Hanceome week

The HANCEOME BIG BANG sign-ups are open!!

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In short: writers sign up to write a fic of at least 10,000 words, and artists will claim those fics and draw at least two pieces of art.  When posting begins on the assigned dates, both artists and writers will post their works at the same time.  Check out our schedule for more info!

Writers sign up here; this form will close on February 28

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Can’t wait to see you all!

@hanceomeweek day 7: marriage

I’m currently making a pic for hunk’s bday but tbh… I couldn’t resist drawing these bois in some cute dresses :’3c

@hanceomeweek day 3: firsts

I’m that One Motherfucker who always goes for first kiss IT’S JUST SUCH A SWEET MOMENT TO THINK ABOUT ;o;

@hanceomeweek day 2: sunlight + animals

just felt like making a cute outdoors type of scene?? :’3c I feel like they’d adopt like 10 cats honestly…. 

Hanceome Week, Day 2: Sunlight

My submission of @hanceomeweek Day 2~♥

Day 2, January 8: Animals - Weapons - Sunlight  Also available on AO3.

A sudden, soft golden glow in the usually cool dimness of Lance’s room roused him from his slumber. He stretched languidly, lifting his arms high above his head, the tips of his fingers brushing the cool metal of the wall as he stifled a yawn. He blinked his eyes open, squinting against the light filtering in through the quartz glass of his window – or the Altean equivalent, he supposed.

No wonder the room seemed so bright. They were passing very closely by a sun. Well, not so close as would be dangerous, but closer than usual. It was rare to look out the window and see anything but billions and billions of stars. So, the warm sunlight on his face was a welcome change.

He closed his eyes, feeling nostalgic. This sun reminded him of Earth’s. And if he tried hard enough, he could imagine that the gentle whirring of the ship in its night cycle was the sound of distant waves sloshing.

A moment later, a shadow fell over him. He opened his eyes to find the sun eclipsed by a nearby planet. Lance sighed, missing the warmth already. Artificial light just wasn’t the same.

There was a stirring behind him, followed by two arms, thick and warm, wrapping themselves around his waist. “Lance?” Hunk croaked, his voice raspy from sleep. “Wassamatter?”

Lance smiled and turned around in his boyfriend’s embrace, burying his face in the juncture of his neck and shoulder. “Just stargazing,” he breathed against his skin, reveling in the heat of it.

“Oh yeah?” Hunk murmured, the sound making his throat vibrate under Lance’s nose, tickling it.

“Mhm,” he replied, burrowing closer. Just then, the ship pulled past the planet and the room was filled once more with golden sunlight.

“Wow,” Hunk whispered in awe. “Lance, you’ve got to see this.”

Chuckling against Hunk’s neck, Lance pulled back and glanced over his shoulder. When he turned to face Hunk again, his breath caught in his throat. The warm beams were cascading onto Hunk’s skin, illuminating it. Even his eyes shined like molten gold. And, not for the first time, Lance thought his boyfriend looked absolutely gorgeous.

How had he gotten so lucky? Even in the dark, stillness of space, he’d somehow found his own ray of sunshine. Though, that cliché thought made his cheeks burn with embarrassment. Perhaps he’d keep that little tidbit to himself for now.

Hunk was still looking out the window, his features soft as a fond smile curved his lips. “It reminds you of home, doesn’t it?”

And Lance, whose gaze hadn’t left his boyfriend’s face, smiled in return. “Yeah,” he sighed, moving to lean his head on Hunk’s shoulder. “It does.”

Lance tries to impress Hunk with his cooking. The results are…varied.

Day 1: Domestic Space Food

“I’m Hunk Garrett, by the way. Kind of an overdue thing to mention.”

Lance says nothing as he rubs his chin thoughtfully. “Were your parents seers?”

“No?”

My submission for @hanceomeweek Day 1! Also available on AO3.

Day 1, January 7: Domestic - Space - Food 

Hunk was just giving his sauce one last taste test when he heard the all too familiar jingling of keys and the lock to their front door release as it clicked open. He put his spoon down on the rest and wiped his hands off on his apron – the one his boyfriend had oh-so-thoughtfully gotten him after he’d accidentally spilled an entire bottle of balsamic vinegar on the other one. This one read Mr. Good Lookin’ is Cookin’ and it never failed to make Hunk smile when he put it on.

Something akin to an aggravated growl drifted into the kitchen from the living room, followed by the telltale sound of someone flopping onto the couch.

“Lance,” Hunk called, growing concerned. “You all right in there?” When he didn’t immediately receive a response, Hunk removed his apron and hung it on the hook before poking his head around the corner. “Lance?”

A muffled groan was all he got in return.

Hunk sighed, his brows knitting together. Work had been especially stressful for Lance lately. He was finally making a name for himself, but all the extra responsibility meant longer hours and, more often than not, unsolicited overtime.

Padding over to the couch, Hunk lifted his boyfriend’s feet and situated himself beneath them, letting Lance’s shins fall back to rest on his lap. Lance was still on his belly, his face shoved into one of the throw pillows.

“Bad day?” Hunk guessed and Lance’s pitiful moan was answer enough. “Hey, cheer up,” he said, rubbing his hands soothingly over the backs of Lance’s legs. “I made pasta and sauce,” he offered, giving his calf a squeeze.

“Hunk…” Lance pulled his face out of the pillow and whined. “I can’t do this anymore.”

Raising his brows, Hunk prompted him. “Do what?”

“This job,” he said, flipping over so he was facing him. “I…got passed over for promotion again.”

Oh. So, that’s what this was all about.

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