YOU WATCH US RUN

Usually, I try to post a new story on my birthday as an annual “gift to the fandom.” This year, I’m going to try something new: I’ll hold a random draw and the winner(s) will receive a custom-written story.

Is there a favourite obscure fandom you’ve always wished someone would write for? A story I wrote that you want a sequel to? Or would you like me to write about one of your OCs? I’ll do it! (With some limits; see below.)

Think of it as a free “commission”—this is your chance to ask for whatever you really want!

[fine print under the cut]

S U P E R    S U N D A Y !

Don’t Like, Don’t Read started as a disclaimer warning on slash fics, back when slash fics were way less accepted than they are now and some people would freak out upon reading them. The idea was simple: if you don’t like the ship I’m writing about, don’t read my story and then get mad at me for it.

Obviously it’s expanded since then, but it’s also become an easy blugeon against people talking about racism or other such issues in fic/fandom, because it’s a treasured remnant of Old Fandom, even if most people don’t remember its origins.

I am a huge fan of the general concept of Don’t Like, Don’t Read. Readers are under no obligation to finish a story. I have opened many a story and either closed it immediately because it had some writing or formatting issue or gotten halfway through and gone, eh, not my thing, and stopped. There are ships I don’t want to read about, so I don’t.

More broadly, it encompasses a really important point in fandom: authors produce all of their work for free, and so they are under no obligation to cater to the desires of their readers by using a certain style, writing a certain ship, or changing their plot. I have talked about that ridiculous comment I got recently, and to them I would say: Don’t Like? Don’t Read. But leave me out of it.

None of this makes writers immune to criticism. Don’t Like, Don’t Read isn’t a magic barrier you get to put around yourself or a cross you can use to ward off unwanted spirits. If you are racist or sexist or homophobic or otherwise bigoted (even if it’s not intentional), people absolutely have a right to call you out on it, the same way they do if you had published an essay or a book or a post on Tumblr. If you are putting something out into the world that hurts people, people should and will call you on it.

Fandom isn’t some magical utopia where everyone is progressive and perfect and nobody can ever be harmed by what someone writes. It’s not some ideal set of queer women unproblematically writing subversive fiction, untouched by all of the biases of the world. It’s a bunch of random people making things, and it can be just as good and just as bad as things being made outside of the magical etherial bubble of FandomTM.

(Sorry this took so long, life has been hectic!)

_________

Cassian catches her at the edge of the mess. She doesn’t stop when he grabs her elbow, she doesn’t stop when he follows her through the doors to the hallway.

“Jyn.”

He calls her name, once. Desperation colors it, leaking in when he catches sight of how red her neck is, how tight her fists are clenched.

For some reason the sound of her name stops her.

“Jyn, please.” They’re alone in the corridor, and he manages to tug her around until she faces him.

Her brilliant green eyes glare up at him; she isn’t crying. Thank the goddess for small mercies. Cassian Andor might be a top intelligence officer, but he has no idea what he’d do if he were confronted with a crying Jyn Erso.

“Sure you want to be seen with me?” She is madder that a wet Lotho-cat. “Huh? Think the Rebellion could stand to see one of their golden boys with a-a-an Imp-whore?”

The way she spits the epithet tells him how hurt she really is. He feels his shoulders sag, lets her see his own vulnerability.

“They’re wrong about you.” The softness of his voice surprises even him. She scoffs though, ready to blow him off, so he touches her shoulder gently and repeats himself. “Hey. They’re wrong about you. Estrella.”

She blinks up at him, some of the fight gone from her eyes. Cassian realizes how close they are. How they’re leaning together. How this is one of the few times they’ve been together this month without Kay or Bodhi or Dameron or Skywalker hovering nearby with something to say, and they’re leaning closer still, Jyn’s eyes fluttering and —

“Ex-cuuuuuuse me.”

A hand comes between them, and then a shoulder and a puffer-vest covered torso. Cassian watches in mild disbelief as the man folds himself between them in the corridor, fully separating them even though there was plenty of space to go around them.

“Solo.” Jyn’s teeth are set in a snarl.

“Lieutenant.” Solo spins on his heel, having completely passed through them; he bobs his head at her and winks cheekily enough at Cassian that he’s relieved Han won’t be able to tell he’s flushing. “Captain Andor.”

With that, the famed pilot is gone, leaving Jyn seething, and Cassian still ruffled from the way he’d purred his name.

Cassian turns to Jyn, ready to finish their conversation, but the sound of pounding feet approaches from the other end of the corridor and from the mess — it’s the shift change, and they’re due on opposite sides of the base.

“Later?” He asks Jyn, oddly nervous.

(And if it takes a few days or few years, always happy to have you tackle one of my prompts - thanks)!

BTW legit almost snorted the morning coffee out of my nose at the “Ex-cuuuuuuse me.” 🤣 

when Cassian first brought his new… friend… to base

ho, ho, ho @vanderlinde!

And now for something you probably weren’t expecting - a long belated new chapter of your Rebel Captain Secret Santa gift from a galaxy long ago and far away.

I hope you enjoy! (And I promise not to make y’all wait quite so long for the next chapter). _____________________ part one

part two