Import

Andrew met a guy at a bar. Sort of. He had a one night stand with the guy he met at a bar. Sort of. Then said guy he met at a bar and had a one night stand with became a regular hook-up. Sort of. Now the guy he met at a bar who became a regular hook-up after a one night stand keeps a toothbrush at his place. Sort of. Fuck.

The one night stand Jim Kirk has with the Vulcan passing through Riverside is a welcome break from the monotony. It's good, very good, but so fucking weird Jim's sure he's never gonna forget it. He's not quite expecting to run into Spock again in San Francisco. A second one night stand turns into a weekend, turns into a lot of weekends, turns into Bones joking that he's living half his week at Spock's apartment. But! But, and this is very important: they're not dating. What also turns out to be important is Spock's job, which Jim never bothered getting the details of. Starfleet Officer and a bartender-slash-bouncer? That's fine. Starfleet Academy Instructor and cadet? ...Less fine.

Destiny has been damaged. Someone who would have died, got up. Someone who would have been forgotten keeps their name. The first issue is that Zack Fair won't do this for around six years. But that's the nature of oblivion. You have no idea who isn't here to be met. You don't know what graves were paved over to make the story neat and simple. The second issue is that she's pretty damn sure the grave she woke up in belongs to someone else.

In which Wei Ying needs a stage manager and Lan Zhan is going to help whether Wei Ying likes it or not.

Sasuke kills Itachi, but this time he joins forces with the remaining Uchiha to seek vengeance on Konoha. It's a disaster for the village. The survivors are scattered, desperate, falling one by one. They need a miracle.

If it was the last thing Anakinn Theerapanyakun did, he’d make sure the treasure was his. Dragons were renowned for their hoarding, after all. He just didn’t account for the fact that the treasure might be a man with a smart mouth and trust issues a mild wide.

Being reborn into the Uchiha clan during the Warring Clans Era is surprisingly idyllic, so long as you don't mind hard work and are too young to know any of the people who are actually dying. But innocence never lasts, and trying to help family stay alive is a road strewn with a surprising number of pitfalls and last-minute diversions.

This is a roundup of the many exposes on the issues with AO3/OTW from discussions on key forums for the past week or so.

Given those postulates, I submit that the OTW has not done so due in large part to structural problems that are common to large volunteer-run organizations, but which are not innate, and therefore can and should be addressed. These structural problems amplify biases, and are also organizational problems in any situation. I am going to explain my reasoning for this take on what's going on, then suggest some org-level changes that I believe would make addressing the problem of racism in OTW-run spaces easier and more democratic, and finally go into some more detail about the specific solutions I believe would help people on AO3 have a less-racist experience there.

It's a good thing you were there," Porsche says to Pete "good thing you were there to hold me back". It's a half-lie because when the elevator door opened revealing Kinn and some man, one of Kinn's pretty boys, Pete didn't hold him back. He held him upright because when the guy reached over Kinn's collar and touched his neck Porsche was going to faint like a fucking teenager. Porsche knows countless ways to kill a man, he knows at least 10 places to bury them within the vicinity of the mansion and no one would find out. He thinks that he could stand over this boy's grave, light a cigarette and not feel a damn thing, other than satisfaction. You touched what's mine so now you're dead. The end.

Wei Wuxian sighs dramatically and straightens back up. “You can’t blame a man for trying, Lan Zhan. I bet you have people falling all over themselves for your number, huh?” Lan Wangji looks slightly uncomfortable at the prospect. “...No,” he repeats. “No?” asks Wei Wuxian incredulously. “Do you hang out with a lot of blind people or something?” “I have been told I do not have an engaging personality,” Lan Zhan says dryly. Wei Wuxian laughs. “Well, whoever said that was an idiot. I’m engaged.” ~ So Wei Wuxian's bar is a little haunted, it happens to the best of us. The point is that he's got it totally under control, no need for anyone from the Lan sect to ever drop by. Lan Wangji did not get the memo.

“I’m not…” He spits it out. “I’m not a whore. You can’t pay me enough to let you do this.” “I have no intention of paying you.” Kinn makes quick work of the buttons on Porsche’s vest and then his white shirt. He runs a hand up his chest once it’s exposed, causing Porsche to shiver. “I want you. I’ve wanted you since the wheels went up. But if you’re not interested, just say the word.” --- Porsche is a flight attendant for a private airline and Kinn is his most high-profile client yet. A mutual attraction ensures an entry into a certain club. **Edit: fixed formatting, AO3 screwed it up on my phone. Sorry!**

Ronan rolls his head so he’s looking at Adam, and even though the lights are off, Adam has spent countless hours memorizing the shape of that face, the sharpness of those cheekbones, the blue of his eyes. Adam wants to reach out and touch him, but something about this situation seems fragile and delicate, like if he moves he’ll crack it, and Ronan will be gone forever. He doesn’t know how he ever thought he was getting out of this unscathed. Ronan Lynch has changed him on a molecular fucking level, and there’s no going back from that.

Porsche loves Kinn. He'd said as much, and Kinn had nearly whited out in response. He hasn't said it back yet. Porsche doesn't seem to have let that affect him, hasn't acted differently towards him at all. Maybe he doesn't even need to hear it. And Kinn—Kinn isn't entirely sure why he's keeping him waiting. It isn't as if he isn't madly fucking in love with him.

“You can show me how sorry you are.” Kinn puts the glass down on a nearby table. “Get on the bed.” Porsche hesitates. He didn’t think this was the direction that Kinn would go in and it confuses him, coming now as it does with Kinn looking at him expectantly, no sign of the sorrow that’s haunted him for a week, like he’s finally come to a decision. “Get on the bed,” Kinn repeats, arms crossed. “Take off your clothes.” Or: Porsche broke Kinn's trust on the night he left to meet Vegas. Kinn comes up with a way for Porsche to earn that trust again.

First, you must understand that Wei Ying is dead. Deader than a door nail and that’s just a fact. Wei Ying, personally, doesn’t see that being dead has to slow him down much, no matter what various other ghosts, resentful corpses, or still-living family and friends have to say about it. There’s a war to be won and a little thing like death isn’t going to slow him down.

White's daily activities go something like this: 1. Pretend to be Black. 2. Pretend to be Black while avoiding his father's goons, who are looking for White 3. Look for the people who hurt Black to punish them 4. Come up with cover story when twin connection happens at the wrong moments. White really, really needs for his brother to wake up. Before his cover story gets blown to hell.

Popstar Wei Wuxian agrees to go on Nie Huaisang’s reality TV show, wherein celebrities play an arranged married couple for a month. His manager, Wen Qing, insists this will be good publicity—plus, the funds raised will go to a children’s music school. He’s excited—he’s never been in a relationship before, let alone a fake-arranged-marriage. But when he finds out that he’s been arranged to be married on the show to his rival Lan Wangji, he doesn’t know whether to grin and bear it, or run the other way. How much can he act smitten for the cameras?

“I did not insult my father, Wei Ying. I told him that I was, that we were.” Lan Zhan swallowed heavily. “Courting.” When his father pushes him to join a competition for Crown Princess Jiang Yanli's hand, Lan Wangji blurts out that he’s already courting Wei Wuxian to the delight of his mother. Wei Wuxian agrees, in exchange for his help convincing Wen Qing to join the competition and win. Unfortunately for their plans, the Emperor of Lanling’s nephew is cheating his way through the competition, and if he wins, the entire Kingdom of Yunmeng will fall into a deep sleep that could last centuries. Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji must keep up the courting act in front of their parents and prevent the curse from taking effect, all while ignoring their very real feelings.

Lan Wangji hopes, somewhat frivolously, that his betrothed might find him an acceptable companion. Neither he nor Wei Wuxian are able to bear children, so there will be no need to share a marital bed; that should make it easier for the two of them to reach a natural, comfortable equilibrium. Two strings played in harmony: this is Lan Wangji’s quiet hope, as he arranges the Jingshi to accommodate a second inhabitant. Perhaps, he thinks, they might even become friends.

It wasn’t solely in his head. That was the worst part. His head was a fractured and exhausted place, but he knew his way around it well enough. But this lived in the wilder terrain of his body, of his fingers curling—had they always done this?—at the sound of Ronan’s wicked laugh, of his stupid stubborn heart picking up its pace when Ronan’s name crossed his screen. It was in his veins and in his nerves and in other places he had spent too long resolutely ignoring to be able to control with any success now. (Or: Adam gets a phone, a kiss, an idea, and a nervous breakdown; Ronan gets a job. They're both figuring it out.)

“I was just thinking,” Wei Wuxian says, as he drags his brush across Lan Wangji’s formerly immaculate work. “Your Silence spell is unnecessary, not to mention cruel. After all, if you want me to be quiet, there are much more effective methods.” Lan Wangji knows that he is being set up for another of Wei Wuxian’s pranks, but he can’t help himself. “What methods?” Wei Wuxian beams in triumph, and Lan Wangji’s heart sinks. “Kissing, of course!” Or at cultivator summer camp, Wei Wuxian offers to give Lan Wangji kissing lessons. Lan Wangji is, as always, an excellent student.

After the dust has settled, Porsche still wants to know who killed his father, and what exactly happened to his mother. Unable to go to Kinn with his concerns, he works with Vegas and Pete to get more information. He realizes that what happened all those years ago is something that still haunts the entire family to this day - and is a mystery that Kim has been trying to solve for years.

Lan Zhan stops in front of one of the bespoke duplicates— a male figure, small, creamy-skinned and lithe. The name on the plinth reads Mo Xuanyu. Lan Zhan tested it on his first pass through the room. The doll was empty. No signals bouncing around its artificial brain, no operating programs queued to autostart. Not even a blinking dormancy light. "Hey big guy," says Mo Xuanyu, chrome eyes sparkling with fun. "Who do I gotta fuck around here to get unplugged?" Wei Ying is a rogue AI come to life. Lan Zhan is… handling it.

42 years ago, on a beautiful day in spring in 1973, a rock band from Chinatown, San Francisco, rose to fame and surpassed any expectations. They called themselves Coreless, and their sound defined an era. In 1978 they went on an unexpected hiatus during their biggest tour. Half a year later, in 1979, after months of silence, they split as their frontman and lead singer, Wei Wuxian, disappeared. No one knew why. Until now. Today, it’s the first time— and last time— the band will comment on their shared history. Coreless— the band that could not be tamed. The wait is over.

When Jiang Cheng abandons Wei Ying during con week to jetset to Paris for his anniversary, Wei Ying is left in a bind. The convention is in a few days, and he’s down one pair of hands and one male-model-proportioned didi to wear his costumes and entice customers to the booth. Then, in an unexpected twist of fate, Wei Ying’s cold, aloof coworker Lan Zhan volunteers to help Wei Ying in Jiang Cheng’s place. It’ll take some work—there are costumes to tailor, arrangements to be made, and the simple matter of Lan Zhan barely tolerating Wei Ying to overcome—but, with the application of a little elbow grease, it just might work.

It’s fine! They’re just gonna sleep! And Wei Wuxian is no longer suffering from the lingering effects of a haunting, so there will be no reason for Lan Zhan to medically spoon him, so therefore there will be no boner contact involved, and nothing will be awkward. Just two bros half a meter apart in a bed because they’re definitely gay but not actually involved! Wei Wuxian’s leg very nearly bounces itself into a nervous blur before the bathroom door opens again, and he forcibly stills it and stands up, waving at the bed in the most welcoming way he can. “Wall side’s all yours!” he says, for absolutely no fucking reason, and resists the very valid urge to slap himself in the face. “Thank you,” Lan Zhan says with a sincere little nod, possibly because he’s used to Wei Ying being an absolutely useless fuckface. Or: A sudden storm, a convenient cabin, a single bed, and the inevitable outcome.

“I was serious, you know—go easy on Porsche. You'll scare him right off the property.” Kinn raises an eyebrow. “You're suddenly worried about him?” Tay takes pride in catching Kinn off guard with his hip check. “Keep him around. He's the only one here who can make a half-decent martini." Conversations that happen in-between.

‘What do you think it would have been like, if we’d known each other when we were kids? If my parents - If things were different?’