#drunk!fic

[peppersandcats]

16, 26

For the 40 questions for shippers meme:

16. Talk about a ship you initially disliked.

This is funny, because the fics with it were the first thing I ran across while looking for Captain Cold stuff (I wasn’t expecting the early 2016 hiatus and I was craving something), so functionally it is also the ship that introduced me to fandom: ColdFlash.

Look, I just… it’s Barry. Barry is the thing that clicked with me about the Flash; I described the first episode as “like Spider-Man, but he has a job that actually helps people and no-one needed to die for him to figure out that using his powers to help people was a good idea.” Barry was a sweet kid that was an utter puppy and was still figuring it all out in a story about Science Heroes! and Doing Good! 

Barry is in many ways a clean-cut good-guy character embodying the golden age of science fiction and in the immortal words of Peter Graham, the golden age of science fiction is twelve.

I mean, he is an adult. Even with the lost nine months he is clearly an adult, no dispute. But he’s such a goofy kid, still all starry-eyed over his literal grade-school crush. (For the love, the first thing Len says when he gets a good look at him is “I didn’t see it before. Your mom know you’re out past your bedtime?”) Imagining him with anyone was weird to me.

((So I’m sitting there reading fics and cracking up at dialogue and loving set-up and description and plot, because good god there are some amazing writers doing ColdFlash, and mostly just skim-reading or skipping all the sexy bits.))

The dislike’s pretty much mellowed; I think it helped a lot that there’s a sense of Barry maturing as a character in the show, and I got more comfortable with seeing him as an adult.

26. Have you noticed a pattern in your shipping? Is there a romantic dynamic you’re more drawn to?

Bitchy/snarky characters from The Flash who don’t get a lot of screentime and may never have interacted. (Seriously. I wrote a fic for Axel Walker and Lisa Snart, and if they have ninety minutes of screen time between them I will be shocked.) Len’s a bit of an outlier in that he was actually a core cast character on a DC TV show with Legends, and before that I still had a season and a half of thinking of him as this once-every-six-episodes guy.

What else? Criminal characters, certainly–all my ships are Rogues, although I do have ideas for a couple with Caitlin on the back-burner. Characters with broken family relationships–not necessarily outright rejection (burn the Rathaways), but ones where I read their family bonds as atypical and possibly damaging.

For the dynamic… hmh. I seem to like the idea of one of the characters being out of their depth, whether or not they realize it, whether or not others realize it. Also some preference for drunk!fics (which is not always a character seeking deniability, but I’d be lying if I said that was never a consideration for them), miscommunication, and domesticity.

[everlarkficquestions]

Katniss taking care of a drunk Peeta? Or Peeta taking care of drunk katniss

Here are a few kind of like that:

A Quarter Quell - titaniasfics 

Roads - Anne-Bellee

Just When You Think It Can’t Get Any Worse - ijustwritehungergames 

Friends and Allies - SassyEverlarking

Making It Through - Diaphenia

A Marriage Made in Panem - MTK4FUN

Always a Blessing - IzzySamson

If anyone can think of any others, please let us know!

[everlarkficquestions]

do you know of any fics where they're not together and one is drunk (preferably katniss but either is fine) and gets a little flirty? Thank you!!

There are a few HERE where Katniss gets drunk, and HERE are a few where Peeta gets drunk, though I can’t think of any that quite fit what you’re looking for. If anyone else knows of any others, please send us a message!

[capriciouswrites]

Drunk fic! If you finished Daredevil (I can't remember lol oops) then Matt/Claire + first real date. If not, Kate Bishop + cooking attempt in Clint's apartment. (Or both in one? lolz)

I didn’t, actually, finish it. Though I still intend to. (I’m so bad at keeping up to date on shows. Like, almost entertainingly bad.) I’m doing the second and this is in an AU movie ‘verse because I said so. Clint!centric

“Is that supposed to be on fire?” is the first thing Natasha signs when she walks through the door.

Clint blinks slowly, his coffee hasn’t kicked in yet despite the fact that it’s six in the evening, and turns his head to see flame coming from his stove. He suspects it’s probably making some noise, but since his last run in with a series of bombs killed his hearing aids he can’t even hear a hint of it. At some point he’s going to want to talk to Tony about making new ones – he’d thought the SHIELD ones were small, but Tony’s had been basically a sticker. Damned impressive. Even if Pietro had managed to rip one off as he ran by one of those times. Little bastard.

Natasha ruffles his hair as she goes back. Which is – if he doesn’t trust Kate at a stove (and apparently he shouldn’t) he definitely doesn’t trust Natasha cooking for them.

Which isn’t to say she’s bad at it – he’s not entirely sure, she’s probably amazing at it because he can count on one hand with fingers left over the number of things Natasha isn’t amazing at (points to paranoid cold war planning, he guesses) but because she might put hot sauce in a donut or something just for entertainment value.

It takes him a few minutes to locate his computer – his Stark phone died when he accidentally through it at a mob member (knocked the dude right out though, which gives it huge bonus points) so he’s using an old Nokia that he thinks he might’ve gotten when he was fourteen originally. (He could definitely kill a man by throwing the Nokia at them – it’s roughly the weight of a brick.) Once he’s got his computer he orders a pizza.

He’s pretty sure he doesn’t have cash, but that tends to be the sort of thing Kate can figure out. Or Nat can just convince the guy to give them the pizza for free. (It’s only happened once and Clint had promptly proposed.)

By the time he turns back to the kitchen the flame has died down. There aren’t flashing lights so, somehow, the fire alarm hasn’t gone off. That probably means it’s dead and he should fix it, but mostly he’s relieved he’s not going to have to deal with fireman.

Nat and Kate have their heads bent closely together, turned away so he can’t see their lips.

He turns back to the computer and offers a 20% bonus if the pizza comes in the next ten minutes.

[capriciouswrites]

Drunk fic Jemma Lance brotp "Are you missing a few brain cells?" Congrats, by the way!

Thank you darling! <3 <3 <3

Jemma describes herself as a patient, tolerant person (every time she does Skye or Fitz are in the background shaking their head and mouthing an enthusiastic ‘no’) but there is only so much she can take.

“Are you missing a few brain cells?” she finally asks when her patience has run its course.

Hunter looks up from where he’s been poking the edge of her petri dish and watching the goo inside wobble. “No?” he hazards.

Her eyebrow rises and her hands don’t move from her hips. “Really?” she asks, lips downturned.

“Yes?” he tries instead. She seems equally unimpressed with this answer.

“Then explain to me exactly why you’ve been talking to Fitz and, honestly, everyone, about how Will, the man I’m in love with who saved me from certain death multiple times, should be left on a hell planet?”

He blinks and shifts back like he’s thinking of bolting. Old Jemma might’ve let him get away with it, but she’s fought monster plants now and won and she won’t let him run from this conversation, so she steps forward, crowding him against the bench between her and her experiment. “I’m…sorry?” he tries.

She narrows her eyes and pokes him in the chest, hard. She knows where his scars are and where he has sensitivity, and she takes advantage of that fact, but he doesn’t wince until she says, “No, you’re not.”

He looks down and tries to shift into the lab bench behind him. “I just…you and Fitz are, you know, like me and Bobbi and I –“

“Me and Fitz are not like you and Bobbi. Half the time you’re in love and half the time you’re telling others that your ex is a demon, same with her – me and Fitz almost had something but it didn’t happen and even if it did that’s not a reasonable excuse to leave a good man stuck on a planet. Get your act together, Hunter, or I’ll make sure you end up with a non deadly but extremely obnoxious incurable disease.” She tosses her hair over her shoulder before she storms away.

Once she’s left and Lance is sure no one else is around he collapses back against a stool and tries to calm his heart rate.

Who knew Simmons could be quite so terrifying?

[capriciouswrites]

Oh please tell me drunk fics are still open! BioSpecialist and Jemma/Lance brotp with "what's wrong with my ego?"

Grant stays stock-still. He’s been a bodyguard for nearly ten years, though back then he was mostly under cover backup, and the still professional look isn’t difficult for him to manage. Not even when his clients are over half an hour late.

He wishes he could be surprised about it, but most of his clientele are wealthy and he’s found that makes them pretty negligent of respect for people working for them. Even when he’s literally supposed to be willing to step between them and a bullet.

Mostly, of course, it’s people who just want the prestige of a bodyguard without any actual threat, but based off what Coulson had told him about this job he’d thought there was an actual threat.

Must not be though, not if L.H. who hired him is forty-five minutes late. The woman behind the desk – secretary or EA or whatever the current term is if he’s ever seen one – is staring at him judgingly over her computer monitor. She offered him a seat, but that’s not how this works. He knows from experience that the seats in an office like this are wildly uncomfortable anyways, and struggling to stand up from one when his client finally comes through the door is not the impression he wants to leave.

It’s a few minutes short of an hour when the elevator doors finally open again. As soon as they do he can hear an in progress argument.

“Oi! What’s wrong with my ego?” comes a rough male English accent. But the first person he sees is a slight woman in a lab coat – she stops as soon as she sees him, gives him a curious look, and then finishes her walk to the receptionist’s desk.

The blond woman stands up and they hug. “Bobbi,” says the woman in a much more smooth English accent, “I love you but you need to control your husband – he’s convinced I need a bodyguard.”

“Your brother is worried, Jem, this is the third written threat we’ve gotten this month.” The secretary slash receptionist slash EA doesn’t even spare him a glance as she waves a hand in his direction.  “Besides, your potential bodyguard is already here.”

The man from the elevator has only walked far enough into the room to see Grant, and he’s scowling. “I don’t like him.”

‘Jem’ turns around and stares at him for a moment. She’s slight with soft looking brown hair and warm eyes. Given what she’s said he’s expecting the brush off. But instead a slow blush starts to climb her cheeks and she says, absently, “Never mind. I’ve changed my mind. I definitely need a bodyguard.”

The man’s face darkens – but Grant moves quicker than he can speak, walking forward and offering his hand to the woman. “My name is Grant Ward – I have ten years of experience in personal protection and would be more than happy to take care of you.”

The secretary – who is apparently married to the boss? So maybe not secretary – snorts and moves to intercept her husband (he’s started making a high pitched noises in the back of his throat that cannot be a good sign.)

“I’m Jemma – Jemma Simmons. My brother Lance Hunter hired you, I think. Um. Hi.” She stumbles over her words and is, possibly, the most adorable woman he’s ever seen.

His smile widens and he takes the hand she offers and kisses the back of it.

Her blush darkens by several shades.

[capriciouswrites]

you should totally write a fic which involves biospec playing twister

“Left hand yellow,” Fitz says, safe on the sofa with his broken foot.

Grant barely manages to move his left hand off of red and onto one of the few free yellow spaces before Coulson. He’s pretty sure the rules are that each spin is per person and not for everyone, but he’d been outvoted. And then Skye had pointed out that with so many athletic individuals they should raise the stakes, and only one limb can be on each circle.

It would’ve been easy to let Coulson get there before him, but Simmons and Skye had been making jokes about how inflexible he was before they started and – yes, okay, he’s being competitive.  

It wouldn’t be a problem except that their right feet are all already on yellow, so there aren’t enough circles. In fact, there’s only one circle and Grant has it.

But even before Coulson has left the board, Simmons’ has her hand next to his foot. Which is acceptable, according to the rules, if Coulson did come second onto the circle. (Grant is sure he did, but Fitz has a dwarf watching the action so he can be sure there’s no cheating.) May puts her hand where Grant’s foot is, and Skye puts hers where Simmons’ foot is – hoping for the best.

Fitz cackles when he tells Coulson and May and Skye to leave the board.

Skye pouts for only a moment before conspiring with Fitz, and then saying, loudly, “Since there are only two of you directions will be per-person, instead of for both of you.”

Grant knows it’s going to be bad even before he sees that Fitz isn’t following the spins but instead just picking the most awkward stretches for them to do.

How he ends up under her is a mystery, but with her shorter arms she’s pressed snugly against him and –

Winning isn’t everything, he decides as her stretch to reach makes her rub against his back and – he falls.

On purpose.

He’s been tortured by professionals less successfully than this.

He barely manages to stay for Simmons’ victory gloating before heading to his bunk.

[capriciouswrites]

Oh, yay, it's Drunk!Fic time AND you have reasons to celebrate! (Employment is good, and we all have to start somewhere, and yay money!) "Nice dress; now take it off." for biospecialist, please and thank you! (And congrats on the job! paying off loans! excellent adulting!)

I don’t want to be an adult, can I pass? Is that a thing I can do?

On a day to day basis Grant changes his mind as to what the worst part about going into the field where fifty percent of the team have failed their field exam. He usually can’t decide which is worse – Simmons who failed for her inability to lie, Fitz who can’t take an order without speaking back or Skye who always puts individuals over the mission. (He thinks, given training, Skye could have, at least, passed the field test – but she doesn’t have that training and makes simple situations far harder than they have to be.)

Today the worst part is Fitz’s inability to take an order.

He’s not even giving Fitz the order, which somehow makes it more aggravating.

They’re dressing to infiltrate a gala and each of them were given very specific dress requirements according to the persona that May and Grant created for them. So when Simmons comes into the lounge in a short dark red dress that would make Grant choke on air if he wasn’t a competent Specialist, all he can say is, “Nice dress; now take it off,” because it doesn’t fit the classy society woman profile that she’s been given.

Fitz, of course, bristles immediately. His eyes don’t move from Simmons’ legs – visible up to high on her thigh – and so not only is Grant having to deal with Fitz’s dislike of taking order but he’s also having to deal with the other male’s denied sexual desire.

(Grant keeps hoping that Skye will just jump the engineer and help him work some of this out of his system, but given how they’re dancing around each other he’s not going to hold his breath.)

And yes, fair, Grant would want her to change even if the dress did fit the profile because Simmons in a skirt that short and a dress that tight is going to take his attention away from the target but luckily for him it doesn’t fit the profile, so she has to change.

And okay, when she looks down at herself and then back at Grant with a frown etched across her face and asks, voice vulnerable, “Do I not look okay?” it definitely takes everything in him not to assure her that she looks like she walked out of his daydreams – but she still doesn’t fit the profile made for this mission and she needs to change.

As soon as possible.

Preferably before Grant has to stand up.