#slashfanfiction

[tiramisuprince]

Stucky - If I Can Turn Back Time

Chapter 1: The Rescue

★---★---((( ★ )))---★---★

"Run, Buck!"

The battering ram slamming repeatedly against the barricaded door is a reminder of how little time they had left. Steve is looking back to the widening blue-greys of one James 'Bucky' Barnes. The SHIELD helicarrier is in sight as the massive hole inside the operation room crumbles brick by brick. There were still flames licking at the singed walls from an earlier missile attack.

"I'll fight them! You get yourself to safety."

He was determined to bring his best friend, the love of his miserable, exhausting, life to safety. It was the least Steve could do after failing him so many decades ago. Bucky - poor Bucky, he was barely out of the frozen box when shouts, gunfire, and a bouncing shield filled his vision. Had woke him from a long slumber. This was the second time he's seen the blond and every minute gave him a clarity that brought shivers down his spine and tears in his eyes.

"I won't let them take you again."

The soft, nearly unheard, statement broke something inside Bucky. The desperation he heard in Steve's voice along with the knowledge that every word said is filled with choked tears. It filled him with anger he had not felt before. It was not the rage from being tortured, from being experimented on, or even the rage he felt when his handlers would use him for other means. No, there was something more human. He felt mad at this blond, this Steve Rogers whose very existence brought forth a string of memories that knots his stomach and makes his heart skip.

　"You get yourself to safety! What the hell do you think you're doing, punk!"

For a moment, Steve paused. His heart pounding heavily in its ribcage and not because of the adrenaline coursing through his veins considering they're still in the fight. No. Staring at the Winter Solder, no. Staring at, Bucky. He couldn't help shedding tears, but he's wiping them before they fall. His fists clenched, shield sturdy against him. 

He made his decision. 

Solidified it. 

And Bucky knew what the expression on Steve's face meant. He ignored the footsteps of SHIELD agents rushing into the room behind them, the whirling of the helicarrier, and shouting for them to hurry.

"I just got my life back. You can't just - leave..." 

The last word is so quiet and barely heard over the distorted chorus of noises, but Steve knew.

They both knew.

　 "Don't worry, no matter what happens..." Steve looks to the man he comes to love, the man that he'll fight for until the end of the line. It was heartbreaking. They moved closer together. Steve guided Bucky back towards the helicarrier, Bucky gingerly walking backward in a daze, as their eyes never broke eye contact. The brunet is entirely entranced by the warm love in those beautiful bright blues of a man both his personas were imprinted on.

"I'll come back to you, I promise." Hesitatingly he kisses his best friend, softly with all his love, not caring considering this might be their last moment together. When he pulls back he smiles.

"I love you, Bucky."

He pushes his love into the helicarrier, signaling SHIELD to take him away before diving back into the horde of soldiers bursting into the room as the battering ram breaks through the barricades. Doing what Steve was made to do, he's Captain America once more.

This was his fight.

HYDRA may have started it, but he was ending it.

One way or another.

　 Bucky stares blankly at first, unable to do anything else as he allows others to pull him into the aircraft. But once he realizes his surroundings didn't match where he was prior, he yells for the man, fighting off the agents who have a hold of him.

　He pushes and pulls, angry at the men for allowing the soldier to stay by himself with HYDRA, angry at the soldier for forcing him to relive his love, yet not able to do anything. Angry that Steve was putting himself in danger without allowing help. Angry at himself for not being strong enough to help fight. 

Bucky was strong enough to fight off SHIELD, however, and that's exactly what he did. No concern for anybody on the carrier, he thrashes against the group, throwing punches at anybody who dared tried to stop him from jumping out and being with the man he loves. Yet the agents kept coming, weighing him down to the point of exhaustion, and once caught off-guard the others took the chance to cage him, leaving him to his sorrow and self-hatred. 　

Steve didn't know how many he fought until his capture, he didn't care.

His love was safe and that was the most important thing to him. Yet, as he awoke strapped down to some crazed contraption. A scientist smirked in front of him and he could only catch a few Russian phrases, "Wipe him."

That's what got him, and he raged. Raged in his bindings, raged against the gag, and as the machine whirls and sounds.

He shut his eyes.

Steve only pictured his love, only thought of his love because if they thought that they could do to him what they did to Buck.

They were wrong.

Dead wrong.

He'll play their little mind games, because in the end.

They'll all be dead anyways.

Steve shuts his eyes, holding onto that small piece of information that he has of his previous life. The smile of his love, the laughs they shared. That was what was getting him out of this hell hole. Even if he didn't remember who he was or who that person in his mind is. They strapped him into that infernal chair, gagged him, and as he screams he could hear the laughter.

And then there was only silence.

And compliance.

[madfritter]

Give me slashfanfiction

Tullus Aufidius as a fluffy cat /Caius Martius as RedDragon

[xthewhiteravenx]

“I can see you  Your brown skin shinin' in the sun  You got your hair combed back and your sunglasses on, baby       And I can tell you my love for you will still be strong       After the boys of summer have gone"       - Boys of Summer by Ataris (aka... this song was literally made for them)

Colby was never one for the beach, but don't misunderstand him for he enjoyed the sand and the soothing sound of the waves crashing and the sun beaming down on him. It was just all the people! He was a rather reserved guy, wanting to keep to himself and his few friends instead of surrounded by hundreds of people.

He enjoyed his punk music, twirling his rings on his fingers, and exploring the unknown (which, after he got arrested for entering an abandoned building, turned toward the paranormal on his joint YouTube channel) and, like most guys, he looked out for hot girls. Yet, he was slightly different in that way, as he found himself looking at hot guys, too. Being bisexual was always slightly confusing to the brunette YouTuber. He wasn't sure why, outside of maybe that the bisexuality felt like a part of him and not something that society had classified as "different" or "unique" or "trendy" or whatever the new term was. It was just always a part of who he was, a normality… which he kept secret from almost everyone…, but that wasn't the point. What was so "different" or "unique" or "trendy" about that?

After a rather stressful past few days, Colby's two best friends (Sam and Jake) decided to take him to the beach. Colby didn't think much of it and was going to use those few hours to work on a summer tan, getting rid of his rather pale complexion. Yet, it seemed that all of Los Angeles wanted to go to the beach too. So, here the trio were, walking over a mile from their car with their arms full of towels and a large umbrella and a volleyball to find a spot along the beach.

Then, Colby's suddenly boring, anxiety-filled, and unexciting day took a turn. Better yet, and perhaps with just a dash of spoilers, Colby's suddenly boring, anxiety-filled, and unexciting life took a mighty big turn.

[READ MORE HERE or HERE]

[pepelnyh]

Tony & Loki || Devil's Gonna Git You Plot: Loki and Tony are enemies, but they can't leave without each other. There's a very fine line between hate and affection. And one day it will become clear. One day when Tanos will come. Don`t forget like in Youtube! Thank you ! :3

[bitchesbrokenhearts]

Castiel has just lost the most important thing in his life.  Will help from a couple of friends and his memories be enough?   Or will it take something else?  Something supernatural?

Alternate ending to Season 12

[scifrey]

And here's the first page of my chapter from #thesecretlovesofgeekgirlsredux, #TimeToMove. #fakegeekgirl #personalessay #JMFrey #authorsofinstagram #bookstagram #WritersofInstagram #slashfic #slashfanfiction

[slashthemovie-blog]

#TBT on the set of #slashthemovie!

[justswimwiththewhales]

My Thoughts For Today

I tried my best in explaining to my friend why I enjoy M/M stories so much. It wasn't easy, because I really had to pick at my brain a deeper meaning for all these hours of writing that went beyond a basic attraction to the male gender.

For one, I decided that (being a straight female myself) there is nothing more romantic to me than a couple choosing to love each other, despite the challenges they face from the world around them who doesn't always accept their love. That is purely a beautiful and romantic love. They're saying “Fuck them, because I love you more than anything else, and THAT is what matters to me.”

I have many gay and lesbian friends and I don't exactly look at them and think “sex fiction”. No, its not at all like that. I like the romance aspect shipping two males in a story. I chose M/M to write because being attracted to males myself I find it easier to write about a gender I am interested in.

She couldn't understand my perspective, and that's okay. I know there is a whole world of shippers out there who share my interest, though I can't say for the same reason. I do like my reason and I'm probably never going to stop shipping males.

[agnesgalore]

One Direction, Male Intimacy, and Imagination

Real talk: I was a teenage slasher.

Nope, probably not the kind you’re thinking about. I mean this kind of slash, the kind that meant that, as a 12-year-old, I spent almost all of my time online poring over *NSYNC photo shoots, chatting on instant messenger with my fellow fan fic writers, and most of all, writing pretty graphic descriptions of boy band members having sex with each other. (I was a Bassez girl myself, and yes, before you ask: my first emotion was vindication.)

All this to say that, as someone who was writing about boys putting their penises into each other a good five years before I ever actually came into contact with a real penis, my sexual formation as a straight girl was not what you would call average. The most formative moments of my discovery of sexuality weren’t stumbling on my parents having sex, or watching my sister make out with a boy, or even sneaking off behind the school to make some poor boy show me his (or however it is most straight girls encounter sex for the first time; I obviously have no idea, and I don’t have very many straight friends, so I have no one to poll on this). They took place while I was reading internet fiction about Elijah Wood and Orlando Bloom, and women—and their bodies—were both literally and virtually nowhere to be seen (even though, of course, women were the ones crafting the fiction in the first place).

Here’s the thing though: I’m actually not that weird. 

The slash communities I was in, and they were legion, were populated almost exclusively by straight women, whose ages tended to range between 13 to 40. Some of them were married. Some of them had children. All of them knew (or thought they knew) really exacting details about guy-on-guy anal sex, from what kind of lube was best to what kinds of positions men’s bodies could be maneuvered into. By the time I stopped writing fanfiction (ahem… regularly), the number of Harry/Draco stories alone online numbered in the tens of thousands. It actually shouldn’t be surprising, but somehow, it still seems like it is: you know how some boys like it when girls make out? Some girls like it when boys make out. A lot. 

And today, thanks to youtube, tumblr, the invention of camera phones, the general intensification of surveillance culture, and oh yeah, the British reinvention of the boy band, a new generation of slashers is being born.

I know virtually nothing about One Direction. (Okay, full disclosure, I just spent the last three hours feverishly googling “Larry Stylinson,” so I actually now know… a fair amount.) What I know amounts to: they are a boy band—like a real bonafide five-piece boy band, just like the golden days of yore—and they sure do like to touch each other a lot in public. On the face. On the ass. Ever so occasionally right on the penis. And the internet? Is all over that shit.

What is it about boy bands? What is it about the casual intimacy of heterosexual men?

Well, okay. Allegedly heterosexual men.

There is, of course, the camp that wants it all to be real. I went through this phase myself. The increasing number and visibility of queer pop stars, actors, and other celebrities notwithstanding, the internet is still generally obsessed with outing all those public figures who remain—whether of their own volition, or, as the One Direction fans claim, under the pressure of their management—in the closet. The trope of the closeted queer is a tragic one, and tragedy is not just romantic—it’s sexy, it’s perilous, it’s fascinating. And anyway, “reading” is an old game—so much of queer culture, and queer lives, used to take place behind the scenes and in between the lines. Much of it still does— enough that it’s really not that implausible that this moment, for instance, actually is a PR-engineered moment of closeting.

But what if—stay with me here—none of them are gay? 

Anyone who’s ever watched a football game, of course, knows what Eve Sedgwick means when she points out that “for a man to be a man’s man is separated only by an invisible, carefully blurred, always-already-crossed line from being ‘interested in men.’” It’s an open secret—a glass closet, if you will—that all sexuality, not just the sexuality of female undergrads, is a moving target. But the straight male intimacy visible in athletics is multiply-encoded, buried beneath layers of masculine performance and muscles. The erotic charge of the post-game ass slap is not the ass slap itself, per se, it’s the contrast between the illicit contact and the square jaws, bulging biceps, and manly “Great game, dude”s that come with it.

One Direction—and *NSYNC before them, and NKOTB before them, and who knows who else before them, I am not a music historian—brings something different to the table. They’re not manly men. They’re dudes in skinny jeans and skinny ties. They’re dudes with bangs. They definitely wear makeup in public. Their intimacy is unencoded, without explanation, and even (mostly) without the kneejerk homophobic denials that generally accompany such gestures. And yet somehow  it’s still possible that they don’t fuck other guys.

If you’ve ever spent time in a co-ed dorm, or a frat house, or some bachelor dudes’ apartment, you also know that men who share living space—much like anyone else who shares living space—get intimate. They pee with the door open, they talk to each other while they’re in their towels, they sit close together on couches; they know almost as much about each other’s bodies as their lovers would, even if it’s an unconscious knowing. This is, again, another open secret in our patriarchal, intensely heteronormative (and, increasingly, homonormative) society. But it still feels radical to see it happening in music videos watched by tens of millions.

I’m not particularly invested in whether or not the guys of One Direction are straight or not. But honestly? I kind of hope at least a few of them are. Knowing that they don’t want to fuck each other doesn’t empty the intimacy of one man caressing another’s face, or pulling another’s hair, of eroticism. Y’all, it’s still hot. But it pushes on the boundaries of male sexuality, in a way that just dismissing all five of them as gay does not. It opens a space for a man to touch another man, even lovingly, even erotically, even in public, and still comfortably claim heterosexuality. 

Last summer, I was a house counselor at a summer boarding program. One of my boarders, a fourteen year old girl—and the first person to introduce me to One Direction—spent an entire night educating the other girls in the ways of One Direction fandom. When it came time to introduce the girls to Harry Styles and Louis Tomlinson—the number one gay suspects—she said, “This is Harry and Louis, and they’re in love.”

“Like bromance?” asked another girl (who would, for unrelated reasons, turn out to be the bane of my fucking existence. A story for another time.)

“No,” said the first girl, still in lecture mode, “Like romance. Like true love.”

I mean obviously, that’s cute and great, high five, tolerant teenager. But she went on to stick a poster of the two of them—Larry Stylinson, as the internet portmanteau machine has dubbed them—on the ceiling above her bed. And she told me as she did, “Well, maybe I’ll dream about them.”

Is it weird that I hoped, along with my 14-year-old boarder student, that she would have erotic dreams about two dudes fucking each other? Probably. But I think straight women—and men—should be encouraged to imagine men erotically beyond the narrow confines that heteronormativity allows them. I think they should be encouraged to fantasize about men who don’t look like Channing Tatum—not because they’re “effeminate,” not because they’re “nonthreatening,” but because scrawny men, men with round faces, men with full lips, men with bangs, can all be genuinely attractive as men, uncompromised, masculine men. If you reorient, that is, what it means to be a masculine man.

Maybe she’ll grow up to be the type of straight girl who fucks her boyfriend with a strap-on. Maybe she won’t grow up to be straight after all. Maybe she’ll just be a plain vanilla Jane. That’s okay too. She opened a space of imagination. She put the poster above her bed, and went to sleep, and I hope her dreams were good ones, and I hope they come true. The ones about gay sex, I mean. I don’t really care about the rest.

[dreadart]

Workin on background today!! Oh and the smoke coming from the staff... that sounds dirty somehow but it’s not. 😂 #disneyfanart #disneyfans #disneyfanartshare #disneyfanartwork #disneyprincessfanart #jasminefanart #aladdinfanart #jafarfanart #disneyvillians #disneyvillains #disneyvillans #disneyvillainfanart #slashfiction #slashfanfiction #slavejasmine #arabiannights #1001arabiannights #disneycharacterart #disneyfanatic https://www.instagram.com/p/BtCGE14hcLj/?utm_source=ig_tumblr_share&igshid=gb8xyn6mzjn1

[dreadart]

Omg I’m having so much fun with this commission I can’t even stand it! 😆🎉 I’m sure you know the characters... can’t wait to share the final piece! #disneyfanart #disneyfans #disneyfanartshare #disneyfanartwork #disneyprincessfanart #jasminefanart #aladdinfanart #jafarfanart #disneyvillians #disneyvillains #disneyvillans #disneyvillainfanart #slashfiction #slashfanfiction #slavejasmine #arabiannights #1001arabiannights #disneycharacterart #disneyfanatic https://www.instagram.com/p/Bs_chmuh3OK/?utm_source=ig_tumblr_share&igshid=1jao9k6xgd4h1

[ladycubbins]

Title: Thailand Pairing: Jared/Colin Rating: PG-13 Disclaimer: The people mentioned in this story belong to themselves and the events are only a fragment of my imagination. A/N: English is NOT my mother language any mistake you see is all mine. This story was inspired by this selfie of Jared on…