#frenchkey

[continentcakeshop]

Cake Shop Winter Gift Exchange

Today's fic was written by @frenchkey a gift for @sometimesiwrite!

The fic is

When the Hunt is Done 

Rated: Teen

Pairings: Cirilla Fiona Elen Riannon/Cerys an Craite 

When Ciri returns from a difficult hunt, Cerys is there to help her recover.

[shanastoryteller]

Have a wonderful yule Shana! Thank you so much for blessing my year with so much wonderful writing. Could you do something with trans Ed or Harry? Pretty please? If not, more Harry and the twins would be fab. Thanks!

a continuation of 1

“What are you doing?” Ron asks, peering over her shoulder. 

“Writing letters to all the stupid books who write about me,” she answers. “If they’re going to give me a dumb name, it should at least be accurate. I’m the Girl Who Lived, or whatever.” 

He hums, then sits down next to her. “Got an extra quill? It’ll go faster with the both of us.” 

[julek]

Jaskel with three of the dealer's choice?

who drives/rides shotgun: they take turns driving, ‘cause they’re both good at it but they also don’t mind. since they both like all kinds of music, they usually settle on some chill radio station, eskel’s hand on jaskier’s thigh when he’s driving, humming under his breath

who is an embarrassingly drunk dancer: eskel! he loves dancing but is too self-conscious, so alcohol gives him that extra courage to grab jaskier’s hand and slow dance to whatever’s playing (yes, even that one time britney spears’ toxic was playing and they were swaying together as if at a wedding) (jaskier loves him)

who still cries watching titanic: BOTH! jaskier’s the kind to start bawling his eyes out the moment dicaprio comes on screen, while eskel tries to muscle through it for as long as he can. anyway, by the time the titanic’s half-sunk, they’re both sobbing

send me a ship!

[aurumacadicus]

frenchkey replied to your post “I associate you with your pencil and pumps au! Oh and four score! I...”

Do you have a link to pencils and pumps? It sounds super up my street but I can't find it! :'(

https://aurumacadicus.tumblr.com/tagged/pencils-and-pumps-au/chrono

It’s gotta be desktop or on your mobile web browser to work.

[tisfan]

5 and Forever Home?

5: What part was hardest to write?

I think the hardest part of that fic was not giving the ending away too early. We waved Ty around like a red flag, and then we were like “okay, let’s back this up a bit” and had to go back and tone down his appearances earlier in the fic. :D

[wardog-of-whimsy]

Would you ever write WinterHawk? <3

Yes? Yes. Yes. 

Awakening from a dead sleep at the sudden awareness that he’snot alone, Bucky snaps his head around and glares at his bedroom door. There’sthe distant sound of boots scraping in the next room, which means that JARVISis piping in the sound or someone’s already been wrecked to tread so heavily.Before he went to bed, he knows the door was closed and therefore he shouldn’tbe able to hear it what’s going on in the next room.

A moment later and he hears the doorknob turn and is sittingbolt upright in a moment, a dagger in hand as he glares at whomever dares toinfringe upon his territory. In the back of his mind he knows that it has to bean Avenger. If they were under attack JARVIS would sound an alarm, and if theAI were to be under attack he’d wake everyone with an alarm. Still, it isn’tlike him to let anyone on Bucky’s floor, he respects boundaries better thananyone.

“Steve, if that’s you I’mma stab you out of spite.” Hesnarls when the door cracks open, a sliver of ambient light from the sittingarea windows arcing in. Right after he says it, he knows that can’t be right. Itshouldn’t be Steve, half the team went out on a mission two days ago and noneof them should be back yet.

“Not Steve, don’t stab.” The appearing figure mumbles, andClint slips through a minimal opening and closes the door behind himimmediately.

Even so, Bucky can see a hint of white bandages wrappedaround the archer’s upper arm and another section curving around his ribs.There’s no shirt, tactical vest or any sort of covering on Clint’s torso, hishair’s a ruffled mess, but he’s still wearing his tac pants and boots. If hehad to guess, James would think this means Clint’s injuries were significant enoughthat he had to go to medical and they half-washed him before turning him loosein the tower. The fact that Tasha didn’t text him to tell him so means that sheand Steve and Sam are probably out in the field, and Clint got sent backbecause of his injuries.

“You got hurt.” He snaps, stowing the knife and pitching offthe bedclothes so he can slide out of the bed. “The deal was that you go outand play with my jackass best friend, and you come back to me uninjured.”

“How did you-? Fuck, just when I slid in?” Clint’s tone goesfrom questioning to complaining as he realizes that the brief flash of lightwas enough to sell him out. It was, too, more than enough for James to get agood look at just what a mess he was before the near-perfect dark of thebedroom was restored. “Fuckin’ Super Soldier.”

“You come back uninjured and you could be fuckin’ a supersoldier.” James bitches as he shuffles over and goes to his knees. “Stand stillif you can, lemme get your boots off, you goddamn disaster. You get to give meyour report so I know exactly what the damage is and how slowly I gotta killStevie.”

“Not Steve’s fault.” Clint offers weakly, his uninjured armrising to catch on the wall as James approaches. “Don’t hurt him.”

“Steve’s the Commander, he borrowed my goddamn boyfriend onour week off, I get to kick his ass.” James argues, cupping a hand around Clint’ship before going to his knees in front of the archer.

He knows Clint can’t see him in the dark, bird-sharp eyes ornot, but the gesture is still graceful. Knees spread to either side of thearcher’s boots, he pauses to glare at the white bandages obscuring his view ofClint’s abs and sighs. Leaning forward to let his forehead brush against theblond’s belly, ignoring how the buckle digs in at his hairline, he relaxes whenbow-calloused fingers sink into his hair.

“I’m alright.” Clint murmurs, burying his non-bracing handin James’s sleep-tousled hair. “I’m alright, I promise.”

“You got shot.” James snaps, tilting his head up enough tolay a punishing bite at the archer’s navel. He knows it’ll make Clint jump sohe keeps his hand braced at his boyfriend’s hip and curls the other aroundClint’s left calf. “And you fucked up your ribs, didn’t you? That’s why they’rewrapped. Did Helen scold you?”

“Ouch! Ass.” Clint bitches about the bite, fingers yankingat James’s hair. “Yeah she lectured me the whole time she wrapped them. But shex-rayed and they aren’t broken, there’s just a little bruising and maybe acrack or two.”

The way that he says it casually tells Bucky that there isdefinitely some cracking and makes his jaw tense so he doesn’t say too much.Instead he lets his fingers move to the laces on Clint’s boots, untying them. “Mybest friend is a dead man.”

“You can’t threaten to maim or murder Steve every time I gethurt.”

“Oh can’t I?” The soldier snaps. “Fucking watch me! Lift.”

Clint sighs, loudly and dramatically like he’s also rollinghis eyes, but obediently lifts his foot enough to let James pull the boot away.When the sock is stripped off he groans at the pressure of metal digits againstthe knot in his calf, sighing when they slide down to rub his foot and thengently ease it back down to the floor. “I can’t defend Steve when you’reworking your magic on my sore muscles. You know that.”

“Don’t defend Steve, if he wanted to be in my good gracesyou would be back to me without injury.” James grumbles. “You good to takeweight?”

“Yeah, I’m good. Get the other one off, will you?” Clintgrumbles, sighing as his boyfriend makes quick work of the laces and pulls offhis last boot and sock. “Fuck that feels so much better.”

“Your calves are tense.” The soldier grumbles, rubbing atthe muscle before putting Clint’s foot down and reaching for the belt. “Yougonna be able to sleep?”

“You offering to wear me out?” Clint purrs as the tongue ofthe belt slips free and James’s fingers slide to the button and zipper.

“I think you’re wore out just fine, and you’re medicated andyou’re wrapped.” James counters. “I’m taking your damn pants off and then you’regoing to bed.”

“Awww, only half of that sounds like fun.”

“You wanted fun, you shoulda come back in one piece.”

“I am in one piece!” Clint’s voice arcs up in indignation.

“Tell that to the blood you left on the battlefield andwhatever the fuck you did to your ribs.” James peels the tac pants down andthen stands, helping Clint step out of them and shuffle across the room innothing more than briefs and bandages. “We’re not arguing about this. You’regoing to sleep.”

“You’re gonna stay with me though, right?” Clint hates thathe sounds so unsure as the soldier gently presses him down onto his side of thebed.

“Course I fucking am, you came back.” The brunet soundsmiffed and sleepy once again, his momentary spike of tension eased away as hepulls the blankets over Clint and then climbs in on his side, closer to thedoor. “I just wish you weren’t hurt.”

“Would be having sex right now if I wasn’t?”

“You know what?” James grumbles, reaching out and curling anarm around Clint’s hips. “Just because I want you to learn your lesson, yes, yes we would.”

“Awww ribs, no.” Clint whines, snuggling into the hold.

“Yeah, exactly.” The soldier grumbles into the back of hisneck, sighing. “I’m glad you’re home.”

“Yeah.” Clint smiles in the dark, laying his arm over Bucky’sand lacing their fingers. “Me too.”

[rebelmeg]

Junkcanon for Clint Barton?

Okay, but Clint Barton.  You’ve seen his arms.  That man has a torso made of solid muscle.  And you KNOW he’s good with his hands, in every way that counts.  And perfect aim, every time.

[thebibliosphere]

Oh my god I've just realised that you're Scottish and it's brilliant. It's so nice to see another Scottish voice on my dash. I love that you say stuff like dinae and eejit. It makes me feel like I'm back at home hanging out with my pals.

Eeey another one :D and yes indeedy I am Scottish, though currently living in America with my spouse for the last three years. 

Occasionally I like to forgo English and type in Scots, it helps keep me sane and has the added bonus of others doing it back to me which aye, feels like hame :)