C&C Holiday Gift Exchange -- CONCLUSION

[goddamnrobin.livejournal.com]

Hello everyone!

THIS IS THE CONCLUSION OF THE HOLIDAY GIFT EXCHANGE.

It's Christmas and this means all the Holiday Gift Exchange participants will have to give their gifts away soon. Soon being relative because the exchange date is still the 6th, no worry! I just wanted this up for Christmas because of the atmosphere and all :)

How this is going to work:

1) Every participant has to answer that entry with their personal journal.
2) Before or on January 6th, find your giftee's comment and answer with your own personal journal, giving them their gift. You can do that in advance if you wish to.

After the 6th, I will look at who didn't get a gift and start harassing their gifters. You are being warned. And I will be mean this time around.

Happy Holidays to everyone!

Comments

Sophie

[not-unwise.livejournal.com]

Sophie (take two!)

[laihiriel.livejournal.com]

MERRY CHRISTMAS AND ALL THAT JAZZ FOR REALZ THIS TIME.

Kai

[kaichan.livejournal.com]

()

ICY

[iceburgundy.livejournal.com]

THAT THING YOU DO WITH YOUR TEETH

[(Anonymous)]

Hi there! First off, let me say that I'm sorry this is so late, but I was kind of called in as a pinch hitter. I'm also sorry it's rather short, and if you want anything to make up for it just ask! I also hope the ah, subject matter is alright. I know you said the pairing was, but I don't know if the discussion is. And since I was so late I ended up centering it around entirely the wrong holiday, but that should be alright! Enjoy, and a very belated happy holidays. ♥

---

He just couldn't make sense of it.

The rest of the note made at least some sense. Yes, it was cute in a disgustingly sappy, very Maximal kind of way. But he could understand it.



But then there was that last one.



What in the world was that supposed to mean? He did plenty of things with his teeth. He chewed food, though rarely gum. He accidentally bit his tongue about three times a day. He brushed them a few times a week, when he remembered.

Were there any of these that Metabee particularly liked? And if he did, why?

Waspinator knew that curiosity killed the cat, and had long ago learned not to ask questions he didn't want to know the answer to. But this was one of those things that was going to get under his skin for weeks if he didn't get it sorted out.

Which was why Metabee answered the doorbell to an outstretched hand and his own handwriting, about half an inch from his eyes. At first, he thought Waspinator had some kind of issue with the fact that he'd given him a Valentine's day card in the first place, and tried to explain it away despite his flush. He was used to trying to introduce seemingly normal concepts and have them shot down by 'Predaconz don't ____', but he'd been uncertain enough about mailing this in the first place.

He tried to backpedal, saying it wasn't really that important, it had been a joke, he should have known the buzzbrain wouldn't have understood something like this. He was doing fairly well until Waspinator raised an eyebrow and tapped a finger on the last one, staring intently at him and asking what the notation meant.

Metabee silently thanked his lucky stars he was too dark for a blush to be obvious. With his usual weapons of tactlessness of bluster (and some heavy help from his good friend innuendo), he managed to explain what he'd meant.

To some surprise, Waspinator merely grinned – showing off the choppers in question – and leant forward to wrap his arms around his waist. "Why didn't Yellowbot juzt szay szo?" He crooned with a smirk. "Can do more often, for szure."

Amy

[smash-circuits.livejournal.com]

hi bbs

Let's play a game. It's called "How many fluffy clichés can you find in that fic?" (1/2)

[not-unwise.livejournal.com]

NOTE: Kitty gave me logs to read to get their relationship better and K read this and betaed it :) They're both awesome, obviously!
NOTE 2: Happy Holidays~ :> I hope you like this and all that...

Rating: G


Let's play a game. It's called "How many fluffy clichés can you find in that fic?"

The weather is nice. That alone is a miracle, because the last four times Gar intended this to happen, the weather ended up being the most hideous thing ever and everything had failed quite epically. The last time, it even snowed. Life hates him so much that it brought a foot of snow in May so he couldn't take his girlfriend out to have a picnic.

The fact life tends to hate him is exactly the reason he hasn't told Kitty he's been planning something, because he would have jinxed it even more, and he finds he's jinxed it quite enough already.

It's not raining, or snowing, or hailing and the sun is even out. It's perfect, and of course, this means he has to stay on his guard because there is a good chance something else will go badly.

So Gar borrows a car and goes to pick up Kitty.

With flowers.

"What are the flowers for?" She asks, amused and smirking.

"It was our eight months anniversary three... weeks ago?"

Kitty raises an eyebrow and takes the flowers. "It was. Did you just realise?"

"No! Of course not. I -- we -- yo u know we did, uh, something."

She's now frowning. "So you forgot what we did?"

Gar feels like digging himself in a bigger hole for a moment, but Kitty has to know that he's not good with words by now. She's... not screaming or hitting him?

"No I didn't. We... you know. Didthethingwiththefeather." The fact he's green means his blush isn't as bad as it could be. "And it was amazing," he continues quickly, "but it wasn't a date-date, and then it snowed, and before that we were attacked by the weird eating plants, and it kept being pushed back so I thought we should do something today."

Kitty smiles and looks at the flowers. "Hence the flowers?"

"Yes! And the car."

There's an awkward pause during which they both do not look at each other and the flowers seem incredibly interesting to both of them.

"I'm not dressed," Kitty says eventually.

"Oh. You look fine."

"I would like to look better than 'fine', Gar."

Gar scratches the back of his neck, looking away shyly. "You always look a lot more than fine to me. I just meant that I'm not overdressed either and we're not doing anything fancy or -- well it's not about going to the restaurant..." he trails off. "I have things for a picnic in the car?"

Kitty's look softens and she smiles, showing teeth. "Okay. Let me just -- put these inside," she says, shaking the flowers a little.

He waits for nearly ten minutes and when she comes back out, he sees she hasn't changed her clothes but she obviously did something with her hair.

"It looks good."

"Thanks. I thought, well, you know... since you have the car --"

Gar kisses her in the middle of the sentence, grinning. It's ridiculous that they're both nervous about a picnic. The point of the picnic was that it was supposed to be entirely non-stressful.

At least until the snow and plant monsters -- because these were incredibly stressful for Gar.

However, fortunately, they are not here today, in that fine mid-May day, and everything will be fine. Right.

They even get to the park without the car ride being ridiculously weird, or the car breaking down, or being suddenly attacked from the sky by a hoard of giant killer hornets.

Spah

[crowbared.livejournal.com]

Spah

[karra.livejournal.com]

Merry happy! (http://i46.tinypic.com/mv0w0k.png)

[noelleno.livejournal.com]

ELLE

SO MY PARENTS LOST MY PENCILS AND I DREW THIS WITH A SHARPIE.

[123youreit.livejournal.com]

"... Where were you keeping that?"

"D-does it matter?"

".. Nuh-uh."

Karra

[karra.livejournal.com]

[thanatoast.livejournal.com]

:D;;;;;;;;;

*FIGURES OUT HOW TO DRAW KYLE REESE orz

K

[dianoetic.livejournal.com]

[zendequervain.livejournal.com]

H-hey, you didn't reply to my second pm about stuffs, but I need your address to send a thing to you. :>

♥

Hat or purse? I has preeeetty yarns.

Ay

[aymiah]

Re: Ay

[(Anonymous)]

/vomits with nervousness

---

Melee practiced while she waited. Snow dusted her dark hair, her shoulders, the bridge of her nose. The flurries swirled around her as she swung her leg in a wide arc and then brought it down on the hard, frosted grass. Earth exploded around her boot and she grinned. Nothing kept Melee warm like her own racing blood, like the blast furnace that ignited inside of her as she punched and kicked the biting wind.

She was in a secluded corner of one of the City's parks, far off the walking paths and near a small pond that had thoroughly frozen over. Melee palmed the mirror-glass sheet of ice, trying to judge the force necessary to smash through it. She was lifting her hand for a test strike when she heard Saitou walk up behind her. Leaping to her feet, Melee faced him in a battle stance: legs apart, one fist protecting her chest and the other protecting her face. She exhaled, and the white puff of her breath hung in the air, mingling with the smoke that trailed off the end of Saitou's cigarette.

"Merry Christmas," Saitou said.

"Yeah," she said. "Back atcha."

And then she punched him.

Saitou dodged, but only just--the cigarette fell from his mouth and hit the grass, hissing softly as its orange glow died and sank into the snow. Melee heard the shing of metal against leather as Saitou unsheathed his katana. She had no problem sparring against armed opponents--truth be told, she liked the challenge.

When Saitou's blade nicked her shoulder, she laughed as the hot blood seeped through her torn windbreaker. She kicked up powder as she turned sharply 'round, aiming to pay him back with a spinning sidekick to the kidney. Momentary concern flickered over Saitou's face at the wound, and this slight hesitation cost him. Melee's kick connected and e stumbled, which elicited joyous laughter from his opponent.

This was their idea of a holiday visit. Not to mention a cheap way to combat the cold.

Saitou attempted to block any follow-up attack with his katana, but Melee abandoned all pretense at form and pounced him before he could regain his balance, knocking him into a pillowy mound of snow. He gasped, but maintained a tight grip on the hilt of his sword as he stared at Melee's triumphant face.

"Lighten up, eh?" Melee said. She was breathing hard from exertion and the temperature, her olive skin ruddy with body heat. "It's Christmas."

"I'd be lighter if you weren't on top of me," he said mildly. "Factually speaking."

"Tch." Melee rolled off. "Yer just lucky I don't got any mistletoe."

"Why?" he said, turning his head to look at her. His side ached. Blood still flowed freely from the cut on her shoulder, staining the snow. These interactions were how they related to each other. They had rarely entertained any other way.

"Just to complete the victory," she said, flicking a little snow at him.

"Hmph," he said. Saitou sat up, brushing himself off. "That's all."

Melee didn't answer for a few moments. He was about to ask if she was all right when he suddenly felt her battle-warmed lips against his cheek.

"Mostly all," Melee said, and then she stood as well.

Saitou touched his cheek and looked up into the whirling eddies of snow. A few flakes settled between his fingers, melting instantly. He smiled. "You said you didn't have any mistletoe."

"Yeah," Melee said. "But I won't tell if you won't."

Tali

[inabathrobe.livejournal.com]

[iceburgundy.livejournal.com]

Hi! I'm sorry that I'm so late with this.

So, here you go! (http://i45.tinypic.com/11vn0uu.jpg) Hopefully I got the details right, I'm not familiar with the book.

Kitty

[quipquipquip.livejournal.com]

[ironjill.livejournal.com]

AAAH SO CLOSE TO THE END BUT I FINISHED IT.

I apologize for the self-indulgence of this bb

Avali

[altanachan.livejournal.com]

[(Anonymous)]

lol this is total crap and unfinished idk if i'll have time to really make it look nice BUT YES HERE YOU GO

Jesse

[megalomaniac2.livejournal.com]

[wolfofmibu]

SORRY FOR THE LATENESS BB I hope this meets your standards ^^;

Charissa

[acanti.livejournal.com]

[expletives]

HELLO I AM VERY LATE BUT THAT'S OKAY

I like how I can't draw water but took the surfing prompt, huh.
Also that he's swimming in his hero costume I'M SURE IT MAKES SENSE IN COMIC BOOK LAND

Pretzels

[anthraxpretzels.livejournal.com]

[inabathrobe.livejournal.com]

Happy something! (http://i48.tinypic.com/33nw1zr.png)

Finches

[finchesenroute.livejournal.com]

happy holidays!

[anthraxpretzels.livejournal.com]

 nomnomnomnomnomnomnom (http://i50.tinypic.com/am48dt.gif)

Lyn

[lynstraine.livejournal.com]

oops I can't html

[smash-circuits.livejournal.com]

My little brother assisted me in taking pictures:



Also, most of the pictures of Koltira looked grumpy, so he has a grumpy face, and I hope that's alright. He has mighty eyebrows.



And he was nudey and I'm deciding to forgo the armor 'cause I ain't that good, buuut. I made him a dress tunic-thingy.



(He's dancing.)

I will mail him to youuuu. You can either e-mail your address to me (candycanepolkadots@yahoo.com) or IM me whenever you'd like at Not Scandinavian. I'm staying at my mother's for a couple of weeks, so it might take me a bit to get it out.

Cuddles

[cuddlesquid.livejournal.com]

FIVE OF WHAT CNC IS FAMOUS FOR (or: Lesbians Adore Beaches)

[dcushitkicker.livejournal.com]

SORRY I PASTED THE WRONG FILE WITH A NON-PAID ACCOUNT GOD WHAT IS MY FAIL

*coughs*

So you asked for lesbians and I picked five of the most relevant pairings I could find. (Well, actually, four, plus one crack one. You'll know which on is the crack one when you see it :3)

==

Lesbians Adore Beaches

dawn

Laura stands in the shallows of the beach, soft sprays of foam from the rising tide curling playfully around her ankles. The shadows on her face are soft and blue, contrasting with the warm blush of her cheeks as she smiles and stares out across the water. Kiden wants to kiss those outlines, wants to try to blend the two colours with her tongue until they melt together.

Oh, she knows that she can't do that, not really. Light doesn't work that way, life doesn't work that way, but that doesn't mean that she can't try.

She gets up from her seat in the sand and wraps her arms around Laura's waist, brushing her lips against her cheek.

"You like it here?"

Laura turns to meet Kiden's gaze, a smile soft on her face. Kiden always has to catch her breath when she sees Laura close like this, just for a moment, because her eyes are just so green. Not like emeralds or jade or dead rock, but like that new-cut grass or gleaming apple candy.

"Yes. I do."

And Kiden laughs.

"What do you like best?"

"It's just nice here. Cleaner..." Laura shrugs and her smile widens just a little. "And you're here. But that's not here. Just now."

The sea wind whips Laura's hair around their faces as they kiss. It smells like salt and freedom. Laura's hands are warm, spread across her shoulder blades, and Kiden thinks that they could stay like this forever.

==

good morning

Xavin looks down on a whim as she floats in the sky with Karolina. Their shadows are two vague smudges against the pale sand of the beach below. It's a pretty picture, but something about it seems wrong.

"Hmm."

Karolina looks over.

"Did you say something, Xavin?"

Suddenly struck by inspiration, Xavin takes Karolina's hand in hers. The two blurs merge into one and Xavin smiles, satisfied.

"Nothing important, beloved."

==

high noon

Neither woman (if both of them can be classified as women) really understands what's going on here. The sun is beating down mercilessly, blazing hot and red. The landscape surrounding them is battered; there are visible gouges dug into the sand which, considering that it's sand, is quite a feat. Patches and sprays of the ground have actually been turned to glass by the sheer heat of the battle.

Wu is panting hard and grinning wildly as she straddles Lust, glowing fist held a hair's breadth above Lust's ourobouros tattoo. Blood is seeping from a fresh cut just under her eye, trickling down her cheek and jaw to drip from the point of her chin. It splashes on Lust's face, just off the corner of her mouth.

Languidly, the homunculus licks her lips, tongue darting out to lap up the red stain.

"You taste good."

Lust's eyes gleam with dark light as she bares her teeth.

"I want more."

Her fingers sharpen to blades and Wu pushes back against her, leaps free. Her voice mingles with Lust's in laughter.

Jill

[ironjill.livejournal.com]

Happy Holidays!

[lilac-scented.livejournal.com]

Due to the very NSFW nature of the present, I uploaded it onto mediafire and will send it to you over PM! You can then decide whether to put it up for sharing.

It's Tony/Pepper CnC2020 angsty Christmas porn! Hell yeah!

I know you were probably expecting Mara/Luke buuuut I know them a lot less and I didn't want to mess it all up so. I hope you like it!

Greer

[kukucrazywild.livejournal.com]

/OFF TO SEE SHERLOCK HOLMES

[noelleno.livejournal.com]

LOVE YA, YOU HIDEOUS MONSTER YOU ♥

TOASTBAT!

[thanatoast.livejournal.com]

yeehaw

[(Anonymous)]

Fic was the only thing I could actually do on your list of prompts; I know you’d like art more but I’m horrible at drawing ): so, have fic! Quote at the end's by Dorothy Allison. NC-17, I suppose.

♦

Their bed is a battleground; their words wars waged. Not even in bed do their guards come down.

Both have something to prove and something to lose. Neither wants to show any weakness or vulnerability, or to admit the other is better in bed. Melee refuses to acknowledge that she thoroughly enjoys the raw strength and almost-viciousness behind his movements, and Hiruma refuses to admit that maybe she’s better on top than he is, as insulting to his own pride as that is. It’s a fight as much as anything else. Both call the other idiot, and a whole array of other colourful things. It's a helpful way of avoiding the question of what exactly they are right now, and why he's in her bed.

Not once is the word love uttered, but the word fuck is said in a countless manner of ways – chiefly as a swear word, an exclamation of pleasure, and to describe what they are doing. They are not making love. They are fucking. And it’s brutal and it’s primal and it’s them.

In the darkness it’s hard to distinguish one from the other. They are two intertwined bodies, rising and falling, gasping and rasping, turning over and over as they battle to be on top. Their entangled limbs flail and press into each other. The sheets are damp with their sweat. Melee, Hiruma thinks, has this goddamn annoying habit of flipping him over forcefully and pinning him down hard, her lean wiry body framing his as she stares down into his face with an unreadable expression on hers. She digs her fingers into his flesh and grips hard, arching in pleasure that she will later deny, and he rakes his claws down her back in response. Hiruma bites with his fangs, marking her neck and collarbone with delightful blossoming bruises that are sure to show by morning and scar by evening. Melee growls, and in that growl is a chilling reminder of the woman who bested the bear in the forest. Hiruma may be a wild animal at the moment but he is no bear, and he gives as good as he gets.

In the silence that follows there is little acknowledgement of what just happened. Hiruma just cackles with that devil-grin and demon-gleam of his and Melee leans back against the headboard with a carefully uninterested look on her face.

“Tch,” she says, “Is that all you got?”

kid

[grindcore.livejournal.com]

uhhh

Part 1/? oh god this is really long sorry

[finchesenroute.livejournal.com]

It was almost Christmas in the City, and the entire place was bristling with holiday cheer—the lampposts were strung with garland, wreaths were mounted to the doorways, and Tony Stark would be struggling with an eggnog problem until January. But at least one relic of autumn remained: Rorschach, quite undead, had been stumbling all over the place for almost a month now.

Rorschach had actually been a zombie since October, when he’d been bitten by an infected policeman during Halloween and turned shortly thereafter. The reason Rorschach hadn’t been cured by the Powers That Be is the exact same reason nobody else had thought to help him—it wasn’t that they didn’t care; it was just that nobody had goddamn noticed.

Actually, Carnage had noticed. Because Carnage had just stabbed him several times, and he was still shambling around as if nothing had happened. Lest anybody mistake this for heroics, it wasn’t. Carnage had just been watching Matlock in his trailer, when somebody next door had started screaming. Irate (the volume didn’t go high enough to cover up the yowling), he grabbed a knife and walked out the door, certain that somebody was going to die. When he saw Rorschach trying to chew up Mrs. Junctivitus, he figured that he was as good as anything, and stabbed him.

And now, Rorschach was wandering around with a knife in his head. Carnage would have killed him earlier, but the handle had gotten tangled on a clothesline, and now it was sort of like he had a zombie dog run in the trailer park, which was fucking amazing. Unfortunately, by the time the commotion had died down Matlock was over, and he was back to being pissed.

“Bullseye!” He screeched. “Gitcher ass out here! I got somethin’ needs shooting!”

Bullseye stumbled out in his boxer shorts into the sunlight and stood amidst the pink flamingoes. “The fuck is that?!”

“Goddamn zombie,” Carnage said. “Shoot it, wouldja? I’m missing TV.”

“That looks like Rorschach.”

“It is Rorschach!”

“Then how come you said he was a zombie?”

“I stabbed him in the head five times, and he’s still walkin’ around. Would you fucking vaporize his head? What the fuck’m I payin’ you for?”

“You don’t.”

“An’ this is why!”

As Mrs. Junctivitus slowly slipped back into her trailer and away from the gay super-villain domestic disturbance, the two continued to argue about how exactly to handle the Ex-Rorschach that was tied up in the yard until they were disrupted by a young voice.

“Oh my goodness gracious!”

“Fuck. Me.” Carnage growled as Mary Marvel came running down the pathway, her cape and hair streaming behind her.

“Mr. Rorschach! I have been looking all over for him!” She cried, screeching to a halt between him and the two villains. “Oh goodness, what happened?”

“He tried eating somebody,” Carnage said. “I couldn’t hear Matlock.”

“You stabbed him?!” Mary shrieked. “Why would you do that?”

“How fucking deaf are you? I just told you, I couldn’t hear Matlock!”

Zen!

[zendequervain.livejournal.com]

♥

B)

[dianoetic.livejournal.com]

MUSICS TO FOLLOW IN A LOCKED POST ON THIS JOURNAL. THIS IS JUST A TEASER 8D (http://i47.photobucket.com/albums/f164/kerchan/fg_snm-1.gif)


(SLIGHTLY NFSW)

Cece

[blackestocean.livejournal.com]

Cece- Prompt: Trapped

[liebe_krieg]

[I'm sorry this sucks I couldn't think of a good ending]

Being one of the Endless, Delirium isn’t exactly what one would call a powerless creature. Older than existence, above gods and demons, the incarnation of a concept fundamental to the continuing functioning (or dysfunction, as the case may be) of all universes everywhere, she knows more and is capable of more than can truly be comprehended by most consciousnesses- indeed, to attempt to understand it all would be an excellent way of making oneself hers forever.

It would be reasonable for a being endowed with such potency to spend a lot of time thinking about it; Delirium, being all that is unreasonable, usually frolics through her existence without giving her nigh-omnipotence a first, second, or third thought. This is for the best. It is for the best because one day, while skipping down a City sidewalk in pursuit of a bird that is also a rat except when it’s a rabbit, Delirium abruptly realizes that she can’t fly away like a bird or scurry away like a rat or hop like a bunny anymore, not here, that she’s trapped in this world by the Porter just like everybody else, the City is a cage and all of a sudden she can feel it pressing down and around her like cold iron bars and she can’t get out-
The bird/rat/bunny is forgotten, and she screams.

***

She’s trapped and she hates it. Delirium isn’t the kind of thing that can be confined; by definition it resists all methods of control and categorization, of sanity and stability. But she has been confined and that’s the fact; plucked from her realm (which she still can’t enter without that Thing trying to rip her apart something that still grates on her) and deposited in the City like the rest of the Porter’s collection.
Which leads her to another, also disturbing revelation. Everyone else is trapped too.

***

Her first instinct is to talk to her sister/brother. Delirium knows that Desire must be just as frustrated- no, more frustrated- as she is with being confined to anything, let alone a particular dimension. Desire speaks to her only shortly, italic-laced words full of condescension and dismissal; it is always busy these days, with Edward Nygma, with Tony Stark, with all its playthings in the City and its plans for them. Still, she feels a little better after talking to it. They are, after all, family.

***

The next step for one of the Endless is to do the same thing every ImPort, from ordinary human to mutant to Cybertronian, seem to do when faced with some question or problem. She makes a post to the Network, seeking insight.

Or at least, she tries to. Shaken by the terrible feeling of entrapment, of cages and cells and locks all around her, Delirium is less together than usual, and what comes out is words upon words tumbling and twisting all over each other, frightening and incoherent. Some of the people on the communicator are concerned for her, some make fun of her, some try to understand and help. It’s all useless and the noise (even from those using text) is too much and she’s still trapped, so she throws away her communicator and goes away, to an alleyway where there’s smashed glass that sparkles like fish scales and sings with its points. She curls up next to the glass and thinks about her realm and tries not to feel the chains all over her.
***
She gets better, eventually. Whether they’re machines, gods, humans, elves or Endless, every ImPort gets better eventually. They all adjust to their abductions and begin forging new lives, new careers, new connections in the City. Delirium has already been doing these things for months, but because she is Delirium, the full implications of why she was doing them had slipped by, around, and through her all at once. But also because she is Delirium, it does not last. She has endured far worse things, been than being trapped, after all.

The Endless adjusts just as a mortal would, and is soon chasing her fish once again. But ever so often she feels something like rope around her skin, and shivers.

ZEROOOOOOOOOOOOO

[expletives]

... OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

ZEROOOOOOOOOOOOO

[kukucrazywild.livejournal.com]

YOU WIN THIS AND THE OPTION OF HAVING ME REDO THIS SOB HER HAIR IS SO HARD FOR ME