2017 Locker for Schompie

[kayable]

Name (as you'd like it to appear in the subject line for your stocking): Schompie

Friending Meme Post: (optional) here!

Fandoms: Yuri!! on Ice, Ace Attorney, Overwatch, Mass Effect, Dragon Age, Kiss Him Not Me, Supernatural

Characters/Pairings/Moresomes: Victuuri, Phoenix/Miles, Daryan/Klavier, McHanzo, Pharah/Mercy, Tracer/Emily, Lucio/D.Va, FemShep/Garrus, FemShep/Liara, Anders/any version of Hawke, Cullen/Fem!Mage Trevelyan, Mutsumi/Serinuma, Nishina/Serinuma, Cas/Dean. I also love gen stuff with all those characters I've listed, and would love to see more cute platonic stuff with Maya and Phoenix and Bastion and Ganymede too!

Likes: friends to lovers, fluff in general, friendships, happy silly smut, cohabition, characters going to the snow or beach together, most AU settings

Dislikes: gore, unrequited love, basically I'm a big sap and like sappy or platonic cheery stuff, not keen on omega/alpha dynamics

Anything else: Not really, have a good Valentimes!


Reminder that NOTES are welcome too - just a nice little comment (either plain, or you can even type it up on a nice little graphic/image etc.) for the recipient.


(Comments are going to screened until the reveal on Feb 14. Lockers will be open until the end of Feb.)

Comments

[mother_herbivore]

i'm new to overwatch (never played the game aksjdhsk) but i really wanted to do something with bastion for you, and when i heard zenyatta's bastion interaction i thought it'd be cute if they met at some point while zenyatta is traveling so i drew the thing



hope u like it, and happy valentine's!! :~)

bg is public domain

[fickle]

Awww yesss Dragon Age and Anders/Hawke! I went with m!Hawke, mage. Happy V-Day!

---------------

Life on the run, Hawke quickly discovered, was far different with Anders than with his family.

There was no Carver glowering and second-guessing his every decision, there was no frazzled mother trying desperately to keep the peace and there was no Bethany forever caught between the risks of using magic and the risk of freezing/starving if she didn’t.

There was just Anders, apologetic and exhausted, but forever loyal. Anders had run a free clinic with very little in the way of supplies and knew how to brew teas against fever, how to make salves against infection and how to make creams that when massaged into tired limbs would prevent stiffness from setting in overnight.

Hawke, meanwhile, reserved his energy for more offensive magic. He might use the occasional fireball to light their campfires but for the most part, he kept his magic in reserve. He could fight without fearing the emergence of a Fade spirit; Anders could not.

(No matter what Anders said about Vengeance and him being one, Hawke would not believe it. There was no time for moral quandaries in their eked-out existence. They had each other and that was that.)

“Here,” Anders said, moving over to the stew pot and scattering a handful of seeds inside the thin broth. Thick chunks of fish bubbled up and turned over, exposing their white flesh, while a variety of leaves swirled about in the water. “That’ll make it a little hotter. Almost like pepper.”

“Delicious. The Chantry wasted your talents having you play mage instead of chef for them,” Hawke quipped, poking the fire with a branch. Built under a bluff with a discreet chimney hollow that sent the smoke away from them, the fire would not give away their location and they could enjoy the luxury of a hot meal.
“I think they were afraid I’d poison them,” Anders laughed; the sound was still raw but it sent more heat through Hawke than any fire could.
“Would you have?” Hawke asked, suddenly curious. The explosion had killed so many but before that – had Anders still held that same willingness to kill anyone who was a member of the Chantry?

“Maybe some of them. Put the antidote in their wine, pour it out for everyone except my targets, then give them all the poisoned dish.” Anders answered without looking at Hawke.

“…Clever,” Hawke admitted. His shoulders relaxed as he leaned to the side and brushed a kiss over Anders’ cheek. Yes. Anders wasn’t the same as Vengeance. Hawke had made the right choice.

[camalyng]

Hello stranger! Here is a little Shakarian fluff:


After taking a bullet to the gut on the Collector base, Garrus had come to accept that he was in love with a woman whose ideas didn’t always work out well for him. So he’s not at all surprised that Shepard managed to find a planet with nice beaches and commercial transport to get there while the Normandy’s in dry dock.

No, he’s surprised that she was apparently too oblivious and focused on the prospect of a beach to check the weather.

“Snow,” he says in disbelief. Sure, it’s only light, but wasn’t their mission on Noveria last week enough?

Shepard looks up at the falling snowflakes, her smile wide and radiant. “Snow!” She laughs, the freest he’s heard her in weeks, and twirls around, letting her towel unfurl like wings. “I can’t believe this.”

“You’re cold,” he admonishes her, because he can see tiny bumps starting to form on her skin. The Heavy Skin Weave Cerberus gave her doesn’t protect her from the weather. “The warmest thing we brought is our armor - let’s just go back to the Citadel.”

He reaches for her, intending to wrap her back up in the towel, but what Shepard lacks in flexibility she makes up for with speed, and she all but dances away.

“I grew up in colder than this,” she tells him gleefully. “And the first day of ICT, they dump you on an asteroid with the bare basics. This isn’t cold.”

“Well, your boyfriend’s cold,” he says.

With a shake of her head, Shepard plants her hands on her hips, her towel dangling precariously from her shoulders. “Okay, you big, whiny --”

“Person from a planet with a weak magnetic field,” he points out.

“Turian,” she summarizes. “Compromise: We won’t go in the water.”

“And we leave before my cowl completely fills up with snow.”

Only now noticing the slush collecting in his cowl, Shepard bursts out laughing. “It’s not falling heavily enough to stay there, but that is hilarious.”

“Shepard,” he says.

She tiptoes to wrap her arms around his neck, and against his will he can feel himself melting like a snowflake. “We won’t stay too long,” she says, her voice soft and warm. “If nothing else, try to enjoy the time away?”

He nods, sliding his arms around her waist. “Good job finding a place with no tourists.” The snow probably helped.

“No Reapers,” she adds. “No Cerberus.”

“No clones.” He pauses, flaring his mandibles. “Unless you’re the clone?”

“You ass,” she says, but she headbutts him anyway. “See if I make you a snow turian.”

“A what?”

Eyes widening, she drops to the ground and starts piling up snow. “You are going to have fun with snow by the time I’m done with you.”

“Not if my mandibles freeze off first,” he argues, but he kneels to watch her anyway, his focus more on the light in her eyes and the skill of her hands than the misshapen lump forming between them. By the time she makes him score colony markings into the snow turian’s face, he’s too happy to be cold.

[kiyala]

DEAR DUDE,

ILU I HOPE YOU LIKE YOUR PRESENT I HAD NO IDEA WHAT I WAS DOING BUT I DID IT OUT OF LOVE

XOXOX KIIIIIIIII

---

McCree/Hanzo; 396w; G

Hanzo has gone too long on his own, Jesse thinks as they dance around each other in their shared space.

The apartment in Paris is small, meant to serve only as a place to rest and to contact HQ while on mission, but Hanzo makes it feel even smaller. He flinches every time he turns and finds Jesse closer than he expects. It happens every single time that they're in the same room, even when they're on opposite ends of it. Everything about Hanzo screams solitude—a self-imposed exile from any kind of company, Jesse muses. He's heard what Hanzo has done. He knows that Hanzo probably thinks that he deserves this—whatever it is that he thinks he's doing to himself. Jesse has been there and he knows what it feels like. He knows that whatever path Hanzo thinks he's walking, it's different to the one that he's actually on, but it's going to take him too long to realise it on his own. It's going to be too late before he realises he isn't getting anywhere at all.

"Hey." Jesse ignores the way Hanzo freezes up, and places a mug of tea beside him. "Probably nothin' close to what you like, but… here."

Hanzo eyes it before picking it up. He's different here to how he is on the battlefield. Here, he's cautious and reserved. Out there, he throws himself into fights like he's daring himself not to come out of them alive. Jesse knows what that's like, too.

With a bracing sip, Hanzo frowns. "Awful."

Jesse laughs, scratching his beard. "Yeah, I thought so. Why don't you teach me?"

Hanzo looks up with another frown.

"Just sayin'," Jesse shrugs. "You have more to lose if you don't, right? You keep pickin' our targets off with those headshots of yours, before I can do a thing. Might as well make some use of me."

Hanzo snorts quietly. "You don't even have the proper tools to make anything I would deign to call tea."

"So we're taking a trip to the shops, then," Jesse declares.

Hanzo immediately looks like he's going to protest, but then he stops himself with a sigh. He smiles at Jesse and it might look like he's just swallowed something sour, but Jesse is willing to call it progress all the same.

"Fine," he says at all. "We'll go. But you can pay."