#Tis the Season prompts

[im-totally-not-an-alien-2]

Halloween prompts no. 1

Phantom gets smacked through a portal and lands directly in front of Darskeid, who immediately begins to monolog before trying to induct Phantom into his army. Our glowy boy isn't having it though and they fight.

Darkseid is actually impressed by the child's battle prowess and the ability to deflect his Omega beams, but he makes a crucial mistake.

He underestimated Phantom.

Needless to say, Danny was forced to kill the dark god in order to escape. (Or his avatar??) He has a hard time, even though he knows this is probably the most evil guy he's had to defeat and this is the first time he's had to kill. Sadly it won't be the last either as a tyrannical government won't be destroyed simply by destroying one part of it, no matter how powerful that part is. Also, Darkseids more loyal followers and his son are chasing him throughout Apokolips, trying to kill him.

After killing many of the people following him since he had to use lethal force just to get them to stop moving he was in a pretty rough state mentally and just wanted to return to the zone and find the portal. If he had plans to cry into the soft fabric of his sisters sweater than that was nobodies business but his own. Somehow, as he curled up in a nook in a large boulder somewhere his wish was granted and the entirety of Apokolips-the whole planet- was transported into the ghost zone.

Danny could hardly believe it. But his troubles weren't over. Soon after the world was teleported, the skeletons of the zone began rising and fighting off the parademons and whatnot from Apokolips and whenever an enemy soldier fell they were transformed into a skeletal version of whatever they were and fought against their still living companions.

Once the battle was over, the people of Apokolips were subdued, and Phanyom was completely worn out he left back into Amity Park and stole some of his parents force field generators and returned to find the planet was already surrounded by a ghostly force field that refused to let anything out. Shrugging, Danny went home and decided not to question it.

Now. About that crying/ therapy session.

Danny didn't know how the world was transported into the zone or why. Nor did he know why the skeletons were so keen on protecting him. Might have something to do with him being the Ghost King via "right of conquest" after he defeated Pariah Dark. Sadly the Observants and other people in power purposely kept that information from him so he would know to take the throne.(Clockwork was vetoed and ordered not to say anything to the boy. He only smirked in response) Now that same "right of conquest" has made it were everything that once belonged to Darkseid now belonged to Phantom and was being transported into the zone and isolated by it.

The Justice League noticed the entire planet disappeared and went to investigate.

[isitovers]

it’s that time of year again besties <3

[corvase]

hii, can you do prompts for a couple exchanging christmas gifts? and maybe some ideas for what those gifts can be? thanks a lot

romantic christmas gift-giving prompts

i’m not really sure what to do along the lines of ideas of what the gifts should be. i think gifts should be something that is unique to your characters rather than unique to my mind (if that makes sense). i wouldn’t want to encourage you to try to use my gift prompts and force them to fit your characters and whatever plot they’re in: your gift should be something you think your characters would love. think about these for help:

what has your character mentioned wanting to their love interest?

even if they haven’t mentioned it, what could they use?

consider whether it’s physical and if so if it’s made by them or bought

what if the gift was something for them to enjoy together?

edible gifts are very cute (i would love a little platter of heart shaped cookies for a gift)

do they even need to receive a gift…? not that gifts aren’t great but i think acts of kindness or love are also really beautiful. moreover giving and expecting something in return isn’t really good

dialogue prompts

“what is this?”

“you can’t afford this…” “it’s okay.”

“this is the most thoughtful thing i’ve ever received. thank you.”

“you didn’t have to get me anything.” “are you kidding? i love you.”

“oh gosh. i haven’t gotten you—” “stop. i know, and it’s okay. i just wanted to do something for you.”

“what do you want for christmas?” “you.” “haha very funny.”

a whispered talk in bed like “hmm… how about you and me… just the two of us. we go, i don’t know, ice skating and sit in the car and just talk for hours with a cup of cocoa?” “you had me at you and me.”

“i told you i didn’t want anything.” “and i told you to let me care for you.”

“i’m so grateful for you this christmas. i don’t need anything else.”

hope this helps!

[emotionally-resilient-sniper]

Sniper was never too keen on holidays- they always felt like big grand bloody messes that put a wrench in the usual routine. One of the biggest offenders now though, was Halloween.

For whatever reason, every year without fail, something went bodgy. Maybe someone's bloody eye grew to the size of a blimp and shot lasers at them. Maybe there was some bloke that ran around with a pumpkin for a head and a massive fuck-off axe. The list could go on- they'd been in the game for a good while.

He wasn't looking forward to what that year's Halloween would bring, but regardless he sat in his camper sharpening his knives and keeping an eye on the windows. The desert was deceptively calm- the gentle autumn wind rustling some of the sand this way or that. The sun was just beginning to slink below the horizon and give the moon her turn to glow over their part of the world. She was familiar, as were many of the stars that surrounded her. His folks were buried somewhere beneath that very same moon- the thought comforted him. The peace of the evening was interrupted by a worrying silence- no desert owls hooting or buzzing of flies around the lights emitted from the base no more than a meter away. The quiet was broken by a low that set the marksman's hair on end and sent his hand in the direction of where his rifle sat, already cleaned and prepped for whatever the season was to bring this year. Maybe Halloween had come early? No.. no, this was likely just a pack of wolves, but then hadn't that population always been relatively low?

His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of heavy footfalls pausing abruptly at his door. His hands were properly full of rifle now, but whoever was at his door would be too close to fire at. He cursed under his breath and set the weapon down, instead opting for his bushwacka as he slowly approached the door.

[solar-halos]

december prompt #7: joy

some odesta fluff under the cut! :o)

Finnick’s coming home!

It’s been an eternity (two weeks) since Annie’s seen him. Kinda. She’s seen him a lot on TV, with his Victory Tour being filmed and everything, but she hasn’t seen him. Hasn’t braided his hair or challenged him to a race or talked his ear off or anything.

Annie bounces on the balls of her feet, perking up at the sound of a train approaching. So does the rest of the district—Finnick was quite popular with the youngest victor in Panem history thing going for him—but she’s the only one he smiles at. He surges forward, the crowd parting just for him, and spins her around in a long-awaited hug.

“Hi, darling!” He smiles at her, even though he looks so tired. Maybe she’ll have to put their race to the buoy and back on hold. “I missed you.”

She swoons. She can’t help it. He looked like he was having so much fun up there, in between all the silly dances they have in District 10 and the even sillier food they have in the Capitol, but she likes that she takes up a permanent place in his mind. It makes their love feel a lot more grown up.

The crowd starts to get restless—weirdos—so Finnick grasps onto her hand so they don’t get separated. They eventually make it out, even if Annie has to let go of him to button up her cardigan. She felt like an extremely slimy sardine packed into that too-warm crowd, but now the wind whips against her hair.

“Cold?” he asks her. She nods, shuffling closer to him, so he hooks an arm around her shoulders to combat all the shivering she’s doing. “Better?”

Not really, so they make a pitstop at his house so she can chuck on one of his sweaters. Annie can’t remember the last time District 4 got so cold, but at least now she has an excuse to bundle herself up in all of Finnick’s clothes.

“You’re such a freak,” she informs him, because he walks out of the house in the same outfit he entered in. He must have a lot of faith in those flimsy linen pants. “You should take a blanket or something. I don’t know why it’s been so brutal this week.”

“You’re the freak,” he retorts, but they know they’re both joking, so they grin at each other. “There’s barely even a breeze.”

She snuggles closer to him in retaliation. He gives her a gentle squeeze.

“I saw what it was like for you in the Capitol,” she says. She’s close enough to feel the miniscule shift of his muscles, but he relaxes when she adds, “all the snow. You were practically drowning in it. It probably feels warm here, doesn’t it?”

“Unfortunately,” he replies, voice shifting into something stretchy and high pitched. Capitol. “Hiding my tux with a snow jacket is not very suitable behavior for a gentleman. Besides, I was being rather dramatic anyway. Don’t you think so?”

Annie smiles. “So dramatic,” she agrees, but that’s all she can manage before her Four accent starts peeking through. “I was actually thinking about that—all the icicles up there, I mean. They kinda remind me of toothpicks, so I got a ton of paint and glue and made a winter castle out of it.”

“Annie, that’s fucking awesome.” He looks at her like he’s betrayed she didn’t share this information with him sooner. She giggles at his theatrics. “What else have you been up to while I was away?”

That was gonna take awhile, and they both know it, so they get comfortable. They roll out the picnic blanket, laying out all the snacks they packed, and Finnick rests his head against Annie’s lap. She never knew how much she could miss playing with hair. It’s something that’s as familiar to her as breathing (or swimming really, really fast), but her heart turns to mush anyway.

“I missed you,” she says, because she doesn’t think she got around to telling him that. Her fingers brush over his jaw. His lips quirk up in a smile, reaching up to press a kiss to her fingertips—all ten of them. “They canceled school, you know, ‘cause of the rain. My mom said that was way too dramatic, but—and do not tell her this, or else she’s gonna freak!—I tried to sneak out, but I couldn’t even see anything. Not even my own hands.”

“Think it might storm soon? Like, storm-storm?”

“I hope so!” Storms weren’t so bad, as long as they weren’t accompanied by shipwrecks and damaged houses. “Then I’ll have to sleep over, and my mom can’t even be mad about it!”

Finnick grins, holding her hand to his chest. “Let’s take a moment to wish on it.”

So they do. They close their eyes, listen to the sound of the waves lapping at the shore for a few seconds, and open them back up.

Annie cranes her neck, examining the sky. “Think it worked?”

“Hope so,” Finnick replies. “It should be illegal for us to spend more than two days away from each other. I don’t know how I survived two weeks.”

That makes two of them. Annie was pretty sure they’d find a way to get her to sleep over at his house—or vice versa—no matter what, but a bit of rain would certainly help.

Annie’s so happy when it starts sprinkling that she reaches out to catch some of the raindrops on her fingers, Finnick’s head nearly jostling off of her lap. It picks up a little bit over the next few minutes, but it’s nowhere near as intense as a rainstorm. She can still see Finnick’s smiling face, and she can definitely make out his silhouette, so she grabs onto his hand and squishes her toes into the damp sand.

Finnick pushes his wet hair out of his face, scooping her up in a celebratory hug. “Holy shit, babe! It worked!”

It did. They are very talented wishers, and even more talented dancers. Slippery skin meets slippery skin as they spin and jump around, the indents in the sand making for perfect impromptu puddles. Annie falls over more than once, and so does Finnick, but that’s where most of the fun comes from.

Their sporadic dancing eventually fades into a simple, lazy sidestep. She leans her head against his chest, sighing against his soaking wet shirt. She missed him.

If she had it her way, they would have stayed out there all day. But then Finnick’s hand snags on a tangle of curls at the base of her neck, and she has to admit defeat. They hunt down their runaway picnic blanket, link hands, and book it to his porch.

Now it’s Annie’s turn to brush Finnick’s hair from his eyes. She sheds off her outfit in exchange for another change of dry clothes, but you won’t catch her complaining about it. Finnick’s clothes are nice and warm on her, like one of his trademark hugs.

Now that they’re all cleaned up, that leads them to their first order of business: hot chocolate. She applies a tower of whipped cream over her mug. He dumps in nearly half a can of sprinkles.

And then comes the pillow forts. They ransack his closet for blankets and practically take apart his couch for all the cushions, but it’s essential that they’re as cozy as possible.

Her favorite part is the cuddling. Finnick apologizes for the carpeted floor not being very comfortable, inviting her into his arms instead, and she’s on the brink of assuring him that his floor is very comfortable before she catches on. She blushes against his chest.

His dad eventually coaxes the both of them out with dinner and the promise to not send Annie home unless someone calls for her, but they don’t have to worry about their reunion being cut short at all. It’s still raging outside, and Annie’s parents don’t feel comfortable sending her outside in this sort of weather.

She hugs Finnick close, something nice and fun and fizzy dancing along her skin. She holds the receiver to her ear, listening to her parents lecture her about how she and Finnick are not allowed to share a room, but she’s honestly not really paying attention. She can’t, when Finnick’s smiling against her cheek. She smiles back.

They fall asleep bundled up in each other’s arms, ‘cause her parents never said anything about sharing a pillow fort. Annie is good at a lot of things, and loopholes are at the top of her list. She has to be, with a boyfriend like Finnick Odair.

“Love you,” he informs her, only half-conscious. She presses a sleepy kiss to his shoulder.

Finnick is home, and as long as she’s in his arms, so is she. She wouldn’t have it any other way.

[awlimagines]

Snow Scare (Rock's First Kiss)

You frowned in disgust when you first glanced out your window. How is it that it was the beginning of Fall and snow littered the ground? The weather channel said it should melt by the afternoon, and you only hoped the snow didn’t irreparably damage your new crops. Your heart dropped the moment you opened the door. The crops were forgotten as your eyes focused on footprints etched into the crisp snow. 

You took a deep breath, steadying your nerves. There were two sets of footprints. One set sank deeply into the thin layer of snow, revealing the ground in patches. The path led from Takakura’s house to the shipping box before circling back to the entrance and leaving the farm. These had to belong to Takakura and his heavy, trudging gait. That explained the least concerning set of tracks. 

The other set was smaller. They led from the farm’s entrance to your side window before ending at the barn doors. Who would have reason to peer through your window while you were sleeping? You uneasily made a note to ask Van for thicker curtains. You swallowed, fighting the thudding of your heart in your chest. Should you run for town? You hesitated, considering your poor animals. You couldn’t let them be hurt. Quick steps took you to the edge of your fields to grab the discarded hoe from tilling. Your hands wrapped firmly around the smooth wood before you climbed the fence and paused at the barn doors. 

You hoped to catch the trespasser off guard entering from the field. You took one final deep breath before bursting into the barn. Your loud entrance shocked the person, who dove into a pile of hay to hide. 

“You can’t hide! I know you’re there!” you yelled, hoping you didn’t sound scared. 

“Whoa, whoa! It’s okay, sorry,” Rock poked his head from the straw. 

“What are you doing?!” you couldn’t help but scream. The blonde had terrified you. Rock seemed to understand this if his shocked, gaping mouth was anything to judge by. 

“Surprise?” he weakly smiled and gestured toward the doors. You leaned the hoe against the wall and walked across the barn to see what he was trying to show you. Hanging on by a single thread above the doors was a bunch of mistletoe. 

“Don’t you think it’s a bit early for that?” 

“Hey, they say it’s first come, first served!” Rock protested in defense. When he saw your eyebrow quirk, he thought before amending his statement. “Or maybe it was early bird gets the worm. Toe-may-toe, toe-mah-toe. The point is that I’m here with the first snowfall, so you should feel grateful.” 

“Grateful that you’re not a murderer?” 

You fought back laughter as you watched the blonde struggle to explain his intentions. You couldn’t believe more than half a year had gone since you came to the valley. Your life had changed so much in that time, you realized as Rock babbled. You couldn’t agree with Rock’s laid-back and noncommittal views when you could lose everything again. Impulsively, you caught his face between your hands before planting a solid kiss on his lips beneath the mistletoe.

“W-what was that for?”

“You’re the one who hung the mistletoe!” you blushed in response to his red face. 

“Yeah, but I didn’t think you’d do it,” Rock mumbled. “That was my first kiss, too. You’re going to have to take responsibility now.”

[toonsforkicks22]

Work…is the worst.

I only managed to draw days 7-12 (Day 9+10 mixed) just now.

Happy to see everyone having fun with the Wadember prompt!

[mossymandibles]

I would enjoy some asks if people had any questions about characters or something?

I’m kind of bored and wanna take my mind off the absolute dread I feel for the work week.

[dragonballaday]

october 1 2022 - big turnip for day one of @gokutober

[viovayo]

Ends / Means

Reiji Akaba was in the family business of killing monsters. But that had never been the end goal, had it?

6.6k words, vampire AU pendulumship, written for @entamewitchlulu as part of this year's Yu-Gi-Oh! Mini Exchange

Read on AO3

[aurora-australis-tumbles]

Hi! 😍 I'm so sad that you can't do Fic Off anymore, but the December Prompt thing sounds great. So, if you please, I'd like 21 and 29 for Phrack. And thank you so much for doing this. 💖💖💖

No, no, we just can’t do it this year. @arlome and I have high hopes of returning to Fic Off next year, and special plans in the works for the spring as well, so 2023 has a lot of promise — at least as far as our fic collaborations go. 😂 But writing prompts in December has become a lovely tradition for me, so I wanted to keep that going as I was able this year anyway, and I thank YOU for the prompts. ❤️

That said... I have no idea if this is what you were looking for. 😂 But the prompt heart wants what it wants, I suppose, and apparently this is what it wanted for wrapping paper (21) and wishes (29)!

-------

Jack Robinson was a man who noticed things.

He couldn’t help it; he was, by nature and profession, a detective. 

And, he could finally admit (to himself and the world), the object of his noticing these days was very often Phryne Fisher. 

He knew things now. Knew how she took her tea, and when she preferred coffee, and what she looked like before she’d had either. He knew which songs she played to liven up a party, and where her favourite reading spot was, and which libations made her sick as an adult after overindulgences in her youth.

He knew because he noticed.

And something he’d noticed, which seemed a bit strange to him, was how she opened gifts.

For a woman who always seemed to be operating at top speed, she took a surprising amount of time and care when opening presents. There was almost a reverence there, which he found intriguing. So, one day, he asked her about it.

She was quiet, for a moment, and he worried that he’d overstepped, but then she smiled at him, a little embarrassed, a little sad, and shook her head.

“It was a game,” she explained quietly. “Stupid and silly, but Janey liked it. If you could open your present without ripping the wrapping paper, then you would get what you wished for. We hardly ever got presents, of course, just from Aunt P at Christmas and mother for our birthdays — when she could hide enough away from father, anyway. But we still played it, Janey and Arthur and me.” The smile got a little sadder then. “And now I’m the only one left who remembers that. Maybe that’s why I still do it. That or it’s just muscle memory.” She shrugged, the motion uncharacteristically stilted. “And either way I stopped believing in wishes long ago.”

“What about Guy?” Jack asked, though he suspected he knew the answer. She shook her head.

“Guy refused to play, but somehow always got what he wanted anyway,” she told him with a raised eyebrow and a bit more of her regular spark.

“Ah,” Jack replied. “Still, I think it must work sometimes,” he concluded.

“Oh?”

“Of course. Why do you think I’m so gentle with your clothes?” he asked with a suggestive waggle of his eyebrows. She laughed at that, dispelling the last of her melancholy just as he’d hoped, and went back to opening the elaborate stationary set her mother had sent to her along with no small amount of subtext.

Still... Jack now noticed a wistfulness at the edges of her expression whenever the subject of gifts came up.

He was a detective, after all.

And so, with no small amount of his own subtext, on the 21st of December, Jack arrived at Wardlow bearing gifts.

A scarf he’d seen her eyeing and a book that had somehow gone missing from the evidence locker and a plain white envelope.

As was her habit, she took a great deal of care in unwrapping her presents, and she was deeply moved and grateful for each, but when she got to the envelope, she stopped.

“It’s empty,” she informed him.

She was, of course, a detective too.

“It is,” he confirmed. “It’s also used.”

She raised an eyebrow. “How... thrifty of you, Jack.” He rolled his eyes.

“Used and completely intact,” he added with emphasis.

She nodded as one might for a small child showing you some new nursery rhyme they’d just learned. “Yes, well done you, Jack,” she teased with bemused amusement. “Clearly nobody opens an envelope more fastidiously in all of Melbourne.”

He fought the urge to roll his eyes again — it was her birthday. 

“This is a special envelope,” he explained. “It’s the one you hid in my desk the day before you flew off.”

She looked back at the paper in surprise. “With my address in London?” she asked, though it wasn’t really a question.

“Mmmm,” he confirmed. “I’m afraid the address came with me, but the envelope I tucked in my office drawer. Not quite sure why... probably all the fastidiousness,” he supposed with a self-deprecating shrug. “But lucky I did keep it, because now there is a chain of evidence.”

“Of what?” she asked, still staring at the envelope.

“That was a gift, Phryne. I knew it at the time. And outstretched hand and a gift of trust, from you to me. And when I opened it, I didn’t rip the paper. And do you know what?”

“What?” she whispered, beginning to understand.

“That’s when I got everything I wished for.”

She looked up then, eyes wet, and smiled tremulously. “Is that so?”

“It is,” he confirmed, reaching over to hold her free hand. “And now I’m going to push my luck by making another request; keep up your tradition. All of it. Because if you stop believing entirely, well, that would be a world with a little less Phryne Fisher in it. And what kind of world would that be?”

She snorted and Jack pushed his luck just a little bit further.

“We can remember them together.”

Phryne was quiet then, and Jack held his breath — this was more sentimentality than either of them was used to or generally comfortable with and there was every chance she would not appreciate his own outstretched hand just now. But then she smiled, wide and unencumbered and beautiful, and Jack’s breath stopped for an entirely different reason.

She squeezed his hand and opened the envelope, not tearing it a jot — it wasn’t sealed, so it wasn’t that hard, but Jack was hardly going to point that out on her birthday — before leaning over and kissing him soundly.

“Well,” she said, when she finally pulled back and smoothed her hair into place. “Look at that. Seems my wish came true after all.”

Jack barked out a laugh and shook his head, and she winked, before meaningfully glancing back behind her towards the stairs.

“Let me guess,” he said, taking her hand and the hint and leading her in that general direction. “You have one or two other wishes still on the docket?”

She shrugged, but he wasn’t fooled a bit. 

He was a detective, he couldn’t help it.

And, he could finally admit, he didn’t want to either.

-------

December Prompts

[b0nelessdoodles]

🐰

this made me realize that i don't have a fav animal of like any of my ocs except for andela and even they're a stretch 'cause their favorite animal is just their caretaker's favorite 'cause she hasn't figured out her own yet

[be-compromised]

Secret Santa 2022 - Sign Ups

This is an annual be_compromised fic exchange where you (1) sign up with ideas/prompts for what kind of gift you’d like, then in (2) a second Choices Post you get to choose from an anonymous list of everyone’s ideas/prompts for what gift you'd like to give. Everyone gets a gift and makes a gift, and it's all anonymous until reveals at the end.

The exchange is run on Dreamwidth but you don’t need an account to join. You just need an email address and to comment on Dreamwidth (using OpenID).

To find out more and to sign up please go here.

SIGN UP: from now until 6pm / 18:00 GMT Sunday 9th October CHOICES POST: will go up as soon as possible and be available until MIDDAY GMT Sunday 16th October ASSIGNMENTS SENT OUT: we aim to have these to you within the following few days SUBMISSION POST we’ll post details to the Comm on how to submit your gift at the end of November / early December SUBMISSION DEADLINE: MIDNIGHT (whatever your time zone) Sunday 11th December GIFT POSTING: in the run up to Christmas! We usually post 2 to 4 fics a day in the week or two leading up to the big day depending on the number of participants and fics received. Reveals and a masterlist will be posted before the 25th.

[thepavementsings]

Whoever wrote the Piarles Dick in a box kinkmeme request, please know you are my favourite person on planet earth.

[solar-halos]

december prompt #6: snowflakes

mr and mrs everdeen fluff under the cut! mr everdeens name is kolton and mrs everdeen’s name is grace in this btw

Mother Nature was out to get him.

She had to be. The first time Kolton even tried to kiss Grace, it got interrupted by an explosion in the mines and the upheaval of his entire day. And, when she had kissed him, he barely had time to kiss her back before the randomest fuckin’ rainstorm cut it short.

It’s one sided beef. Good thing Kolton is very good at hunting.

Grace never likes watching him hunt—she always wants to heal the animals he pierces with his arrows, which wasn’t very good for (his) business—so he waits until he’s made all his trades before he knocks on her door.

She’s wrapping a scarf around her neck, cheeks already flushed from the cold. He feels better just seeing her—kinda makes him forget that he has nothing but a flimsy jacket to protect him from the biting wind.

Who cares? Grace bites him harder.

If only he wasn’t wearing his hunting clothes. He misses all of her celebratory nibbles on the shoulders, even if he’d never admit it.

Or maybe he would. With Mother Nature conspiring against him, that might be all he’s ever gonna get.

“I’m so glad you’re here,” she’s saying, which is something he wholeheartedly agrees with. Mother Nature can’t hate him that much if they get to spend so much uninterrupted time together, so he squeezes her hand and basks in the warmth of her smile.

Snow crunches under his hunting boots. Perfect. It’s not soft enough that it immediately crumbles under their feet, but they can carve out a place to play tic-tac-toe and hopscotch. Drawing was a bit harder, but after Kolton retrieves them a stick to thwack the ground with, they manage to produce something vaguely picture-shaped.

Kolton tilts his head to the side. “A monkey?”

“Squirrel.”

“Close enough,” he decides. “It’s a good drawing either way. It’s the stick that’s fuckin’ defective.”

She laughs as he tosses it to the side, as if it deeply offended him. (And it sorta has. Stupid fuckin’ splinters.) “Wanna play another game of tic-tac-toe?”

Kolton doesn’t usually like the snow—it’s so much harder to sneak up on prey when he’s shivering so hard his bones rattle outside his body—but he can see the appeal when Grace is around. Even if it’s hard as cement under their feet, and especially when Grace lays down a blanket that’s thick enough for them to sit on without getting their pants all wet.

She nestles her icy cold nose into his neck, the gesture oddly soothing against the contrast of her warm breath. He’s still hot from all the running around they did, but it’s not unpleasant. It’s kinda like drawing a bath after being knee-deep in snow, so he presses a kiss to the top of her head and leans into her some more.

“We should go to the lake someday,” he tells her, “when it warms up. I could teach you how to swim, or we could just wade out by the shallows.”

“Yeah,” she replies, even though they both know it’s an empty promise. She hasn’t had much practice with breaking rules—Capitol rules least of all. But the lake’s so pretty during the summertime that it feels more illegal that they can’t go swimming in it. “And maybe I’ll teach you how to use a syringe.”

Kolton’s stomach lurches at the thought. He could handle rabbits and bunnies and arrow-shaped holes. People were a different story.

“Point taken.”

He feels her smile against his shoulder. Now his stomach’s lurching in a completely new way.

He’s not really sure how to handle this whole kissing thing, so he leaves it up to her. Haymitch always swoons over how gentlemanly he is for that (because he’s a fuckin’ asshole), but if Kolton ever thought he needed to worry about anything more than putting food on the table, he would have started practicing this whole kissing thing sooner.

Or maybe he wouldn’t. He can’t imagine kissing anyone else other than Grace.

And, holy shit, does he kiss Grace. Her fingers curl around his shirt and he’s tilting his head to the side and then everything goes all pleasant and fuzzy for a few seconds.

And then, like clockwork, everything goes haywire.

Something cold and jarring lands on his nose, but he ignores it because Grace is parting her lips for him and he can’t believe they’ve made it this far, and it worked for a while. But then his face is practically drenched from the sudden onslaught of snow raining down on them, and so is hers, and they have to pull away before the snowflakes could fuse their faces together or something.

Snowflakes. Add that to his list of enemies.

He lets out a harsh breath through his nose, tilting his face up for proof of Mother Nature’s scorn. A snowflake plops onto his forehead. Grace wipes it away with her index finger, but she’s not any better off, so they get a move on.

They bundle up the blanket and make a break for the Hob. He holds it up over their heads as a shield, both of them giggling the whole way there, because everything is so much funnier when you’re in a relationship with the most dazzling girl in Panem.

He pulls out a stool for her, shaking off his jacket. “After you, m’lady.”

She giggles, dotting a kiss to his cheek. He leans in to kiss her back, ignoring the feeling of his waterlogged boots and snow-coated jacket.

And that’s perfectly okay. Mother Nature can’t follow him to Greasy Sae’s—there’s nothing organic going on behind that kitchen.

[puddingcatbeans]

UNWRAP YOUR SPOTIFYS!!!!!!!

send me a number for some taiwan pop / asian r&b recs, and share with me your corresponding song!

bonus points: tell me the story behind the song, why did you stream it so much? how did you find it? what does it remind you of?? let's turn up the music!