LINKDING

<blockquote>Bandits came for Lalasa’s family and burned the whole farm out, except for her, because she had been at the river washing clothes. Lalasa did not miss her father or her brothers for all the long years of her life, which should tell you something about her. She cried for them anyway, and that should tell you something too. -- Retelling of Page and Squire from Lalasa's POV.</blockquote>

<blockquote>Spock and McCoy find themselves thrust into a new world and a new life. Can they work together to find their way home - or is being lost the best thing that ever happened to them? Reboot of Star Trek: The Next Generation episode 'The Inner Light'.</blockquote>

<blockquote>Obi-Wan didn't become Qui-Gon Jinn's apprentice, and Ben didn't exile himself to Tatooine. On Bandomeer the two meet.</blockquote> ➤ marked as a wip and hasn't updated in a year, but it feels like a good ending place to me so it doesn't read like a wip. ➤ This fic is a lovely look at how being part of the Agricorps instead of the Jedi Order can actually be a /good/ thing

<blockquote>Most people who have reached their eighties without raising children have every right to believe that they will go on not raising them, and Judith and I were no different until the day they turned up with the social worker, neatly scrubbed and pressed inside their vac-suits and carrying cases with all their remaining worldly possessions. There were three of them like stairsteps, their black hair cut in fringes across their foreheads and their dark eyes shining out disconcertingly familiar at me. But it wasn’t until the social worker said, “Mr. Chao and Ms. Goldstein, these are your grandchildren, Enid, Richard, and Harry,” that I remembered, sheepishly, about the genes we had given all those years ago, to that nice couple from New New Prague, before they left for the Oort Cloud.</blockquote>

<blockquote>Nurse Angelica always dreamed of a day when Julia and Tybalt would be happy, surrounded by children and with loving spouses to stand between them. Now that that day has finally come, she can no longer avoid a conversation she's long deflected. A fix-it of sorts, inspired by drcalvin's "Gallant offers ill-delivered."</blockquote>

<blockquote>Inspired by the lyrics, a tale of five people who love each other very much coming together at Christmas.</blockquote>

<blockquote>All of this world is for children who play.</blockquote>

➤ the one about polyamorous bird people

<blockquote>Someone is gathering every crumb you drop, these (mindless decisions and) moments you long forgot. A Bucky vid.</blockquote> ➤ oooh what a gorgeous song and so perfect

<blockquote>In Japan, it is not too much to say that everything is about appearances.   It is a habit cultivated over a life-time, and not one easy to break.</blockquote> ➤ a Miko character study ➤ series consists of: Zoh-onna Omote Tadaima ➤ also at https://archiveofourown.org/works/1182813

<blockquote>Dana's back. Intern Vithya is new. Cecil and Carlos are just the same, but different. Today, Night Vale is the safest place on earth.</blockquote> ➤ or: Night Vale during the US government shutdown

<blockquote>No one noticed the one man who left the city gates on foot, following a flock of starlings winging towards Mantua. A sequel of sorts to sail upon the bosom of the air: a few things that might have happened next.</blockquote>

<blockquote>For drcalvin: "do write us crackfic where Mercutio gives everyone in Verona sexually transmitted wings!" Less...cracky than originally intended. More of a fairytale fix-it. Where everyone in Verona has sexually transmitted wings.</blockquote>

<blockquote>When Gaila escapes from the Syndicate a little earlier than she planned, she finds an unexpected companion - a Vulcan Starfleet commander.</blockquote>

<blockquote>Elinor remembered the slow drift from humanity to wild animal, like falling asleep listening to music until only the drumbeat remained.</blockquote>

<blockquote>When he had counted six hundred seconds, he turned on the light again and took two pieces of paper out of his wallet. One was a picture of Saturn, its rings, and two of its moons; that picture had arrived on earth on November 3, 1980, exactly six years, four months, and three days before Isaac was born, though it had been taken by the Voyager 1 spacecraft before that, because light took time to travel no matter where in the universe you were (at least on the scale at which humans and spacecraft operated). The other was a list of things from Dr. Mazzy that were okay, and the third thing on the list was 'making mistakes'. He read the whole list over four times, focusing on those two words in particular. He didn't forget things; sometimes he just didn't remember to remember them. He decided it was okay to make a mistake when he was excited, and he was excited. On Friday, Rick would be back. That made thinking about anything else difficult.</blockquote> ➤ in which the pov character is on the autism spectrum, and his best-friend-since-childhood (and boyfriend now) films things, a job involving lots of exciting travel and stories

<blockquote>It was the war's fault that she was there, in dungarees and with all her wavy red hair tied back in a kerchief, her hands grubby in the crevices of her knuckles and palms, holding pneumatic tools she hadn't known had existed two weeks before, wearing a gold locket with Tom's picture in it the way his letters promised he kept what few pictures he had of her wedged in the crevices of the metal that held his bunk to the wall. The war was responsible for how the nails she'd always kept so nice were ragged at the tips and cuticles, and rimmed around and beneath with heavy black-brown grease; the war was why she came home to an empty house and cooked supper for one and jumped in the middle of the night at every unexplained noise and sometimes stayed awake until dawn, hugging Tom's pillow to her chest and telling herself it was going to be all right.</blockquote> ➤ happy comfortable poly (V triad) during and after WWII ➤ and the art that goes with it is perfect

<blockquote>The first time she saw the boy across the classroom, Ah Lee knew she was in love because she tasted durian on her tongue. That was what happened–no poetry about it. She looked at a human boy one day and the creamy rank richness of durian filled her mouth. For a moment the ghost of its stench staggered on the edge of her teeth, and then it vanished. She had not tasted fruit since before the baby came. Since before she was dead. After school she went home and asked the aunts about it. “Ah Ma,” she said, “can you taste anything besides people?”</blockquote>

<blockquote>I want a moment to be real.</blockquote>

➤ In which Eames was Calvin as a kid! sequel: The Physiological Response to Absurdity http://ae-match.livejournal.com/133332.html

<blockquote>an utterly self-indulgent crossover that got entirely out of hand</blockquote> ➤ sldkfjhdflksdjjfd look this is one of those fics that just STAYS IN MY BRAIN because of how true and perfect and right and wonderful it is. YESSSSS. I am so glad this fic exists.

➤ Waiting for each other in an in-between place after death. ➤ Deathfic but somehow peaceful and heartwarming and awesome

<blockquote>The snow fell heavily for three days, covering tracks and drawing a veil across the world. By the morning of the fourth, they were out of food, and Ronon went hunting. He'd thought McKay was asleep, but the tightly wrapped bundle of silvery emergency blankets stirred, and a tuft of brown hair poked out the top, along with one fever-bright blue eye. "You'll never find your way back," Rodney rasped. "Yeah I will," and the snow swallowed him, muffling whatever protest Rodney had made.</blockquote>