Carry on my wayward son

Crossovers have a bad reputation. You think "crossover" and you think "badly written drivel that has nothing to do with either series" and no one wants to read that crap. I am here to tell you that crossovers need love, too. Crossovers can be just as well-written as any epic, any AU, any other genre at all. A good crossover doesn't require you to be intimate with both (or all) of the series used. A good crossover is just plain good.

( Supernatural, Stargate Atlantis, American Gods, The Dark Tower, Numb3rs, Transformers and more. )

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Let's try something new. I'm (very slowly) working on fic, but it only shows up on here once in a blue moon. BUT I constantly read fic. So let's get some recs in here. Remember to read the authors' warnings and ratings.

Let's start with On The Dodge which candle_beck posted last night. I spent the night reading it, unable to tear myself from the beautiful tragedy that is Sam and Dean cast as Butch and the Kid. They're not forced into the roles - they are every inch Sam'n'Dean, a combo I have been yearning for this last season. They're perfect. They're dusty and smell of saddle leather and every moment is bursting with emotions that can't be said and fears that can't be mentioned and it's so achingly, bruisingly perfect. I cannot recommend this enough.

To keep with the AU theme, Into His Hand by drvsilla also has dusty cowboys, but these ones are a wee bit more modern: they bullride. It's origific disguised as RPS and a strange combination of utterly fun and totally heartbreaking. I love their interactions, particularly as they try to figure out what on earth their relationship is. Nothing about this story is stereotypical. It's earthy and understated and dangerous. I love it.

Lastly (for today) is Keepsake by indysaur. J2 ala Wall-E, but also totally different. I am really not sure there is a way to rec this without spoiling it. Instead I will quote a bit from the beginning.
Everything is very quiet. There is no wind. It is 42 degrees Fahrenheit here. The lake stretches and spills out in front of him, glassy blue.
Maybe this time. Jared stares at his reflection. He traces the scar along his right side with his left hand.
"Hello," he says.
The trees come right up to the shore. He can hear the water lap quietly at their trunks.
He leans forward. He touches his fingers to the water. He stays there, fingertip to fingertip with the man in the lake. Until he can't feel them anymore.
"Hello," he says. A little louder. It’s really been a long time.

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