kate: Cougar from the Losers with his sniper rifle (Losers: Cougar!)
[personal profile] kate
The Fandom Snowflake Challenge
Day 10: Sometimes you run across a creator and just fall in love with what they do. Maybe they're really good at what they do or maybe something about what they create strikes a chord in you. Either way, you end up just inhaling everything they've ever done. And wanting more, of course...*g*

Share a creator with us. It doesn't have to be your absolutely favorite creator, because I don't know about you, but I have a long list of absolute favorites. Maybe pick someone less well-known, or someone who does something unique in terms of media or pairings or ships or fandoms.


Okay, so, this is so tough. Because I would honestly, unreservedly rec half my flist. Names that I had half-written posts for: [personal profile] busaikko (she alone has expanded my fic horizons by whole galaxies), [personal profile] devildoll (as I've said before: the first author in SGA when I jumped in where I read absolutely everything I could get my hands on), [personal profile] anatsuno (if she's reading it, I'm listening to it), [personal profile] chkc (chibis that make me grin like a fool, gorgeous non-chibi art - sometimes with tentacles!)... the list goes on.

But my smaller fandom needs a little love, too, and while there are a bunch of folks in The Losers fandom that I love (omg, [profile] lady_krysis and [personal profile] james and [personal profile] katemonkey and [archiveofourown.org profile] JoeLawson, the list goes on for miles), the person whose writing makes me jump up and down with glee is:

[personal profile] storm_petrel

So, I may be a little biased because [personal profile] storm_petrel wrote me By daybreak we'll be gone for [community profile] ante_up_losers last year. From the notes: This is the story about how Franklin Clay grew up, joined the army, and got a pack, mostly by accident, or, as my sister calls it, being a werewolf means never having to talk about your feelings. I love this story a ridiculous amount. It's Cougar/Jensen, with Roque/Clay sort of, and just, team. I love love love love this story to bits and pieces.

In the darkness, Roque snorts. “I wake up with Cujo in my head and no bullet in my heart, we’ll call that a fair trade, okay?” And then he rolls over, and buries his face in the curve of Clay’s shoulder and inhales.

It’s not sexual at all, but it’s the still the most intimate thing Clay’s ever felt, and he shivers, takes a deep breath. Roque lifts his head, and one corner of his mouth lifts up in a lopsided smirk. “Mostly,” he rumbles, “I get the feeling you were supposed to
be there when I woke up.”

With the wolf, things are easy. Blood is blood, but pack is pack, wherever you find it. And Clay takes another deep breath, and Roque’s scent triggers something elemental in his brain. He’d recognize it anywhere, now, across a thousand miles and through a million people. And maybe there’s something else he can give the kid, after all, so Clay says, “I won’t leave you again.” And that’s the absolute truth.


And let us not forget the inspiration for my [livejournal.com profile] sga_santa lolcat fic: The first eight don't count. Jensen is a werecat. I fucking love this fic to pieces, and it is right up there with some of my classic SGA comfort fics when I need to curl up on the couch and make myself feel better.

Jensen calls his less-than-human form Cat. It’s not very creative, but Jensen doesn’t have another name for him that doesn’t involve multiple swear words in three languages. Besides, Cat is shorter. Cat is the reason that most people think Jensen’s moderately unbalanced. Cat requires distraction techniques and excuses. Cat requires a verbal twenty-four-seven variety act because if people think you’ve just been skipping your ADHD meds, they don’t think things like, huh, maybe he actually *is* a bona-fide freak of nature, and maybe he turns into a house pet according to lunar cycles. Which should be completely stupid, but Jensen’s lived his whole life in crowded foster homes, army barracks, in Iraq where you couldn’t take a shit without the whole platoon knowing, and now with a special Ops team who’ve been trained to notice a mosquito die in, like, the next building. And no one’s worked it out yet.

One last rec (though, seriously, just go to [archiveofourown.org profile] storm_petrel and read everything): These things get louder (or, five times the losers met the a-team) because as crossovers go, this is the one I wanted from day one.

Suddenly, back in the cabin, someone yells, “Alvarez, you crazy motherfucker, what the fuck are you doing?”

Murdock knows that tone of voice. It means someone’s just done something unexpected and
interesting. People use it around him all the time. He glances in the cockpit side mirror, and there’s Alvarez, hanging out the open door frame. He’s hooked to the chopper by his leather rifle strap, and he’s got the gun to his shoulder. Even in the wild slipstream, his body is almost steady. Murdock can’t see his eyes, but he can use his imagination.

Murdock grins, and drops forward thrust so fast, the chopper almost stops in midair. There’s the flat report of the rifle, once-twice-three-shots, and then Alvarez bellows,
“Go!”

Behind them, the other chopper is losing altitude fast, its canopy glass a mass of spiderwebbed cracks. Perfect killshot on a chopper pilot from another moving chopper, Jesus
Christ. Murdock can’t believe that fucking worked.

So, that's my love letter to [personal profile] storm_petrel. Go, go and read. And if you haven't seen The Losers yet, let these fics convince you - it's totally worth it. <3
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