#this fic goes out to miss onions

[faeriekit]

Frozen Out

Another phic phight fill, another day; this one's for @akela-nakamura. No one is allowed to say anything about my need for Far Frozen fics.

(Sister fics are Snow Day and Snowdrift Sanctuary)

Breakfast comes, and breakfast goes. Frostbite cooked last night, so it’s leftover soup. 

There’s some kind of bird meat in it that Danny’s vaguely aware of, and a root vegetable that’s basically a hardy onion. The grain in it is a wild rice that’s virtually identical to the one in the human world, supposedly; Danny never had wild rice while he was eating at his parents’ house, though, so it’s new to him. 

It’s interesting how it cracks and breaks apart on his tongue. The food’s different here, but the Far Frozen has food that mostly matches human cuisine in far climates. Sure, it’s made of ghost birds and ghost vegetables and ghost grains, but they’re at least recognizable as sea birds, vegetation, and grain. It’s not weird for him to eat food that looked like food. 

If Danny had moved in with Princess Dorathea the way she’d offered, he’d be eating ghosts that looked like people. 

Yeah. This is better. 

Danny likes his soup. It’s reheated on the stovetop so that it’s warm. 

His bowl goes beside the door— he’ll scrape the dishes in the snow later— and goes for his coat and boots. There’s gloves that Neuschnee, Tundra’s mom,  knitted for him, on tiny needles that would have been hard for him to manipulate even without her huge clawed hands. 

They’re very warm. They have little green and blue stripes and little blue snowflakes spun on yeti-fur yarn. He likes them a lot. 

Danny leaves the warm interior of the cave, takes a big breath, and wanders out towards the center of the settlement. 

There are lots of occupied caves in the Far Frozen. Some of them are constructed in ice, but many are formed from natural rock— or whatever passes as ‘natural’ in the Infinite Realms. Early history of yeti society is rocky; there’s apparently debate as to whether the yetis found the land while wandering the zone, whether the land spawned the people to occupy it as a deterrent against wanderers and interlopers, or whether they all came into being together. 

“Aren’t you immortal? Or, you know…long-lived? Long-dead?” Danny had asked, confused. “Weren’t you here the whole time?”

“Yes,” Frostbite had agreed easily. 

“So…shouldn’t you remember?” 

“There are theories about that as well,” Frostbite had pointed out, amused with Danny’s frustration. “As it is, we do not.” 

So. There’s that. 

That being said, Danny knows there’s a lot of history; Arctic can recite cycles of songs for five hundred seasons back, and he’s not over a hundred years old. 

Probably. 

Danny stops beside a snow drift and scratches his head through his thick hood. Is Arctic a hundred years old? 

…Anyway, Danny continues, trucking onwards, if he is, he has to adjust his worldview on teenage yetis. If he’s not, then that means that Danny’s right about part two of his plan, which includes the vague idea that a society of yetis with an advanced medical techniques and application probably has a library somewhere. 

Or. You know. So he hopes. Man, if they pass down the entirety of their medical knowledge through oral tradition, Danny’s going to be screwed. Either way, he’s just in time to wander into Pritla’s glacial alcove before they’re finished with their own breakfast— a fish, apparently, devoured by sharp teeth and a huge maw. 

“Morning,” Danny greets, because he’s polite that way. He knows Pritla knows he’s here. Everyone so far has made fun of how loudly he walks. 

“Good morning, Phantom,” Pritla greets back, blue tongue licking bits of fish out from between huge fangs. Danny’s human right now, but for some reason, using his human name is culturally weird to them. It must be less intuitive, or something. It’s not like they can’t recognize him either way. “Is there something you’re missing?”

“No, thank you.” Last time he was here, it was because Jazz had sent over his workbooks and worksheets with pencils and no sharpener. Once the tips had snapped, it had all been over. “Is there a library?” 

Pritla’s furry eyebrows rise up over their brow ridge. “Did you expect there not to be one?” 

Danny’s nose squishes. “No. I assumed there is one. I just don’t know where it would be.”

The yeti’s eyes roll up to the ceiling; honestly, Danny knows that they do hard work for Frostbite, but they’re kind of annoying. “Have you tried downstairs?” 

“...Downwhat,” says Danny. 

So. It turns out. Far Frozen goes down. 

Like, there’s a hole in the ice, and it goes down— down long steps carved straight out of the ice, into blue-glowing tunnels woven with streams of rock and salt. 

“...Huh,” Danny observes. “Down.”

“Indeed,” Prita rumbles. The yeti turns, their bulk and form imposing as they head back up the stairs. “Everything is etched into the walls; feel free to make any copies of the writings you find. The farther down you go, the newer the writing becomes.”

“Thank you!” Danny hollers back, finally feeling some sense of burgeoning accomplishment. He’s almost there; all he has to do is take something impressive down, and get it copied onto something portable. He has old blank scrap paper stuck into his pockets. This should be easy. He feels very confident in reading into the yetis’ written cultural knowledge…

…And then notices that it’s written in an entirely different syllabary. 

Right. Danny wants to bang his head on the ice wall. Universally spoken ghost language, entirely different societal interpretation. Shoot. 

Interpreting this will take him ages. 

Still, Danny settles in; there’s no rush. He wasn’t supposed to have lessons today, since Tundra caught a wheeze and now he’s being all whiny about it, so he has all the time until dinner to copy and to get some graphite rubbings off the wall. 

Danny pulls up one of the carved stools, sits his butt down, and writes. 

*

“Frostbite?” 

Frostbite looks down. Danny smashes his face into the yeti’s fur; it’s hardly even a blow to his guardian, and it’s apparently instinctual for cubs to do something similar anyway. So. It’s a very affectionate gesture, even if it feels like playing rough to Danny. 

And Danny gets petted by a giant yeti hand. There are many advantages to living in the Far Frozen. 

Frostbite rumbles something, but Danny can’t actually hear him through the fur. He pokes his head out to get a listen. 

“—Good day?” 

“Mmhmm.” It had been productive, anyway. “I saw the library.” 

“The hall of records?” Frostbites ask, his voice a gentle rumble. Danny leans into the sound. “Ambitious of you. Did you learn anything new?”

Danny had. So he talks about the loss of the rainy seasons for snowy ones and The Year That It Rained Upwards, and about drifting too far against the edge of the Infinite Realms until they smashed into another kingdom and were forced to fight. He talks about the process of washing starlight moss until it becomes food instead of vegetation, and he talks about what it says about birthing traditions, and what it means to be Never-borne in a people that had probably never once lived in the human world.

Or maybe they had? There were some theories downstairs that speculated that they were the ghosts of real Yetis. Danny hadn’t known what to think. He’d taken the notes down anyway, because…well…what if they are? What if they’re all that’s left of the human world’s yeti population: ectoplasmic imprints and non-living beings??  

Frostbite knows everything Danny tells him about. Obviously. He was there for almost everything, too. But he lets Danny ramble on in a way that his parents never had, letting Danny explain his own history to him with new eyes and new words. It’s cathartic. Danny clings to Frostbite’s fur as the yeti walks around their living space, skinning and deboning Sky Whale meat to add to tonight’s meal. An adolescent human really weighs nothing to him. It’s so funny. 

“I am glad to know that you are able to take advantage of the histories,” Frostbite rumbles. Danny preens. “What encouraged you to seek them out?” 

Danny goes quiet. 

Frostbite looks over his shoulder to look at Danny, but lets Danny resolve his silence on his own terms. 

“...I wanted to see. If.” Danny licks his lips. Frostbite hums, showing that he’s listening. “If…if there’s records of a real ghost society, with its own language and culture and everything…they’ve gotta listen, right?”

The round knife in Frostbite’s hand stills. 

“They always say that…that ghosts are just pretending, that there’s nothing to ghost consciousness, that there’s nothing to anyone’s existence in the afterlife. But there’s records.” Danny’s throat tightens. “There’s known history. There’s language and a syllabary and…and there’s political conflict and agriculture and advanced medical care and weather charts. That has to be enough proof. If I show it to them, then they should be able to see.”

The knife gets set down. Frostbite wipes his hands on a towel. Danny can’t see his face. 

“It’s gotta be enough,” Danny tries again. His throat hurts. His eyes itch. But he thinks he could be right. “So if I show it to them, and they see it, and they see how far back the knowledge goes, and how careful everyone is to take care of each other and how nice everyone is and how good, and…and…”

Frostbite’s hug is soft, and warm. It’s amazing, and it’s not his Dad’s. Danny’s Dad is never going to hug him again. 

Danny cries. 

“Oh, little one,” Frostbite hums, and his face looks just as pained as Danny feels. “Little Phantom, it’s not safe for you to return to them, even to drop off records. If they had wanted to know more of the Infinite Realms, they would have tried to search them. I do not think that they are willing to listen, and I am too afraid to risk your health to see if they would change their minds when confronted with evidence.” 

He sobs. “But, but,” Danny cries, his throat torn with emotion. The hug pins his arms so his sides, so he just ends up snotting into his guardian’s fur. “...But I need them.” 

“I know, little one.” 

“They loved me,” Danny cries, because he knows that it had been true— that, once upon a time, there had been a family made of Jazz, Danny, Mom, and Dad. “They… Frostbite, I miss them so bad!”

Frostbite’s arms tighten. He lowers himself to the ground, until Danny is in a nest of yeti fur and pain and devastation and little else. 

“I know, little one,” Frostbite says, because there’s no other reassurance he can give. 

“I won’t… They’ll never want to see me again!”

“...I am so sorry,” Frostbite murmurs, endlessly patient with him. His ears are pulled back, his eyes taut with stress. 

He can’t help it. He breaks down. 

Danny clings. He cries— long, and loud, because pretending that he had a home to go back to had only worked until it stopped. He wants to go home. He wants to pretend to be all-human again. 

He’ll never go home. He’ll never pretend to be all-human again. 

He’ll do his lessons and Jazz will ferry his schoolwork to and from Casper High but he’ll never live with her again— never do his homework on her bed, never watch Dr. Phil with her on the couch, never eat lazy breakfasts with her or spend nights wondering if she’d come home safe from her date. 

Sam and Tucker can visit, but they’ll never be able to stay; every trip will be stolen, surreptitious, since they don’t have a reason to be in his house anymore. No more Tucker and Sam gaming nights. No more trips to catch dinner together at the Nasty Burger.

No more Ops Center. No more house. 

No more of Danny’s bedroom. 

Because otherwise, Mom and Dad would know. And they would get him. 

Mom and Dad don’t love him anymore. And…that’s the end of it.

So Danny cries himself out. Wipes off his nose with his undershirt sleeve. Resolves to get over himself. It hurts, because everything hurts, but there’s still life to be lived, kind of. Probably. 

Presumably. 

He doesn’t let go of Frostbite, though, who doesn’t let go of him; so Danny ends up eating his rare Sky Whale stew on a furry throne made of guardian yeti, blearily shoving food in his mouth until his stomach stops cramping. 

Frostbite puts him back into his coat, one arm at a time. Frostbite carries him out of their cave, even though it’s usually time for a bright night’s nap after dinner. Whatever. Danny doesn't have the energy to ask what’s happening to him. 

In the end, though, Danny does recognize Tundra’s Mom’s glacial ice cavern, since no one else has such carefully carved walls. 

Frostbite doesn’t ask, and Neuschnee doesn’t disrupt; she sits, calm, carving a soapstone block, as Danny gets laid down on their woven carpet. 

Danny blinks. 

Frostbite goes, and comes back— and Neuschnee smiles wryly as Tundra gets placed down beside Danny, fast asleep and dreaming of cars. 

Danny’s never been in such a huge, furry cuddle pile before, but as Frostbite lays down, his huge shoulder pushing him into Tundra’s smaller form in a cascade of ghost dominoes…

It’s nice. 

Danny will never have back what he had, but he has this. 

…That can be enough. Right?

Danny doesn’t know the answer for sure, but he falls asleep still thinking about it, the scrape of knife on stone all that he can hear. 

…Sure. This can be enough for now. 

[shmaptainwrites]

𝐇𝐎𝐌𝐄 𝐃𝐀𝐓𝐄 [𝐉𝐀𝐌𝐄𝐒 𝐖𝐈𝐋𝐒𝐎𝐍]

PAIRINGS — James Wilson x Reader (no pronouns used)

SUMMARY — James comes home just in time to help with dinner

WARNINGS — one almost dirty joke

NOTE — This is a request from the winner of my fic lottery @anayame The concept was so cute to write and I hope you like it!

Middle picture credit goes to @shots-of-wilson-and-whiskey

It had been a while since James could confidently say he had come home to the smell of food being cooked in the kitchen. The sound of onions sizzling and sauces bubbling was like a fanfare welcoming and inviting him into the space. 

“Hey, you got back home just in time,” he heard your voice call from the kitchen. “I need an extra pair of hands, get in here.” 

“Normally when people say that it means the food is already finished cooking,” James teased, after having taken off his shoes and rolled up his sleeves so that you could put him to work. 

“And let you miss out on this fun?” you scoffed. “No way.” 

“Where do you need me?” he asked, coming to stand behind you, placing his hands on your hips and pressing a kiss behind your ear. “Cause I’m more than happy to just keep doing this.” 

“Ease up, lover boy,” you chuckled. “Steak needs searing and I know how particular you get about your perfect medium.” 

“Steak, are we celebrating?” he asked. 

“Yes, the fact that you made it home on time for dinner,” you looked over at him to gauge his reaction and he couldn’t fight back a smile and shook his head. 

“How was work?” he asked, side-stepping your comment. 

“My arch-nemesis is an eight-year-old named Justin, how do you think work went?” you asked and James laughed at your response. “I’m kidding, it was alright, Justin has a cold so he wasn’t in class today.” 

“I’m excited to come in for career day and meet all these eight-year-olds that occupy every story you tell,” he said. “Who knows, maybe Justin will like me.” 

“I doubt it, he only likes his friend Asante and even then sometimes Asante still gets caught up in his whirlwind. Kind of like you and House actually.” 

“I do not get caught up in his whirlwind,” James looked at you, offended, and you looked over at him to ask if he was serious. 

“You lied to the police for him, you most definitely got caught up in it.” 

James opened his mouth for a rebuttal, but shut it seeing as you had made a very valid point. 

“How was your day at work?” you asked. “Did Cuddy finally approve that expansion for the playroom?” 

“Not quite yet, but I think I’m almost there. Maybe if I throw House under the bus when he goes behind her back that’ll sweeten the deal,” he thought to himself. 

“But at what cost, House is gonna fight back and you’re gonna regret every decision you ever made.” 

James weighed his options before giving up and saying he’d decide what to do about it later. 

You moved over to the stove where James was to pour some pureed tomatoes into the onions frying on the stove to make a sauce to go on the side with the vegetables and the steak. What you didn’t realize is that James, in his haste to turn down the heat on the stove, would knock the spoon out of your hand, making it fall in the dish and making the tomatoes splatter all over your shirt. 

“Oh my God,” James’ eyes went wide, seeing the splotch on your shirt. “I’m so sorry.” 

“I should have known having you in the kitchen would only result in disaster,” you teased, not at all upset by the mess. “It’s nothing a little TLC can’t take care of.” 

“Can I make it up to you?” James asked. “I know how much you liked that shirt.” 

You used your finger to scoop off some of the pureed tomato off your shirt and place it on his nose. 

“I don’t know, can you?” you asked with raised brows. 

James wiped the sauce off his nose before grabbing your sleeves and giving you a signal with his eyes for you to slip your arms out of them before he helped pull the shirt off your head without contaminating anything else, leaving you in a thin tank top. 

“I think you’re just making it up to yourself,” you laughed, looking down at what you were wearing. 

“If I were making it up to myself, I would have done this,” he took the spoon out of the tomato sauce and flicked it at you, now getting your undershirt dirty. “Oops.” 

“Oh, you’re so going to pay for that,” you shook your head and just to spite him you kept the tank top on even though it was dirty. 

By then the butter in James’ pan had melted and was beginning to bubble so he turned his attention back to the stove so that he could begin searing the steak. You cooked in tandem for a while, and once the steak was cooked James stole a few kisses from you, apologizing again for your shirt and you assured him he could take it off later if he really wanted to. 

“Do you want me to set the table?” James asked, after washing his hands and having set the steak off to the side. 

“That would be nice, it could be like a little home date,” you smiled while putting some potatoes in the oven to cook. 

You watched as James dug around the cupboards for a tablecloth and candles, carefully setting everything up on the dining room table so that it was just right. 

Slowly, one by one, the dishes made their way onto the table as they were ready and when everything was set up you looked down at yourself and wondered if maybe you were a bit underdressed. 

“Maybe I should change into something a little nicer,” you said while James lit the candles on the table. 

“Change, what for?” 

“I’ve got tomato all over my shirt, James. I thought that one was pretty obvious.” 

“No, I mean this is a home date, isn’t the whole point that it can be as messy as we want it to be?” he asked. “I mean, I don’t have to wear this tie,” he pointed to it as he came closer to you, prompting you to take it between your fingers and feel the fabric before helping him untie it and throw it off to the side. 

You unbuttoned the top few buttons of his shirt and for good measure he took a spoon of the sauce and poured it on his shirt. 

“There, we match.” 

“And need to do a load of laundry after this,” you chuckled and pulled him in by the collar of his shirt for a kiss. “I love you, and I love cooking with you.” 

“Me too, to both of those things,” James agreed and you grinned before turning him around and pushing him in the direction of his seat, insisting that you were starving and needed to eat. “So, I was thinking,” James started while serving you some sides. 

“Oh, that’s dangerous.” 

“I was thinking,” he repeated. “Our anniversary is coming up. Do you want to do something special?” 

“Hmm,” you thought for a moment. “We could both take a sick day,” you suggested. “Or a few, go up to Connecticut, rent a cabin.” 

“Cook all day,” James teased and you smiled. “I think that sounds like a great plan. We’ve always talked about doing something like that haven’t we?” 

“Yeah, it just…I don’t know, never seemed like the right time.” 

“You sure you won’t miss your kiddos too much?” he asked. 

“As much as I love them, a few days just the two of us is too enticing to pass up,” you sipped your drink. 

Eating dinner was not nearly as fun as cooking it together, but you both made do with what you could and James stories were nothing short of interesting especially when they included House and his team. 

“Alright, I think I’m stuffed now,” you leaned back in your seat. “But we should clean this up before I go into a food coma.” 

“I wash, you rinse?” James asked. 

“We have a dishwasher, James,” you chuckled. 

“I know, I just thought you might want to spend more time, but I know when my company isn’t wanted,” he feigned offence. 

“Awe, that’s actually really sweet,” you let out a small laugh. “Alright, I’ll suffer through dishwashing for you, Wilson.” 

“Just for that, you’re washing and I’m rinsing,” he gave you a look and you conceded, standing up from the table and clearing the leftovers before getting started on what was in the sink. 

“James, be careful with that, you’re accidentally spraying water all over me,” you nudged him with your hip. 

“Oh sorry I meant to actually spray water all over you,” he turned the moveable faucet in your direction and you gasped when the water hit your shirt. “I mean you did say we needed to do laundry.” 

“Is this why you wanted to wash dishes? To get me wet?-I heard it James don’t you dare make a comment,” you immediately amended and he fought back a chuckle. 

“I love you,” he smiled again and you wished he would wipe that stupid grin off of his face because it made it really hard to be annoyed with him. 

“You think you can just say I love you and it’s gonna make it all better?” you asked. “Cause you’re right, it is,” you grabbed his face with your soapy hands and pressed a kiss to his lips, sandwiched between smiles and chuckles. 

To say you both looked ridiculous by the end was an understatement, but James couldn’t remember the last time he’d had so much fun at dinner and it became very clear that maybe he needed to come home a little early more often.

TAGLIST —

@cuntyvicodin @paola-carter @kiddbegins @il0vebeingdelulu @illicit4ff4irs @lynnsthoughts @miarabanana @iwmflbb @/shots-of-wilson-and-whiskey

[milllersfae]

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷   butch!abby headcanons

content warning: dom!abby, strap referred to as a dick, ooey-gooey lesbianism, femme!reader, sfw and nsfw content. (please tell me if i missed anything!) minors do not interact.

a/n: this is completely self indulgent. i’m a simp okay? hopes this holds someone over while i write this bodyguard! fic <3

sfw

୨୧ hands are full of rings. she trades them out throughout the week to make sure all of them have been worn. she wears a special one you bought for her on her right index finger.

୨୧ she’s very simplistic in her dress. classic masc attire that’s a drawer full of wife-pleasers and hanes tees. when she likes to change it up she wears a vintage band tee or layer with a button up. she prefers sleeveless the most (for cocky reasons of course).

୨୧ she wears her hair down a lot more after you told her she looks pretty when her hair’s unbraided. she mostly wears it down in private with you, but takes her time fixing the braid when going out.

୨୧ when you go to the nail salon, she’s not the hugest fan of getting acrylic nails. “i’ll just wait with you, i’m sorry to disappoint.” abby furrows her brows, face pink with a tinge of guilt. “no no no—baby please get something, it’ll be fun!” she shrugs and opts in and gets a simple coat of yellow polish. “does it look good? you like it?” she asks, holding up her fingers to your face. you nod, smirk filling your face. “they look so pretty against your eyes!” you exclaim, holding your hands in hers.

୨୧ she likes going out with you places, eager to show you off. at parties, the both of you lock eyes and abby waves you over. you smile, coming over and find space to sit on her knee. she points the beer bottle in her hand to you. “have you guys met my gorgeous girlfriend yet?” your face goes warm as she boasts about you to others.

୨୧ she’s skilled at anything technical. from broken microwaves to poorly signaled tv’s, she’s a wiz. she likes sitting down and explaining to you how to fix things when she’s gone. “remember to screw all the plates back properly in place okay?” she points at a silver screw inside the tv server before twirling the screwdriver in the hole. “practice makes perfect.”

୨୧ she likes to do more docile tasks for you too. helping you with dinner drives her wild. she taps you for a knife, lovingly kissing your shoulder as you hand her the one on table, a toothy grin spouting from her lips. she diced onions and garlic on the cutting board, separating them neatly before bringing back to you.

୨୧ abby is a great driver. she’s even done uber a couple times (wasn’t really a fan, but always got good reviews). she’s so gentle with it you’ve fallen asleep in the car more times you can count.

nsfw

୨୧ shes not entirely stone butch, but definitely prefers servicing you. she’ll pat her lap, inviting you on. you abidingly sit, eager in her presence. she reached under your skirt, pressing two fingers to your damp core. “what does my sweet girl want today?” she whispers into your ear, watching her voice send a shiver down your spine. “i wanna ride your thigh, abs.” your voice runs low and shy as she holds you around her by your waist. “that’s cute. show me how bad you want it.”

୨୧ abby loves when your ass is hiked up in the air, lined up just right for her strap. the sight of your face pressed close to a pillow, arched waiting for her brings out something carnal. “you‘ve been waiting for this, ain’t that right? waiting for me to fuck you stupid.” she teases, rubbing the silicone against your slit. you squirm at the touch, grinding your opening into her. she puts a hand to your back, other circling your clit with her thumb. “you can’t stop coming back, can’t you?”

୨୧ she’s obsessed with eating you out. she gets so pussy drunk she lazily stares at you, your orgasm-ridden face barley focusing on her gaze. she could eat you for hours, often stuck between your legs, warmth of your thighs on her cheeks. you find yourself getting so overstimulated, trying to wiggle free from her grasp. she gently pinches her thumbs into your hips. she unlatches, soft lips grossed over in your fluid. her lidded eyes wavered over you with a furrow in her brow. “don’t run from it…fucking in love with this pussy…” she sucks at your clit as you clench with her between your legs, fingers cinched between her blonde strands.

୨୧ she’ll hear you showering, wanting to surprise you by coming in. she quickly sheds her clothes. knocking on the bathroom door. responding with a water-muffled ‘come in!’ she enters, slightly parting the shower curtain. she steps in and examines you for a moment, soapy bubbles sliding down the curves of your body. abby rinses you well, sweet wafts of glycerin coating your skin against her nose. she rubs soap into her hands before groping your breasts. you raise your arms in response, eyes fixed on her thick fingers slipping against the slick of your nipples. “don’t worry, i’ll get’ya clean.” she teases, placing wetted kisses along your back.

୨୧ she doesn’t care if she can’t feel it, your lips pursed on her strap makes her insanely wet. she places a hand on the back of your head, completely fixated on the look of your eyes glossy and hypnotized on the loom of her over you. “what a good girl, just so fucking cute.” she pushes in, watching your throat stretch against the girth of her dick.

[dr-rowby-dot-scramble]

~Javier teaches you how to cook~

You are wandering the camp, clearly looking for someone. You’re wearing an apron, hands gripped together in a useless attempt to seem nonchalant. As your eyes dart from side to side, you somehow miss the long haired Mexican approaching you.

“Hey, Y/N, you alright?” He asks, snapping you out of your trance. You force a smile. “Yeah, I’m alright, but have you seen Pearson? He was supposed to be teaching me how to cook today…” You try not to seem desperate, but the absence of the camp’s cook was making you stressed.

“I think he went into town to get supplies…” He said, his voice softer than usual. “But if you want, Y/N, I could teach you.” Your eyes lit up. “Really?” He nods, walking with you to Pearson’s wagon. He goes to put on one of Pearson’s aprons, but it’s so big on him it makes him look like he’s wearing a dress. He turns to show you, seemingly to make you laugh before changing into one of the smaller ones for the girls.

He grabs a few of the things that were still stocked in the wagon: Half an onion, 3/4th’s of garlic, two carrots, and a rabbit that had been brought in by Arthur a few hours prior. “Let’s grill some rabbit!” He smiles at you, his teeth yellow and short, making him look like a coyote. “Grab me a cutting board, a knife, and a skillet, okay senorita?” You nod, grabbing all those things just for him.

You set down everything, and he begins to cut the garlic, showing you all the tricks of cutting it. He then hands you the onion. You get about halfway before he stops you, grabbing your hand and guiding the knife in a rhythmic pattern. He’s so close to you, you can feel his breath on your neck. But before you know it, you’re done. He then gives you the carrots, and immediately helps you out again. You start to believe he’s not holding your hand this time to help you, but because he wants to be close to you.

You two then hour spend cutting the rabbit and cooking everything on the skillet, admiring your work together. You tell him to go sit in the shady area of the camp, so no one asks if they can have some of your meals. You walk over to him a few minutes later, two bowls in your hands. “Thank you, Y/N.” He smiles.

“No, thank you, Javier. I never could have done it without you.” You both smile at each other for a moment before digging in. After you are both done, you set down the bowls near the wagon before joining him for a post-meal cigarette.

“Javier, I’ve got something to ask you…” You look over at him, nervous about something again. “What is it, Y/N?”

“Why did you go out of your way to want to teach me how to cook? Don’t get me wrong, I’m very grateful, but I just don’t really understand…”

He gently grabs your hand, looking into your eyes. “It’s because… because I like you, Y/N. More than just a friend. I want us to be something more than this… Would… Would you want that, Y/N?”

You nod, and you both kiss. You both taste like garlic and onion, and you wouldn’t change it for the world.

accidentally posting this EXACTLY a month after my last fic lol

[my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction]

heyy <3

I’ve had this idea about a soft!Nathan Bateman fic and I realized you’re just the right person for it.

On tiktok I’ve seen these videos about this pet watching robot called "ebo" (that most couples have been using to annoy each other)

link

maybe the reader isn't at home but Nathan's busy tinkering away in his office and they pester him with the ebo. Or it's one of Nathan's new projects he's testing and the reader just finds it so humorous. Whatever direction you wanna go in🫶🏾

Ahhhh thank you so much for this ask! ❤️ Oh my goodness, I had such a lovely time writing this! ❤️

I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again, I can only write soft Nathan because I’m a big softie and am WEAK for this man.

Ebo

Nathan Bateman X GN!Reader Rating: T Masterlist | ao3 | want to be tagged? | request info

Warnings: Typos! Railroad sentences! Soft!Nathan being a big old lovey dovey softie! Please let me know if I've missed a warning!

Word Count: 983

_______________________________________

“Hey, hey, Nathan, hey,” you purposefully move the ebo into his ankle when he doesn’t look down straight away. “Bateman, hey, hey, hey.”

He tuts and looks down, unimpressed. “Can I help you?” He’s hunched over his desk, sitting at what should be the most uncomfortable angle possible as he types. 

“You haven’t eaten in: six hours.” You put on your very best robot voice. 

“I’ve eaten.”

You tut. “You’re a bad liar.”

“That’s not fair, I’m a great liar.” Nathan picks up the little ebo robot and the live camera feed on your screen goes all wobbly for a second. He carefully puts it on the desk next to him and carries on working. 

You snort and make the robot spin in tight little circles. “You need to eat, you know.” 

Nathan sighs dramatically before looking at you, and you can’t help but laugh at his expression. 

“I never should have got you this, you know.” 

You fake outrage. “What could you possibly mean?

He scowls and then to your absolute amusement pokes his tongue out at you before continuing to type.

A small smile spreads on his face as he hears you laugh through the ebo.

Over your time together he’s grown a lot more playful, far more willing to do silly things just to amuse you, your happiness being the highest award he could get. 

You let him work for a few minutes (and actually do some typing yourself) before you start up again. 

“Nathan Bateman, I have detected an error in your system.” You speak in the over the top robotic voice again, while gently ramming the ebo into his arm. “Your energy levels are: looooow. Please ingest sustenance immediately. Or you will: Power Down.”

He pulls a face at you over the top of his glasses. “I’ll put you in a drawer.” 

“You wouldn’t dare.” 

He pauses for a moment, starting at the little robot before he grabs hold of it. 

“Nathan!” 

There is a split second where you are sure he’s going to follow through and do exactly that, but instead he stands up and walks out of the room, holding the ebo in his hands as if it was a pet. 

He makes sure the camera is facing outwards so that you can see where you’re going as he makes the short journey to the kitchen. 

“I can roll you know,” you say teasingly.

“I don’t trust your driving.” Nathan replies, completely deadpan. 

“What? You don’t trust my driving?” 

“Nope.”

“Well, I don’t trust your driving.”

He scoffs. “I can drive better than you.”

“When was the last time you drove and weren’t driven, Bateman?” 

There is a slight pause, but it’s enough. 

“That’s not the point.” He says at the exact same time you speak: “Ha! See!”

You can hear him laugh, the screen shakes ever so slightly in his hands. 

Once he’s in the kitchen he puts the ebo onto the large countertop. 

“Put me on the floor.” 

He gives you another look over his glasses. “I’m not letting you run into my ankles again.” 

“Meanie.” 

He turns away from you, pretending to look in a cupboard, but you can see his shoulders shake a little as he laughs. 

“How is your work going?” You ask as he chops onion and garlic on the countertop next to you. 

“Hmm, okay, I think I’ve found the main error in the code.” 

It’s a little thing, him cooking. But it means a lot. You know normally he wouldn’t bother, when you’re away his eating habits (and schedule) tend to go out of the window. When you’re there he’s usually the one reminding you to eat. Nathan is surprisingly good at caring for people who aren’t himself. 

You know why he’s cooking now and not later; your time difference means that it will be the middle of the night when he should be eating dinner. He’d rather eat with you than alone.

You chat as he cooks, mainly asking him about his work. You purposefully avoid talking about the conference your attending. Even when Nathan asks, you brush it off with a quick ‘it’s okay’. 

You’ll tell him in detail when you get back. When you can annoy him, lovingly, with kisses in between your sentences. When you don’t have to pretend you can’t see that sad look in his soft brown eyes because you’re not there. 

That’s probably the worst part. The fact that he is trying his best to hide how the distance between you affects him. But it’s still written all over his face. 

He stirs the sauce on the hob, taking a teaspoon from a side drawer and tasting it. He hums for a second before adding a little more salt. 

“Hey, I want a taste.” 

Nathan turns to look at the ebo. You think he’s going to say something sarcastic but instead he gets out a new teaspoon (which makes you laugh) and dips it into the sauce. 

He blows on it, holding his other hand underneath so that it doesn’t drip. Steam floats up in rolling waves and his glasses fog up ever so slightly. Before he brings it over to the ebo. 

He holds it in front carefully and you move forward slowly, pretending to take a bit. 

“Hmmm! Tastes good!”

Nathan laughs. And playfully calls you an idiot. 

When he serves up his food, he moves the ebo from the countertop to the table, you do a double take and are very glad that Nathan can’t see you. 

He’s set a mini place next to him, with a tiny side plate of food. He doesn’t say anything, but you can see him glancing at you from under his eyelashes. 

You make the ebo spin around in a circle before moving closer to your plate and making an exaggerated ‘yum’.

Nathan laughs loudly, it’s the best sound in the world.

____________________________________

Thank you for reading! Want to be tagged?

Taglist: @pleasurebuttonwrites @raven-rk @campingwiththecharmings @alexxavicry @mystinky-butt @cocodiem @oscarisaacsspit @mbakubabe @welcometostayingawakee @melodygatesauthor @romanarose @pimosworld

If you'd like to be taken off the tag list please let me know here

[psalacanthea]

WiP Wednesday

Since I'm working on something I can't share, I just grabbed a random bit from one of my WiPs! From the next chapter of the Hawke and Varric post-canon fic :)

Varric sighed, briefly reaching up his hand to pat her arm before he withdrew.  

Oh, not again.

“All right, what is it this time?”

“Excuse me?”

Naomi squinted an eye, leaning forward in her chair so she could peer at him suspiciously. “What are you brooding about now?  The only way this ridiculous situation works if we’re together, and you know that!  You need to know where I am, and I need to know where you are, so if we’re together everything is solved!”

Still avoiding her stare, Varric sighed and reached for his mug of tea. “I hate that you make honesty the path of least resistance sometimes.  It’s rude.”

Hawke grinned at the fondly annoyed note in his voice.

“I’m doing a lot of big secret shit at the moment, and I didn’t want to bother you with it,” Varric said with an irritated sigh, dropping his mug and staring into it contemplatively. He shook his head, eyes meeting hers in a reluctant sidelong stare.  “I’m meeting up with an old friend from the Inquisition today, late.  It’s…you remember when you asked me about Solas?  The guy who helped you in the fade? Not the spirit, the other one who helped you escape.”

“Mhmm,” she said, glancing down at her breakfast.  The eggs were hard scrambled, which they’d discovered was the only texture she could handle from eggs any more.  Maybe one day it would come back.  She missed oozy eggs with her smoked herring.

Varric's voice was dripping with exhausted, sharp exasperation. “So it turns out he’s an Elven god!  And ah, he’s probably still trying to end the world.  Or at least end our world, which is something I’d like to prevent.  Naomi, are you listening?”

“You remembered my pickled onions.  Thank you,” she said with a smile, nose crinkling.  

“I told Orana, don’t give me too much credit.  Were you listening to me?”

There he went again, brushing off her thanks.  What a bad habit.  Why did he think she’d be shocked by this, though? Did he forget that they'd killed a demon Merrill had said was one of their gods, too?

“Yeah, okay, evil Elven god.  Is that even a surprise with all the shit we’ve been through?  Which one is he?  I only know what Merrill’s told me.”

“Ah, the Dread Wolf.  Fen’harel.”

“The one–”

“Merrill always swears about, yeah.  But the thing is, I don’t so much want to kill him as I do stop him.  I’d like the chance to talk him down before everything goes to shit, at least.  I’d like a chance to stop something bad from happening for once.”

Surprised, she leaned back a little from him. Despite his warning, she still felt a bit of prickly anger thinking about all the shit he'd been through with those fanatics.  “I didn’t think you were close with any of the people from that Chantry debacle.  You and Dorian didn’t seem to like each other very much.”

He laughed sarcastically. “Dorian and I were fighting because of you.  He was going nuts over the idea of studying you, figuring out what being in the Fade had done to you.  And I wasn’t…feeling reasonable.  All I wanted was to get you home.  Dorian and I are fine.  Fights happen.”

“I want to be there.  Will you let me in?”

“Are you going to give up on your grudge with the Inquisition?”

Well, that was a big ask!  “No, but I’ll hold my fucking tongue at least, Varric.  Maker’s balls, I know how to keep my cards close to my chest.  I understand wanting to save a friend!  Don’t I?”

“Usually if someone tells someone else they’re trying to convince a god not to destroy the world, there’s a bit more skepticism.”

“At this point?” she asked him dubiously, picking up a thick slice of bread. It was a little bit bizarre he thought she'd be freaked out by this. She'd been trapped in the fade!

A hand lifted in defeat, Varric's voice lowering to a mutter. “I get what you’re saying.  I just keep hoping that one of these days I’ll see any self-preservation from you at all.”

“Not when it comes to you,” she said with a winning smile.

“Fine, you can come.  Just don’t threaten anyone.”

“Some people need to be threatened."

[solarmorrigan]

Unfortunately I have neither the time nor the energy to write a full fic for the proposed 80s vampire movie Steddie AU, but here are a few more thoughts I had on it:

Steve and Eddie are a terrible vampire hunting duo

Steve hits hard and has great aim (never misses the heart!), but he has the self-preservation instincts of a dead fish and will throw himself at the vampires if he thinks someone is in danger. Also cannot remember vampire lore to literally save his life

(“Onions! Right? We can ward them off with onions because vampires are allergic or some shit, aren’t they?”

“Garlic, Steve. You ward vampires off with fucking garlic.”)

Eddie knows at least some things about vampires and is great at improvising weapons, but is also 0% sold on destroying the nest and would prefer to just keep away from the whole thing if he could

(They can’t, though. Apparently, Steve and Eddie can’t be allowed to live, since the vampires know that they know. Also they might be kinda pissed about the one Steve and Eddie killed at the video store)

Eventually they hit up against the limits of Eddie’s vampire knowledge and Steve reluctantly suggests they ask his kids

“Your kids?” Eddie asks, brows raised

“The little shits I babysit. They’re a bunch of nerds, like you; one of ‘em is bound to know something.” Something about the way Steve says this sounds so fond that Eddie almost feels like he should be saying thank you for the comparison

They do try to keep the kids in the dark (“Hypothetically, let’s say we’re hunting some vampires” – Eddie wants to bang his head on Dustin Henderson’s kitchen table; Steve is about as subtle as a brick to the face), but they catch on pretty quick and insist on helping

Steve and Eddie try to relegate them to offering backup via walkie-talkie, but this goes out the window pretty fast once Head Vampire Whoever decides he’s gonna spirit Steve away to his evil vampire lair and turn him

Because of-fucking-course Steve ends up being the damsel in distress (and, like, Eddie can’t fault Head Vampire Douchebag his taste; it would be entirely cliché to go and fall in love with someone right now, but if he was going to do that, he would also pick Steve)

(It’s a good thing Eddie doesn’t go in for clichés, though. Definitely not)

This is how Eddie ends up leading a squad of preteen vampire hunters—or being led by a squad of preteen vampire hunters, more like; he understands perfectly now how Steve got swept up by them—to storm the nest, destroy Head Vampire Dickhead, and reclaim Steve

Which they do, of course, in a shower of bloody violence that probably involves makeshift explosives suggested by Lucas, Max driving a car through the front of the lair, and Eddie acting as a distraction long enough for Steve to behead the final vampire

And then they kiss, because Eddie is maybe a little cliché after all. Besides, how many damsels in distress can behead something in one swing? Not very many. It’s pretty hot, frankly, and how is Eddie supposed to resist that? He’s only human

(Probably? Like, Head Vampire Whatshisnuts had gotten his teeth on Eddie just a tiny bit before Steve swooped in, but it’s... probably fine. Yeah, it’s probably fine)

[teruthecreator]

for the character ask meme i feel you have enough of a history with this man for me to request, if you would like: lancaster?

RUBS MY HANDS TOGETHER HOOOOOOOO BOY

Sexuality Headcanon:

gay (i think this is canon?)

Gender Headcanon:

man we dont got time to think about this because of the Everything but i think he could rock some he/she swag in another life

A ship I have with said character:

HARLAAAAAAAAAAAAAANC OH MY GOD THEY MAKE ME INSANE. THEIR DIVORCE NOT-DIVORCE IS GOING TO DRIVE ME UP A WALL. literally like just their canon dynamic makes me insane like. not to get too into spoilers bc theres friends who arent caught up but just like the Everything going on between them post -3 incident is like. GOD. the ep where they actually talk some of it out had me literally cheering and clapping around my house like i was watching a football game. literally they are so IGOR coded it PAINS ME. YOU GOTTA LISTEN TO IGOR MAN SO YOU CAN SEE MY VISION BUT THE VISIONS THERE THE IGORISMS ARE THERE AND THEY KILL ME. i will literally push all my wips aside to write the one bed fic i swear to fucking god

A BROTP I have with said character:

LANCASTER AND LOVE MAKE ME A LITTLE CRAZY OKAY. JUST. OHHHHHHHHHHHHH OHHHH THEIR BOND. the fact that they start so opposite and love not really wanting to trust him or talk to him to like. TO LIKE HER ACTIVELY SEEKING HIM OUT AND MISSING HIM AND WANTING TO SPEND TIME WITH HIM. IT JUST MAKES ME DIE MAN IT MAKES ME WANNA DIE. the dnd ep really gets me bc she trusts him so much, even when he did That, and it really goes to show how much her opinion on him has changed. the fact that she’s the only one to humanize him in the beginning of his -3 imprisonment is everything to me THEY MEAN EVERYTHING TO ME YOUR OFFICER

A NOTP I have with said character:

i have yet to peek into the fandom for this podcast but if i see a single person shipping lanc w d-1 i will start throwing tables at heads

A random headcanon:

okay so i’ve been thinking A LOT about what lancaster’s favorite redbull flavor would be. because there are a lot of fucking flavors of redbull and he isn’t just drinking the regular redbull bc Why Would You Do That so like. i’ve had to use my EXTENSIVE knowledge of redbull flavors—as a redbull connoisseur myself—to decide what flavor screams Orion Lancaster Findusalive. and i THINK i have the results of my findings. i think his absolute FAVORITE would be peach-nectarine because it’s really sweet (like INSANELY SWEET) and heavy on the peach flavoring to the point that i don’t even think the nectarine is in there. and idk he just seems like a peach guy to me. i think second favorite is probably watermelon bc it is objectively The Best redbull flavor on the market and he would be a fucking fool not to like it. and then third favorite would probably be something like blueberry or juneberry (the two are almost identical in flavor to me). those are my findings as the certified Redbull Guy

General Opinion over said character:

he makes me want to EAT DRYWALL. GODDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDD i genuinely dont think theres anything else i can say other than that. there are so many layers to him and so much going on i knew from the MOMENT i started that he would be a character that stuck out to me. and the more i hear from him the more i am certain of this. this is a certified ollieguy to me but make no mistake he is also a michguy. not as much as klein but close!!!! very close. my little onion <3

[cinderella-ish]

Fic Recs: The Cat's House

Kyo Goes to the Cat's House

Building Zero Thirteen, by hillnerd G | Tohru/Kyo | WIP | Drama & Romance Tohru has a new job at the Sohma estate- she finds herself given new duties bringing food to a mysterious figure on the estate- all she knows about them is they don't speak to her and don't seem to enjoy leeks or onion.

Burnished and Broken, by AnxietyAvocado T | Tohru/Kyo | WIP | Angst & Hurt/Comfort Akito got her endless banquet, but her Zodiac is no longer hers in heart and mind. Yuki is back at Akito's side, and he knows he needs to do whatever he can to help Kyo through his confinement. Tohru is living on her own, but with the Sohmas-- especially Kyo-- missing from her life, she feels adrift. Their stories converge once more as the younger Sohmas work to free Kyo and find a way to create their own happy endings, including bringing Tohru back into their lives.

Caged, by nafragous G | Tohru/Kyo, Kyo & Yuki | Short Story | angst After all this time, Kyo Sohma could never defeat the rat. Now, he has to be caged for the rest of eternity.

Hold On, by Danyu T | Tohru/Kyo | Novella | angst, drama, & romance Kyou has accepted his fate as the cat. Relationships change and the bond between he and Tohru is cemented forever. But he leaves something behind, something precious enough to give everyone the strength to hold on.

Left Wanting, by Shewrites13 T | Tohru/Kyo | WIP | drama, hurt/comfort & romance Tohru Honda is newly graduated but not sure what she wants to do in life. She gets a job working for the infamous Sohma family as a maid, but when Tohru unexpectedly gets reassigned to a member of the Inner Family, she accidentally uncovers the very dark secret the Inner Family has been hiding from the world.

Locked Up but Not Locked Away, by RoseWolf133198 T | Tohru/Kyo | Novella | Hurt/Comfort & Romance After the Somha Family curse takes on a different form, Kyo’s released from his cage due to mysterious circumstances. Once back at home,will the orange cat of the zodiac be up for a sweet reunion with his riceball.

The Ones Who Walk Away From Sohma House, by Geoduck G | Gen - next gen Zodiac & Akito, Kyo, Kazuma, & Tohru | Short Story | angst Most say there must always be a monster. But there are a few who refuse to accept that.

The Way Back, by 8_characters_or_less T | Tohru/Kyo | Novel | angst, drama, hurt/comfort, & romance After three years locked away in the Cat's Room the curse has finally broken. But three years is a long time and the damage that's been done won't easily be repaired. If there's anything worth fighting for, it's love. Only time will tell if that will be enough.

You were never mine, by Itsalreadyhalloweenright T | Tohru/Kyo, Tohru/Momiji | Short Story | angst & tragedy They did their best to keep living. Tohru with Momiji. Kyo locked in the cat's cage. And they fight to live. At least until Tohru's diagnosed with a deadly disease. At which point she just....gives up and dies. Kyo, upon finding out, follows not long after, unable to live in a world without her in it.

Other

Escaping the future, by Modzy78 T | Tohru/Kyo | Novel | angst, drama & fluff It's time to graduate, and Kyo's still cursed. Tohru doesn't want Kyo to be confined. How far is she willing to go to save him from his future?

If You Love Me, Don't Let Go, by Cutthroatkitty T | Tohru/Kyo | WIP | angst AU where Kyo and Tohru confess to each other but the curse doesn’t break. Akito doesn’t set the zodiac free and still intends to lock Kyo up after graduation. Tohru won’t let him go without a fight.

Memories of the Cat, by Modzy78 T | Tohru/Kyo | WIP | drama & hurt/comfort Kyo wants to distance himself from being the Cat. But he has one thing to deal with first.

The Pursuit of Repeating History, by RiddleAfar E | Kyo/Yuki | angst, drama, romance & smut In their third and final year of high school, Yuki and Kyo learn the hard way where their zodiac spirits end and they begin. *technically unfinished, but reaches a satisfying end and only has 1 chapter left (I think an epilogue?)

Same Thing, by me T | Gen - Kyo (background Tohru/Kyo pre-relationship) | Flash Fiction | angst As Kyo watches his senpai graduate, he reflects on the upcoming year; the last year of his life outside of the cage.

Here are links to my bookmarks tagged with Confinement, my bookmarks tagged with Imprisonment, and I will eventually add my own tag for these fics and link here as well!

Fic Recs Masterpost

[haystarlight]

Willow for the ask game

one aspect about them i love: Oh, I love everything about her. Her voice is so nice and her design is so pretty and her personality is so cool. She's just gotten better with time! S3 Willow is so amazing! No shade to S1 Willow, tho.

one aspect i wish more people understood about them: I think people like to reduce her to just 1 thing and fail to see the entirety of Willow in all of her glory.

She's not just a super strong girlboss, she can be vunerable too! She's not just the responsible mom friend, she can be silly and chaotic as well! She's not always the confident flirty girl, sometimes Hunter makes her nervous!

She's an onion! She has layers!

one (or more) headcanon(s) i have about this character: She takes pictures of strangers on the street because her inner artist photographer can't help herself. She's like Lilo in Lilo & Stitch.

Also, I have a whole ass fic on Dyslexic Willow already.

one character i love seeing them interact with: Take a wild fucking guess.

Hunter, obviously. That's my main ship! They're so cute! They're in love!! Huntlow!!

Also, Luz & Gus. Those are her best friends! They're the original Hexsquad!! Season 1 was such a blast whenever they hung out and I miss it.

one character i wish they would interact with/interact with more: Weirdly? Raine. I feel like they'd get along swimmingly, they could get into so much trouble together. The Clawthorne in-laws being chaotic. They honestly give off the same vibe, which is why I love them both.

Also, Vee because I feel like they became real good friends offscreen during the time skip.

And her dads. She loves them so much and we don't get to see enough of it.

one (or more) headcanon(s) i have that involve them and one other character: While in the Human Realm, Gus and Willow get really into skateboarding and end up learning how to do the most difficult stunts and tricks. Hunter's standing there like: "That's my girlfriend and my best friend, suckers!!"

She's the first one to say "I love you" to Hunter. It goes pretty much like this.

[thecollectionsof]

Your turn!! Give me a little life update if you want or just share a fun fact or a random thought you have :)

lina lina lina !!!! okay my life update:

writing wise, i just finished the second (actually the fourth but whose counting) draft of postcards chapter one !!!! at this rate this whole fic will be chapter one but i keep having ideas on how to make it a bit better so this is where we’re at

but aside from writing, it was vet day for onion and miss mina the other day!! everyone had fun at the vet (lying) (not true) and of course i have a picture

the first one is both kitties hanging out where the trash can goes (mina jumped into the trash can, which was fun to get her out of) and the second one is both of them huddling in one carrier to hide from the Big Scary Vet (he was actually a really nice guy)

anyway thanks for the uno reverse ily !!!!!!!!

[raksh-writes]

It’s been embarassingly long, but Im trying to catch up on what I’ve misses in the tumblr life, so here goes ^^” Tagged by the lovely @fleet-off and @theflowergirl thank youu <3

Three Ships:

VegasPete (KinnPorsche The Series), Voiles aka Nogitsune/Stiles Stilinski (Teen Wolf), aaaaaand hell, I have no idea, those two are my absolute fave obsession rn and I like all the others about the same 😂 let’s say Violate, as in Violet/Tate from American Horror Story: Murder House, because I have I huge soft spot for them and the first ship fic I wrote was for them too ^^

First Ever Ship:

Again, Violate is probably the first I Actively read and engaged with while understanding what’ shipping is and all. BUT I do remember reading Legolas/Aragorn fics waaaaaay back, dunno how long ago exactly, but Ive watched LotR for the first time at like 9 or something, and it’s been a huge part of my life, so yeah, that’s probably the first I came across and somewhat got into without actually knowing what Im doing or what it is Im reading 😂 

Last Song: 

Claude - Ladada (Mes Derniers Mots) --> Heard it on the radio yesterday and immediately loved it, now it’s going on repeat, lmao.

Last Movie:

Probably Glass Onion, it’s been a few months (ooof, don’t judge me, it’s Hard to find the capacity to focus on something new these days ;/), but it was very entertaining ^^ maybe not As good as Knives Out, but just as fun and I loved the twist in the middle and the second part was Amazing!

Currently Watching:

Well... I got stuck on The Last of Us after ep. 6 and haven’t yet watched the rest, but I haven’t really started anything else, so I guess TloU? Hopefully one day I’ll get back to it and finish the season 😅

Currently Reading:

Ugh... This is embarassing, huh? It’s really just fanfics these days (ooof). Been stuck for the past month in reading anything Sasuke Uchiha-centric I could find that tickled me in a very particular way, like family and/or time travel angst, and now Im inching back into VegasPete fics, but other than that, yeah, not much really... (I Am thinking of buying a particular pair of queer vampire romances books Ive been eyeing recently, even tho shipping from US is gonna be freakishly expensive probably, but well... I know the books are gonna be a great read and if Im to actually get myself to pick up a Proper book again, I might just make myself a birthday present or something, who knows.)

Currently Consuming:

Nothing rn, but I did just eat a very nice tomato souce spaghetti for dinner ^^ (That I Somehow got myself to make after realizing that I gotta cook while already Very hungry and upset, but hey! It came out super nice so Im def in a better mood rn ^^)

Currently Craving:

Fromage flavoured Lays chips. Which is probably super basic and also very unhealthy, I know, but oh well, gotta have some vices or smth. At least I didn’t buy any, lmoa.

No-pressure tagging some lovely mutuals and peeps I’d love to know better: @flowers-for-stiles @dual-desires @msmischief101 @roxannes-love-letters @plushrumpasaurus @livingbythewords @iced-ginger-tea also anyone who’d like to do it, please feel tagged as well! ^^

[thermoskind]

tag 9 people you want to get to know better!

kindly tagged by @ourflagmeansgayrights

three ships: of all time? that's tough!

wrightworth (ace attorney) - the lawyer husbands got me early and got me good. like phoenix was on some elle woods shit running off to law school to chase his ~childhood friend~ only it actually worked for him. i doubt capcom will do more than hint at how married they are, but i'll eat up every crumb they give me.

bubbline (adventure time) - what 'what was missing' aired and marceline sings about wanting to mend the rift between her and bubblegum? and then it's revealed that bubblegum wears a band shirt marceline gave her as pajamas?? this changed my brain chemistry and i still have that shirt lol.

gentlebeard (our flag means death) - the gay pirates have devoured my brain, i went in blind and caught up after episode 8, and i lost an entire night of sleep with the chain on repeat in my head. this character dynamic is such a targeted attack against me.

(honourable mentions to rosemary (homestuck) and jonmartin (the magnus archives) it was so hard to choose three ships and i'm so fond of these ones too)

first ever ship:

zelink (legend of zelda: ocarina of time) - lol idk 10 year old me thought they were cute and they're the reason i first ventured out into fanfiction.net and read a lot of script-style fics where all the characters lived together at hyrule castle and the author argued with them in the notes.

last song:

*deeply sighs* smooth flow by neil cicierega - look, i am a clown, and i wanted to listen to clown music and rotate my blorbos in my head at the same time on my way home from work, so yeah, the last song i listened to was a santana/enya mashup that i dream of someday using in an ofmd edit once we have more seasons.

last film:

glass onion - really enjoyed it, i've had a crush on janelle monae for more than a decade and i had no idea she'd be the blanc girl in this movie, what a pleasant surprise.

currently reading:

calvin and hobbs anthologies - my dad left a few at my place last time he was over. reading a few pages each morning while i eat breakfast has been really lovely.

currently watching:

the owl house - episode 2 of season 3 just came out, but i have to wait until my sister's over to watch it. SOON!

currently consuming:

jalepeño & cheddar doritos - i've got my snacking chopsticks and everything,

currently craving:

season 2 of our flag means death - i'll take any crumb, blease just gimme something!

tagging:

i'm very bad at this and don't want to be a bother, but i thought this was fun so here goes: @xoxoemynn , @asneakyfox, @roseinmyhand, @givefangapuppy, @blackbeardsemophase, @effervescentluminescence, @totallyboatless, @douwatahima, and @thebadgersknackers . no pressure of course.

[patrywoso]

Hey lovely girl, I’m sorry that you’re still working today, and three more hours! Good luck girl!

I’m probably not gonna catch a cold or fall sick, my body only picks bad times to be sick and it isn’t really a bad time rn. Funny story, since I started following your writing, I’ve been coincidentally sick every time you drop a fic. If that ewa pajor fic comes out in the next two days I might just fall ill.

Ooh paella, I’ve only eaten it once in my life (crime I know). If I ever visit Spain I’ll be sure to try it again! I don’t think I’ve eaten tortilla de patatas sorry. I’m not very adventurous in my eating. I don’t really have a favourite meal, as a student my diet is usually whatever the school serves or what my crappy kitchen skills manage to make. If I had to pick food to live on maybe bread oats and rice. I eat a lot of bread, like as a snack and a meal so that would be the most likely one. Usually I put some jam inside then experiment with cutting the bread into different shapes. As a kid my mom would ask me how I wanted it sliced and I would come up with the most ridiculous shape. Once I asked for a cat and she actually had a cat cookie cutter she used to cut the bread. I miss having my parents make me actually good food, now that I’m on my own and relying on my own skills I realise that I am not built to be a housewife (unless a pretty girl needs one in that case I can always learn)

What sports did you play growing up/ currently darling? I swear I read somewhere that you played basketball but maybe I’m hallucinating. Also I just realised you said three more hours of work left to go??? Why are you working so late in the evening on a weekend? Is work just being an ass again? Hope tomorrow goes better darling, less work more rest more time to yourself. Love you, goodluck for the next few hours, xoxo

Hey sweetheart, thank you for the good luck wishes, i’ll need them because work has been a nightmare lately. But hey, once this is done, it’s one less thing on my plate.

And about your cooking, if you ever need a break from experimenting in the kitchen, come over to mine, and let me take care of you. I’m a really good cook, and I’d gladly whip up a tortilla de patatas for you. It’s super simple, just potatoes, onion, and eggs. You’d love it, trust me.

As for basketball, you’re absolutely right, I used to play growing up and even went pro for two years. Unfortunately, a car accident ended that chapter of my life, but I’m grateful for all the memories it gave me. Now, it’s all about work, which, as you guessed, is absolutely insane right now. I have so much to do in so little time, and with all the traveling coming up, I’m barely keeping up. It’s exhausting, but I’ll get through it somehow.

Also, I love that you tell me stories about yourself, they’re the highlight of my days lately. Your bread-cutting adventures are adorable, and I think it’s sweet how creative you’ve always been, even with food. If it makes you feel better, no one’s born a housewife, but you’re such a thoughtful person that I think you’d be amazing at anything you set your mind to (especially for a pretty girl who deserves it).

I hope you don’t fall sick with this next fic drop because I’d feel terribly responsible and it's coming out tomorrow most likely.

Take care of yourself, darling, and remember I’m rooting for you always. Love you.

[nerdsandthelike]

It’s happening! Go check out some of the awesome stuff that people are creating!

Do you want a cool fic in your fandom? Do you want some art? Need a beta reader? Really wanna hear something as a podfic? All it takes is $5USD to make it happen! And the money goes to a great cause! It’s a win for everybody!

I’m offering to help out with a fic you’re writing in basically whatever way you need (Plot! Characterization! Research! “did I write this ace character okay?” “what is getting a PhD actually like?” “does this sentence make sense?”) and also to write a short fic for The Old Guard, the Knives Out/Glass Onion series, or Miss Fisher’s Murder Mysteries! If any of that seems up your alley, you can find more information or bid on my stuff here https://fth2023offerings.dreamwidth.org/tag/username:+nerdsandthelike!

And if you want to see what else is out there, you can browse by tags for fandom, type of work, people really excited to work on femslash, and a bunch of other things right here https://fth2023offerings.dreamwidth.org/tag/!

BIDDING IS OPEN!

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YOU CAN GO BID ON FTH 2023 AUCTIONS!!

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Good luck!

[ashinan]

so this is all @butteredonions fault because, okay, listen. LISTEN. I saw the art by @cherryandsisters that had Poe Dameron and Keith back to back and I kind of. died. a bit. because it was perfect. and then while talking to the darling Miss Onions, she said ‘what if?’ and now I’m here. this isn’t going to be the only fic I write in this sudden verse. I’m so mad at myself. but also screaming. anyway. here. have the voltron/star wars crossover that spawned overnight.

familiarity in misalignment

The stars were stunning here. D’Qar didn’t have such an unfettered view of the stars, and when Poe was in his X-wing, everything blurred by in a swirl of light and dark. Here, on the observation deck of a ship in another reality, it was - nice. Quiet. Different from the nightmares that pricked his memories full of holes.

Tucking the blanket under his thighs, Poe dropped his elbows on his knees. The constellations were just off, enough of a tick to the left to give Poe a headache. But compared to his hell of a night, it was soothing. Familiarity in misalignment. Poe snorted. Well, he hadn’t expected the nightmares to just leave him be because more exciting things were afoot. 

Yawning, Poe tucked his chin into his palm and smacked his lips. The stars blurred. The dark between reached like fingers, curled and vicious and digging - jerking his head up, Poe exhaled. Stars. Coping. Well.

The door behind him hissed. Poe frowned, twisting before the observation screen. Ah. One of their hosts. During dinner (which had been some of the strangest food he’d ever eaten, though Rey and Finn had been pleased as punch), Shiro had asked pointed and bafflingly specific questions about the lightspeed tech they had aboard their ships. He’d delved into the mechanics of it with Rey and the physics of it with Poe. Every inch the leader. Prodding for answers, uncertainty in the tense line of his jaw and the narrowed pinch of his eyes. Always on the defense.

Now, in the delicate light of the observation deck and with a blanket wrapped around his shoulders, Shiro reminded Poe surprisingly of Finn.

“You’re up late,” Poe said. Shiro blinked, head snapping up in surprise. His shock quickly melted into a blank smile, fingers clenched in the blanket. Poe frowned.

Shiro cleared his throat, his tone stiff and formal. “I didn’t realize anyone else would be up. Are the rooms not to your liking?”

“They’re fine, kid. It’s not often I get such an amazing view of the stars, is all.” Poe gestured. “Come on in, pull up some floor. Do you know the constellations here?”

Shiro hesitated. The sweats he wore were too long, nearly covering his toes. His sleep shirt was too small. The metal fingers of his right hand twisted heavily in the blanket he’d wrapped protectively around his shoulders. Poe raised a brow. Shiro’s jaw shifted. He stepped inside and the door slid shut behind him, cutting off the light from the hall and bathing everything in a soft blue glow. Poe wiggled to the side, patting the floor beside him, and Shiro tentatively folded down beside him.

“So, constellations? You know ‘em?”

Shiro shook his head, adjusting the blanket around his knees. “Not in this quadrant. I knew the ones before, though. What are the stars like in your reality?”

“Slightly different.” Poe cradled his cheek in his palm, gaze bouncing over Shiro’s haggard expression. Circles under his eyes, sallow skin, hollow cheeks. Poe clicked his tongue against the back of his teeth. “You don’t look so hot.”

Scrubbing at his nose, at his scar, Shiro tilted his chin down. The stars caught on the metal of his wrist. “I’m fine.”

Poe snorted. “Mhm. I know a nightmare face when I see one, kid. Nighttime can be a load of bantha shit if you let it. This your coping mechanism?”

Blinking, Shiro furrowed his brow. He remained quiet. Watching. Weighing options. Poe waited, tapping a finger against his cheek, holding Shiro’s gaze. For a moment, he dropped the facade of a carefree and battle hungry pilot, allowed Shiro a peek behind the curtain.

Circles under his eyes courtesy of Kylo Ren and his fucking control issues.

A tick in his jaw he couldn’t quite contain.

Rippling shivers in the fine bones of his wrists, burned into his bones from the manacles he would never be free of.

A moment. An understanding. Shiro’s mouth dropped open. Poe quirked a brow. “Now you’re getting there.”

Swallowing, Shiro clicked his teeth together. Exhaled. Tucked himself deeper into the blanket. “How long have you had them?”

“The current ones I’ve only had for a few months.” Poe glanced out the window at a lazy comet spiralling between starlight. “The others are oldies but goodies from my glory days before the Resistance. Different horrors thrown together to make sleeping a right dick.”

Quiet stretched between them, as delicate as the spidersilk light of a fading star. Poe bounced his gaze from constellation to constellation, never straying into the darkness between, remaining stubbornly within the light. His thoughts were sharp but his body was fuzzy. The nightmares lurked, petulant.

“I’m -” Shiro started, stopped, started again, “I don’t remember the dreams. Just the feelings. Sometimes I catch glimpses but it’s just smears of colour. The feelings though. Those hurt.”

Stars, this was a mess. Falling into this reality had been disorienting, but war was the same across the board: a bundle of exhaustion and fear, of close calls and near misses, of not so lucky moments and screaming grief. The kid was young. Scarred in a way Poe couldn’t quite comprehend, more than the horror carved into his skin. Unfair, that. War was unfair. How it had hooked its claws into Shiro was even more so.

Sighing, Poe scrubbed his hands through his hair. “What helps?”

“Not talking about it,” Shiro said, quirking a smile when Poe laughed.

“See, I keep trying that and it does squat. Let’s try one of mine instead.” Straightening his spine, Poe lifted a hand and tilted his palm, spreading his fingers wide until each fingertip touched a star. “We don’t know the constellations here, but we can play around with that. Come up with some fancy names for stars we see and claim them as our own.”

Shiro laughed, a gut punch sound that rattled wrong. Poe nudged their shoulders together. “Come on, kid. If I’m doing your coping mechanism, it’s only fair you do mine.”

“What’s the hand thing?” Shiro asked, mimicking the wide spread of Poe’s fingers. His eyes narrowed and he adjusted the angle. Most pilots got it on the first try. Poe hid a smile. Finn never understood this exercise, but every single pilot Poe had coached had picked it up damn near immediately. Shiro was no exception.  

Tilting his head, Poe explained, “Helps you pick your stars. Each fingertip represents the beginning of a different constellation. Let’s see if we can’t come up with something to wow the others, huh?”

They spent the next hour or so locating and mapping the stars with their fingers. Shiro’s posture relaxed the further into the game they got, until a proper laugh escaped him when Poe explained exactly what an Ewok was and why the constellation beginning on his middle finger was the spitting image of one. The tense line of Shiro’s jaw eased; his shoulders dropped and his gaze went bright with mischief and excitement. A proper response to a game. The kid deserved a bit of nonsense considering the position he was in. A single night where the nightmares were secondary to a bit of silly fun.

By the time the lights started to mimic dawn in the observation deck, Shiro had laughed himself hoarse and tired, snickering as Poe recounted the story of Luke Skywalker and the Tauntaun. Poe picked out a last constellation, quietly naming it Bey before dropping his hands into his lap. The last prickles of darkness at the edge of his thoughts drifted away into starlight. Shiro exhaled shakily. Poe waited.

“Thanks for this,” Shiro whispered.

Poe shrugged. “Honestly, it helped me too. Talking is great and all, but sometimes just chasing the nightmares away with the light is more satisfying.” Poe quirked his lips. “Also, Finn doesn’t get it. He always ends up calling me a cheater.”

Shiro laughed, proper and worn. “How do you cheat at star naming?”

“That’s what I said!”

The lights grew brighter. Shiro broke their conversation with a truly incredible yawn. Poe pushed to his feet, groaning at the pop of his hip and the numb tingle of his thighs. Shiro followed him up, yawning again, blanket hunched up around his ears. They burned most of the night away playing chase with the stars. Hopefully, that was enough.

Poe clapped a hand to Shiro’s shoulder. Shiro blinked blearily at him. “Get some sleep, kid. I’ll keep everyone in line until you can join us again.”

“I’m okay.”

“Nope, none of that, we’re not doing that again.” Even though Shiro was taller, Poe marched Shiro to the door and nudged him back toward the Paladin quarters. “I didn’t share a top secret coping mechanism only to have you pass out in your breakfast. Now, go.”

Cracking a smile, Shiro staggered his way down the hall, yawning wide again as he disappeared around a corner. Stifling his own yawn, Poe picked his way back to the guest quarters, to where Rey would be fighting with Finn over the covers and the both of them would quietly ask if Poe wanted to talk. Strange new reality, strange constellations, but same concepts.

The lights rose in a mimicry of a sunrise.