#happy fandomversary Joy

[basicallyahedgehog]

Today marks one year of the incomparable @ihopeyoubothstaysafefromharm making this little corner of the world a better place. Joy, you were one of the very earliest Drarry accounts that I followed, in what I realise now must have been your 2nd or 3rd week of posting. I found you through 25 days of Drarry, and stayed for your your beautiful art and even more beautiful heart and soul.

It has been such a blessing and a privilege to watch you grow as an artist and a person over the last year. Every piece of art, every word that you post leaves me feeling raw, like all of my nerves are exposed, in the very best way. Your brain never stops blowing me away.

So happy anniversary, my friend. Thank you for being your incredible self and making so many lives brighter just by being here. I hope you enjoy this fluffy little sequel to The Strings That Weave Us.

Read on AO3 or under the cut

Links to sources can be found on AO3

Draco sat in the back of his little shop, fingers stitching intricate designs onto fresh linen with utmost precision. These would not be the first handfasting cords that he had embroidered, but they were by far the most important. In less than a week he and Harry would be formalising their betrothal, and Draco was determined to give Harry the best cords in England. 

Blue, for patience and devotion.

He grinned as he pulled the new length of thread through the eye of the needle. Between Harry’s stubbornness and his own prickly personality, patience had been something that they had needed in spades when they had first come together. Draco had quickly discovered, though, that he could be infinitely patient when it came to Harry.

Harry, who waited quietly until Draco was ready to make their relationship public, even though he had been bursting to share his love for Draco with the world. Harry, who still seemed to expect Draco to leave after every nightmare, every panic attack. Harry, who never once raised his voice in anger, who never let Draco go to bed without telling him he loved him. 

No, patience came easily when it came to Harry, the natural outpouring of the devotion Draco felt towards his incredible man.

Grey for balance.

From day one, it seemed like the whole world had been waiting for them to implode. Even their loved ones had expressed concern when they first started dating, worried that they were too different in the ways that mattered most. 

But it was those differences that had made their relationship so strong.

Harry was a morning person, practically bouncing out of bed to make Draco’s requisite three cups of coffee. By 8pm, though, Draco was bundling him under their duvet, watching Harry’s sleep-slack features as he read or worked for another two hours.

Harry went soft over any living creature. The tiny kittens he found shivering under a bush now hunted rats in the Grimmauld Place basement. Their garden was tended lovingly as Harry spoke to the plants, telling them about his day and his plans for the little patch of soil. Every person Harry crossed paths with left with a lighter heart, and almost always a fuller stomach.

Draco went soft over things. Coffee mugs were placed tenderly back on their shelves, matching sets together so they wouldn’t be lonely. Books were dusted weekly, in case their allergies flared. Every year Harry would bring Draco another plushie for their anniversary, and Draco would tenderly tuck them into place on the sun bed — not the spare bed, never spare when his little friends sunbaked on top of one of Molly’s quilts. 

Harry’s emotions were big, were loud. Bounces in place, clapping hands, exuberant yells. Shuddering gasps, heart-rending screams, gut wrenching sobs. Slammed doors and kicked chairs, melodramatic apologies with big bouquets of flowers. 

Draco’s emotions were small, quiet, secret. Trembling finders and shaky limbs, lips pressed tightly together. A rigid spine, a face towards the wall, the inward curl of shoulders. A hand carding through hair, lips on cheeks, a single rose in a vase.

Yes, they were different, but it was what made them work, perfectly balanced against each other. 

Pink for unity and truth.

And for his hair, Draco thought with a chuckle, starting on the third interweaving design. Once, about a year ago, Draco had let the charm fade, his natural blonde peeking through the fairy-floss pink. Harry had sulked for days, singing dirges to his peonies and curling up with the cats for hours on end, refusing to speak to Draco.

The pink had stayed.

It was one of their greatest strengths, Draco thought, that they never concealed anything from the other. They hadn’t even made it to a “proper” proposal, the thought of keeping such a secret — a good one though it was — from each other so unnatural. 

Every thought, they shared with each other. Every fear, every doubt, every self-recrimination. Every dream and hope and decision were shared and cradled and made together. 

It was their greatest strength, and Draco’s greatest joy.

He felt a smile tug at the edges of his mouth as he stitched, the pink the exact colour of Harry’s cheeks when he blushed. 

Pink for rosy cheeks, soft lips, the tips of his own ears when he was embarrassed. Pink for cotton-candy kisses and Teddy’s hair yesterday and the flowers that Harry grew in the spring.

Pink for the colour of his love.

Green for prosperity and health.

And Slytherin, Draco thought ruefully. Green to remind him of his roots and how far he had come. Green to remind him of the good sides of ambition and cunning, and to warn him of the dangers. 

Green for prosperity, not in wealth, but in love and laughter, in bright sunshiny days and soft, tender nights. 

Green for prosperity shared. With friends, family, strangers in the street who looked like they needed a lift. Shared with schools and orphanages and animal shelters.

Shared with each other, always.

Green for health, of body, mind and spirit. Health for their relationship, that it never go stagnant. For the strength to push through the unhealthy times, determined to be healthier and wiser on the other side.

Green for Harry’s eyes, for the mother he never knew.

Red for passion and strength.

It had been the first colour Draco had chosen. Red for his Gryffindor, his Lion in word and in deed. Red for the strength of Harry’s devotion, his emotion, his conviction.

Draco wasn’t a strong man, he knew that. He was easily hurt and easily swayed. He gave up when the going got tough. Until Harry swept in and showed him true strength. Until Harry encouraged him and challenged him and loved him enough that he forgot what it was like to give up.

Forgot what it was like to feel weak and helpless.

Red for the blood shed on both sides, that they may never forget what brought them here. Red for the father Harry could not remember, for the uncles he doesn’t have enough memories of. 

Red for the Weasleys, the strength of their love holding them together on the worst days. Draco had been nervous that first summer after the war, when Aunt Andromeda had orchestrated first his friendship with Harry and then his integration into the Weasley clan. He hadn’t deserved their love, their compassion — still didn’t think he did, in his deepest, darkest thoughts — but they had given it anyway. Strong and steadfast, unwavering in their loyalty first to Harry and then to him. 

They had shown him what it was like to be truly passionate about a cause — what it was to be passionate for a person.

And then Harry had shown him another kind of passion, burning hot, bubbling under the surface, ready to explode at any given moment. A passion shown through tender caresses and whispered endearments as much as it was through lips on lips and skin on skin, sweat-soaked and feverish. 

A passion that matched their string, the shiny red on the vast tapestry of their family, around their wrists. Binding them to each other, and to everyone they loved. 

Draco ran his fingers over the finished embroidery, admiring the contrast and harmony of the various colours. Green for family, blue for godfamily, grey for the beloved deceased. The pink of soft hair and softer lips.

The red of his soulmate, his heart-mate, the love of his life. 

As this knot is tied, so are your lives now bound.

Woven into this cord, imbued into its very fibers, are all the hopes of your friends and family, and of yourselves, for your new life together.

With the fashioning of this knot do I tie all the desires, dreams, love, and happiness wished here in this place to your lives for as long as love shall last.

In the joining of hands and the fashion of a knot, so are your lives now bound, one to another.

By this cord you are thus bound to your vow.

May this knot remain tied for as long as love shall last.

May this cord draw your hands together in love, never to be used in anger.

May the vows you have spoken never grow bitter in your mouths.

As any child discovers when they are learning to tie their own shoes, the first move is to cross the ends.

As your hands are bound by this cord, so is your partnership held by the symbol of this knot.

May it be granted that what is done before the gods be not undone by man.

Two entwined in love, bound by commitment and fear, sadness and joy, by hardship and victory, anger and reconciliation, all of which brings strength to this union.

Hold tight to one another through both good times and bad, and watch as your strength grows.

[rendomski]

Fandomversary

It's been exactly a year since I gathered my courage and posted the first chapter of my first fic written in English! Which was also my first fic in The Bad Batch/The Clone Wars fandom. Season 2, all the discussions, memes, fanfiction, and fanart – all these brought me tons of joy throughout the year 🥰!

Happy to be a part of the fandom!

[sitp-recs]

Sitp Essentials - Fandomversary Edition: Writcraft

June marks the 12th (!!!) fandomversary of this incredibly talented and generous author, whose work has brought me so much joy and healing over the years. What an accomplishment, my friend! I know I’m not only speaking for myself when I say that we are so very grateful for your presence and immense contributions to the HP fandom. I’m a bit wary of taking on long-term projects these days but I really wanted to do something to celebrate this milestone so I’ve decided that, during the month of June (and there was no better month to celebrate in! 🏳️‍🌈) I’ll be posting single recs for 12 of my favourite fics by @writcraft. Some are older recs, written in the blog’s early days, some are brand new, highlighting rare pairs, hidden gems and recent works. I won’t have a rigid schedule because I don’t wanna set myself up for failure so the rec posts will be a surprise even for me 🤣 I hope you guys enjoy them just as much!

Anyone who knows me well is aware that I’m very shy around my fandom heroes and will rarely initiate any kind of conversation with them. I was so anxious about being perceived that I wouldn't even tag them when I created the blog. Writ holds even more power in my imaginary fandom altar because they’ve written one of my all-time favorite fics. I found Little Compton Street aka the “Life on Mars Love Story Told in 3 Acts” at a difficult time of my life when I was almost leaving fandom for good. But getting to read LCS and to fall in love with those magical London spots and captivating characters was a beautiful transformative experience that altered me completely. This fic not only had a profound impact on my ever changing self-awareness as a queer person, it checked my many fic reading boxes, and pulled at my heartstrings in all the right ways. I've learned so much from LCS; it is an ode to queer history, a love letter to all of those who came and fought before us, and to all of those who were killed, erased and forgotten in the process. It is is a story filled with hope and a compassionate reminder urging us to always resist, and never forget.

*at a loss of words*

(…)

As you can see, I always get immersed in my feels when I think about LCS and I know it will always have a special place in my heart. This feeling of profound gratitude and joy for Writ’s formative works is what inspired me to do this humble homage. Am I a bit nervous about not having enough fuel to see this through? Hell yes. But I’m opening myself to the possibility of failure because I know this is for someone who’s unfailingly kind and compassionate. Writ, I admire you deeply as a writer and even more so as a person. Your contributions to the HP fandom through fics, fests and meta over the years have been immense, and I know your RL contributions to the queer community and its memory have been just as impactful. Happy 12th Fandomversary, my friend! For someone who’s been reading your words since 2012, it feels incredibly special to finally get to share this space with you. 🏳️‍🌈💜

[gumnut-logic]

Lost in Space

Nutty’s Fandomversary Fic Five - Scott and Space for @riotraze

This is set in the Rain Universe, Gentle Rain specifically, and focusses on the relationship between Scott Tracy and original character Em Harris. The story behind Em Harris can be found in Gentle Rain. This story references a line from the epilogue of that story.

The lookout was deserted and as the sun disappeared, it grew dark and the city in the distance lit up in the yellows, white and oranges of street lighting, with the central business district standing bright as if a centre piece to the whole panorama.

“There is something about looking down at a city at night. All those lights, a home, a house, a building, a street lamp. All defying the darkness, outlining where we’ve spread, our impact on our environment, our determination.”

“I should take you up to Thunderbird Five and let John show you his view.”

She was staring at him. “Into space?”

He smiled. “Yes, into space.” A sigh. “Sometimes I forget that some things we do are not every day things.”

“The Tracys don’t do ‘average’.”

“What?” It came out as a half laugh.

“Kayo told me that the day I first arrived on Tracy Island. I have to say, she’s got it right.”

“I hope you don’t hold that against us.”

“Against you? No. You just have a little magic at your fingertips.”

“Magic.”

“Yes, magic.” She reached out and touched his face. “In more ways than one.”

A full listing of the Rain Universe stories which are Virgil/Kayo and Scott/Em can be found here.

I may add to this story in the future, it seems to be asking for more, but at the same time asked to stop where I stopped. I hope you enjoy it :D

-o-o-o-

Scott hated space.

No, that was incorrect. He didn’t hate it, he disliked it. He preferred the blue, the roar of rockets, the clap of sonic boom, the clouds, the Earth below and...speed.

In space, speed meant everything and nothing. With little reference, the fastest rocket, once it attains its cruising speed, may as well be sitting still for all the impression it makes on its passengers. Acceleration, sure, the Gs could crush you into your seat. Look out the window, though, unless you had a planet or moon in view, again, you might as well be standing still.

And the silence.

Outside the small pocket of air a spacecraft provided, there was no sound. No screaming rocket, no wind in his hair.

No, Scott disliked operating in space and for reasons that had little to do with its beauty and desolation.

But at this very moment, all of that could be ignored. At this moment, he loved it madly for what it could do.

Em floated free in Thunderbird Five’s central hub, sheer joy in her grin. John floated beside her, giving her his standard zeroG 101 speech. Scott sat to one side just happy to watch her happy.

From his initial random comment regarding a visit to Thunderbird Five, this moment was inevitable. Part of him just wanted to show her another aspect of his world, the wonder in his heart and soul that was International Rescue. Another part was the zeroG he knew would give her freedom she didn’t have under the influence of gravity.

And she took to it like a fish to water.

Em Harris was a zeroG natural.

Dressed in a specially made IR uniform spacesuit not unlike John’s, she dipped and spun and laughed amongst the holograms of his brother’s ‘bird.

Virgil had been the challenge in this little escapade. All the Tracy brothers had extensive space training thanks to their father, and Kayo may not bear the name...yet...but that hadn’t stopped their father from educating her either. On top of that, they were all extremely fit and healthy.

Em was healthy, beyond her ongoing concerns, but she was no sportswoman. Virgil was a worry wart and no doubt a little peeved he couldn’t come with on this little venture due to his own health concerns. Em and his doctors had yet to clear him for the stressors of space travel even now months after the incident at Christmas.

He was back on duty. After the bridge incident, Scott couldn’t keep him away from his ‘bird, but he was under supervision, lighter duties, and threats from his fiancee.

Cranky was an understatement.

But yes, there had been some reassurance sought to calm his brother’s ruffled feathers as to any concerns regarding Em’s safety in space. As for Scott, for once in his life, worry was not a factor. He just wanted to see exactly what he was seeing now. The elation on her face was worth every concerned frown Virgil shot his way.

There had been training, of course. Drills, safety concerns, and a ride in Thunderbird One that had him laughing at Alan until he had tears in his eyes.

Thunderbird One made for a great vomit comet, Scott manoeuvring her in roller coaster ups and downs enough to create that moment of weightlessness legendary for all space agency training.

His little brother had been dreading the mess that was inevitable with all first time zeroGers. Hell, even John had legendary stories of the puke fest in his training.

Scott was flying. Alan was training Em in the cargo bay and he was not looking forward to it. Scott hadn’t admitted it to himself the concern that was gnawing at the back of his throat. Em was strong, she could do this.

And she certainly did.

Apparently extensive experience with a hoverscoot gave you a step up in the zeroG game. Scott had her on visual while he was flying and apart from a few green moments and one unanticipated collision with the cargo bay wall, Em coasted through the training.

Alan was gobsmacked, Em glowing and Scott more relieved than he realised he could be.

The fabricators had been tasked with her uniform and here they were.

Em laughed and hugged John, the pair of them spinning slowly in the middle of the room. Scott snorted at his brother, the surprise on his face comical.

Em was obviously running on an adrenalin high. Scott knew she had been looking forward to today since he had mentioned the possibility. She had been literally beaming this morning when he helped her into her uniform. He had to admit to himself, dropping the white baldric with the IR insignia onto her shoulder had been a very intimate moment. It had been a surprise how much it affected him.

Perhaps it was too early in their relationship to consider the level of permanency that baldric and insignia represented, but god, his heart beat faster. His fingers brushed across the IR logo and down across the red cross below it.

Her had hands caught his.

“Thank you, Scott.”

He smiled just a little, but said nothing.

“I know how much you are trusting me. How much you have trusted me from day one. I won’t let you down, I promise. This opportunity...just thank you.”

He raised her hands to his lips and kissed her fingers. She didn’t understand. The trust, yes, it had taken him a long time to let his guard down. He doubted it would ever be fully down. But this? This trip? This was as much for him as for her.

He wanted to share.

He wanted to see.

He wanted to hold her as she discovered the wonder that was part of what had become his life’s work.

And now, to be honest, he was becoming a little envious of his middle brother.

“Now, now, John, let go of my gorgeous girlfriend.”

It was comical how fast John backed off.

Em laughed, and spun a little, mid-air. “Scott, I hugged him. He’s been a great help.”

The commander folded his arms across his chest and arched an eyebrow.

Something devilish sparked in her pale blue eyes and she grinned at him. “I hugged Alan yesterday for the same reason. Hmm, I’m pretty sure I’ve hugged Virgil on at least two occasions, though come to think of it, I may not have hugged Gordon yet. I must remember to do that when we get home. Then I’ll have a Tracy Hug Quinfecta.” Her grin was malicious.

John was smirking. .

Scott sent her a level-eyed glare. “I’d be wary of the Virgil hugging, Kayo is dangerous.”

She folded her arms across her chest, mirroring him. “Kayo and I have an understanding.”

That thought by itself was rather high up on the scale of terrifying.

“You were right, John. This is very interesting.” Eos broke the moment.

Scott redirected his glare to John. The smirk on his brother’s face needed removal. “Eos, what exactly did John say?”

“He said I shouldn’t kiss and tell, Commander.”

Damn, the kid was learning. Still glaring at his smirking brother, “Em, meet Eos, the other resident of this floating tin can.”

Em frowned. “I thought John was alone up here?”

She had given him the third degree the moment she found out the middle brother operated completely alone. It took him some time to convince her that John was absolutely fine and actually preferred the isolation. What he hadn’t explained was that John was never completely alone.

John’s voice was quiet. “Eos is an AI, an artificial intelligence. She helps me administer Thunderbird Five.”

Scott raised an eyebrow. Eos was so much more than that. He knew his brother considered her his daughter.

Em’s eyes widened. “Hello, Eos.”

“Hello, Doctor.” A pause. “Are you going to give John a physical examination?”

“That was the plan, yes.” Her eyes sought the source of the voice.

“Good. Make sure you examine his right shoulder. He wrenched it five days ago during the Zuchov situation, and again just yesterday during zeroG ball with Captain O’Bannon.”

Every eye in the room narrowed in on John. The shock on his face was almost comical.

Em arched an eyebrow over her lopsided smile. “Eos, you and I are going to be great friends.”

Scott had never seen John actually pale. He hadn’t thought it was possible for his brother to get paler.

Apparently it was.

“Eos!”

“Yes, John? Is your health not paramount?”

“Yes, but-“

“Doctor, I agree. We are going to be great friends.”

Em was grinning like a mad woman. Scott continued to glare at his brother. “Perhaps if you reported injury like you are supposed to, Eos wouldn’t need to report you.” There would be words later. It was unlike John to be so careless.

“Oh, Johnny, you are so busted.” Alan swooped into the room from TB3’s airlock.

“Don’t call me, Johnny.” It was automatic.

Em sobered and floated towards Scott. He reached out and snagged her, dragging her closer. She came willingly and curled under his arm. “Don’t worry, John. Eos and I will have a discussion about doctor patient confidence and reportable situations.”

“All injuries are reportable.” Scott was still frowning at his brother.

Her hand landed on his chest. “Scott.” He looked down at her.

Let me handle this. It was all over her expression.

His lips thinned. This was IR territory.

His eyes fell on the logo on her baldric yet again. It was he who asked if she could help out with the medical side of IR. After all, her eyes were often on Virgil and himself anyway. Today’s trip just gave them the opportunity to kill two birds with one stone. John was due for his medical. Em was available and eminently qualified. She had even spoken with John’s doctor in New Zealand in preparation.

Pale eyes beckoned him.

Okay. He let his shoulders drop. Trust.

She smiled just a little. “Now, I hear rumour this Thunderbird has a magnificent view.”

Scott caught John’s eyes and his brother pulled up the holographic controls of his ‘bird and slowed the spin of her gravity ring to a stop. “Eos, secure the ring until further notice.”

Gravity was something they could do without for the moment. He tightened his arm around his girl. She had her hoverscoot at hand, but the opportunity to move freely without it was too much of a lure to be denied.

John led them through the internal airlock out into the glass encased balcony of Thunderbird Five.

“Oh my god!” Em left his side, throwing herself at the view, her gecko gloved hands latching onto the smooth surface. She hand-walked to a spot where she could see the planet below clearly. “John, my god.”

Scott found himself grinning like an idiot. A nudge off a wall and he made his way over to her side. Australia, New Zealand and, ultimately, Tracy Island floated so far below. Em vibrated beside him. He reached out and caught one of her hands.

“This is real. This isn’t a photo or a video, I’m actually seeing this. I...I can’t believe it.”

It was a familiar sight. He had seen it many times before, but...her eyes were sparkling, shining with the glow of the planet below.

“You live such amazing lives.”

Out the corner of his eye he caught John dragging Alan through to the next partition in the ring. The door closed behind them.

His arm slipped around her waist as they hovered above the glass. “All the better with your company.”

She shot him a look. “Really? I thought we were past cheesy pickup lines by now.”

He sobered just a little. “Perhaps, if it was a pick up line, but I meant what I said.”

Her eyes widened and the shine in her eyes turned just a touch glassy. She shifted her mass enough to reach up and wrap a hand around the back of his neck.

Her glove was tantalisingly rough on his skin, her kiss contrastingly soft.

A breath. “Thank you, Scott, for everything.”

His only answer was to wrap himself around her and return that kiss. Her other hand grasped his waist and they were gently spinning in freefall.

God, a moment of simple perfection.

“Love you.” So much.

She was gazing up into his eyes, emotion in every line of her smile. That smile became a grin as her gecko gloves accidentally caught his hair and gently tugged it out of style. The grin became a giggle as her eyes latched onto the result. “Love you, too, flyboy.” Her kiss stifled his response as she purposefully ran her fingers through his hair.

His eyes closed in exasperated resignation.

This woman...

He was so lost.

In space.

And loving every minute of it.

-o-o-o-

[reyskyber]

Happy fandomversary!! I’m so happy we crossed paths when you joined, it’s been a joy to get to know you 💖

Thank you, Kat!

Truly, I am so glad I stumbled upon your blog

want one?