#just kids who didn’t make the cut of their ‘perfect Victor’

[daughter-of-eve-narnian-queen]

I want to know about the mentor for Rue and Trash. I want them to be looking at someone who was just like them and for the Victor to know, panem never quits. So I had an idea.

The mentor for district 11 is a female, but she’s young, really young. She won the 66th hunger games at thirteen and is now barely twenty two. The capitol lied about her age because Finnick was an easier person to market off because Willow, the tribute turned Victor, suffered many scars from her times in the games. She thought she would never have the stomach to be a mentor, not after how brutalistic her games were. But she couldn’t send kids just like her off to die.

And now here she was. Staring into the eyes of a sixteen year old boy who had accepted becoming a murderer and a twelve year old child whose main skill was climbing trees. And she was supposed to teach them how to survive, to be interesting. But both of them had already accepted their fate. Rue knew she was going to die without help and Thrash was just angry at everyone.

So Willow spent the last two normal weeks this kids had getting to know them. Getting to know that their only desire was to screw over the capitol. That two children were going to die and no matter how much training she pumped into them, no matter how much survival instinct she force fed them, these children were going to die.

And so when they ask about her games she tells them. How could she refuse. She tells them about the jagged rocks and tundra-like scape that made you rely on the Capitol more than any other arena. How, since she wasn’t a favorite, she had to kill her fellow tributes and steal their gifts instead, just praying that she could survive one day longer. She told them how she got low, really low, and that when the waterfalls swept away her and the other tributes and she survived just a moment longer she wanted to fall on the rocks herself. She told them about how the capitol took her out and made her lie about her age. How she would read and draw for capitol citizens and how she wasn’t desirable enough to be bought, thankfully.

And then they go into the arena. And they survive the first few days. And she holds out some form of hope. She holds it in her heart that maybe one of those kids were going to home home and she could help them through the rest of their lives but at least their blood wouldn’t be on her hands anymore.

Then Rue dies. And her heart breaks. Cause this kid, this little girl, was only a year younger than she was when she won her games. And she can’t help but think if the arena had been slightly different the kid might be alive. But Thrash is still breathing.

Then Thrash spares Katniss. And at that moment Willow knew, she knew that he would die. Because Willow had seen the horrors of the Capitol and knew that anyone who helped the girl on fire would wind up dead. And he did.

But then Katniss and Peeta win. Dual victors. And she can’t help but think that it should have been Rue and Thrash. Or that Willow herself should be standing with the boy from her district, a kid she went to school with, a kid she didn’t even get to say goodbye to. Dual survivors. It was unheard of.

But Willow can’t be mad at these kids. They’re victims as much as anyone else was. So, when she got home to victors village in district 11 she sat down at her desk. She sat down for a while just thinking. She had won her games because she was vicious, because she was cunning, but most importantly because she had nothing to loose. And that helped her more than anyone could imagine. So she took out a pen and wrote down seven words.

She hadn’t joined a rebellion because she was a mentor, the kids she trained could suffer for her actions. But she just witnessed the rules change. She witnessed a twelve year old girl get killed because of something their ancestors did. And she wasn’t a stranger to their deaths, she had been a mentor for two years already. But something about the rules changing for the ‘star-crossed lover’, but not changing for a child broke something in her. So she dropped the note at the outskirts of district 11 and never looked back.

Come get me, the viper is waiting.

[lesharl-eclair]

strollonso fic recs part 1: fics

4 fics from authors who have just the one strollonso fic, and who somehow added SO MUCH to the genre. whose other works are equally insanely mindblowing (the charles/bono fic that i am still not oVER BY THE WAY... the painfully high-quality webbonso. charlos and landoscar.) im crying how do you guys do it (these fics actually changed my life i am not kidding:

all fics below the cut; if you enjoyed these fics, please show the authors comment and kudo love; should you be the author of a fic that's here, and don't want to be here, please reach out to me and your wish is my command :)

victor's spoil by venerat (E, 1.9k)

Two hours later Lance is told he’s going to the winner’s room. “Oh,” Lance says stupidly. "Uh. Me? Now?”

ouUEGHHGEUGHHH the rancid vibes. it's all mind games here. lance's desperation vs nando's casual (playful????!!!) viciousness.

the attention to detail is so stunning. the way the scene is set, the inherent power imbalance, lance so eager to please it's almost painful to watch....

"Even when Fernando aims it warmly, it still makes Lance shiver. That’s because Lance, of course, is fucked up. He’s already getting hard between his legs, just because Fernando chose him. Just from being here, from the anticipation of knowing his role. From the uncertainty of sitting there, waiting." im sobbign <3

this one rearranged my brain a lot. one of my favourite renditions of their dynamic.

***

in the hold by @pressurizer2 (M, 1.9k)

Lance scrunches his nose and makes a noise of protest as soon as Fernando’s hand leaves his ankle.

im still reeling at this concept okay. i havent gotten over it yet i don't think my review is sufficient to describe how good this is but can we talk about this like

"Mouth open and sucking in air, trying his best to keep quiet, Lance feels both compressed and torn apart by the intensity of Fernando’s attention, redirected. He’s being talked about, but not talked to. Praised but not acknowledged. Lifted up high and pushed down hard." such a waaay with words!!!! i am very extremely enamoured.

the push and pull here is perfect: bratty lance (<3) trying to elicit a reaction, nando willing to indulge despite his discipline (he's actually so into it.....it's all a game for him.......uuuueegeghheheu.....) the way tension is built and released is so so masterful and a delight from start to finish :)

***

A Little Bit of Exhibition by @sweetpeapoppy (M, 5.1k)

He’d heard all of the rumours about the way Fernando operated in Formula One, how ruthless he was, how he terrorised his teammates, how he would grind you down until you doubted your own abilities. Lance knew he didn’t need that. But he also knew he didn’t have a choice either, Fernando was coming to Aston Martin whether he liked it or not.

nando as an exhibitionist is...something. how he draws lance in to do the most brazen things, how lance is powerless to resist, is such a tantalising prospect. lawrence's obliviousness makes me want to shake my head patronisingly ("Lawrence agreed, feeling grateful he had another driver pairing that were getting along." ??????? ?????) this fic really shines because of all the details (sweater paws?? hand on nape??? the actual db12 feature???) the "canon compliance" makes your concept so true to life and now i can't unsee it.

the thing that stayed with me was the image of nando bent over the car. it still makes me lose my shit to think about.

***

I make two grand an hour by @kritischetheologie (E, 3.1k)

Lawrence had made Lance read an entire fucking book on this history of Formula 1 before he started the job, and all Lance could remember from the 2000’s was the German guy who won all of them, before the other German guy started winning all of them. But still, who did this guy think he was, trying a line like that on him? Aston Martin wasn’t the type of team that could hire a double world champion. “Michael Schumacher won in 2005,” he said, trying to project more confidence than he felt. “Nice try.”

BRATTY LANCE. I MIGHT ACTUALLY CRY

the voicing is nailed doWN to a tee and i am thriving. there is one very interesting roscoe related comparison in there that i will not be forgetting any time soon. this ticks all the boxes for me - backstory, characterisation, humour, there is even Plot !!

also love the offhand mention of glance.....they could have been together in another universe..... "Everyone was short except for George Russell, who was both tall and fast. Why couldn’t his father have invested in Mercedes instead?"

this author brings so much delight and depth to every single one of the pairings she writes about, and i will not be forgetting about this any time soon.

***

that's all for today :) i DO have more strollonso fic recs on the way so keep your eyes peeled if you like what you see !!

if you enjoyed this, or if i missed any fic, please let me know :) drop me an ask mayhaps if you would like more fic recs, and i will try my best to give timely unqualified opinions <3

[cyndrastic]

aight update on the future au:

polls not over yet but it’s leaning heavily at McCormick, so i’ll give you my pcov designs and some headcanons for the McCormick parents rn cause out of all the adults they’re my favs 💕💖

i love them so much you don’t understand (also surprise surprise Kenny married Butters [changed his name to Vic], no one could have ever guessed that considering one of my first art posts on this account was a bunny comic 🙄)

anyway they both have mullets cause i just really like mullets, and Vic shaved the side of her head cause that’s my headcanon of what butter’s hair is in the show (cause his little tomato puff makes no sense) and i feel like he would have kept those.

more details and explanations for some things under the cut (aka im ranting about my fav characters and how they work as a couple with little bits of au lore sprinkled in)

Vic-

you may notice i’m jumping back and forth between he and she for Vic, and that’s cause he uses she/he. Don’t get me wrong, I love Butters and Marjorine, but i’ve seen the argument between them so many times. “Butters is a Cis guy!” “Marj is a trans girl!” fuck it Vic is a gnc icon and picks whatever gender he wants depending on whatever the fuck he wants and he’s hot both masc and fem. and i mean very hot. Butters in the show gets a couple descriptive things, namely in the “It’s Butters!” song hes said to have dimples, and more importantly when his father thinks he’s wearing his mom’s makeup when he’s not. that means this kids got perfectly flushed cheeks, nice eyelashes and eyebrows, and unblemished porcelain skin even at 8 years old. that paired with his blonde hair and presumably blue eyes (i’ve never met a blondie without blue eyes), emphasized cheek bones we see in the pcov special (implying he’s got a more slender face and likely more slender and long figure in general, which is the what literal modeling agents tend to look for btw [i would know my grandma and mom were models because they were both pretty with thin frames and lanky limbs]), and the scar over his left eye makes him insanely attractive.

the scar especially gives him something to stand out with; make people remember him (sometimes he even takes out his glass eye just so people get a good look at his empty socket and that image can be seared into their brains). being androgynous also helps make everyone, whether they’re attracted to men or women, find him hot. no one even knows if Vic is short for Victor or Victoria, and that’s the point. also due to how he grew up in this au (spoiler alert, Vic’s life was awful for a lot of years between beginning of high school and when he reconnected with Kenny as an adult [that’s an understatement Vic is by far the most traumatized character in this au]), he doesn’t feel particularly comfortable with being on one perfect end of the gender spectrum; girl or boy. So no matter how he’s presenting, he’s always going to look somewhat androgynous.

Kenny-

Kenny is kinda the same, i just wanted him to look more cool and unhinged. I got rid of the full beard cause i can’t draw it and also hated it, but i added snake bites cause they’re cool. I also got rid of the beer on his shirt cause I feel like after being raised by two alcoholic assholes he wouldn’t drink much as an adult. oh yeah and he’s a he/they now cause you can’t tell me princess kenny didn’t awaken something in him. i feel like he would go to a fancy award ceremony for some massive science breakthrough in a gown. he’s the typa guy to accept some prestigious award for his scientific findings in a slutty silk dress. Basically everything I changed in Kenny’s design was to make him look more like the wacky uncle who gives children weapons (spoilers he is). i kept how the pcov specials made his stockier cause honestly i just like him a little bit bigger. I feel like that’s a treat to himself. he spent so long in a home where he’d probably have to starve some night cause they couldn’t afford to eat, so when he becomes an extremely successful adult, he can give himself the luxury of eating three meals a day or eating junk food that was too expensive for him. he can finally afford to be a little bit heavier; it’s just proof that he’s made it this far from where he came. He’s also more of a mad scientist in this au a la Dr. Mephesto, but far more ethical in what/how he runs experiments.

both-

Their dynamic and characterization in this au is by far the most fleshed out because of how much I like these two characters, and it’s genuinely my favorite couple in the au. I might make a whole separate post on how they operate as parents because they’re both so horrifically worried that they may accidentally follow in their own parents footsteps. Yknow, generational trauma and whatnot. They’re also both insanely unhinged. Both of them are just balls of the walls crazy, which stems from both of them being traumatized (i mentioned Vic is the most traumatized in this au, Kenny is the second most cause of dying thousands of times over his whole life).

Kenny has lost all grasp of physical or mortal fear cause by this time in his life he’s died so much he’s lost any sense of connection to injury, even to other people. It’s difficult for him to register that other people are mortal because it’s such a foreign concept to him, and that can lead to some issues in the lab given that it’s such a dangerous place to work. Meanwhile, Vic has the people she cares about, and has a hard time grasping that people she doesn’t care about aren’t just stepping stones. She was used her whole life, then used and hurt people as an adult (yes she was an NFT bro, no she’s not anymore), but now she has a hard time not snapping back into the NFT thing and scheming every cent out of whoever gave her a dirty look at Walmart. Kenny and Vic can and generally do help each other out with these things, but they can also be each others worst instigators (“oh yeah you should absolutely do that consequences be damned” “no he had it coming to him don’t worry” “yeah fuck him up! beat his ass!” typa shit. they support each other non-conditionally but sometimes that leads to them getting arrested).

[annonniiiiieeeee]

a few things about ur hunger games au

1. i think leo being tortured and forced into giving up rebel strategies makes more sense than him being hijacked

2. in the books, peeta looses his leg from the cut from the sword, mona as your stand in for peeta would she loose her leg to something similar?

1) I agree with you

When I first white it out I was like ya they both get hijacked but now I think it should just be Mona

Mona and Raph are the problem. There win was a rebellious win. Two people aren’t suppose to survive. There win made people believe they would defy the capital. They are the problem

Having one of the famed lovers making propaganda for the capital and publicly denouncing their partner is going to pull in the country’s heart strings

It’s also the perfect way to torture Raph.

On the other hand Leo’s victory wasn’t rebellious. Sure they might have suspected him of being capable of treason but he hadn’t done anything yet. He only sold the story of star crossed lovers. He didn’t come up with the plan to defy the capital.

His relationship with Usagi (though they aren’t exactly together yet) is private. The capital knows because Leo was under surveillance (I think they watch all victors their first year mentoring to see if they are rebellious)

The public doesn’t know Leo and Usagi were interested in each other. There might have been rumors but nothing concrete like Raph and Mona.

Hijacking Leo might hurt Raph but Leo is far better at strategy. Mona is smart and a good warrior but Leo is a mastermind. He showed that in his game. He would be more useful with his mind in tacked.

Still deciding on the permanent damage from the torture.

2) I haven’t decided yet.

I’m still figuring out their game. I know they don’t stick together in the beginning. They don’t team up until the announcement of two victors

I don’t know if mona would join a career pack and I know Raph wouldn’t.

I know Raph tried to help a young tribute from district 3 but the kid gets killed.

But besides that I’m still planning their game.

They defiantly have scars and one of them gets a permanent injury I’m just not sure who or what that would be yet.

[joysmercer]

ok godly parents hc let’s go:

all the americans are roman bc it just makes sense w the context of the show. nina pluto (bc as someone in the notes said, poor girl is constantly followed by creepy things), eddie neptune (mostly because he has big percy energy lol), kt jupiter (she reminds me of jason and also big 3 kids!!!)

sweet’s actually neptune and told eddie’s mom to keep him away from camp for a while because the roman’s don’t really care for the sea, and when eddie arrives neptune pretty much ignores him. idk how this fits into the broader “he was victors protégé and jerome’s dads friend” thing but 🤷‍♀️

benji is a child of mars and legacy of poseidon but unlike frank zhang, he spends most of his time antagonizing eddie by turning into birds and pooping on his head

joy is also roman, except she’s at chb, until one day she disappears and shows up at cj with no memory of what happened to her. nina’s found (by chb satyrs) soon after, and victor deduces what happened but keeps his mouth shut, but that explains why he doesn’t seem to care about joys disappearance. anyway, joy’s a daughter of ceres, gifted with the power to make things grow even in the most barren of deserts, but also a grandchild of nemesis through her dad, who liked to pretend he wasn’t a demigod. (so naturally there’s a natural grudge against pluto/hades and a tendancy to hold it) (and naturally, being “almost greek,” the few people who knew of both camps just assumed she was, especially because her dad dropped her off)

but neither she nor nina are claimed until the camps meet each other, so when she disappears she’s still in hermes/unclaimed, and when she reappears nina is still in the process of moving out of there

no explanations needed: amber aphrodite, fabian athena, jerome and alfie hermes, willow hecate (but in the unclaimed cabin until the start of “s3”)

patricia athena (this is mostly to indulge my own rosa-diaz-ravenclaw hc while also making the perfect percabeth, but also she definitely has the most strategic mind out of all of them when she isn’t getting caught up in her own emotions…much like annabeth)

piper’s a gifted mathematician and because music and math go together, she develops a passion for that as well. the apollo kids don’t understand it, the athena kids definitely don’t, and mr. williamson is just glad only one of his kids is running around with swords all day.

mara…aphrodite. partially because having three athena kids is too much, but mostly because she may be smart, but that isn’t her gift: her true power, and her fatal flaw, is seeing people’s capacities for love, and capacities for change, before they’re capable of recognizing it—-or even ready to—themselves.

amber doesn’t really have a power though and it drives her nuts that mara does, however useless it may be.

it also drives her nuts nuts joy does.

mick apollo. blonde, athletic, definitely capable of writing terrible poetry.

victor dionysius. he’s forced by his dad to become the (reluctant) caretaker of chb partially because mr d didn’t want to but mostly because victor was caught trying to make an elixir to reanimate corbierre and and it was decided that that’s a bit too weird, even for a child of the god of madness

trudy is mortal with the Sight— originally a huntress but not cut out for the hunt life, so with artemis’s blessing she just hangs out at camp and helps hestia and stops the harpies from eating the children

sarah was the oracle before she died, but also a legacy:

rfs was the son of hypnos just because i think that’s funny enough to bend the rules for

rufus was a zeus, hermes, and ares legacy and pissed off about it bc he got no powers despite having the blood of three different gods in his veins

so anyway peddie chb au when

[worminstuff]

dreamsmp mcmh

dreamsmp members as teachers au: blrub edition!

mcmh = Minecraft middle and high school

no warnings:)

wordcount: 3.9k

I will also definitely take requests from now on with this teacher au! Weather it be reader x teacher bla bla or whichever teacher and whatever prompt you think of! Just plop em in my inbox and I’ll check em out! I may not get to all of them or even see them all but I’ll try!

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

Mr.Wastaken - math

“The quadratic equation isn't useless, you just don't understand it. Here,” the students glared at the diss from their teacher. Dream turned his back to them as he attempted to draw another diagram on the board.

He took a quick glance behind him at all the kids, he was only met with empty stares.

“Oh come on- guys! Really?” he laughed slightly, a wheeze crawling up his throat. They looked angry at him. “You all look like kicked puppies.”

One of the boys in the back kicked his friend. “Jared!” said friend threw his pencil at him.

“Okay well obviously we seem to be done with math today..” Dream sighed and shook his head slightly as everyone watched the fiasco in the back. He’ll step in. In a minute.

“If you throw the pencil by holding it by one end not in the middle, it'll spin more.” he called to the boys in the back. 

Mr.Blade - english

“Did anyone have any trouble or anything with the paired text writing last night?” his arms were folded on his chest, not in an angry or off putting way, his hands were just cold.

“Yeah actually I-” one student started,

“The rubric is the link under the one for the document template.” he  prematurely answered, a soft grin gracing his features.

“How did you?..” the student tilted their head in confusion. 

“You ask the same question every time.” Mr.Blade shrugged and everyone laughed softly.

Techno loved the little community that was his class, he's had them for about 3 months now so he's gotten to know them really well. This little bunch was incredibly creative and he really enjoys reading their assignments. 

Mr.Blade sat down on the edge of his desk and slid his still cold hands into his pocket, scanning the small group of kids in front of him.

“Is anyone having any trouble?” He tried to seem nice as he asked because he didn't want to come off as pushy. There was a chorus of yes’ and techno grinned.

“Well as you all know, as Sun Tzu once said-”

Before he could finish his sentence he was cut off by a series of groans and sighs as everyone rolled their eyes.

Techno smiled to himself. He really did love his job.

Mr.Jacobs - history

“Amy!” Karl excitedly grinned and dapped up a small girl walking into his class, “Was that extra credit assignment i sent pretty easy or was it too hard? I can switch it up if you don't like it.”

Amy told him it was fairly easy and she would be done with it very soon.

“No rush ames!” he said as he craned his neck a bit to look at her as she sat in her chair.

He was just about to step into his classroom as the bell rang, but a certain hand tugged on his forearm.

“Hey!- oh hi nick.” Karl's smile grew. Sapnap smiled but shook his head softly, “I've got a class this period but I wanted to come say hi first.”

Karl giggled, “simp!” he whispered before turning to quickly walk into his class.

Everyone was excitedly sitting in their chairs, talking about due assignments and anything else they could think of.

“Good morning everyone! Hello, hello, hello i hope your other teachers have treated you well this morning and if they haven't then that's okay cause you're here now.” he pointed finger guns at the bunch of them and then grabbed the remote to turn on the smart board.

Mr.Quack/Mr.Q - Spanish 

“Hola mi niños!” Quackity smiled widely at the bunch of  kids sitting in front of him, there was a chorus of answers from the excited kids. Many of them were in the “wrong seats” as to sit with friends because today, today was kahoot day.

Every Friday was kahoot day where they always do some type of kahoot whether it be related to the lesson or not and everyone was always excited.

Especially kids who have PE before this class, the coach's competitiveness really sticks.

No one hypes these kids up more than Mr.Quack, which causes for the occasional noise complaint.

“Aye! Mr español! Keep it down here you spanish gremlins.” Mr.Dude pressed his head through the doorway scolding the class, the students erupted into a large fit of laughter only causing their volume to rise.

“You can’t put a volume warning on learning Sam! We're popping off!” Quackity yelled over the laughter of his students.

Mrs.Nihachu - art

“Oh my goodness! This is beautiful!” Mrs.Nihachu flashed a sweet smile to the student in front of her. She was handed a small doodle of a flower and she was already pinning it on the board beside her desk.

Her class was currently working on their test grade assignments, some making sculptures with cardboard or paper mache, some making clay creations, others painting. It was a big jumble of chaotic creativeness and nikki was enjoying it thoroughly.

Her class was often chaotic in this way, but during lunch time it was much calmer. There was a small group of students that would eat in her room to escape the crazy chaos of the lunchroom, and she enjoyed it as much as them.

She loved to listen in on the current drama and give advice where she could, they were her little buddies and she adored them.

Coach Sapnap & Coach Punz - PE

The sound of a whistle was no stranger to this classroom, or rather, this gymnasium. There was only one whistle, and two teachers. Both coaches made it ritual that whoever got there first would get it for the day.

Today, Coach Sapnap happened to get the whistle first.

“Okay kiddos-” coach Punz was cut off by the blaring sound of the whistle beside him.

“Airtight Kiddos!” Coach Sapnap clapped happily as all the students turned their attention towards the two Coaches. “It's kickball day,” he grinned deviously as the students cheered.

Both of them directed the class to one end of the gym to split them into teams.

“Okay so we’ll pick two team captains, and then they'll go back and forth picking their team and then once everyone's picked, the team captains can rock paper scissors to pick which one of us you want on your team.” Punz explained and everyone nodded.

sapnap picked one of the smaller girls in the class as one captain, and another kid standing near her as the other. Both of the kids picked through the class until it was separated into two groups.

“Okay! Ready?” they both nodded. “Rock, paper, scissors, shoot!” the girl had picked rock, and the other kid picked scissors. Immediately the victor pointed to Punz with a small smile.

Punz’s arms shot up in the air “Aye! That's right! Gimme five!” he high fived her small hand.

sapnap smiled and shook his head, “no this works out perfect because i know you guys were hoping for me on your team, right?” sapnap joked to his team, one boy jokingly piped up,

“well..Coach punz is ideal but, you're okay too.” the whole class erupted into laughter until Sapnap blew his whistle ushering them to start the game already.

Mr.Notfound - engineering 

“Mr.Notfound where are the extension cords for the soddering table?” George currently had his freshman period and they were working on a lightboard project. Today's task was soldering the leds to the correct wires and such on the back of the projects.

“Em..they should be there..are they just not? Or are they on top of it and you just didn't look?” he quirked a brow at the freshman.

“No, it's just not there..” they shrugged. 

George nodded, “alright, do you want to go ask Mr.Wastaken if he's got a spare or would you rather me go instead?” George asked with a small smile. He was quite stonic before so he was afraid the kid thought he was mad at them. The freshman said they would and scurried off.

George decided he wanted to walk around the class and see how everyone was faring with their projects and if there was anything else they couldn't find. 

He walked around all the desks and lab tables and stopped at a small group of friends all working separately but sitting together.

“How's it going over here?” He held a very small smile. The group replied positively and each showed their projects to which he praised. They were all really really cool already, and he couldn't wait to show Dream some of his favorites after they were turned in to be graded.

Mr.Fundy - biology

“Mr.Fundy, your coat is very...bright.” A student named Owen, was referring to his very colorful lab coat. He sounded as if he was trying to compliment him, but he really couldn’t just LIE to his teacher.

Fundy narrowed his eyes at Owen. Owens desk was directly in front of the lab table that was his desk, in the front of the room. Fundy was stood behind it.

Fundy placed his hands on the table and leaned forward, “are you making fun of me?”

“He SO is.” The girl next to Owen said with a grin.

“Hey! I wasn’t! It’s just very...different.” Owen defended.

Fundy pointed an accusing finger, “there’s that backhanded tone again!” He ended it with a giddy laugh.

The rest of the class joined in until, “alright alright! I get it! It’s not super pretty but! It’s a great Segway into today’s lab,”

The rest of the class groaned loudly, smiles showing through.

Fundy snorted a laugh and shook his head, pulling some beakers from the drawers in the table.

Electives:

Teacher Eret - sociology

“So she told you you weren’t invited? After all that?!” Eret was currently chit chatting with his very small third period clas that consisted of a small group of kids that happened to be friends.

“Right teacher eret! I was like, woah, that’s so honked up! So we all decided we’re not going.” A girl named Jane said.

“Well that’s very sweet of you, I would’ve done the same.” Eret patted the first girls head endearingly as he walked back to his desk to sit in his desk chair. The girls continued their small conversation, including teacher eret when they wanted input.

Eret was heavily fond of classes like this where they were all very close already and he found it easy to bond with them. It just happened that these girls did there work on time so they had plenty of time to chat with him and eachother. 

His favorite thing was when they’d give him fashion advice, because he always took them up on it. It paid off too, he’s a very dashing dude because of it!

Mr. Dude - comp science

Sam was sat at his desk typing away as the class was doing a quiet activity. They were playing around with coding websites that are essentially games. The class was fairly small, so he’d grown quite a bond with his little dudes over the past couple months.

“How are all you guys other classes going?” He asked, turning his chair to face them.

“Mr.Notfound is honestly about to give me a headache.” One of the girls sat towards the window said, her friend beside her laughed and nodded.

Sam laughed softly, “how come?”

“His room is always a mess! I can never find the correct pieces for anything. You have to look where you wouldn’t think it would ever be and then that’s where it always is!”

A few other kids laughed and agreed as they had him aswell.

“Not to mention he gets grouchy sometimes when we ask him to much.” One boy poked in.

“He does? That’s not to nice. I’ll poke him about it.” Sam said to his kiddos with a soft smile, “how we feeling about a snack break?”

All the kids quickly agreed and he pulled a box out from under his desk with various snacks and drinks and placed it on the floor in the front of the room.

“Have at it!” He made his way back to his desk as there were various wrapper sounds and “thanks Mr.Dude”’s

Mr.Soot - drama

“Okay let me get this straight- you did the script assignment but you didn’t study the lines?” Mr.Soots eyes were narrowed.

“Well no i used the script to help but I didn’t memorize it.” The girl in front of him said, her name is gene.

“Hm. Alright, you can just read off it then I suppose, it better not render your performance though, geney!” He smiled as he nudged her towards the stage. 

The students were doing this group project where they made their own story’s and scrips and they got to perform them for fun, not for a grade. They had a free day so they decided it would be fun to do it today, and Wilbur was the most exciting out of all of them.

He watched each one, giving copious amounts of praise and encouragement and he really enjoyed it. The bell rang faster than they’d all expected since they were having so much fun, and he waved them off as they went on to their next class.

Wilbur sighed to himself, a content smile on his face as he sat in the front row of the auditorium. 

“What’s with the sigh?” A voice started him slightly as it broke the silence of the large room.

“Jesus phil, a bit of a warning, yeah?” He pressed a hand to his chest.

“Sorry, should’ve announced myself. My bad, mate.” Phil walked up the small steps of the stage and sat on the top few, facing wilbur.

“You looked awfully content, a good class?” Phil asked.

“Oh definitely. Love that bunch to bits. They’re so smart and they’ve got so much passion for theater but they’re so carefree and they have so much fun. I just love to be a part of it. Makes my job a whole lot more fun.” Wilbur spoke with a proud grin. It was true, he really did adore his students and he was beyond proud of them.

“I’m glad!” Phil stood, “keep up the good work, kid.” He clapped him on the shoulder as Wilbur nodded.

Mr.Schlatt - political science

“No you said it was before the time you had it, therefore your argument is invalid cause how can you claim you had it during that time if the entire argument is based around you not having it?”

Schlatt stared at the student in front of him. He was a tad speechless, which was impressive in itself.

They were talking about a stupid debate thing shlatt had made up, but he made it with a loophole, wondering if they’d actually catch it. He was very surprised one of the students actually did.

“You’re correct actually. Good job, ren.” His brows were raised as he tried to hide his proud grin. He didn’t want them to know how genuinely excited he was that they figured it out.

“That’s stupid.” Ren said, with a blank stare.

“Aye!-“ Schlatt was about to go off a tad when the door opened and Mr.Q stood in the doorway.

“Am I interrupting a yelling session?” He asked

“Yes.” Both Ren and Schlatt answered at the same time.

Mr.Halo - self defense

Mr.Halos class was one of the chilliest, like Erets and Sams, there wasn’t a whole lot of work getting done during class since they would just talk about various things and have snacks.

Today Bad taught them about various hotlines they may need to know about for different situations they’d find themselves in.

“Do they just make hotlines for everything these days Mr.Halo?” One kid asked.

“Well sometimes. Not for everything though, but definitely for a lot of things.” He responded.

He was currently sat cris cross on the rug in the front of his room, munching on a orange as the rest of the class was also having snacks. 

He loved classes like this because these were times when his job didn’t feel like work, he loved that he was helping make sure these kids could be educated enough to protect themselves when he couldn’t. He worried about them, but he felt happy when he could see them safe and sound, and not hungry, like they were at the moment. He cherished these simple moments the most.

Even more than the times he’s watched them scrimmage some defense tactics and evidently fall on their butts in some instances. 

Mr.Skeppy - money management

“Mr Skeppy, I'm bored.” 

“Okay.” Skeppy replied as he stared at his computer screen, his head rested in his hand.

The student scowled slightly, others giggled to themselves.

“Mr.Skeppyyyy” the kid groaned, the kids around him laughing. 

“Fine, if i put up a kahoot will you all leave me alone?” He smiled softly, sending the kid a side eye.

The class agreed loudly and he pulled up a kahoot about vines.

“Whoever gets first place gets 6 bucks.” Skeppy said with a grin as he leaned back in his chair.

“Isn’t that counter productive to the lesson we’re learning about waisting money on stupid things?” One girl said.

“Why six?!” Another student suddenly said, the rest of the class flowing into laughter.

Mr.H - hospitality

“Wait so your other teachers didn’t give you guys valentines?” Mr.H asked, his eyes wide as he stared at the kids in front of him.

They all shook their heads, “Mr.Jacobs and Mrs.Nihachu did. But that’s it.” One boy said as he shrugged.

“Mr.Wastaken didn’t even know it was valentines until we mentioned it, poor Mr.Notfound.” One girl said back, her eyes trailing of to the floor as she raised her brows. 

Mr.H laughed loudly, he loved how his kiddos were so comfortable in his class to diss their own teachers.

“Well not here! Today you all have a valentine and that valentine is me.” He said as he placed little bags full of different candies on each of their desks. He put them together all by himself with little hand written letters. It was adorable.

They all excitedly opened the little presents and read the notes together, all of them giving Mr.H a hug. 

It was a very adorable day in the H classroom.

Mr.Frost - horticulture

“Mr.Frost! Can we go outside for class today?” The students were filing in for class since the bell just rang.

“Sure! How about..how about we go bug hunting?” He replied.

The students all agreed very excitedly. Once the bell rang for the start of the period they began doing their begging of class rituals which included watering a bunch of different plants and taking care of the compost bin. Then once that was all done everyone got some jars and set out to go outside and see what they could find.

Everyone ran around trying to find different things and yelling out when they did find things.

“Mr.Frost! I found a caterpillar!” A boy named Lennon ran up to Ant.

“Really?! Show!” Ant watched happily as the boy showed his new caterpillar friend.

They discussed what type of caterpillar it may be before Lennon ran back off to his friends. 

Ant loved classes like this where he got to be outside in the sun and watch all his students learn hands on in a super fun (and adorable) way. It was one of his all time favorite things.

Staff:

Mr.Minecraft - principal

“but it’s so annoying! Why can’t I just leave when I gotta go, why should I ask to take a piss!” 

Phil stared at the boy in front of him, a blond one by the name of Tommy. This kid frequented his office way to often.

“I don’t know Mr.Innit but you’ve got to listen to your teachers, it'll get you out of my office and I think that’s something we both want.” Mr.Minecraft glared slightly.

“Oh come on! You don’t like hanging with me Mr.Minecraft?!” Tommy said with a grin.

“No, Tommy we’re not ‘hanging out’ you’re in trouble.”

“Well when you put it that way it seems bad-“ Phil cut tommy off,

“It is bad Tommy!” He scoffed, holding in a laugh.

Mrs.Puffy - councilor 

Mrs.Puffy was a hugger, a very big hugger. So whenever kids came in crying over just anything, hugs were a must. Often students would visit when they only needed a hug! Sometimes that was her favorite thing.

“He said there was no-“ the small girl heaved for air a tad before continuing, “l-late credit, but but I didn’t have time and I- I need to get the grade and I just-“

“Hey, hey, it’s alright! Mr.Blade seems scary but I bet if he knew you were this stressed he would be very happy to help you out! He’s a very nice man.” Mrs puffy wad currently trying to calm this girl out of a the panic attack she was seemingly having.  

“R-really?” She asked Mrs.Puffy

“Of course! I actually think he’s got a free period right now, would you like to talk to him now? I can have him come here so I’ll be here to and it’ll be easy peasey lemon squeezey!” Puffy said with a big smile.

The girls nodded softly with a sniffle and puffy brought her in for a hug.

She would always have the kids backs, no matter what. Even if that meant talking to the big scary Mr.Blade, who was more likely afraid of her really.

Teacher Callahan - substitute

“Callahan!” Mr.Wastaken yelled, he was laughing but he was getting slightly frustrated.

Callahan apparently didn’t have a class this period, so he went to Mr.Wastakens class as he usually does to annoy him.

Callahan has been taking the pens for the whiteboard dream was trying to use and passing it around to students to pass to each other . It was very funny.

Callahan didn’t always pick this class because of Dream, he also picked it because there was a fellow mute in this period. Her name was alise, and she used ASL alot, which made Callahan actually learn a bit so he could talk to her! 

Dream actually thought it was really cute, so he tried to get Callahan to teach him some as well, so he could talk to alise the way she communicated. This backfired terribly after dream learned that thank you, and fuck you, we’re actually very similar signs. Callahan had taught him the latter. Alise never corrected him, she only made a silly face and huffed out a small laugh. Dream apologized a lot once he learned. Callahan thought it was hilarious though, so often him and alise sign said sign to dream just to tease him.

Another thing Callahan did often was stand behind dream, and mock him. Dream would walk farther from the board as he would go on and on talking with his hands and such. Callahan would make his way behind him and pretend to sit on the edge of his desk.

So every time dream would turn around wondering why all the kids were laughing at him, he would see a normal looking Callahan who would only shrug. This always made the kids laugh even more. No one would rat him out though, it was teacher Callahan!

[emperor-palpaminty]

"I've been falling in love with you since the first day we met." With western Tech I am begging

Ah! The return of Dr. Victor Trech "Tech" the Third! I have been watching too many Jane Austen movies again because oh no I am in a MOOD ANON, this was delivered with perfect timing! All credit goes to @weirdcharacter for the lovely creation of this AU, please go follow her (and her writing is great, @hellothere-generalangsty )

Rating: F for fluff. Fluffy fluff.

Jekk is “Jack” and Sheeyah is “Shay”! Yall know the drill. Also I'm not saying the reader looks like Sadie Adler (RDR) but her aesthetic is PERFECT for the reader and I just sjdhsksjsks, just the clothes and the hat and the attitude, I adore it warning this is very dramatic, send help,  i need help, my expectation for men is unrealistic

Your world turned sideways, then upside down, sideways again, and then right side up. You laughed, tumbling again, coming to a halt at the base of the hill. The two children slid down by you, voices chorusing in laugher. Shay collapsed on your back as Jack skidded by you, giggling, grinning and displaying a stunning lack of front teeth. “You’re the funnest person in town.”

“Aw.” You grinned, reaching over and tugging on Jack’s straw hat. “You kids are pretty fun, too.” 

A set of little fingers reached up, tugging the tangles of grass through your hair. “Mama and papa like you, too.”

“And I like them.” You sat up, yanking off your hat and letting your hair fall so Shay could braid it. She rose, taking your tendrils of hair and weaving them together. “I like yall more, though.” You winked at Jack, who giggled as you motioned him to shush. “Don’t tell them, though.”

Shay cackled behind you, tugging on your hair and tying it off. “We won’t!” She chirped.

“Your secret is safe with us!” The boy cawed, running around his sister. “Hey! Shay! I’ll race you back up the hill!” He turned and sprinted up.

“Hey!” Shay fussed at her little apron, hopping up, and then ran up after him. “Not fair! You had a head start!”

A laugh, deep and warm, escaped your chest as you stood. You followed the kids up the hill, walking slower as they neared the top. You stopped and glanced back at the landscape, the sea of gold rolling in waves from upcoming storm winds. You would think the fields of wheat were oceans of riches. Cut was rich in every way, of course- with a family as lovely as his and lands as broad and blessed, but the man was happier with grains than physical riches.

Thunder rolled above your head, shouting through the sky. You glanced up, then looked at the kids, who has just made it into their house. "Hey!" You yelled. "I'm going to run home."

The kids nodded, shouting their goodbyes and waving as they retreated inside to the warmth of their abode.

___

You barely managed to make it into the pergola in the center of town when the bottom really fell out of the storm above. The wood creaked under your feet as you moved, watching the rain, antsy for the clouds to lift.

Drumming your fingers on the old railing of the pergola, you made a couple of laps, taking in the sights of this town in the rain, the storm. You leaned on your elbows and looked over everything, thinking for a moment. Everyone was tucked away safe and sound in their homes, listening to the rain and wind and curling up with loved ones.

Even if you were the only one in your home, you wouldn't mind curling up alone, drinking some tea, listening to the pitter of rain on your windows-

Wait.

You leaned on the wood, squinting at the figure fast approaching you. Despite actively getting drenched by the unsympathetic rain, he was grinning.

"Victor," You whispered, turning and running to the steps of the pergola. You made it halfway down the stairs, the rain and wood scent assaulting you, when his hand grasped your arm and tugged you back under the cover of the humble structure. You tugged your hair out of your face, staring up at him, rubbing the water out of your face. "Victor!" You practically yelled above the rain. "What are you doing out here?"

The Doctor grinned, victoriously holding up an umbrella that had been stationed under his arm. "I had to bring this to you!" He smiled sheepishly, rubbing his neck. "Uh... It hasn't done any good yet."

"Oh, Victor." You laughed and looked him over, shaking your head at the mud splashed on his trousers. "You're soaked!"

"I didn't want you to be alone." He said, watching you. "Waiting this out by yourself would be rough." His eyes, behind the rain-speckled specs, were bright as he looked you over, wet hair and all. "Stars," He said, hoarse. "You're beautiful."

A laugh tugged at your throat as you plunked down on the floor of the modest stand, and you patted the wood next to you. "You're very sweet, doc."

"I'm being serious," Victor plunked down next to you, taking off his specs and rubbing his dampened shirt on the lenses in an attempt to dry them. "I'm trying to be more bold. Honest, even."

You laughed again, shaking your head, the braid Shay made swaying on your shoulders. "Well, you're sweet, either way. And you're kind of pretty yourself."

He chuckled in his city-slicker way, a way that charmed you. "I like your braid." Victor paused, reaching up to examine it. "May I?" Upon receiving your nod of approval, he took the length of hair in his hand. Your whole scalp tingled at the sensation of his hands, gently skimming over the braid. "It's lovely. Shay?"

"Yes," You hummed. "Shay likes playing with hair, you know."

He chuckled, hands falling to your shoulders momentarily before dropping, and Victor scooting besides you, crossing his legs. “She does.” He added, eyes drawing to the rain.

You snuck a sideways glance at him. He really was pretty. Soft lips rounded a set jaw, intelligent dark eyes hiding behind glasses, skin tanned and warm with brown-red hair laying in wet curls on his head. You were never one for art, portraits, but heavens, if you could pick a picture to have engraved in your mind’s eye forever it would be this one, of him, wet and soaked from the rain and eyes soft. Your gaze darted away, and your stomach stirred- butterflies, your mama used to call them. 

You felt a hand press softly over yours, fingers spreading hesitantly on your knuckles. You glanced up, blinking, and you smiled quietly. Victor’s own eyes moved up to yours and his cheeks pinkened, and he started to pull his hand back. “I’m sorry, I just-”

Your thumb flicked over his hand, trapping it over yours again. “It’s fine.” You whispered, barely audible against the rain. After a moment of silence, you squeezed his hand. "How did Victor Trech become 'Tech'?"

Victor chuckled, fingers flexing over yours. "Ah. Well, one of the letters I sent- I suppose the 'r' in Trech blended in with cursive, and... Well, I never corrected it."

You broke out in a giggle, looking over at him, feeling your lips almost split in laughter. "Really?"

He nodded, laughter filling the pergola. His eyes danced in the rain as he looked at you, intelligent gaze not diminished by the softness that lingered in his brown eyes- warm and ever present.

You sucked in a breath as he smoothed his hand up to your cheek, pushing a strand of wet hair behind your ear. “If I could just,” He whispered, watching it tuck back neatly. His words never finished- but they held a strong, finalized want in how he said them, prayed them.

His fingers cusped your jaw, and he swallowed harshly, the unsaid plea moving down his throat. “Forgive me.” His hand moved away from you, and he turned his head away, words hoarse. “You seem to make me forget the words that I had in my mind.” Victor grimaced momentarily, at the crack of thunder above them. “And you make me talk in flowery circles.”

“Why do I do that?” You leaned forward, cocking your head. The hair danced from behind your ear to brush a damp line along your cheek, but you ignored it- you were enraptured fully in him, his presence.

“Because you-” Victor’s words caught again, and his cheeks reddened as he glanced down at the old wooden ground of the pergola. “You make me want to say every good and noble thing that you bring to my mind, and you deserve no less than the best praises my lips can sing of you.”

Your thoughts fell flatter than an armful of barley on a windless day. His eyes were so sincere, warm, lips pressed together. “I said I was trying to be honest because I want to be open and honest with you, especially you, if not only you- and should you say no, my heart will still be yours, and I’ll never speak of my honesty with you again.”

A chuckle pressed firmly to your throat, and you watched him sit up more, nodding softly. “Go on,” You encouraged. “Speak to me.”

The words spilled out of his lips, like a dam of emotions, held back by fear. “You make me feel needed here- well, the patients make me needed, but you make me feel wanted. Oh, there is no better feeling than being wanted, my saving grace.” Victor’s hand found its way back to your yours, clasping it, words dancing with the now-steady drumming of the rain. “I need these hands to ground me, hold me, only if you’ll have me.” He pulled your knuckles to his lips, kissing each one so tenderly. Like the tall grass you ran your hands over in the summer, his kisses were soft and warm and warmed you, head to toe. 

“You’ve been thinking about this for a long time, haven’t you?” Your brows raised. You were no longer chilled to the bone- you had thawed. 

“Since the first day I met you.” Victor whispered against your hand. 

You grinned, leaning in a little bit, catching his eyes in yours. “How about you stop kissing my hand and kiss somewhere else, Victor?”

The doctor stopped talking, mouth slamming shut and eyes flickering to your lips. He cleared his throat softly, and exhaled a shaky chuckle. "I... I don't want to make you uncomfortable."

"You're not." A smile pressed to your lips again and you moved your head, catching his eyes.

It took a moment. He nodded, leaning in halfway, and closing his eyes. His hands closed around yours, lips expectant.

You reached up and stroked a hand in his tangle of curls before closing the space. He flinched once your lips brushed his, but leaned back in, solidifying it. Everything fell into place, suddenly. The tugging at your heart every time you saw him, loving the way his name, him, tasted in your mouth, and those flashes of the tenderness you got- his doctorly touch examining your wounds, the fussing and concerns not always done out of his medical oath- how much of it had been done out of love?

Victor broke back, for a moment, enough for him to whisper your name, leaning in and kissing you, deeper, sweeter, humming against you. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders and sighed, willing the rain to fall for as long as it wanted to- you had all you would need right here.

[quiet-in-the-wild]

A non comprehensive list of queer things & genderfluid things I loved growing up and as an adult- that made me feel safe, happy & gender euphoric.

So much of the past 10 or so years of being out as queer I’ve spent quiet & timidly. When I first came out- those of you who have been around for a long time know - it was very traumatic. But I didn’t let it shove me back into the closet - however, at the same time it did make me cautious.

So these moments were small little celebrations of queerness- that I can see now with perfect clarity.

Watching Victor Victoria as a kid over and over- feeling so enamored by Julie Andrew’s character wanting to be that confident & expressive. Wanting to switch back and forth from drag to masculine to feminine. 

Defiantly choosing blue to decorate my bedroom - because it has been previously decorated in a shabby chic pink ruffle theme. 

Then changing it to the brightest hot pink and lime green. So bright it hurt my eyes but I didn’t admit it because it was a statement.

Being interested equally interested in boy & girl toys and hobbies, and subjects. I always followed my interests not what was expected of me. So I had too many barbies to count & loved them, but I also loved sharks and lizards and things like that. 

Spending hours talking with my out gay piano teacher instead of taking lessons and instead paying attention in community theater. He was such a dear friend & mentor and I miss him so much. He made me feel so understood. 

Secretly making gay families on the sims back in the early 2000s 

Immediately getting a pixie cut and more masculine outfits after graduating high school. 

Discovering the author Sarah Waters- Especially Tipping the Velvet. I’ve never been a fan of any sexually explicit things, but this book- and particularly how Nancy would dress as man, and found her way that was authentic to herself. It was unlike anything I ever read. I think I’ve re-read more times than I can count.

Literally wanting to be a drag queen - from like age 16-mid 20s. I would make my friends in highschool do full drag makeup. In college drag race came out and I loved it- haven’t really watched since the first couple seasons. 

Rocky horror picture show. My college roommate asked me if I ever saw it- so I bought it one summer and watched it everyday all break. The queerness of that movie was so amazing. Just such a badass celebration. 

Anytime I’ve ever worn a leather jacket. I felt gender euphoric. Even my wife said I walk differently, more confidently. Throughout high school I stole my dad’s bomber jacket and wore that because it was so cool. I was always finding ways to show the masc. side of me. 

The first time I said “my girlfriend,” or “my wife.” to someone.

Chopping all my hair off & getting a dapper haircut & new wardrobe after getting married. The energy of having such short hair, such dapper butch clothing. I felt so euphoric. When I walked into my first class after the summer I felt like everyone saw me for the first time. 

Currently, dressing in the super patterned and artsy bold clothing - I need all the color, all the prints. It fills me with so much joy. 

My super awesome 70s shag. Usually I cut my hair with a completely new style every year or so. And I’ve had this shag for so long. I love it so much. (I actually first got it because I was given a photo of my birthmom and she had a shag haircut so it made me feel a little closer to her) 

My mini collection of chore jackets & demin work jackets (in bright colors) I absolutely love how they make me feel. Like some 80s gender non-specific person with their 70s shag & they literally don’t give any fucks. 

Deciding to not wear any makeup for a year. Letting myself love how I look as I am. 

Realizing that all the people I identify with, all the characters, actors-  everyone that I can see myself in- are men. Nathan Lane, Neil Fielding, Bob Belcher, Oscar (summer camp island) David (Schitts creek) Philippe d’orleans (Versailles) 

Realizing that my gender changes. Loving who I am in the moment. Not wishing I was anything other than who I am. 

[peralta-guaranteed]

do you have any hc’s of jake meeting or being at santiago events from early relationship to fatherhood

ho booy, that's like.. a whole fic collection if you get deep into it!

- he went to one sibling meet-up / visiting-the-city-event pre-relationship and half the brother's were like... THIS is the dude Amy has to work with? he's fun but oh god they're like oil and water. While the other half was like JESUS you can cut the tension between those two with a knife!!!

- the first official relationship meeting is luckily not a big holiday or anything, just an annual summer BBQ afternoon/evening at the parents'. Jake knows he's gonna be under everyone's scrutiny and stresses out like crazy beforehand. He doesn't want to ruin things with his jokes, but he also can't pretend to be some straight-forward serious dude if this relationship is gonna last and they'll get to see him more often. He ends up mostly talking to Julian whom he knows, and who makes him feel easy enough to be his normal, goofy self. Which may or may not be a good thing.

- (he also definitely raids the grill - wouldn't dream of offering help or info, Victor's the king of the BBQ - and brings Amy exactly the items she likes the most without knowing that she usually has to fight at least two brothers for them, so that's quite a lot of plus-points from everyone for him)

- the first big, big event is Noche Buena (christmas eve) where everyone brings a dish, so he and Amy are expected to now bring two. Actually, Amy is only expected to bring drinks, because... they know her, after all. But Jake wrecks his mind over what he could cook, he doesn't know any Cuban or Latin dishes, heck, he doesn't really know American christmas dishes, because while he did celebrate it his mom never made too big a deal out of it all... so he ends up bringing his mom's passover brisket, which Karen might or might not have helped with a lot. Anyway, it's a hit, and abuela Claudia tells him to bring it next year too, which... they all know what that really means. He's still expected to be in the picture next year.

- about a year and a few months into their relationship one of Amy's nephews gets christened and that's when the Santiago-baby-testing starts, definitely. Jake is basically volun-told to take care of the older kids during the day outside of the church (inside which the parents shush them, luckily, because Jake would never be able to handle that). He also gets handed the baptism-baby and silently thanks a God he doesn't actually pray to that the kid stays calm in his arms while everyone is staring.

- between Florida and Jail things get quite bumpy for the Santiagos re: Jake, because he's missed several events, and involuntarily made Amy miss a few as well because she didn't feel up to it, and, well, they all don't really know what to think of that, really, especially since Amy couldn't tell them the truth about WitSec (except for Matteo and Julian). But they do make it to the annual cabin week that year, and they're still so happy from being back together and actually moving in with each other and just having each other back, for realz-realz, that Jake completely forgets to be anxious about re-meeting the family and Amy completely forgets to be anxious about how she acts in front of her family, and they all basically get the lovey-dovey show of their life. Which is surprisingly reassuring for them all.

- some of the Santiabros, one abuela and, unexpectedly, Camila send Jake things when he's in prison. Even during his short stay, he gets picture updates of the family (and Amy), and some Cuban snacks and sweets (that he refuses to trade or barter with), and a letter-set from Camila (so he can write to her daughter, which she's sure Amy'll love). It's all very sweet, but most of all it's a very clear sign that despite it all he's absolutely a part of the family now and no Santiago is going to let someone from their family fall. They throw him a small-ish party when he gets out, without really mentioning what the party is about but just a general welcome back.

- once they're engaged things turn even more. All the tias and tios who were still suspicious of him (a boyfriend is a very unstable thing) finally accept him as much as they can (a fiancé is a thing for the future, however). The baby-testing and husband-duty-testing definitely amps up during every single event.

- post-wedding (which they're all still bitter about not attending but oh well), Jake actually gets handed proper jobs during events. Before, he was always dragged in as a helper or general support, but now he gets his properly assigned areas. Which, as Amy lets him know, means he's definitely a Santiago-Peralta now even if he hadn't taken her name.

- there's a bit of a rabble during a birthday party for one of the brothers when Amy is heavily pregnant, because Camila and Victor expect everyone to follow their planned schedule and do things properly and whatnot, while Amy is at that stage where she needs to sit down a lot / wants to nap a lot / feels unwell really fast. Jake is extremely adamant about her doing what is best for her, while Amy feels the pressure of being the perfect daughter, and it ends in yet another scene where Jake tells Camila where, exactly, she can stick her schedule if his wife needs that time window to lie down in her childhood bedroom (okay, maybe that's not his real word choice, because he'd never dare say that to his mother-in-law, but the point comes across). Amy is mortified, Camila is angry, and Victor for the first time ever thinks he might actually be the right one for his daughter. The santiabros give him several high fives in secret later on.

- Victor is completely convinced once he watches Jake carry sleepy baby-Mac through his cousin's quinceañera like he's the most precious cargo in the world, which he is. There's a crazy party happening, with all the stuff that Jake would usually go wild for - cake, party games, silly costumes, good drinks. But instead he holds his son close to his chest, and stays off to the sides so the noise doesn't bother him too much, and tells Amy to go back and enjoy herself every time she checks in on her two boys. And when they leave earlier than everyone else, because Mac really needs to go to bed at home and Jake doesn't want to drive through the complete darkness with a baby on board, Victor gives him the first hug ever to say goodbye to his son-in-law and his grandson.

[dontcallmecarrie]

Downward Descending

the road to hell is paved with good intentions, and every villain is the hero of his own story. 

Justin Hammer didn’t consider himself a good man. 

Kind? Yes. But not good.

aka thanks, commenter, I blame the plot twist my brain came up with on you because I had zero inspiration for this AU up until I saw your comment

probably won’t make sense if you didn’t read part one to this mess and heads up, the protagonist becomes a villain here. Under the cut because it ran away on me, again.

.

Above all things, Justin Hammer was a realist. 

Kind of hard not to be, considering; between their [fading] memories of another world, and the life they’d been stuck with this round as the heir of Hammer Industries, they’d never really had a chance to get their head in the clouds.

Other people could dream of a better future, and he really did wish them all the best— but in the meantime, he had work to do.

.

Justin didn’t understand these people. 

Sometimes, he wondered if he ever would.

.

Justin didn’t think much of his family: oh, sure, they were loaded, but...well, for obvious reasons, he didn’t think very highly of some— okay, most— of their parenting choices.

Look, some people just aren’t meant to be parents, okay? But at least they try and give a damn.

These guys didn’t even bother.

Not when their heir turned out to be a normal kid instead of a once-in-a-generation child prodigy and genius [no hard feelings, though, Stark]. 

Eh. Whatever. 

Might’ve been for the best, actually; at least it was him and not some other poor kid who got stuck with dealing with all the crushing expectations and comparisons to a frankly impossible ideal, and at least they didn’t try to pull any of that shit with his little sister because if they had then...he wasn’t sure what he would’ve done, but it would not have been pretty.

[they were an older sibling twice over. some things were etched into their soul.]

.

It wasn’t like Justin had set out to quasi-adopt just about everyone remotely his age, okay? It just sort of...happened. 

Okay, look, it’s not his fault everyone his generation looks like a kid to him, they’re all brats and for some reason, all their parents came in different flavors of shitty because their IQs were sky-high but their collective emotional intelligence wouldn’t have filled a teaspoon so looks like it was up to him to step up.

Look, it made perfect sense at the time!

.

Sometimes, it’s funny how Justin is the most mature person in the room. Other times, it’s just pathetic.

Especially when it’s two grown men half a second from duking it out while in public, like they weren’t supposed to be setting an example for their kids.

Justin couldn’t help his dark look at the spectacle, even as he ushered Stark and Pym to the buffet tables on the other side of the room, all the while trying to keep the conversation light. He didn’t really have the time for hobbies, not with all the private tutors his parents kept foisting on him, but it was still nice to hear what other people his age got up to. 

...unless said kid was Stark, in which case they all got regaled with an overenthusiastic spiel on something that went way over Justin’s head but hey, he’d had plenty of practice nodding along to Steph’s chatter so this was nothing.

.

Looking back, it’s kind of sad how something as simple as giving half a damn was enough for Stark to consider them lifelong friends.

Even sadder, because Justin hadn’t even realized it at the time; he’s just been his usual self.

But apparently, that was enough for some people, was significant enough to be remembered even decades later— long after Justin himself had forgotten all about the encounter.

.

There weren’t a lot of things Justin put actual effort in. 

Emotionally, that is; he was not afraid from hard work, never had been, but there was a world of difference between brushing up on engineering terms and being there for someone. 

Not like his mother, who’d apparently thought giving birth to him and his sister was enough involvement in his life, and proceeded to spend all her time in the Bahamas whenever she had the chance. Not for his father, who constantly tried to make him into something he was not, and finding him wanting [when he wasn’t being a sexist piece of shit who regularly cheated on his wife, anyway, but that was a whole other mess entirely].

But maybe that’s why he tried to be kind, why he tried to be there for the people around him.

...oh, and apparently he’d been known for giving good advice in boarding school to anyone who asked. Which was weird, but whatever. At least he’d helped?

.

Justin tried to be a good older sibling. Really, he did, trying to be as supportive as he could be of Steph as he could.

Sometimes, though, that landed him in some...interesting situations.

Such as her infamous ‘fashion design’ phase, which lasted for five very memorable months, during which he wore even her most dubious of creations without complaint even though he really, really couldn’t pull off that particular shade of orange. 

There were probably pictures still floating around, actually, but he was in no particular hurry to dig them up.

Not that he was ashamed, because he’d like to think he pulled off some of those combinations remarkably well, but... well, if it were anyone other than his sister asking, he probably wouldn’t have done it.

Goodness knew how long it’d taken for some of the other guys at boarding school to look him in the eye afterwards. 

.

Several decades in, and Justin Hammer had yet to express interest in anyone.

Oh, he was perfectly polite and charming to everyone; courteous and charismatic, but...well.

'Gentleman’, some called him; ‘in the closet’, dismissed others with a scoff.

The truth was somewhere in between: Justin couldn’t help but see everyone his age or younger as kids, and between that, his natural older sibling instincts, and his own personal issues with his body that came and went, well...

At least Stark was always a good distraction, nobody paid attention to him when the guy was around. 

.

Justin worked at his company long before he became its CEO. 

It was a bit awkward at first, because everyone seemed to be uncomfortable with the idea of the boss’ kid looking over their shoulders, but once they saw he did good work and pulled his weight [and didn’t regularly make tasteless jokes about kitchens or whatever bullshit his old man was up to these days], things picked up the pace.

He bounced between departments a bit because he wanted to get a better feel for the company, and it was during his brief foray in the marketing department that he came across something that gave him pause.

Now, he knew Hammer Industries followed federal guidelines on who they did and didn’t sell to, officially, but...there were a few grey areas sometimes. 

Normally, it wasn’t something he’d have blinked at, but he recognized the names on this particular proposal.

“Von Doom? Latveria? Geez, Victor, what’ve you been up to?”

.

Once upon a time, there had been a boy who appreciated silence when studying during a time when most children his age were anything but.

So when another brat showed up, he hadn’t exactly been happy about it at first. 

But they were quiet, and seemed to prefer to keep their nose in their book, and so they’d come to a wordless agreement to share the space. 

For over three years, they studied together and shared exasperated looks when the other brats got loud, and so it was that a friendship was born.

It wasn’t until they stopped showing up one day that Justin learned that there was turmoil in that student’s country that’d forced them to go back, and only then that he learned his silent studymate’s name.

.

An unusual childhood friendship wasn’t much to go off of.

But it was something.

And knowing what he did about Victor, and the pull his country had in the international sphere... it was a risky gamble, but he was fairly certain he could pull it off.

So Justin quietly but firmly took that particular proposal from the ‘reject’ pile, and took it to his father to look over.

He was still fairly new at this, but he knew how to play the game. It was a risky gamble, but if this panned out, they’d have a significantly stronger foothold in places their rivals couldn’t even dream.

Worst comes to worse, well... everyone was so focused on what was going down in Yugoslavia, it wasn’t like they’d particularly care if a few shipments went missing, now, would they?

It wasn’t pretty, but then, Justin wouldn’t get anywhere in the world if he was afraid of getting his hands dirty.

.

Latveria’s reputation as an unstable country ended when the scion of one of their most eminent families went and united its people, kicking out all of the outside factions vying for territory as he did.

Then he promptly turned around and revitalized its economy, infrastructure, and gods knows what else because seemingly overnight, Latveria turned into one of the richest countries on the planet. 

Sitting back in his chair, Justin smiled as he put down the newspaper.

“Huh. Sounds like someone’s been busy.”

.

He got a very slick cell phone via courier, not long after that. 

That, and a slip of paper with a simple ‘Thanks’ in Victor’s signature scrawl.

.

Years passed.

Years passed, and shit went down, but no matter what hurdles life threw his way, Justin powered through them nonetheless.

Like when his little sister had a kid and their parents freaked out because she wasn’t married, and then freaked out even more when little Timmy turned out to be on the spectrum and Justin wasn’t remotely surprised when she cut all contact with them after that.

Goodness knew he’d have done the same long ago, after all the shit they’d pulled over the years.

He was just happy she chose to keep him in her life, and that Timmy seemed to really like him as an uncle. 

.

Stark was a bona fide hero, was talking about privatizing world peace. 

Justin wished him the best of luck.

But...well, he hadn’t been the one to propose their rivalry, but if Stark wasn’t in the industry to compete against, then... oh, bother.

Looks like he’d have to change up his plans.

.

Stark was acting weird. Well, weirder, he’d never really been able to understand him in the first place.

“What’s wrong?” Justin asked as he pulled him to the side. Sure, it was probably rude to ignore the gala’s host, but he did not like the look in Stark’s eyes, no matter how bright his smile was.

“Hey, Justin! How’ve you been? Long time no see, but—”

“You’re not okay.” He said, making sure his tone brooked no argument because he knew Stark, had known him since they were kids and he was not okay.

It was like a switch flipped: Stark’s smile vanished, and he reached out towards him for a moment before he sighed and were those tears in his eyes? “Yeah, you could say that.”

.

The government wanted to take Stark’s super-fancy suit, and...this, he could work with. Somehow.

Damn it, he’d need to tweak some of his plans even more...

.

For a few seconds, Stark looked very betrayed when he caught sight of him in the courtroom. 

Then his face went blank in the way Justin had long known to be his ‘I am screaming internally but I refuse to let the cameras see’ look, and he felt bad for him even as he submitted his own findings to their audience.

To be honest, they were a long ways off from developing anything close to what Stark already had in hand, but it never hurt to be prepared for the future. If one man could do it, what was to stop another?

They were all lucky Stark was a good man who didn’t abuse his power.

Justin was no hero, but if lightning were to strike twice...better him than a potential threat.

Besides— Stark needed competition if he didn’t want to stagnate. Who knows? Hopefully, they’d be able to push each other to greater heights.

.

Ivan Vanko was a dangerous man. Just as brilliant as Stark, but with an edge that could only have been gained from a hard life.

Dealing with him would be like playing with fire, Justin just knew it.

[Like knew like, after all.]

But he knew people, knew how to work them, and considering that little display at the race track?

He could work with this.

.

It takes a handful of phone calls to put out all the fires from the past few days. 

Perk of being a well-known and respected figure in the defense industry, Justin supposed; Stark’d once mentioned his contact list was classified six ways to Sunday, so really, having a few senators on speed-dial was nothing. 

He had to do some extra sweet-talking to calm down some of the generals, and may or may not have made mention to some of his older contracts to get Stern to ease up, but whatever.

.

Why he was invited to Stark’s birthday celebration, he didn’t know. 

But he brought a bottle of apple cider and champagne anyway, because why the hell not.

.

This party was really, really not his style.

So when he was pulled aside by the man of the hour, he raised an eyebrow when he noticed he was out of his suit and— wait.

Justin whipped back to where the piece of equipment that had been the source of all this mess was dancing on the table, while Tony was in a rumpled suit not three feet from him.

“Oh, you have got to be kidding me.”

.

Stark looked like shit. 

...and was apparently dying, because he’d passed up Justin’s offer at a toast, even though it had been an inside joke for almost as long as they could remember.

Also, he’d looked stricken when Justin had tried to joke about it, that was another pretty big clue.

They weren’t normally one for hugs, but this time they didn’t hesitate to offer— and so felt very very awkward when the closest thing they had to a childhood frenemy proceeded to break down in their arms.

Justin’s older sibling instincts flared to life and they tried to murmur reassurances the best they could, but.

Wasn’t like there was much they could say, now, could they?

Stark was dying, and there was nothing they could do about it. 

Something inside Justin was screaming, and the part of him that wasn’t trying to be there for someone absently wondered why...then he noticed what he was saying, and kicked himself for not paying attention earlier.

“—ever give up, I’m here, know you are not alone—”

Geez. Talk about sappy, normally they only got like this around their sister or nephew.

But whatever it was they’d said, it apparently helped. 

Or something, because Stark was honest-to-goodness crying but after a few minutes, started to calm down and pull himself together.

“I’m so, so sorry about this—” Stark started, and Justin cut in.

“Don’t be, looks like you needed it.” And he clearly had; already he looked a lot better than before.

“I...should get back to the party, shouldn’t I?” Ah, looks like Justin wasn’t the only one feeling awkward now.

“It’s gone on for a while, and you look pretty tired. You sure you don’t want to wrap it up instead?”

“...yeah, that’s... probably a good idea. See you around, Justin. Hopefully.”

“See you later, Stark.” 

.

Stark apparently invented a new element in his basement. 

He knew this, because Stark called him up to say he wasn’t dying anymore. 

Once he hung up, he felt torn between immense relief, and exasperation that he’d need to rewrite his plans again.

.

...aaand kinda ran out of steam again. Long story short, yes, this is the AU where Justin Hammer maybe sort of becomes the Lex Luthor of the universe and may or may not end up accidentally creating a League of Evil of sorts because he’s frenemies with Tony and Victor von Doom ends up having a similar dynamic with some grad student and Ivan has some really good ideas and loves sticking it to the man. 

Said club only grows when the Avengers Initiative forms, and Loki escapes custody and joins for the sole purpose of pranking Thor and giving Fury a headache and Justin may or may not end up getting a crush somewhere along the way.

No, I’m not sure how we got here either.

[lilsuzn]

MLQC Victor - Fluff abc headcanons

Fandom: Mr. Love: Queen’s Choice

Warnings: None. Fluffy flluff. The reader is gender neutral :)))

A = Admiration (what do they absolutely adore about you?)

The ambition.

The witt.

The open-mindedness.

The kindness.

The creativity and imagination.

The passion.

B = Body (what is their favorite part of your body?)

Smile. He loves it, because it’s a clear indication of your happiness.

Your eyes light up, cheeks become so adorably pink.

He has a different picture of your smile on a main screen and lock screen of every device he has. Even his work laptop.

C = Cuddling (how do they like to cuddle?)

Given his initial attitude you couldn’t believe how after your first time together Victor got cuddly out of the sudden.

He’s not clingy. He doesn’t do it at any given occasion, but when you are alone in the comfort of his home - he will want to cuddle and might even get a bit touchy-feely sometimes.

Spooning on the couch is his favorite. He can be a big or a small spoon. He doesn’t really have a prefered role. Victor just wants to be close and keep you warm.

Candles and slow music.

D = Dates (what does their ideal date with you look like?)

Perfect gentlemanly manners.

E = Emotions (how do they express emotion around you?)

His ideal date would be a cosy, romantic dinner at his place. Just the two of you. Everything will be served to you. And don’t even think about helping him wash the dishes afterwards.

He can be quite aloof in public.

If he bares himself to you - it’s only in private (if at all). 

When the look in his eyes softness and the corners of his lips tug upwards - that’s when he pulls you close and lays kisses all over your face.

Doesn’t really know how to talk about his feelings. Won’t really try unless absolutely necessary.

Will take extremely good care of you if you need it. Sick? Tired? Grumpy? Sad? He would nag, but is ready to stop the earth and move the sun if it is to make you smile at him again.

He’s a hard worker and would rather die than to give up on keeping you happy. And by his side.

F = Family (do they want one? If they do, when?)

YES.

Whenever you are ready and if you want to have kids at all - he will be happy to provide.

Only thought of you carrying his child makes him all hot and bothered, but that’s obviously not all.

He just wants to have everything with you. Beautiful wedding, big house, children... maybe even a dog, if you into THOSE -.-

He sometimes imagines you both gray and old with your grandchildren. Making cookies in the kitchen or walking around the park.

He (very) secretly dreams about ending your love story the same way it ended in the Notebook (that he has officially never seen!). Embracing each other. Closing your eyes for the last time knowing that your children are safe and happy. That’s just who he is deep deep deep inside - a hopeless romantic.

G = Gifts (how do they feel about gift giving? What are their habits when it comes to this?)

Well, he doesn’t really believe that gifts are an indication of love. People give each other gifts all the time and for no apparent reason.

He cherishes every gift you give him, but if it was the only thing you did, he wouldn’t be too happy about it.

Same goes for him. He’s a man with money. He might not be able to give you ANYTHING you might want, but he can sure provide you with a lot.

And he will. He could never leave you wanting without a good reason. He sees it as his responsibility to gift his beloved one with everything a woman might want.

Every work trip - a bag full of ‘I’m sorry I left’ gifts. He just needs to prove it to you that he was thinking about you every second he was away and how else could he do it?

He also likes to present, well, himself with jewelry or clothes for you to wear. Something beaming like your smile? Something precious like you are for him?

He just can’t deny himself the pleasure of seeing you look so gorgeous in something he personally picked out.

H = Holding Hands (when/how do they like to hold hands?)

Oh, so you thought you would be able to NOT hold hands on every possible occasion? Cute.

Don’t feel like cuddling on the couch or in the bed? Okay, hands holding it is.

Feel like cuddling? Okay, but don’t let go of his hand.

Walking around the town together? You better believe he won’t let a chance to show off his wonderful woman slip. Yes, madam old lady walking by, yes mister homeless guy going down the trash container, yes madam sales lady and you, random guy on a bike - she’s my babe.

I = Injury (how would they act if you got hurt?)

If you injure yourself by being distracted while ie. cutting something with a knife or stirring something hot - he will get a bit upset with you.

But even though he will bumble discontentedly under his nose, he will take better care of you than you need. Hurt your right hand? He will feed you, write things down for you and whatever else he sees necessary. Hurt your foot? You’re being carried around and he will be mad if you try to walk on your own. “I know it’s nothing serious, but what if it gets worse when you always walk so carelessly?”

If somebody else hurt you? Well, he’s ready to kill with cold blood. Wouldn’t hesitate.

Stabs as a warning.

If you got seriously hurt he would probably close himself in the bathroom and cry for a while, but nobody but him will ever know.

J = Jokes (do they like to joke around with or prank you? how?)

He finds such acts very childish and would never prank you. He flinches with only a thought of the word.

If you attempt such a thing to him, he will get VERY UPSET.

K = Kisses (how do they like to kiss you?)

Full of love.

He doesn’t like to kiss just for the sake of it or for the expectation to kiss your partner.

If your lips meet it’s always in an emotion-filled kiss.

No matter if it's a featherlight, sugarsweet, lovingly sensual or burning hot kiss - it's always intense in it’s own way.

L = Love (how do they show you they love you?)

Acts of service - His mane operational system. He lives to please you. To treat you like a goddess you are for him. Acts like he’s taking notes of your preferences, dreams and dislikes. Only buys the coffee you like. Stops eating meat for you. Do you remember saying that you wanted that cute, sakura starbucks mug, but had no idea where to get it? He does. He ordered it for you already. Remember briefly mentioning that you would want to see Tokyo in winter? He already has a whole trip planned.

Gifts - well, I already covered it in G, but I’ll just add that he will surely be reluctant to buy you some seemingly useless stuff even if you ask for them.

Physical touch - once again, Victor isn’t really clingy or touchy feely. He has his moments, we all do, but usually he just likes to hold hands and that’s all he wants for outsiders to see. At home he gets a little more physical, but not too much. Some affectionate caressing and hugs. Kissing is not that often of an occurrence, but when it happens is usually preparation for devil's tango (which with him happens pretty often but that’s not the list for the details).

Quality time - See Q.

Words of affirmation - Well, he is a good critic. Too good. However it’s just because he wants you to push your limits to thrive. He will tell you that he’s proud of you, appreciates what you are doing for him/your relationship and other things that are usually task/success related, because that’s the only appreciation words he appreciates. Words are empty for him. He’s a lawyer, he knows how willingly people lie to get what they want and how hesitant they are to make some more effort when it comes to it. Will tell you that he loves you at least once a day, because he always adds it to his to do list. Won’t praise your beauty too much, but you can tell he likes what he sees when he likes it. If you wear red lipstick the man will basically drool, but will not say a word until he pushes you down on his bed… and the rest is history.

M = Memory (favorite memory together?)

Remember that third date I mentioned? The one his kissed you for the first time on?

It was a very nice date.

He took you for a walk around the rose garden. Bought you your favorite coffee to keep you warm during the breezy evening.

Didn’t let go of your hand for a moment.

You looked so pretty that night. Smiled so pretty. TALKED so pretty.He didn’t even realise when he stopped and leaned down. He could not have noticed when you closed the gap between you.

But the kiss was outwardly. That first one and every other you shared that night.

N = Nightmare (what is their worst fear?)

To disappoint you.

He sure is scared of losing you, hurting you and a few more, but seeing you disappointed by him…

To imagine such a thing is already hurtful for him.

O = Oddity (what is one quirk they have?)

Taking photos of you while you’re asleep.

He just can’t help it. You’re so beautiful. And cute.

Would never show them to anyone though. Not even you.

No… He couldn’t even confess to you about it. It’s just his little secret.

P = Pet Names (what do they like to call you?)

Is ‘dummy’ a pet name? Because… Dummy.

‘Baby’ might also happen if he's feeling playful or you did something cute.

If he’s in a good mood you can count on ‘my love’ or ‘my lovely’ - but never in public.

Q = Quality Time (how do they like to spend time with you?)

Can’t do without it.

As I said in D, Victor will both serve you and entertain you. Whatever you want to do - he’s okay with doing it with you.

He might not really pay any attention to some of your movies and work on his laptop instead, but he wouldn’t even dream about leaving you alone and doing it in his comfortable office instead.

He rearranged his home office so you would come over and you both work together more often and more happily. Now you sit across from each other and, heh, see H.

R = Rhythm (what song reminds you of them?)

Me? Myself?

Beyonce - Ego. OBVIOUSLY. Check it out if you don’t know it. (it’s a tiny, little bit suggestive, beware)

But in the more romantic mood…

The Neighbourhood - Sweater Weather

S = Secrets (how open are they with you?)

You need to put a lot of work for him to finally open up.

After that first time, however, if he finds your reaction pleasant, he will start testing the waters on his own from time to time.

THEN, if you won’t fail his many, many tests of course, he will open up for good.

No secrets. No hiding his feelings. He’s your book that is eager to be read.

T = Time (how long did it take you to get together?)

He doesn’t fall for anyone. Ever.

If he was to, I’d have to be a conscious decision. With a lot of thought put into it.

That’s what he was telling to himself his whole life, a least.

But then when he met you… it wasn’t a love at first sight, but it took approximately a fithteen minutes of group conversation for him to get all tingly on the inside.

He didn’t ask you out that day and he regretted it alot. The next time you run across each other on the street, he spears no time.

He kissed you on your third date. Neither of you voiced it, but the situation was very clear.

U = Upset (how do they act when you’re upset?)

He acts upset.

He’s angry and he either actively doesn't talk with you or throws passive aggressive comments around.

He doesn’t beat around the bush. He’s upset.

V = Vaunt (what are they proud of? Do they like to show you off?)

You're absolutely supreme in his eyes.

Beautiful, intelligent, talented.

He takes a lot of pride by introd you as his partner. Takes you everywhere he can as his plus one, so he can show you off to even more people.

Talks instead of you as he does that, but obviously you are more than okay with that.

W = Warrior (how do they feel about you fighting? Would they fight for you, beside you, etc?)

Do I even have to say it?

Because it’s obvious. Have you even ever heard about this guy?

He would kill and die for you.

Do anything to keep you by his side and happy. That’s just who he is - a fighter… for you.

X = X-Ray (how well are they able to read you?)

His talent to read people is one of the main things he owes his success to.

Even if you don’t show what’s inside your head in your face, he sure will find other ways to read you.

You can’t hide anything from him.

Y = Yes (how would they propose to you?)

As I said, he doesn’t show it off much, but it’s quite clear in his gestures towards you - he’s a hopeless romantic that is madly in love with you.

Christmas morning. Sipping on hot chocolates that Victor made for you. You open your presents.

As always, you end up ashamed of how little you spent on him, even though you couldn’t really afford more. He bought you so many things you’re not even sure you’ll be able to store it.

After going through a few bigger presents, you finally go down on the smaller ones.

One of them particularly tiny, causing an awwww to leave your lips.

You got a few rings from Victor before and even more pairs of earrings. It really didn’t seem suspicious, especially since you’ve been dating for only a few months then.

But after you open up the box and see it… you get a bit confused at first.

White and yellow gold molten together creating an uneven coloration of a band that bends and twists and splits like a branch that holds two gleaming diamonds like they were two blooming flowers. One white - bigger, other pink - smaller.

Their cut - unseen. Enhancing their flower-like look even farther.

At first you are consumed by inspecting every detail - the way the metal cups the stones to like a tree does flowers. Causing a petal ilusion to grow even more realistic… You don’t even notice when he goes down on one knee before you until he puts his hand on your thigh.

You look at him. Your eyes wide in shock.

He has never been a man of words and some might say that his proposal ‘speech’ wasn’t romantic… But for you it was more than just perfect.

“Marry me, (Y/N).”

Z = Zen (what makes them feel calm?)

Seeing you calm. Seeing you happy.

Knowing that you don’t have to worry about another day, because he’s been working hard his whole life to provide for you.

[tothemeadow]

Minecraft hunger games with the upper moons maybe Muzan for extra fun where Nakime and the reader are on a team and they win? Obviously they punish everyone else in a very ✨spicy✨ way for being bad as they should.

I hope you enjoy your case of blueballs.

‘finish him’ / Muzan & Upper Moon Demons x Reader

warnings: more suggestive than spicy >.>

words: 1,291

-

Breathe in, breathe out. The enemy could be lurking anywhere. You’re grateful that Nakime has your back and vice versa; in a free-for-all match, partnerships shouldn’t be taken lightly, nor for granted. If either of you really wanted to, you could easily turn and end the other with a killing blow. If you two manage to survive against everyone else, things might have to turn out that way; however, Nakime has already agreed to share a double victory with you when the time calls for it.

You constantly remind yourself that you got this, that you will win. If not, well… Say goodbye to your dignity and bragging rights. Since you’re playing against someone like Douma, you’d rather not lose. Actually, you’d enjoy beating his ass in and out of game.

Glancing around, you take in the sight of everyone completely focused on the screens of their computers. You can only guess what they’re really doing, if the constant mashing of keys and clicks of the mouse give anything away. Your gaze lingers on Muzan for a split second longer; the crease between his brows is evident, a true disappointment against the otherwise perfection of his face. Frankly, you’re surprised that he and Kokushibou didn’t team up for the match. The two of them are practically glued to the hip for anything else, so why not this as well?

“Staring at people is what’s gonna get you killed,” Muzan mutters, his eyes remaining on his screen.

Embarrassment creeps over your nerves. Of course he would notice you staring. He’s always had that weird sixth (and maybe seventh) thing going on for him. With a scoff, you turn your attention back to your own computer and try to shake his comment off.

A couple of minutes later, there’s a sudden bang of fists colliding against a tabletop. “Son of a bitch,” Kaigaku hisses, “I just got ended by a fucking creeper. What kind of bullshit is this?”

“It’s called that you suck at this game, man,” Gyuutaro drawls. “Seriously. If you wanted to be killed by somebody, you should’ve found me instead.”

“Piss off,” Kaigaku snaps. “I’m just annoyed, okay? I didn’t ask for death by explosion.”

During their so-called “conversation,” Nakime subtly bumps your shoulder with hers. Looking at her screen, you see that she’s sneaking up behind Gyuutaro, a sword at the ready. Perfect.

“I’m just saying,” Gyuutaro continues, keeping his nonchalant behavior. He shrugs. “It’s a waste.”

And swipe.

“Wait – what the fu-“

There’s the distinct oof noise coming from Gyuutaro’s and Nakime’s screens as she beats his character to death. Down he goes, all the possessions he was holding falling to the ground.

“Man, that was a low blow.”

“Ha!” Kaigaku cackles. “Suck on that!”

“One must keep an eye on all fronts,” Nakime merely says, acting like the true badass that she is. “It’s your fault for leaving your flank open.”

To the side, Douma bursts into a fit of giggles. “She got you with that one, Gyuutaro! Looks like the both of you are out!”

“And you’re one to talk,” Akaza grunts. “You’re about to join them.”

“Wha-“ Douma immediately cuts himself off with a surprised yelp as Akaza’s character sweeps seemingly out of nowhere and kills him. “Hey! That’s no fair! You didn’t give me any warning!”

“Why would I?” Akaza deadpans.

Alright, so that’s three down – four left to go. Knowing Daki, she’d be easy to take care of. It’s Muzan, Kokushibou, and Akaza that will prove to be the issue. If you and Nakime continue to stick together and play your cards right, the two of you will emerge victorious.  

As the minutes drag on, tensions rise. Muzan kills off Daki with no trouble at all. Kokushibou eventually catches Akaza and ends the poor guy’s life – much to Akaza’s chagrin – and it’s quickly turned into a standoff. You and Nakime stare Muzan and Kokushibou down, just waiting for someone to make a move. When it happens (you’re not sure who does it first), all hell breaks loose; a war cry breaks free from your throat as you charge towards Kokushibou.

In a clash of blades and oofs, you’re seeing blood. Well, not literally, but it’s nice to pretend that you’re literally hacking Kokushibou apart. Only one victor shall emerge, and it better be you or Nakime. Everyone else is cheering you on, calling out for who they want to see win. Daki and Akaza cheer you and Nakime on, saying that girls rule! Maybe it’s what pushes you to do even better, to move even faster. Before you know it, Kokushibou is dead.

“Dammit,” Kokushibou grunts.

“Finally!” Akaza exclaims.

Muzan scoffs. “I expected better from you, Kokushibou. What a shame.”

“I wouldn’t get so far ahead of yourself,” you taunt. “It’s two against one, you know.”

“I also refuse to go down without a fight,” Muzan challenges. “I’d like to see you two girls try.”

Slice.

“Oh my god – did you just die?!” Douma squeaks, his face turning red as laughter begins to bubble from his throat.

“Dude, that was lame,” Gyuutaro chimes in. “All that talk, and for nothing…”

“Monologuing only brings destruction,” Nakime says coolly. She puts away her sword. She’s just so badass, wrecking people’s shit and then busting out one-liners. And this means…

“We won!” you cry out. “We did it, Nakime! We really won!”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, so what?” Kaigaku says, rolling his eyes. “Who gives a shit?”

Daki shoots him an incredulous look. “Are you like, stupid or something? We agreed to have punishments dealt out to the losers, duh.”

“Speaking of which,” Muzan says with a huff, “what is it going to be? It better be worth it.”

You scoff at his arrogant comment. “If you’re gonna use your mouth to say something like that, you should use it for something better instead.” At that, Muzan’s eyebrows creep up his forehead. It takes you a moment to realize what you just said; it’s too late, though, if the look on Muzan’s face says anything.

“I like the sound of that,” Douma purrs. You’re not even surprised his mind immediately went to that side.

Akaza smacks him up alongside the head. “Can you stop acting horny for five minutes? Seriously.”

“No, no, Douma is onto something,” Kokushibou mutters. Your jaw drops as you look to him. Not him too! “(y/n) said so, so it must be the punishment.”

The corners of Muzan’s lips curl into a devilish smirk. “Thank you, Kokushibou. It’s only fair that we follow through, right?”

To your side, Nakime sighs. “Way to go,” she mumbles. You swallow nervously.

“Come on, guys, let’s not be hasty…” you start, voice low. You really don’t like how Muzan, Kokushibou, and Douma are slowly creeping closer to you.

“We’re just doing what you said,” Douma giggles. You yelp as he promptly kneels between your legs.

“I’m out,” Nakime says. Standing up, she moves away from the couch, leaving you entirely by your lonesome. She was your partner, for fuck’s sake! Why is she turning on you now?

Muzan and Kokushibou take their chance and sit on either side of you. You expected this sly behavior from Muzan, but Kokushibou? Turns out these two are working together again. Figures.

“No need to look so bashful,” Muzan purrs. Grazing his knuckles over your cheek, he leans in close, his warm breath fanning over your ear. “You wanted this, didn’t you?”

You jolt when you feel Kokushibou’s mouth on your neck. “I never said-“

“Don’t kid yourself,” Douma chirps. The look in his eyes doesn’t match his cheerful tone. “It’s our punishment, isn’t it? Liven up, pet.” With another giggle, he nuzzles into your inner thigh.

Oh, fuck. You’re screwed.

[starduststudyblr]

love victor season 2 thoughts

MAJOR spoilers under the cut

i have Thoughts about season 2 because they all just kept. screwing up. so many times. except for felix, he is baby and i will always love him. this season was so messy and infuriating and real and i still loved it.

- is simon sick of victor yet😂it's been two seasons of simon exclusively being a high school kid's gay sherpa and those conversations seem pretty one-sided

- i LOVED felix's storyline. i thought it was so well done. it was a hard situation and they handled it with grace and authenticity. anthony turpel delivered an amazing performance and that scene where he finally broke down BROKE me. this type of situation is a reality for so many people and i loved the way they portrayed it.

- i never realized the extent of lake's toxic positivity. i always really liked her because she was such a ray of sunshine, but she handled felix's situation so poorly. like, she was so out in left field. not even in the realm of understanding. i know she had good intentions and was dealing with her own stuff too but like...yikes. it really rubbed me the wrong way. i still love lake, but pilar seems oddly like a much better fit for felix. i really love the way her character has developed since season 1.

- the whiteness thing!! yes!! I'm so glad they addressed this. as a queer poc i can relate to victor and rahim in that even the most well-intentioned non-poc won't truly be able to get it unless they live it.

- VICTOR TELLING RAHIM ABOUT BENJI'S ALCOHOLISM!! IN WHAT WORLD IS THAT OKAY!!

- mia's dad accepting the job offer made my eyes pop out of my head. I've been pretty annoyed with mia since season 1 because she never tells anyone when they upset her but i was so proud of her for finally speaking up. and then her dad goes and does...that??

- speaking of...mannn i am so sick of everyone not communicating. if i have to hear one more "are you okay?" "yeah i'm...fine *tight smile*" from any of them i'm gonna scREAM the tight smiles are killing me (looking at you victor and mia)

- the whole victor and rahim thing felt so forced. it just didn't make sense. i love rahim and i'm so glad they brought him in, but i just don't think it adds up to have something only spark between them in the last two episodes. but also i need victor and rahim's version of holy on spotify immediately

- I was rooting for lucy to be gay from the start and the twist with lake gave me so much serotonin omg🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺my lil bi heart is full

- i loved isabel's storyline so much. at first i was a little nervous because i really didn't want to watch a full season of homophobic parents, but isabel's growth was so real and vulnerable. this stuff isn't easy and i loved that they showed the real struggles that some parents have after their kids come out. isabel wasn't perfect and the show definitely didn't gloss over the ugly parts, but watching her develop over the course of the season was beautiful. also, being a Catholic who has also struggled with the church's views of the lgbtq community, watching her come to terms with her changing beliefs and stand up to the priest really touched me.

- aaaand victor and benji. on the one hand, this series is called love victor so it makes sense that the story should focus on him, but the whole relationship just felt like...a lot of victor. everything was always about victor and his issues and nothing about benji and what he was going through. not to mention victor's family issues, which must've been a nightmare for benji. i can understand how he felt. but on the other hand, i can also see victor's side because he's dealing with things that benji will never experience. benji needed to have a lot more understanding with him because they were in two very different situations. not sure who to side with on this one.

[cheri-translates]

[CN] Traveling with you - Gavin

🍒 Warning: This post contains detailed spoilers for an event, 与你同游, which has not been released in English servers! 🍒

This is an event for Chinese New Year, where you get to visit a Spring Festival Temple Fair with the love interests :>

Players are able to select the order in which they visit various locations, so they aren’t meant to be in chronological order!

Prologue: here

More: Kiro l Lucien l Shaw l Victor

💙 TEXT 💙

MC: Gavin, are you asleep?

Gavin: Not yet. What’s up?

MC: It’s already so late. Why aren’t you sleeping yet?

Gavin: I had mud all over me after accompanying Flyer for its training. Just finished busying myself with washing and drying it.

MC: Do you have any missions recently? Do you need to head out?

Gavin: Nope, I’m not very busy these days.

MC: In that case, are you willing to walk around Loveland’s Temple Fair with me?

MC: I heard there are tons of activities this year, and wanted to go with you since you aren’t busy.

Gavin: Of course it isn't a problem. I’m free these days, so when are we heading there?

MC: That’s great - why don’t we go tomorrow!

MC: But I’m a little worried. It’s been a long time since I’ve been to such a major event. Is there anything I should take note of?

Gavin: There’s been a bug going around lately, so you could prepare some disinfectant wipes, and wear a mask properly.

Gavin: Leave the rest to me.

MC: Okay. I’ll prepare some handmade tidbits as a Spring Festival gift to you!

Gavin: Don’t tire yourself. Being able to see you is good enough already.

MC: Don’t worry. I’ll see you tomorrow then!

Gavin: Okay, goodnight, and see you tomorrow.

-

💙 Location: Traditional Snacks Stall 💙

MC: I really want to eat everything I see. Gavin, do you have any good recommendations?

Gavin: It doesn’t count as a good recommendation, but I saw something familiar. Look at that menu.

MC: “Chewing Gum”?

Gavin: Those are chestnuts roasted with sugar.

MC: I still remember how you specially bought them for me once - we’ll go for that then!

Hugging a bag of chestnuts, I reach into it, only for my right hand to get scalded.

Gavin: Be careful. It was probably freshly roasted. I’ll do it.

The Chinese chestnuts, while scalding to me, are abnormally obedient in Gavin’s hand.

He carefully peels the outer shell for me, revealing the flesh of the chestnut.

I open my mouth, eating the chestnut he brings to my mouth.

After biting away the slightly hardened exterior, the inside is soft.

MC: Mm, very delicious.

Gavin: Take your time, don’t choke.

The fragrance and honey-like sweetness slowly piles up on the tip of my tongue.

Just like how I’m feeling right now.

-

💙 Location: Game Stall 💙

After queuing up for the pitch-pot game, we suddenly hear the sound of crying from beside us.

[Note] Pitch-pot is a traditional East Asian game that requires players to throw sticks from a distance into a large canister!

Turns out an elderly lady brought her grandson out to play, but he didn’t manage to get a single arrow in.

Gavin and I exchange glances, and I give him a nod.

He takes one of our arrows and walks over to the boy. Squatting down, his tone is gentle.

Gavin: Little kid, don’t cry. Big Brother promises that you’ll definitely throw the next arrow in.

After saying this, he lifts the boy onto his arm.

Gavin: Look at the mouth of that canister. Just throw the arrow in that direction.

Even though the boy is still sniffling, he listens and does what Gavin says.

The arrow flies in a perfect arch in the air, accurately falling into the canister.

I can sense a somewhat weak yet tender breeze, and I grin at the boy, who has cheered up, and the elderly lady who thanks us profusely..

MC: Officer Gavin, I’ll be relying on you during our turn too.

-

💙 Location: Firecrackers Stall 💙

I pull Gavin over to look at the firecrackers available on the counter.

A cylindrical firecracker appears in my view, and it has a sheet of paper taped onto it. On the sheet of paper, there’s a drawing of someone practising martial arts. Below it, there's a large “Double-kick” written.

I purchase it out of curiosity, and Gavin takes the initiative to take on the task of setting it alight.

Because I heard that it’d be very loud, I feel a little afraid while standing at the side.

With a crackle, the flame leaps up the rope of the firecracker.

Gavin hurriedly runs over to me. He rubs his palms, then cups them over my ears.

Warmth covers my ears, and the volume of the world greatly softens. My heart stutters.

After a while, he lets go.

Gavin: How was it? A little softer?

MC: ...you covered my ears too tightly, and I didn’t get to hear anything!

Gavin looks at my enraged state, and smiles happily.

Gavin: It’s okay. There are still many firecrackers left, and we can try them out slowly.

-

💙 Location: New Year Handmade Items Stall 💙

MC: I’m done cutting it!

I quickly unfold the paper cutting that I did in front of Gavin.

The DIY corner of the handmade items stall is incredibly popular. We’re currently squished in the paper cutting area, trying to cut some ingredients we want to eat tonight.

MC: Make a quick guess - what dish is this?

Gavin: ...an eggplant?

MC: It’s a tomato! Look at the leaf over here!

I point at the uncut shape, staring at the tomato which looks like an eggplant.

MC: What about this one?

Gavin: Watermelon.

MC: Close.

Gavin: ...pumpkin.

Although he only manages to guess them with hints, Gavin still looks very happy.

He lifts the red coloured paper in his hand, cutting it carefully and meticulously.

After a while, an adorable paper cutting of a Chinese cabbage emerges in his hands.

MC: Are we only having vegetables tonight?

Gavin: Nope, we definitely have to add some meat too.

After rubbing my palms together, I pick up the scissors, and start looking forward to tonight’s delicacies.

-

💙 Location: Auspicious Stall 💙

The paper slips from this year’s auspicious booth are strung on red strings, and are even higher than before.

Gavin’s expression is grave as he stands behind a ladder, as though worried that I’d lose my balance.

Gavin: Why’d you stop?

MC: Look over there.

An elderly couple is requesting for the employees to help them retrieve a paper slip since it isn’t convenient for them.

Even though I can’t tell what they drew, the happiness on their faces causes one to smile involuntarily.

Retrieving the slip of paper, I return to Gavin’s side. After a moment of hesitation, I stuff the slip of paper into his hand.

MC: I... I don’t dare to look!

Gavin: Look - it says “Great Blessings”.

I release a huge breath.

Gavin: Why do you look so nervous? Worried that your luck wouldn’t be good?

MC: When I was taking the slip of paper, I made a wish related to you. I hoped that you’d be safe and sound this year. Fortunately, it’s “Great Blessings”.

Gavin looks at me, reaching out to pat my head.

Gavin: To me, it’s only a great blessing when you’re safe.

-

Translated comic based on the scene at the firecrackers stall: here

[silence-burns]

Please Hate Me //part 48

Fandom: Marvel

Summary: Based on: “Imagine having a love/hate relationship with Loki.” by @thefandomimagine​ Who would have thought that babysitting a god could be so much fun?

Genre: slow-burn, enemies to lovers, banter, smut

Being the friendly neighborhood Spiderman always gave Peter a sense of pride and purpose, even if he could only share it openly with a few people. It was the kind of accomplishment that made all the hardships seem worth it in the end. It also made him happy in a way he couldn't really explain, but which involved a certain connection between him and the people he protected and got familiar with over the course of his superhero patrols.

But being the friendly neighborhood Spiderman was difficult in a neighborhood where no one was actually friendly in return.

Peter’s frown grew the further into the building he went. He was pretty sure it was the same one Loki and you had been renting an apartment in, and since he was a rather frequent guest, the neighbours should recognize him by now enough to at least return his greetings. 

That was what logic dictated, but Peter was pretty certain the people he met in the hallway only gave him a stern, disapproving look before walking past him quickly.

Peter was still frowning when he moved up the stairs, juggling the keys in his hand. Then he stopped. The unearthly screams of the damned were muffled, but most definitely coming from apartment number 13. 

Opening the door quietly, he slid into the familiar interior, now echoing with pain and suffering so loud, Peter had to cover his ears just enough to move to the root of all evil  - the bathroom. 

There were many inexplicable things Peter had witnessed happening in the apartment 13, and to some extent he got used to the thrill of not knowing what he'd face next time he paid a visit. Still, he hadn't expected to see various parts of a half-drowned owl sticking out of the sink filled thick with foam and bubbles. The owl must've struggled a lot, judging by the amount of water splashed on every possible surface, and the iron grip you and Loki still kept on the bird. Even if Loki was not wearing his usual features, it was still obvious who your partner in crime was.

The two of you froze. Soap and foam dripped to the floor. Loki's new form shimmered with a glamour only magic could achieve.

"Um, what are you guys doing?" Peter asked.

"Trying a new disguise?" The curtain of Loki's new long hair was luscious and utterly drenched. 

"No, I meant-"

"Listen, boy, as surprising as it might be for you, I'm still me, just with a less… criminally wanted image."

"Yeah, only if 'ME' stands for mischief embodied," you laughed.

"It literally doesn't. It's smooth, but it doesn't."

"Thank you, love. Now, could you please stop drowning poor Barbara?"

Loki sighed, but relaxed his grip on the bird just enough to allow it to peak its head out from under the surface and take a deep, long breath. 

Peter put his backpack down and meandered closer, dodging the growing puddles. "Why is there an owl in the sink?"

"Because I'm not allowing any fleas into my house," you firmly stated, pushing the wings back under the water. "And I don't care how many hours we'll spend here, I'm getting all the mud and dirt out."

Barbara clung to her dirt with all her might, but was overpowered and utterly misunderstood. Loki's new form was slimmer, but held the bird with his usual strength and a big dose of satisfaction. The smirk on his face was unchanged, even if the features were new.

"What do you need a disguise for anyway?" Peter asked, looking for a towel. "Can I go with you?"

"I'm afraid that as wildly chaotic and lawless as our destination is, you'd still be age-checked," Loki cooled his enthusiasm.

Barbara rushed to the towel and clung to it, loudly exclaiming what, precisely, she thought about her caretakers. Peter tried to dry her up as best as he could through her wriggling and screams. 

"Are you sure all this soap is good for her? Did you use any animal-friendly shampoo?"

Loki shrugged. "I doubt she can get any more dead."

The boy looked at the owl. The owl looked at the boy. The ruffled and drenched feathers were sticking out in all directions, uncovering a deep and no doubt fatal hole in her side. 

"You got a dead owl…?"

"It was not my idea," Loki groaned, casting the bird a disgusted stare in the mirror where he tried to change the shape of his eyebrows. 

"You're just angry because she likes me more," you laughed while mopping the floor.

Peter did his best to become invisible and not stare too openly at the ribs poking out of the feathers. Barbara puffed them every time he moved the towel around. The boy couldn't speak owlish, but the small, crittering noises she made were definitely far from happy.

"Where will you be going?" Peter asked. The owl sat on his knees and refused to move even after he finished drying her on the couch.

"To the largest casino on the Moon."

"Wait- There are casinos up there?"

"Not for kids your age," Loki said.

Peter slumped on the couch. "That's not fair."

"We'll be back before you notice." You threw the wet rag to the sink. "Of course, as long as a certain someone FINALLY decides what to wear."

Loki ignored your pointed look, too busy with changing his hair color. No matter how many little details he changed, he still struggled with finding a form he was sure would allow him to pass through the guards unnoticed and unrecognized. It was a shame he couldn't use his own - it felt like a waste to hide a face like his. 

The owl settled on Peter's shoulder, immobilizing him with the claws buried in his skin. But even from the couch, the boy could see the remnants of a hurricane that had thrown a rather alarming amount of clothes around the apartment.

"I thought these were yours," he admitted. The owl kept on looking through his hair with the utmost scrutiny and very little gentleness.

"I've settled long ago on what I'm going to wear. As for the diva himself, though…" you gestured around.

"I need it to be perfect," Loki said. "I have an important role to play, I can't just waltz in there and be recognized."

"You could go blond," Peter suggested.

"Ew, I don't want to look anything like my brother- Wait, that's actually a great idea."

Before any of you managed to protest, a full-grown Thor stood in Loki's place, watching himself from all angles in the mirror. The clothes no longer fit, so he dropped them and dove into the closet again.

"...what have I done?"

You patted Peter's free shoulder. Barbara nested in the crook of his neck. "Nothing they can prove. Hopefully."

*

"I am not my father's servant," not-Thor downed another beer. "And if I want to relax for just one evening, I shall!"

The tankard broke into tiny pieces as he smashed it on the ground. The loud applause and waves of laughter followed the very Thor-like outburst, making Loki relieved he was playing his role well. Even in a place like this, crowded with drunkards and gamblers from all over the universe, it was common knowledge what the god of thunder enjoyed.

Loki forced his glamoured face to remain cheerful as another tankard of beer had been brought to him, disgustingly sour and rough. He knew his brother well, and was sure he'd love it, but Loki himself would rather bite off his tongue than willingly digest any more if only he had an actual choice. He didn't, and therefore swallowed another gulp to the cheering from the crowds gathered at his table. The cards had been laid out, waiting for the victors to celebrate their success, and the rest to decide how much more money they were willing to lose to the god of thunder.

Seated in a great hall of marble and gold, Loki wished he could play the way he actually wanted to, which was the very same way that got him banned from the Moon last time he had visited. But for the sake of the mission, he stayed just above the line between bankrupting and winning money, which added to the body he was wearing, was just big enough temptation to keep his table busy.

Everyone entering the biggest casino on the Moon was inclined to try their luck, or at least take a quick look. It was a perfect, if rather boring, way of scanning everyone who entered the rich complex of buildings. The few fountains set further in the back murmured as they shot curtains of water. The air was thick and warm, making crowds of people inevitably gravitate towards them in search of any cold. With the tall, lush plants artistically winding over and between the pillars, it created little areas dotting the impossibly high hall, where the pleasant breeze gathered the people looking for just a moment of relief. You occupied a spot beneath the fountains, where most people would wind up going to at some point, and used it as a second checkpoint, just in case anyone missed Loki's, or rather his brother's table.

"Come on, does anyone else want to lose their fingers?" Loki heard you call out to the crowds.

Between their never ending sessions of losing and winning the money back just to lose them again, there were many individuals in need of a drink and a quick break from the gambling. How easy it was to grab their attention with a loud voice and a dead owl.

Loki stretched his neck and looked over to where you had sat down the bird with all kinds of currency piled between its claws and a single coin shining through the open ribcage. 

"All you need is to get the coin out, what's the matter, people? Is there no one brave enough to win all this money?"

Greed has always been a major deciding factor for the living beings regardless of race and the world of origin. The queue only rose in length as everyone wanted to try their luck. 

The table under Barbara grew more and more slick with blood from cut and bitten fingers. Pure malice shone in her dead eyes.

"What an awful creature," Loki muttered to himself. 

He could sense the stolen pin somewhere in the vicinity, but the casino was a loud and chaotic place, with multiple areas each centered around a different type of entertainment. More than an hour had already passed, but whoever was currently holding onto the pin, had not yet ventured anywhere near.

The two of you were slowly but inevitably running out of time. Odin might've been old and naive, but his spies' eyes reached far and wide. Loki had little doubt he would be interested in his favourite son's apparent evening fun, especially if he had that particular son with him, in the palace. Thor was a good cover, but not for much longer.

And then, by chance or a generous turn of fate, the shadows stirred and whispered. 

Loki cast the dice, not paying attention whether he'd won or lost. His money wasn't real anyway.

There - by the high palms stood the Hoarders, clad in the worn out rags and way too much jewelry. With their grey skin and long limbs, it was no wonder how easily they blended in with the shadows, using their skills to warp their surroundings and get in places others would consider highly secure. But their success was not measured in how many places they were capable of breaking in themselves, but rather how many individuals of all races they could easily befriend and bend to their will. Although, to be quite honest, Loki doubted the necromancer had needed much convincing. 

There were only three of them, each almost an identical copy of the others, but the Hoarders were encircled by both their partners for the evening and whatever scum tried to befriend them. That made it so much harder to approach them, but Loki was already thinking of a good excuse when he rose from his seat. People parted, giving him space - much more that would be granted to Loki's original form. 

The shadows whispered again. One of the ladies separated from the group, with an annoyed expression on her face.

Loki stretched, making sure to put his hands high. Once he caught your attention, he followed the lady at a leisurely pace.

"What do we do?" You asked once both of you entered the corridor and disappeared behind the corner. 

"She's got the pin."

One more turn took you in front of the ladies restroom. 

"Time for Plan C.” Loki began undressing quickly.

Holding a spare dress in your bottomless pocket was not the wisest choice, but it apparently paid off, even if fishing it out took you a moment. Your hands shook. Someone might have walked in on you at any time. While Loki would be doing whatever it took to get the pin back, you would be the one making sure no one interrupted him…

Like distracting the waiter that was now staring at both of you. Focused on the contents of your pocket, you hadn’t even noticed him approaching. Loki clad in only Thor's skin, blinked. 

The waiter turned on his heel and disappeared.

"I can already feel the gossip stirring," Loki shifted into a more feminine body, quickly putting on the dress. "They are going to eat my brother alive."

"Do you feel bad about it?"

"Oh, my heart is breaking into a million pieces," Loki assured you with a smile far too wide for that to be true. 

He kissed you quickly before disappearing into the restroom. 

Life felt amazing. Loki couldn't help but imagine the amount of trouble his brother would get once the word spread about his whereabouts.

His imagination was running wild, but the one thing Loki couldn't imagine was how, merely thirty minutes later, he'd find himself in the dungeons deep beneath the surface of the Moon, half-drowned, and viciously bitten.

[artificialqueens]

Ever in Your Favor, Chapter Eight [FINAL] (Rosnali) - Athena2

Summary: Rosé and Denali deal with the aftermath of the Games, and finally go home.

A/N: Writing this fic has been a wild ride honestly. I'm so glad I stuck with it because it's become one of my favorite multichaps I've done. Thank you so much to everyone who read along and stuck with me and this fic, your comments and support really do mean a lot to me. I really hope you enjoy this ending, and please leave feedback if you'd like!

Rosé throws the berries aside, wiping her mouth clean. “Are you okay?” she asks Denali, immediately going to her side.

“Yeah.” Denali is pale and shaky, probably from stress, but she lost a lot of blood from the wolf bite, and her leg can’t hold her weight. She needs a doctor.

The hovercraft roars overhead, rustling the trees as two ladders drop down. Denali takes one step and whimpers in pain.

“I got you,” Rosé soothes. She scoops Denali up and carries her to the ladder, holding on tight as they’re pulled up. They’re out of the arena. They’re out and they should never have to go back. Rosé just hopes the bad things will stay there, that they won’t follow her into her dreams.

The inside of the hovercraft is like a miniature hospital, with doctors and nurses and medical equipment waiting. They rush over, hands reaching out to take Denali away from her, but Rosé flinches back and holds her tighter, shielding her from the doctors. She doesn’t trust them, she doesn’t trust anyone but Denali, she can’t let them take her. She fought tributes and wolves, and she’ll fight them too. But Denali’s eyes are fluttering closed, body going limp in Rosé’s arms, and she has no choice but to let them take Denali behind a metal door, hoping they can fix her.

Rosé tries to follow them, but someone helps her into a chair, a pristine white one that looks so wrong beside the blood and dirt staining her hands and shredded clothes. She didn’t sit out here last time--her shoulder bled so much they had taken her behind the same metal door as Denali. Someone hands her water in a glass so clear she can see the reflection of her own terrified eyes, and she sets it down with shaking hands, not wanting to see, not trusting who gave it to her.

“Is Denali gonna be okay?” Her voice is a scratchy whisper, and she tries again, louder, but no one answers.

It’s so cold in the hovercraft that her teeth are chattering, and the stitches in her leg itch so bad it burns. Denali told her not to scratch at them and she doesn’t want to let her down, not when she’s behind that door and might not be okay. It’s like a bargain with herself, that if she doesn’t scratch them, if she listens to Denali, Denali will be okay.

The adrenaline has faded, and all she feels the heavy ache of her body. All she can think about is how defeated she was after the announcement, so much that she almost gave up. How she’s grateful she’s still here. How Denali loves her, loves her and means it, how it might be for nothing if Denali isn’t okay. Rosé needs her to be okay. She can’t have gone through the whole arena, all her feelings, and dreamt of a future with Denali for it to be ripped away now. She’s shaking, and her eyes sting but her body doesn’t have any tears left. Her body doesn’t have much of anything left, and she’s so tired, but she can’t fall asleep and leave Denali. The Capitol hospital is below them, and she’s asking about Denali again when there’s a needle in her arm, and everything goes dark.

---

Denali blinks through the fog and sees nothing but pure white--the ceiling, the walls, the bed sheets, all so bright it burns her eyes. There are tubes in her arm and wires across her chest, and antiseptic stings in her nose. How long has she been here? Where is here?

“Denali? It’s okay, you’re okay, I promise. You’re in the hospital in the Capitol. It’s been four days since the Games.”

Denali follows the familiar voice and finds that she’s not alone. Rosé is in a chair beside the bed, clothes rumpled and bags under her eyes, and just the sight of her, of someone from home, calms Denali immediately, lets her take a breath.

She’s in the hospital. It’s been four days. Four days since she staggered to the hovercraft and collapsed on the floor, her knee a bloody mess--

“My knee,” she croaks.

“Your knee is fine. They fixed it,” Rosé says calmly.

Denali nods, trying to hide her yawn. She’s been sleeping for days, and Rosé is here, has probably been here a while from the sight of her. She’s here just for Denali, and Denali doesn’t want to let her down by sleeping.

“Denali, go to sleep,” Rosé says, because of course she noticed. “I’ll be here. It took an hour to convince them to let me in, I’m not going anywhere.”

Denali doesn’t even nod before she’s asleep again.

Denali wakes up in a white room.

But this time, she’s completely alone.

---

It’s three times before Denali can stay awake longer than a minute. The third time, when she finally breaks past the cloud of sleep and whatever drugs they’re giving her, she sees that nothing has changed. She’s still stuck in this bed in a locked white room. She has no idea how long it’s been, and there’s no one to tell her. She thinks of last time, how Rosé had told her the information quickly, instinctively. Because Rosé had lived through that fear herself, Denali understands now. Because Rosé didn’t have a mentor, and woke up scared and alone with no one to help her, and didn’t want the same thing to happen to Denali.

Where is Rosé now? Is she in another room, stuck in bed like Denali? What if the Capitol really will only allow one victor and they’ve taken her somewhere, to hurt her and then kill her?

The worst part of waking up fully means she can think fully, and her brain runs through a hundred ways the Capitol could be hurting Rosé. She forces herself to think of something else, but the only alternative is the last few minutes in the arena—her feelings for Rosé crashing into her all at once, Rosé baring her soul, her heart, to Denali, willing to give herself up so Denali could live. But they both made it out, they both have to live. Denali can’t lose her, not when she loves her so much.

The creaking door cuts through her thoughts, and Denali sees a nurse. She hasn’t been awake to see anyone yet, and maybe she can get information. The nurse looks--kind. Denali isn’t used to seeing that in the Capitol.

“Ro--” Denali’s voice cracks, and the nurse gently holds water to her lips. “Rosé. The woman who came with me. Is she…”

The nurse hesitates, then leans down, pretending to adjust a wire stuck to Denali’s chest. “She’s okay.”

It’s enough.

---

Rosé sighs, leaning back against the pillow. The bed is as soft as the one in the Training Center, but she’d rather sleep on the ground than be stuck in it. She asks about Denali to every nurse she sees, but none answer her. Is the glimpse of Denali being carried away the last image Rosé will have of her? She has to be okay, she has to be. Denali is probably the toughest person she knows, and the doctors should have been able to fix her leg. They fixed Rosé’s perfectly--no cut, no scar, just clear skin. All Denali’s work, the paste she laid on it everyday, the bandages she wrapped it with, the lines of the stitches to hold it together, all gone. All her other injuries--cuts and scratches and bruises--are gone too, erased by the Capitol's advanced medical treatments. No physical proof that the Games even happened. Rosé carries all the proof inside her instead.

The door opens, and Rosé sits up, prepared to ask about Denali again. But she doesn’t need to ask.

Because Denali is here.

She’s in a wheelchair, pushed by a nurse Rosé’s never seen before. Denali’s pale, eyes tired and dull, but her dimples flash as she’s wheeled next to Rosé, immediately reaching her hand out.

“Rosie,” Denali breathes. “You’re okay. I--I wasn’t sure.”

“I’m okay,” Rosé says, giddy with relief.

Rosé squeezes her hand tight, tracing her soft skin, the smooth lines of her fingers, so clean and polished after the doctors’s work, but Denali’s hand nonetheless. A hand that fires a bow better than anyone and had held Rosé’s when she needed it.

“Thank you,” Rosé tells the nurse.

She just nods. “I can get you ten minutes.”

Rosé takes it, takes every second to just be with Denali, holding her hand and breathing her in. After this, they’ll have their whole lives.

---

Before they can go home, there’s the interview. And of course, the small matter of what to wear.

“Symone, don’t you think this is a little...excessive?” Denali asks. She can’t even sit on the couch in the dressing room because it’s entirely draped in fabric. She and Rosé are backed into a corner, surrendering to rows of clothing racks.

“This is the first time anyone’s dressed two tributes for the post-Games interview,” Symone says, looking up from her sketchbook. “You have to look perfect, especially because everyone loves you even more now.”

Symone is right. All eyes will be on them for this interview, to watch the tributes who made history. She and Rosé didn’t hear anything from the outside when they were in the hospital, but according to Symone, people love their relationship so much, love how they both fought to come home, that even the Capitol is going along with it. They’ve spoken of their ‘ingenuity’ and ‘determination’, because admitting two tributes outsmarted them makes them look like idiots. Symone’s heard whispers that Denali and Rosé have given hope to the districts, shown that the Games can be outsmarted, maybe even defeated. The fear of retaliation still lingers in Denali’s mind, but the Capitol can’t do anything to them--not without starting a riot or admitting that they were defeated by two women from District 12, the lowest of the low. They’re safe, and it’s something Denali hasn’t felt since she was a kid.

Rosé smiles. “And here I thought all this was an excuse to have us try on ugly clothes.”

Symone raises an eyebrow. “Well, maybe that was part of it.”

True to her word, Symone sends them behind the screen loaded with feathers and glitter, with sweeping boas and oversized hats. Denali gives into it, lets the joy fill her. She teases Rosé after she stumbles out in a pair of heels she put on backward, and all three of them laugh until they cry when Denali gets stuck in a pair of thigh-high boots.

When Symone finally shows them her sketches, eyes shining with the excitement of what she’s going to create, Denali just hugs her.

---

Rosé paces her dressing room while she waits for Denali. Symone insisted on them getting dressed in separate rooms, so they can be surprised when they see each other, but Rosé just wishes she were here. The thought of all the lights and noises and people, after such quiet and emptiness in the arena, is making Rosé nervous. But at least she won’t be alone.

She fiddles with the buttons of her jacket. Symone made her a suit, coal-black with tiny gold sparkles woven into it, picking up the color of her lion pin. It’s buttery against her skin, her armor for the night, probably her favorite thing she’s ever worn.

The door opens, and Rosé’s jaw drops.

Denali is in a soft dress that hugs all her muscles and curves. It’s the same coal-black as Rosé’s, with gold sparkles, and Symone made Denali a pin--a fox affixed to a circle bordered in forget-me-nots. They never got her mom’s necklace, and Rosé is grateful Denali at least has this.

“You look amazing,” Rosé says, her heart fluttering.

“You clean up pretty nice yourself.” Denali smirks, tracing her hands up Rosé’s arms.

Rosé turns to Symone, who looks like a goddess in white and gold. “Thank you, Symone.”

“For everything,” Denali adds.

Symone wipes her tears and pulls them into a hug, waving goodbye as they walk to the stage.

“Rosé?” Denali holds out her arm, and Rosé takes it. The wolf tore through Denali’s muscles and tendons, and though everything is fixed, she’s still a little unsteady on her feet. Rosé doesn’t let her fall as they cross the stage, and she’s grateful for the touch herself. It’s grounding against the roar of the crowd and the blinding lights.

There’s a couch on stage instead of a single chair, and Nina bounces in her seat as they sit down, speeding through small talk and jokes.

“I think I speak for everyone when I say that was quite a Games you two had! Was there a moment you really felt you could win it?”

Rosé gives Denali a nod, signaling that she’ll answer. “Well, I think we knew we had a good shot from the start. Our skills balance each other out, and we worked so well together in training. When they announced a team could win, we knew we had an even better chance, because of how strong we are together.”

Nina nods. “And I’m sure your relationship helped.”

“It sure did,” Denali says. “It helped us trust each other and it was just so nice to have a partner in the arena. It really helped.”

“There’s never been a finale like that in history,” Nina says. “What was going through your mind in that moment?”

And Rosé falters, her cheerful answers coming to a grinding halt. She and Denali haven't seen reason to talk about it, to dig at a fresh wound. They were both there, they know what they felt. Rosé didn’t think she’d have to discuss it with the world watching. She doesn’t want to talk about it. About how she broke down and cried in the arena, one thing she never wanted to do. About how she wanted to go home, but wouldn’t have been able to live with killing Denali. About how helpless it made her feel, how scared, how angry.

Denali squeezes her hand. “We were both pretty shocked. We weren’t expecting a rule change like that,” Denali says, and Nina nods sympathetically. “But I also knew how much I loved Rosé. I didn’t want to lose her, and I just couldn’t kill her. Not when I cared about her so much, you know? The berries were all I could think of to get us both home. And when we do get home, we’re gonna get an earful from Rosé’s sisters, let me tell you.”

Denali’s answer is perfect, Rosé knows. She just touched on the surprise of the rule change without directly blaming the Capitol, drawing real sympathy, then turned the focus to her love, not a hint of gloating for her brilliant idea. It’s perfect, and it’s enough for Nina, who moves on. By the time they walk off stage to thunderous applause, Rosé feels like she went another round in the arena.

They follow the same pattern for their Victory Tour: taking turns answering questions, joking and smiling, pretending everything is fine, that they don’t still think about the people they killed in the arena. People look at them with hope, with belief in a brighter future, and though it’s nice, Rosé is glad when they finish, when they’re free to go home and not act okay all the time.

“I’m glad that’s over.” Denali sighs beside her.

Rosé nods. “Let’s go home.”

---

It’s a quiet train ride. But it’s a peaceful, content quiet, not the tense silence they sat in on the way here. They sit next to each other, hands brushing on the seat, eating donuts and watching the world outside the window.

Rosé senses District 12 growing closer, sees the landscape change to rocky terrain, feels the coal dust in the air. Her leg bounces with excitement, but also something else. Something like fear.

It’s hard to go home after the arena. It’s so isolated, practically another planet, and the only rule is not to die. For weeks after she got back, Rosé was afraid to close her eyes, fearing someone would kill her in her sleep. She flinched when someone got close to her, hand automatically reaching for the sword that was no longer at her hip. There were smaller things too, like feeling out of place around people, out of place in her own life, dropped back into things after months away. She was lucky her family was there, that they didn’t give up on her. Even with their support, she still struggled. What if things are worse this time, and they give up? What if they’re so disgusted by what she did in the arena that they don’t want her around? What if the arena changed her in ways she didn’t want it to and her sisters won’t recognize her?

“Are you nervous to go home?” Denali asks quietly, like she read her mind.

Normally Rosé would keep it inside, push it down and pretend it’s not there, because she doesn’t want anyone to worry about her. But she’s with the only other person who knows that fear, and Rosé trusts her.

“It’s just...you know how it is. How weird it is to be home after everything. What if it doesn’t feel like home anymore?”

What if the arena has made such a home inside her that District 12 will be a stranger?

“I get it,” Denali says, pausing in thought. “You know, last time I kept getting lost in the woods after I got back. I went in those woods every day for ten years, and suddenly I kept taking wrong turns. I got used to it again, but I found new paths too. And I always found my way back.” She takes a breath. “So maybe it'll be weird at first. Maybe you’ll get lost. But I think you’ll find your way back.”

The words wash over her, smoothing out the knot in her stomach. “Thank you,” Rosé whispers. She manages a smile. “That was quite a speech.”

Denali shrugs, but she’s grinning. “I learned from the best.”

Denali holds her hand as they get off the train, but when they step on the platform, she lets go and gives Rosé a gentle push towards the two people waiting for her. Jan and Lagoona’s arms open up, and Rosé falls into them. She can’t think, can’t speak--there are no words. She just lets them hold her.

“We would've been on time, but Little Miss Donut got so excited she started peeing all over the place.”

Rosé lifts her head off Lagoona’s chest and sees Kahmora and Kandy, who’s struggling with a dog, walk to Denali. The dog jumps out of Kandy’s arms and into Denali’s, and Rosé just laughs. She’s glad they came to see Denali, glad she has someone to hug too.

Jan pulls away, mischievous gleam in her eyes the same as when she was five and tried to hide a stray cat in her bedroom. “So…” she begins.

“So?” Rosé asks, straight-faced, making her work for it.

“Give us the story! When did you realize you liked her? What did you say to her on the train? What did she say back? When did she realize she liked you? And what was in those damn donuts that made your stubborn ass talk about your feelings with her?” Jan demands, eyes as wide as dinner plates.

“And we want to hear about that kiss. It was so hot I would’ve covered my kid’s eyes if I had a kid,” Lagoona adds.

“Oooh, Lagoona wants to have a kid by the way, her boyfriend was really supportive during the Games stuff and she thinks he’d be a good dad--”

“Why are you telling my stories?” Lagoona asks. “I didn’t tell that you’re in love with that woman you talked to for five minutes--”

“I’m not in love with Jackie! It’s just a crush!”

“Rosé and Denali had crushes too, and we know how that ended.”

All Rosé can do is laugh. It makes her head spin, makes her a little sad to know she’s missed two months of her sisters’ lives, but it also makes her feel safe. Her sisters clearly don’t think any less of her, don’t plan to treat her any differently or love her any less, and she’ll answer every question they have, because she loves them.

---

Denali wakes up in her bed for the first time in two months. The bow is still at her feet, but her grip on the knife loosened in the night. The bed’s not as soft as the ones in the Capitol, but miles away from the ground in the arena. She’ll get used to it eventually.

She heads to the kitchen to get things ready for breakfast with Rosé. After the stress and intensity of the arena, they decided to take things slow at home, and breakfast this morning is their first official date. Denali bought new coffee mugs with her prize money, including a pink one just for Rosé, and she fills it with a spoon of cream and two spoons of sugar.

The doorbell rings, and Donut’s paws pound on the floor. Denali opens the door, keeping Donut behind her leg, and she can’t help but smile when she sees Rosé. She doesn’t look like she slept much, but some color is back in her cheeks, and it’s almost like seeing her for the first time.

“Good morning.”

“Morning,” Rosé says cheerfully.

Donut yips inquisitively and peeks her head out from behind Denali, creeping over to Rosé, who leans down and lets Donut sniff her cautiously.

“Her name is Donut. No one’s ever here besides me, so she’s not great with—“

Rosé grunts as Donut leaps on her chest, wagging her tail and licking at Rosé’s face.

“—People,” Denali finishes, smiling as Rosé gently pets Donut’s back, unsure at first, but growing more confident. “She really likes you. I’ve never seen her do that with anyone.”

“Maybe I just smell good,” Rosé says, but Denali can tell how excited she is that Donut approves of her.

“You do smell good,” Denali mumbles. Like a gentle hint of lavender.

Rosé smirks, following Denali to the kitchen table and sighing in joy when she sips her coffee. Denali brings over pancakes--on new plates--and they dig in. It's awkward at first, the silence a little too long to feel comfortable, and Denali worries that maybe they can’t do this outside the arena. Can their relationship live when the arena partly created it? But Rosé talks about what her sisters did last night, about how she almost tripped in her shower this morning, and things fall back into place. Pretty soon, they’re laughing like they did when they were kids, and Denali knows this can work.

---

“Now, Denali, are you ready to learn from a master?”

“I think I’d take you more seriously if you weren’t wearing a polka dot apron.”

Rosé crosses her arms and glares, but Denali can’t help it. There’s something about her red hair pulled back in a ponytail, about the pink-and-white polka dot apron covering her black T-shirt, that makes Denali want to laugh and kiss her at the same time.

“That would look intimidating without the apron,” Denali says, watching Rosé’s glare melt into a smile as she laughs.

“We’ll see who’s laughing when you have flour and butter all over you and I’m nice and clean,” Rosé teases.

They’re in the back of the bakery, and Rosé is showing Denali how to make a cake. Denali was always mesmerized by the cakes in the window as a kid--hell, she still is now. Denali has steady hands, can do just about anything with her bow, but she can’t imagine making such beautiful cakes with nothing but frosting.

Rosé shows her how to beat the butter and sugar, marveling at the pale yellow. She pouts and calls Rosé a showoff after she cracks eggs one-handed, only to gasp when Rosé’s hand carefully curls around hers and shows her how to do it. They measure the dry ingredients, and Denali, true to Rosé’s word, gets flour all over her shirt. Denali loses herself in the steady motions of the mixer, watching it smooth everything into cake batter. They wash up while it bakes, wordlessly passing measuring cups and spoons back and forth, their hips and shoulders gently bumping into each other.

When it’s time to decorate, Denali just sits back and watches. Rosé’s grip around the piping bag is light, squeezing out little blobs of blue icing. Denali pictures those same hands gripping a sword so strongly, so fiercely. She pictures Rosé swinging it, the spray of blood that follows--

She takes a breath and blinks, forcing it away. She’s safe and in the bakery, not in the arena. There’s no blood. They both hate all the killing they’ve had to do, the blood they’ve shed. But those things aren’t the only things they’ve done. Their hands can pick flowers and decorate cakes as well as kill, and maybe it’s what they want to do that matters. What they choose to do.

Rosé is self-conscious at first, eyes flashing to Denali over and over. She’s probably never had anyone besides family watch her, but she quickly relaxes, loses herself in the movements. Denali’s heart melts at the focus in her eyes, the way her tongue sticks out a little, the way her nose scrunches, loving all the new parts of Rosé she gets to see. Once the top is covered in flowers--blue and purple and pink and yellow--they cut it up, laughing when they go back for seconds at the same time.

---

“I really hope this view is worth me being up this early,” Rosé mutters, trudging through the woods behind Denali.

“It is, trust me.”

Rosé just nods. She’s had a rough few days. She did so well right after she got back, distracted by days catching up with her sisters, meeting with Denali. But it’s been a few months now, and that peace wouldn’t hold forever. She’s been tired and jumpy and irritable this week, even if she didn’t want to be. Part of her was afraid that the bad days would scare Denali off, but they haven’t. Because Denali understands.

They both knew a relationship wouldn’t be an instant cure, wouldn’t magically heal them. But it helps. It helps that when Rosé can’t leave the house, Denali comes over to check on her and makes sure she eats. It helps that when Denali’s leg hurts and she's gasping in fear, convinced her leg is damaged, Rosé tells her it’s not and massages out the aches. It helps that on days when they're haunted by nightmares and memories, they have someone to talk to, someone to prove they're not alone in what they feel.

Rosé felt better today, and agreed to go walk with Denali, to see the autumn leaves in early sunlight. Denali moves with the same effortless skill she did in the arena, knowing just which way to turn, which path to take. Rosé will always be in awe of how she does it, casually pointing out the flowers and leaves they pass and teling Rosé all about them.

“--and this is the milkweed plant, butterflies like to eat it--what?” Denali asks, and Rosé realizes she’s staring at her with a huge smile on her face.

“I just--I love you,” Rosé says. She loved Denali in the arena--loved her before that, if she really admits it--but she loves the Denali she’s come to know at home. The Denali who rolls around on the floor when she plays with Donut. Who burrows into oversized sweaters and tucks her hands inside the sleeves. Who laughs more and more, her eyes crinkling when she does.

“I love you too,” Denali says. It’s the first time they’ve said it outside the arena, on their own, and it fills Rosé with warmth. Denali offers her hand. “Come on, we’re here.”

Rosé takes her hand and lets Denali lead her down into a valley of gold. The trees around them glimmer with reds and oranges and yellows, the bright morning sun making everything shine. It’s a brilliant reminder that she’s alive, that she’s still here to see things like this. The arena feels like a distant memory, and her home is right here, with Denali.

“Told you it’d be worth it.”

“It is.” Rosé watches the sun dance at the edges of Denali’s hair. “Denali, can I kiss you?”

“Of course.”

It’s the first kiss on their own, with no cameras. A first kiss without the danger of the arena, or the pressure of needing it to survive. A kiss that’s entirely theirs.

---

Snow flutters to the ground as December begins, but Rosé doesn’t mind the cold. It’s warm enough in her house. Jan, Lagoona, Kandy, and Kahmora--they’d become friendly and supported each other watching the Games--came up with the idea for a weekly dinner, as long as Rosé and Denali are feeling up to it. They both were today, and it’s extra special because Jan brought Jackie, who she’s officially dating, and Lagoona and her boyfriend have news. Rosé’s pretty sure she knows what it is, but she’ll let them tell it.

Rosé spent the day making a chocolate sweet bread for dessert. It’s been years since she lost herself in baking like that. Denali helped, but she really just watched and ate chocolate. Everyone devours it and praises her, and it it feels good, to be loved.

Lagoona looks up from her coffee and Rosé sees that look in her eyes and she knows, she knows, and she’s already out of her seat to hug her when Lagoona announces that she’s pregnant.

Rosé’s eyes are damp, but the tears really fall when Lagoona grabs her hands and says that if it’s a girl, they’re naming her Rosie.

---

Denali sticks around to help with the dishes, enjoying the easy silence with Rosé. They finish much too quickly, and Denali suddenly realizes she doesn’t want to make the thirty-second walk back to her house. After all the laughs and love at dinner, she doesn’t want to be alone tonight.

“Everything okay?” Rosé asks.

Denali hesitates. “Um, can--can I stay here tonight? I...home seems too quiet, you know?”

“Of course,” Rosé says, and Denali knows she understands. “I have a guest room, if you--”

Denali blushes, but she trusts Rosé enough for what she wants to ask. “Can I stay in your bed? If that’s okay?”

Rosé blushes too. “It’s okay.”

Rosé cackles when her pajamas are a little big on Denali, and Denali just whacks her with a too-long sleeve. Denali slips beneath the sheets, and realizes that not only is she sleeping with someone next to her, but she doesn’t have her bow. She has a knife--always has at least one--but no bow. What if she needs it? What if something bad happens, and she’s defenseless? But Rosé is warm and comforting next to her, and Denali feels...safe. She felt safe with Rosé in the arena, and she feels safe with her now. She sets the knife on the nightstand, still within reach, and falls asleep.

---

Denali wakes with the sun like she always does. Rosé is still asleep, curled up on her side just inches from Denali, and her heart warms at Rosé looking so peaceful. Neither of them had a nightmare, and Denali is grateful. Maybe they can heal eventually. Maybe the heaviness in their chests, the weights on their minds, will eventually lighten so much it won’t hurt.

By this time, Denali normally would have memorized the footage of the latest Games, and thought of strategies for the new tributes she’d have to mentor. But she hasn’t watched a second of any Games since she got home. Maybe she doesn’t have to fight the Games--fight the whole world--tooth and nail, doesn’t have to keep running to stay ahead of them. Maybe she can beat them, can be okay, without that. She takes another peek at Rosé, at the smooth lines of her face, the soft red waves framing her cheeks. At least she won’t have to do it alone.

Denali snuggles back down, wincing when her movement wakes Rosé, who gives her a sleepy smile.

"Sorry," Denali whispers. "Didn't mean to wake you."

"It's okay." Rosé motions for Denali to come closer, and Denali does, turning her back on her knife and resting her head on Rosé's chest.

"You're pretty comfy," she teases.

Rosé just grins. "I think today is gonna be a good day," she says, and Denali nods, melting into Rosé's arms. She's hopeful today, more than she's been in a while. There were the whispers Jackie shared last night, of hope through the districts. There was Lagoona’s news, the excitement of knowing the future can be brighter. Denali wants that future, wants it with Rosé. She wants to be there for good days and bad days, the happy parts of Rosé and the sad parts of her too. They're alive, still here through it, and Denali wants to live, wants to watch the sun and eat cake and play in the snow, take every good second she gets.

Maybe there will come a day when the Games are gone, when kids won’t live in fear of getting chosen. When what happened to them won’t happen to anyone else. The odds are pretty low, Denali knows.

But she’s beaten worse odds before.