Posts tagged nem is a cyborg.
completelysane asked: "I like to believe that there is a brown-haired boy," Wash said, "and that Maine babysits, and that he and I have arguments about who's going to teach him about guns." "You're trying to seduce me with Firefly again, aren't you?" said Connie. "Yes. Is it working?" "You know, they never thought they'd get back together after that reunion." "I know." "It's working."
I should also post this one because it makes me illegal amounts of happy and Nem you are seriously aweosme. And I love you because you’re awesome but mostly because you’re Nem. Wash/CT and Firefly. Yes. Good.
completelysane asked: He couldn't cook to save his life, so in the Mother of Invention after York had made a three-course breakfast for himself and Carolina and North, Wash would burn something for Connie and they would usually laugh at it more than actually eating it. In Sandtrap, he unlocked her handcuffs for long enough to let her eat a ration bar and she spit the last half-chewed bite of it back at him. At home, after everything, they learned to cook together enough to feed their daughter.
This is the best headcanon, because it’s Wash being well-meaning but ultimately a bit useless, and then Sandtrap and them being angry, and then happy family and them being alright. Yes.
RvB: meeting with externals
Ree texted me: Hey baby won’t you look my way/ I can be your new addiction/ hey baby what you gotta say/ all you’re giving me is fiction” from CT’s POV
Connie started tracking Wash soon after he started tracking her. He was not trained for the cyber subterfuge which with she started her deception but he began to follow his rules to his best ability, visiting the Director and the Counselor, and looking for her after. He was good at making it seem like an accident.
It helped that most of the things he did were accidents: a happenstance meeting in a hall, a wrong turn, one or other of them migrating toward familiar spaces. At first it was cute, and seeing him would lighten her no matter what metal plates weighted down her footsteps.
Then she sent the first transmission out, narrow bandwidth and coded in four separate ciphers designed to make it look as much like audible space junk as possible, and somehow he knew.
He knew from the way she stood at the terminal, or he knew from the things the Director told him. She could imagine Wash sniffing out strange waves in space like a detective digging through trash. He would trace every item to its origin, carefully catalog it by age.
So she started putting out signals she knew he would find.
I love how you write these two so much. I’ve told you before, but you are literally the reason I started shipping them, and every time I read a fic of yours, I remember why. This is just wonderful.
“You had Omega?” Carolina tipped her head at the purple-armored soldier. He didn’t look like any medic she’d seen before.
“Oh, yeah.” Doc waved a hand. “Me and him, we go way back.”
Carolina felt her vision tunneling. Just this purple layabout and her, and everything that the mention of Omega brought back. “I thought only Texas - only Freelancers, in the program, were given AI.”
Doc shook his head. “No, I, we got along great! We compared strategies for saving world energy…I wanted to build more houses just like this one!” He gestured behind him. “He wanted to kill all the people who used electricity.”
I love the idea of all of this. And Doc. I really do love Doc.
too much radio
New lyrics I will be singing along always and forever.
Also, now I really want to take this whole song as a prompt for these two because it’s really…I like it. It fits. Because I am the sad miner.
I woke up with this in my head
“You would have liked it,” Carolina said quietly, looking down at the scorched flagstones. “I met that guy, you know? Grif, from that stupid sport.”
UGH WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY
(and by that I mean thank you)
RvB Sandtrap, from the prompt list a while ago
She woke up with his mask in her hands, one of her arms stiff with pins and needles from being held underneath it, and condensation from her breath dotting the visor. She didn’t remember being curled like this when she fell asleep.
Love this. Love this so much in every possible way <3 Wash and CT and punching and helmets, you’ve got everything in this one fic and it’s glorious.
I love their fight. And I love how she gets a glimpse of the Wash she remembers. I love how they come together, desperately, out of a memory, and I love it when he doesn’t relax just because she’s there, when the illusion of the memory shatters so completely.
I love how she wakes up with his helmet.
And I love how it all ends.
I love this.
“I think they’re watching us, Wash. I don’t know where the cameras are, but they must be.”
“Here? Now?” He’s sitting on the edge of her bed with his shirt hanging on by one sleeve and his first thought is to pull it back over his head. Instead, she takes it from him and tosses it away.
“No. Probably not. But out in the training floor, in the mess…everywhere.”
“We’re training then. They’re supposed to be.”
“When we’re active, yeah.” She slides her legs onto the bed, her skin smooth and pale. She looks up at him from under her lashes, looking falsely defenseless: she’s like a knife sheathed, sharp iron under soft leather. “But I’m starting to think the numbers on the board don’t just tally our kills and our times. They change between missions too. He’s looking at what we do socially, where we do…I don’t know, Wash. Maybe this is all a big psych test.”
The first thing he thinks is “That sounds like science fiction,” and because he knows she’ll get the reference he says it. He makes it sound consoling.
She looks over at him, eyes bright and her hair falling across her cheek in thin waterfall strands. “We live on a spaceship, dear,” she says, and leans forward to kiss his cheek.
I love this. All of it. Firefly and Wash go together (and it might even be canon!)
I love all of your descriptions of CT in this. A sheathed knife, smooth and pale skin, and waterfall strands of hair.
I love that he thinks in Firefly quotes (like me) and when he’s around people who would get it, he says them.
And I love how sweet and happy this is and yes.
I am Nem’s inner monologue
This, and the tag you have for it, is just perfect. This is exactly the kind of writing I absolutely love to read, sometimes (when done as well as this), even more so than all of my fantasy and science fiction and escapes.
I love the bit about the architect. And the way the tag is just the perfect ending to it all.
I would love to see more of this from you. More of this all the time. :)
The flight is long and Wash is nearly asleep, his chin resting on the inside of his helmet, when York asks if they’re parking. Looking aside Wash sees that York had adopted a nearly identical pose as himself. On the other side of the bay, the twins are relaxed back against their restraints, chins up.
So Wash isn’t quite awake when 479 announces that they’re about to drop like a rock, and she snaps at him immediately when he responds to her. He almost opens his mouth to snap back, but Delta pops up and the details of the mission come flooding back. Insurrection base. Retrieval mission. No need to leave anybody alive.
Wash starts to make an excuse to 479, to save face, but then the rhythm of the words make him hear other ones so clearly in his head:
Don’t make excuses for me. I’m not making excuses for myself.
I really love that you wrote about that one moment, because I noticed it too and thought it odd and now this is on my dash and
and this is headcanon’d so fucking hard, seriously.
Nem, how do you always know how to be so incredibly excellent in life?
This is just gorgeous. I love every word, and love how you strung them all together even moreso (which is an achievement, believe me).
completelysane asked: I wrote you a thing! I'd put it in your ask but apparently links are against protocol.
This message is too amazing to not share with the rest of tumblr because I literally laughed for a couple minutes straight at it this morning. :D
Happy Birthday, Reeberry!
Reeeee I wrote you a fic because you are the best Ree. Thank you for being awesome, and happy birthday, and all the best in your new location.
“Hey guys,” Donut asked cheerfully, “Have you seen my thing?”
“What thing?” Grif grumbled, and Wash nearly turned on his heel and walked right back out of Red Base before Donut continued.
“My notebook. I left it on my bunk.”
“Oh, that,” said Grif. “I may have used a page to mop up a spill.”
Grif tossed a slightly damp notebook at Donut, who sighed hugely as he flipped through the pages. The notebook was pink with pony stickers all over. Wash kept standing at the top of the ramp leading down into Red Base, feeling more out of the loop than usual.
Donut did not seem too phased by Grif. “You rubbed out some of the ink! Luckily I already transferred that part to the internet.” Donut hugged the notebook to his chest and started to walk out.
WASH AND DONUT GEEKING OUT OVER FANFIC.
Oh and the last line. And and and. And everything. EVERYTHING.
Thank you <3<3<3
completelysane asked: “You’re blonde,” Connie had said with some surprise the first time they nearly fell into a supply closet, and Wash was worried about this because his appearance hadn’t really been important earlier. She was all over his mask and the flat planes of the armor, and admittedly they had started because he had moved a strand of her hair aside to look at the freshly cut port on the back of her neck....
NEM FIC IN MY ASKBOX. TRAGIC SUPPLY CLOSET WASH/CT AND CT AND HELMETS AND BLONDE WASH AND THIS IS ON CAPSLOCK FOR A VERY VERY VERY GOOD REASON AND AND AND
And thank you <3 So much. This definitely really brightened my night :)