#frostyfuntime2k19

[catilinas]

the C the C the open C! embroidery on a literal sweater for the @frostyfuntime prompt ‘sweater weather’

[laissezferre]

bog brown

@frostyfuntime prompt: two to a sack fitzier | 447w

later, after, francis watches james sleep. 

he is as silent as the stars in the sky, matching his breathing with james’s own. it is a cruel game he had played, back in that unforgiving land of endless night and endless day. he would lie next to james, counting the seconds between each breath, and he promised to himself that if james’s breathing stopped, so would his. it would be the most natural thing.

they have abandoned all their tents but one, a small mercy for the gravely ill. james grumbles despite his wasting body to give his bed to a better man. francis smiles and shakes his head, searches for his own sack that has been sequestered by a curtain of loose blankets. for a while, he dreams, only to be stirred awake by slow, struggling footsteps. without ceremony, james kneels heavily at his side, mumbles “it’s fucking cold, francis”, and francis can do nothing but loosen the knots in his sack. james worms his way inside. he does the same the next day, and the next, and the next.

once, james wakes in the middle of the night. the scarce moon has bathed him in silver, and his crusted hair sticks to his forehead like the life that clings to his body. francis does not speak, caught out and undenying, and he watches james shift from wakefulness to alarm to concern. james’s hand appears from beneath the sack, uncertain at first, but so very gentle. with a thumb, he wipes the wet from francis’s cheek, anoints him with his own tears.

when their ship arrives in england, a lieutenant greets them. his uniform is neatly pressed, his smile warm and naive. he offers to take their scant possessions to their lodgings. francis rattles off an address, a chatham inn that he had frequented as a half-pay lieutenant. he does not look at james, expects him to mention some gentleman’s club, or a country cottage of his brother’s. when james gives the same address, francis dares to lift his eyes, and what he sees in james’s makes him feel two contrary sensations: first, like the earth has swallowed him whole; second, like his back has sprouted wings.

the memory comes to francis, so vivid and enthralling that he does not notice immediately: james’s breathing has changed, more controlled, deliberate. his eyes when they open are the color of freshly tilled soil. “what are you smiling about?” james asks. his voice is slurred and lovely and perfect. francis tucks a strand of soft hair behind his ear. “it’s nothing, james,” he says. “only that i love you.”

beyond their window, the moon is bright, the stars are singing. 

[anadequatesir]

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

“Good afternoon, and welcome to Erebus Airlines Flight 1845 from London to St. John’s, Newfoundland. My name is Francis Crozier and I’ll be your Captain today. We’ll be taking off shortly after performing pre-flight checks. Have a pleasant flight.”

Getting in just under the wire for the Janky Franky’s @frostyfuntime  prompt 'aurora'. This is also a fill for my @theterrorbingo square, An Adventure of a Lifetime. Edward Little/Thomas Jopson and Francis Crozier/James Fitzjames, T, 4597 words.

Happy Christmas!

[diydumpsterdiving]

the weary world rejoices

rating: T

fandom: The Terror

relationship: none

words: 1349

summary: Fitzjames goes to his first Christmas party after the survivors are rescued. It doesn't go well.

author’s note: Written for day nine of Janky Franky's Frosty Funtime 2k19! Today's prompt was bit of a benjo. Merry Christmas if you celebrate it and I am very sorry for this angsty thing I wrote for the holiday, I hope you enjoy it anyways rip

@frostyfuntime

read on ao3

[gigi-sinclair]

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

[grahamgore]

des voeux x collins | sweater weather

rating. teen.

sum. des voeux finds himself enamoured by a man in what may be the most comfortable sweater he’s ever seen. 

notes. written for @frostyfuntime​ (prompt: sweater weather). i’m behind on all the prompts don’t shoot me, talk to me about des voeux only being nice to collins instead. 

on ao3. (word count: 1.398)

[solomontoaster]

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: The Terror (TV 2018) Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Captain Francis Crozier/Thomas Jopson Characters: Captain Francis Crozier, Thomas Jopson Additional Tags: Fluff, Christmas, Somebody Lives/Not Everyone Dies, Tenderness, frostyfuntime Summary:

The London air was cold and wet and snow was falling in big white flakes as Francis hurried home late on Christmas Eve with a hastily wrapped parcel under his arm.

@frostyfuntime

[laissezferre]

samson

@frostyfuntime day 10: let it go fitzier (getting there), 1680w

Francis can hardly keep Jopson's services to himself, seeing as how James had readily relinquished Bridgens’s. This leaves Francis to attend to his own ablutions, and while he can reacquaint himself with the razor, cutting his own hair requires a dexterity he does not possess.

“Have you ever cut someone’s hair before?”

James smiles. “Who do you think cuts mine?”

on ao3