve gives him one anyway.

Not all of the side effects of the serum are obvious.

 Yeah, everyone knew that Steve was bigger and stronger now. Faster. There was always someone on hand to point out that he was smarter now, always with a patronising smile, see, I remembered. Like Steve should be pleasantly surprised to find someone deep enough to see that he wasn’t an idiot…

 But there were other things; things that no one would have thought of. More subtle things, maybe. Or more important things…

 Steve noticed things, now.

 He supposed the point was that he would notice an enemy reaching for a gun, or be able to spot a double agent acting strangely, or recognise when someone had been rifling in his things. He assumed all of his enhanced qualities were ultimately there for the purpose of combat and service.

 The trouble was, he couldn’t leave it on the battlefield.

 He’d realised it back in the forties. He found himself picking up on Bucky’s tone of voice more often, just knowing the difference between sad and tired and concerned from the pitch alone. He saw that Gabe would bite his lip when he was embarrassed, that Junior tapped his foot if he was thinking more than he was saying, that Dino looked at the sky if he was thinking of home.

 This was all fine in the forties.

 The trouble was, in the 21st Century, Steve still noticed when people were uncomfortable, or unhappy, or scared – he just didn’t know what to do about it. He didn’t know anyone here. He didn’t know what their histories or their triggers or their vulnerabilities were. He didn’t even understand the world they existed in. He didn’t understand what anyone was anxious about, these days – literally. He didn’t know if his comforts would be old fashioned, laughable, offensive even. He was just a stranger, forever picking up on his teammate’s discomfort, with no way to ask if he could help…

 Tony was the worst.

 The trouble with Tony, Steve had decided, was that other people really didn’t know. And he knew that sounded arrogant, or worse, like he was one of those dreadful, patronising people – I’m deep enough to get you… It wasn’t that. It was just that Tony was really good at hiding his emotions. His tells were far more subtle, far better controlled that anyone else’s. Steve knew why other people didn’t spot it – he was sure he wouldn’t have seen it, if it weren’t for the serum…

 Okay, he paid more attention to Tony, maybe…

 But that wasn’t the point.

 The point was… Steve knew that Tony was struggling tonight.

 Tony had joined the team for dinner, and he’d smiled and joked and stayed to chat after he finished his meal… but still, Steve could tell. The fact that Tony had finished off so many jokes that Steve knew he could have run with. The way he kept asking other people, well, what about you? The way he answered questions with anecdotes and quips rather than opinions. All ways of handing the conversation over; making it look as though he was talking, talking, talking while he was saying as little as he could. Steve could see him hiding –

 So, what do you do about that?

 If it had been Bucky, back in the forties, Steve could’ve just asked. He would’ve known how Bucky would react; he’d have been able to guess what it was about. He’d have just been able to say some words, without having to think if Bucky was going to mock them for being quaint, or pull a face like a bad taste and tell him, yeah, we don’t call it that any more…

 He’d watched Tony from across the table, grabbing egg-rolls and asking Clint if he thought he’d be as good a shot in a different atmosphere, and he’d tried to picture asking him, are you okay? Tony would just tell him, always, like he always did – Steve knew him that well, at least. What’s wrong? Was that too aggressive? Would Tony just tell him to mind his own business? The phrase respecting boundaries floated through Steve’s head… And this was how it always went. Steve having a little debate on his own, while Tony did his performance, and tidied a few cartons away, and made to leave…

 A chorus of cheerful, bye, Tony’s and g’night’s – even though he was clearly headed back up to the workshop, rather than down to his bedroom. Back up to work, even though it was end of the evening and there wasn’t a mission in progress and he was clearly bone tired… Maybe no one else saw that. They’d barely glanced up when Tony stood to leave – why would they? He’d not done anything remotely off.

 But Steve knew; everything was off.

 He had no idea what it could be, or what could possibly help – but he knew what was going to happen. At least, he knew that he’d see Tony sometime tomorrow afternoon, still in the same clothes, either hungover or just exhausted. That empty, lost look in his eyes, until he saw someone looking and blinked it away…Steve knew it would happen, because it happened every time. Steve had noticed.

 He wished he would notice the fucking answer lying around here somewhere…

 But, as it wasn’t likely to occur to him, Steve told himself there was nothing he could do. That it probably wasn’t his place anyway – that Tony had plenty of people he did care about, in the non-workplace-boundaries-respecting way, people like Rhodey and Pepper who really knew him. Who might understand what Tony was talking about if he did tell them what was wrong… Steve told himself he was standing up to go to bed. He said good night to everyone, thinking he was going to take the stairs down to his bedroom. Because there was nothing he could do, nothing he could say, no way he could help – no reason to head up to Tony’s workshop and try anyway.

 And yet.

 Steve felt his ribs tightening as he started up the staircase, a strange feeling of panic that he hadn’t thought to expect… but, really, what the hell was he doing? He really didn’t have the first clue what he was going to say when he got there – thinking logically, this could only go badly. His heart was beating in anticipation of this awful, awkward event he was about to go through; and still, he was heading up. Doing it to himself.

 Because he just couldn’t not.

 Same as he could never run away from a gang of bullies who were quite obviously going to beat the crap out of him. Because fighting was the only alternative to just letting them win – even if it was an alternative that didn’t actually do any good, in the short term.

 Steve didn’t know if he could do any good by going to Tony now. But he couldn’t just walk away and leave him to struggle on his own. He might not be able to stop Tony suffering, but he couldn’t just let it happen. There was a difference.

 Of course, his absolute confidence in his convictions wavered slightly when he actually got to the workshop. When he saw the wall alive with layers of holograms; impossible numbers and incomparable symbols and information moving too quickly for him to see, serum or not. An immediate, visible reminder that Steve was so out of his depth, a warning that he couldn’t possibly understand whatever was worrying Tony. An internal alarm, not for you, not for you, not for you.

 And then Tony glanced up. There was a flicker of surprise, enough that he forgot to cover himself for a second. A whole second in which Steve could just openly see how exhausted and… lonely, Tony was.

 Sad. Not angry, or frustrated, or anxious. That sweet, soft sadness that you see in the eyes of little children, before they learn not to show it to the world.

 And then Tony blinked, and his features hardened just a little. A slight frown, enquiring, on the edge of defensive, …yes?

 Steve let go of a little breath, defeated almost as soon as he began. But still, he began.

 “…Are you okay?”

“Always” Tony smiled, immediately. Obviously. Same little quirk of the eyebrow as always, as though he were faintly amused Steve should ask.

 But he didn’t turn away.

 That wasn’t the same as always.

 Steve had noticed the way Tony would find an excuse to look elsewhere, when he wanted to close things down. Whatever it was that made him want to run – Steve could never make sense of the pattern – but he knew Tony responded the same way every time. Look at a monitor. Become immediately engrossed in his work desk. Turn to search for something, anything, on the shelf directly behind him. Steve had just expected Tony to look away, even as he spoke. He’d been so sure he’d have to say his next lines to the side of Tony’s head, while he squinted thoughtfully at one of his holograms.

 And he didn’t.

 Tony just carried on looking right at Steve. And Steve noticed the way he flexed his hands, like he was thinking about reaching for something. The way he kept his arms at his sides, even as his shoulders tensed. Steve didn’t understand it, but still, he knew-

 He’d just like a hug, right now.

 Steve saw it, in all the little details that he couldn’t help but notice. A physical loneliness, a dark mood that went beyond problems or worries, an ache that words wouldn’t soothe. Steve knew that feeling. The strange feeling that just being able to hold someone, just having something real under your hands, just knowing someone was there, wouldn’t change anything – but still, it would help.

 Oh, God, how the fuck do I do that?

 The exact same panic that he’d felt as he’d made his way up the stairs. The same dip in his gut as he tried to think of how very badly this could go. Steeling himself for a beating, emotionally speaking-

 Not thinking for a second that he just wasn’t going to do it.

 He’d seen it now. He knew that a hug was the only thing that could even potentially help – whether it would help or not. It was a rare thing these days, for Steve to completely sure that he knew the right answer to something. And, okay, he didn’t understand why Tony needed a hug and he wasn’t sure how to offer Tony a hug and he hadn’t the first clue what would happen after he’d tried to hug Tony… but he knew that was what Tony needed. He knew that. And he couldn’t just leave Tony, lost and sad and lonely, with no chance of getting what he needed from anyone.

 He wasn’t sure if Tony pushing him away, or asking him what the hell he was doing, or throwing him out of the lab, was going to help – any more than being knocked out in a parking lot had ‘helped’. But, heaven help him, he was going to do it anyway.

 Steve took a tentative step forward, and he caught the way Tony flinched. By now, Steve was judging this situation the same way he might a combat mission, looking out for every reaction with as much focus as he ever had in battle. Tony had flinched, but he’d tried not to. Tony hadn’t stepped in with a deflection or a joke, even to fill the silence. Tony wouldn’t ask, Steve knew that… but maybe this was as close as he could manage. Not saying no. Not moving away. Not putting up any of his usual defences, just waiting to see.

 Steve took the final few steps up to Tony, and he felt Tony freeze as he closed the gap. The way he tensed every muscle as Steve breached the limit of conversational personal space, and it became clear, no, we’re going there, this is a hug-

 Trying not to run.

 There was a little kick of anxiety in Steve then, a sudden confusion as he tried to process Tony’s reactions in real time. The first stirring of doubt, even as he folded his arms around Tony’s shoulders, just because Tony was so stiff, because this body language usually translated as uncomfortable – maybe it just meant no-

 That same alarm – not for you, not for you, not for you

 And then he felt Tony soften. His shoulders dropped, and he leant in just so, and there was a surge of relief as Steve realised,

 Right answer.

 It was only then that Steve realised how rigid his own body had been – as he relaxed his arms and held Tony properly, pulling him against his chest and taking the weight of him. Finally, Tony let his head fall onto Steve’s shoulder, like he was claiming a victory and surrendering completely, all at the same time. Steve felt him exhale very slowly against his neck, and a warm, liquid feeling swelled up in his chest…

 For a moment, he only cared that it had been the right answer. That it hadn’t been the wrong answer, for a start – that he hadn’t caused a fight or humiliated himself or made Tony feel even worse. That, maybe, this time, he might actually have helped, that Tony might actually feel better…

 And then, the thought whispered to him…

 You are hugging Tony Stark.

 His fingers flexed involuntarily against Tony’s back, his next breath coming just a little higher.

 …So, this is what the shape of his body felt like, pressed against Steve.

This was the smell of his hair, the sound of him breathing, the warmth of his mouth, so close to Steve’s skin…

 And then he felt Tony tense again, inhaling sharply as he leant away. Steve loosened his grip, somewhat reluctantly, and then dropped his arms to let Tony step back. Tony looked at the floor, and then at his work desk, a blush colouring his cheeks.  

 “I’m sorry, I’m just really tired” He mumbled, crossing his arms. And then he made himself look at Steve. Steve went to smile, and realised he already was.

“So why are you still working?” He asked, kindly. And Tony parted his lips, like he was about to answer him… and then his mouth softened into a smile. A little smile – but a real one.

“I have absolutely no idea.” He sighed, looking away from Steve and back to his holograms-

 He closed them all down with a wave of his hands.

 “I’m not still working” Tony decided, “I’m going to bed” And Steve just grinned, and nodded. Good.

 Everything was good.  

#stevetony fic #stony fic #stony #steve tony #fanniversary thank you fics #tony stark needs a hug #protective steve rogers

[callioope]

So this year marks my twentieth Star Wars fanniversary, and I’ve had a lot of feels about it lately, and just wanted to ramble for a little bit. 

I don’t know when exactly I first watched Star Wars, only that it was with my dad and it was some time in third grade. Before that, I was mostly a Disney girl (I was Princess Jasmine for Halloween from kindergarten to third grade, and the next year I was Leia, and, wow, that explains my Rogue One/Aladdin AU). Star Wars opened up the world of science fiction for me and it’s one of my favorite genres.

That was the year that Star Wars Trilogy Special Edition came out. I spent recess gushing over Mark Hamill with my best friend at the time. We somehow managed to get away with writing a fanfic (my first fanfic, that I remember) for class. And that also, incidentally, was the year I decided I wanted to be a writer.

I drifted away from Star Wars when Harry Potter came out. I mean, it was always there, I always loved it, but I wouldn’t have considered myself a Star Wars fan. I didn’t participate in the Star Wars RPG that sprawled across like all the Inside the Web forums (kudos to anyone who knows what I'm talking about), instead spent my time trying to convince people that Harry and Ginny were going to happen. I didn’t read any of the extended universe novels. Wasn’t super into the prequels.

I DID get the Droid R2-D2 phone (to this day it is the best phone I’ve ever had and I wish it still functioned well). My coworkers knew me as a Star Wars fan, even though I tried to identify myself more as a Harry Potter fan (I mean, Harry Potter was such a part of my growth, I literally aged along with Harry and felt like I grew up with those books). 

And then The Force Awakens came out, and I was blown away, and GOSH, I had that feeling, like. This is home. (Welcome home.) Like I had been gone for so long and now I’m back and this is where I belonged all this time. 

2016 was a pretty rough year for me, for a number of reasons (in a nutshell: a really stressful work environment, some anxiety issues, and I finished & started querying my novel, and it was just a lot at once, and I didn’t have my writing outlet any more).

And these past couple of months, being back in the Star Wars fandom, to be immersed in the rebelcaptain world and to be back into writing again and for it to happen during my twentieth fanniversary... it just, it means something.

So I want to say thank you to everyone who is a part of that -- people who write and people who read & comment. We live in a tough world and to have this place to call home means so much. 

Okay, that’s all of now.

#personal #fanniversary #Star Wars

[wilmakins]

Fanniversary Thank You Fics

Beautiful Stranger for @teaxcupcake 

“You waiting on the big guy?”

 Steve glanced up from the little sketch he’d somehow managed to disappear into. Immediately, the speed and noise of New York City crowded around him again, taking up all the oxygen. Like someone had grabbed the back of his head and forced it underwater, like the constant stream of illuminated information was literally getting into his eyes, flooding his lungs, forcing everything else out. He tried to swallow it down.

 In the centre of all this sensory chaos there was a woman. In the first glance, his brain supplied the word waitress – although, even that had a grubby film of insecurity over it, now. Is that what waitresses wear, these days? Does she actually have a job that didn’t even exist in the forties, that everyone in this café would instantly recognise from her outfit, a job that was so far removed from waiting tables that she’d be amused or even offended by his mistake? Did they even have waitresses, anymore?

 And that was before he got to considering what she’d actually said.

 You waiting on the big guy?

 Steve had never realised just how lost you could get in six short words.

 Was that a turn of phrase now?

Was that a reference to something specific?

Was it a joke?

Was it a genuine question?

 She spoke as though he should know what she meant…

 Six words, and maybe three seconds in total, and already Steve was drowning again. So, he put on his bravest face, and steeled his whole body, and tried his best. What else can you do?

 “Ma’am?”

“Iron man” She explained “A lot of people eat here just to see him fly by”

 Iron Man. There was an unpleasant curling in Steve’s gut when she said it – but hey, at least he understood that reference.

 Or, no… no, he didn’t. Hence the unpleasant curling in Steve’s gut. Yes, he’d been told the story of Tony Stark and his miraculous escape from an Afghan cave – but that didn’t mean he understood. In fact, listening to Coulson explain the whole Iron Man thing might’ve been the most torturous conversation Steve had had in the 21st Century. He’d had to interrupt every sentence at least three times, we’re at war with who? Since what happened in New York? The ten who’s wanted Stark to design a what? With a what wired into his chest? Why? He could see Coulson getting frustrated with the stop-start nature of the conversation, never able to get his flow, obviously wishing Steve would just shut up and listen. Steve had tried that. He’d tried just listening while Coulon spoke an alien language, casually referencing technology Steve had never heard of and politics he wasn’t familiar with and dropping in pop culture references that he’d forgotten Steve wouldn’t get. By the end of it, Steve wasn’t entirely sure if Iron Man was a robot or Tony Stark was an android. So he’d had to ask Coulson to start all over again, which hadn’t made things any less frustrating at all.

 As a result of all this, there was now a bitter taste in Steve’s mouth any time someone mentioned Iron Man. Which was probably why it felt as though people talked about him all the time. Steve tried to remind himself that none of that was actually Tony Stark’s fault. Not out of any empathy towards Stark, who was no more than a concept in Steve’s head, but because of a standard he chose to observe himself. Personalising his anxieties like this felt petty. Even wanting to lash out at a stranger, just because said stranger was confusing and unfamiliar and seemed to symbolise everything that scared Steve about the world… it all seemed very un-Captain America. It fell into that category, along with jealousy and insecurity and everything else that Captain America wasn’t motivated by, don’t be ridiculous. He was a grown up, after all.

 He would not lash out at this woman for mentioning him. It wasn’t her fault, either.

 “Right…” Steve managed, “…Maybe another time.” He reached into his pocket, taking out what still seemed like a ludicrous amount of money to just leave on a café table… but the guidebooks were all consistent. This was what money was worth, these days.

 Tony Stark’s net worth is estimated to be around 12.4 billion dollars.

 Steve hadn’t spent much time looking at Stark’s file, yet. He’d been too keen to get to Peggy’s file, and Howard and the Commandos – people he’d actually known. But, even at a glance, certain details had leapt out at him…. 12.4 billion. It was a preposterous number. Farcical. Made up. A millionaire, twelve thousand times over. Steve couldn’t imagine it, couldn’t comprehend it – like looking up at the stars…

 He was handsome too, Steve remembered, an entirely different discomfort churning in his stomach… But that one was easy to stomp down. That discomfort was at least familiar, one of very few anxieties he remembered from before he was frozen. These days, that made it almost a comfort… not that he was going to think about it. He knew not to think about this one. He’d closed Stark’s file the second that word had occurred to him, covering the picture before he could even form a full image of his face…

 But you keep trying to remember it now, don’t you…?

 Steve shook the thought away, and tried to smile at the waitress.

 “The tables yours for as long as you want it.” She assured him, kindly, turning away to clear the table beside him. “Nobody’s waiting on it. Plus, we’ve got free wireless.”

“Radio?” He asked, before he could stop himself. The waitress turned to give him that look of almost angry confusion, and Steve tried not to wince.

 Oh God, he hated this.

 And sometimes it would occur to him, like a rising tide, that it could never end. That unlike any other agony he’d struggled through, there was simply no getting through it. No counting down the minutes until he could tell Bucky all of this. No waiting until he was back in his own bed, in his own world. No reason to just keep trying, just keep his head up… until when? For what? So that he could earn the right to keep on trying, for the rest of his life?

 Beside him, a harassed woman was trying to negotiate two over-tired children into sitting at the table that had just been cleared. Steve glanced up and saw a little group of people hovering by the please wait to be seated sign. Before he looked to check he knew that every table in the place would be full. Nobody’s waiting on it, he remembered, with a rueful smile. In the forties, that would have just been a simple kindness. A little white lie, to make Steve more comfortable, just because he looked a bit sad. He would’ve known that, in the forties. He’d have taken it for granted. But now… Was the waitress being sarcastic? Was that a famous line, from the infamous film, the jerk that would’ve leave the restaurant? Maybe those people weren’t waiting for a table, maybe they were all waiting to … book something online, or something… something that everyone else here would immediately know…

 Not that it mattered. Steve was leaving anyway.

 As he finally stood up, and shrugged his way into his jacket, he happened to glance at the man at the front of the queue. Steve didn’t see his face, but he could tell from his gestures that he was telling the waitress, never mind, I’ll go somewhere else. Well, that’s what that would’ve meant, in the forties… But Steve was tired of over thinking things, and he’d run out of energy to care about whether strangers thought he was an idiot, so he went with it. He waved to the waitress, it’s okay, I’m leaving. And, mercifully, he recognised the response – a grateful nod, before she turned to the new customer and gestured, no need for that, come right this way.

 Steve wasn’t even thinking about the waitress, or the customer, by the time he walked away from his table. He was closing this awkward chapter in his head, and moving onto the next, thinking only of where he was going from here and all the reasons that would also be awful…

 He glanced up, purely by chance-

 And Sweet Jesus Christ.

 Steve stopped. He stopped walking, he stopped thinking, he stopped breathing, for a second.

 There was a single, blinding moment of purely human feeling. An instinctive response, nothing to do with the era – a physical, bodily reaction, first and foremost.

 Steve had happened to look up and catch the eye of the most beautiful human being he’d ever seen in his life.

 …The most beautiful man.

 Shit.

This work continues on AO3

#stony #stony fic #first meeting #steve rogers needs a hug #fanniversary thank you fics