#tiny sanford

[chaplinfortheages]

"The Circus" 1928

[trancegnder]

designs 4 my combats

[mysteryfox1]

I know I'm late to say this but happy madness day everyone!

I wanted to wait a bit to post this news til after madness combat 12 but now that it's out. The future kids blog will be out soon!

[indigovigilance]

Honolulu Roast: the story of a coup

This is a crack meta, but I think I found something. I cite as inspo and incorporate by reference this coffee shop scene breakdown by @snek-eyes and response meta by @embracing-the-ineffable

Preamble: a sign featuring the daily special isn't present, then it is:

image credit: @embracing-the-ineffable

I went searching for any kind of symbolic meaning and this is what I found (below the cut):

Honolulu is a Metaphor for the Bookshop

At first I suspected there was some connection between Freddie Mercury and Honolulu, since an instrumental version of Bohemian Rhapsody plays diegetically in this scene. But that didn't yield any results, so I tried "Honolulu Queen" and I got this.

citation: Smithsonian

Liliʻuokalani, the last monarch of Hawaiʻi, came to power over the tiny independent islands as the result of an untraditional chain of succession. She only held power for two years, until she was ousted by a coup led by American plutocrat Sanford Dole (as in Dole pineapple). Ionlani Palace in Honolulu was the seat of power of the independent monarchy: the coup began with a warship anchoring in Honolulu Harbor (source). Subsequently the islands were annexed by the much larger, much more powerful United States.

In a statement, in exchange for a pardon for her and her supporters, she "yield[ed] to the superior force of the United States of America" under protest, pointing out that John L. Stevens, U.S. Minister to Hawaiʻi, who supported the provisional government, had already "caused United States troops to be landed at Honolulu."

A quote directly from the mouth of queen herself reads:

"Now, to avoid any collision of armed forces and perhaps loss of life, I do, under this protest, and impelled by said forces, yield my authority..."

Following the coup, Sanford Dole set himself up as the ruler of Hawai'i, until ceding authority to the United States.

Aziraphale = Liliʻuokalani

Who else do we know that could be characterized as the ruler of a tiny independent nation...

...that is violently invaded by an overwhelming larger force...

...and then forced to surrender to annexation to protect their loved ones...

...and now their tiny independent nation is being occupied by representatives of the invading force?

I mean. C'mon. It's right there.

Metaphorical Parallelism between Heaven:Hell and Federal:Corporate

But indigo, you say, wasn't it Hell that couped the bookshop and Heaven that annexed it?

Yes. Just like Dole of Dole Pineapple, a private interest, couped Hawai'i, which would later be annexed by the United States.

Public and private interest are, theoretically, at odds, but America in particular has a long and storied history of these forces colluding and working together for common (and often sinister) purpose.

We already know that Heaven and Hell in the universe of GO have significant interests in common, such as wanting to bring about the Apocalypse (even if that common interest is in having a war with each other). The parallelism is there.

Anyways. Yeah.

Honolulu Roast.

If you liked this meta you may like: Baraqiel and Azazel

[nevadas-night-time-novelist]

More 2B x Hank x Reader

I am hungry

Polyamory am i right lol

2B x Reader x Hank

CW: Gore, Hank gets fucked up (when don't they tho), mentions of medical bugs

Doc worried when he needed to send you and Hank out, terrified that the implants in your spine would read [TERMINATED] and he'd have to hurry to anchor your souls and forcefully pull you back to the world of the living.

Hank was a loose canon at the best of times, but adding their much smaller, adorable lover into the fray made them go into reckless overdrive. He would do anything, absolutely anything to shield your body from harm. They were used to it, pain was something they'd come to expect and deal with, but any harm to you would cut deeper than any physical wound would ever.

And that lead to your current situation, you posted up on a chair next to Hank's bed as they deliriously slurred their words, high as a kite on whatever Doc had pumped into his system to quell the pain while he was reattaching a severed arm with small, precise sutures.

You hadn't seen it coming, an attack from behind, yet Hank did. In a split second, he thrust his body in the way, assailant's sword cleaving through his arm instead of your spine. Your back still sustained damage, but nothing nearly as terrible as it could've been.

Hank's giant hand squeezed your tiny one, breaking your reflection on the mission, and despite the delirium, they offered a smile. "Tiny.... Hands."

"Screw the mission!" Sanford barked as he lunged into the driver's seat, you and Deimos helping support Hank's weight as you two climbed into the truck bed. "What little we got will have to do, I ain't riskin' an ass whoopin' from Doc 'cause we let you two get fucked up."

Medical stuff was more of San's field, but so was driving, and a quick get-away was needed right now, with two MAGs thundering out of the base towards the vehicle. Deimos took off one of Hank's many, many decorative belts, and used it as a makeshift tourniquet to try and stop them bleeding out all over the truck because he would have to clean it otherwise.

"I can take them-" Hank tried to sit up and throw his missing arm, but you pushed them back down and chastised them.

"Don't be so stupid Hank, the last thing I need is you getting more hurt." And that settled them down.

Sanford had seen to your back once the four of you arrived home, Doc preoccupied with Hank's more severe injury. "Don't think you'll even need stitches Lucky, just a bloody cut that'll need disinfecting and a bandage."

"Can you move your fingers?" Doc spoke up, and Hank raised their reattached arm, slowly wiggling the digits. "Good, keep it clean or you could get an infection, and I really don't want to have to bring out the medical maggots again."

Doc sighed and rested an arm around your shoulders after taking off his bloodied gloves, mindful of your aching back. "You two will be the death of me, I swear." He took off his mask and sighed again, he looked stressed and tired.

"Sorry sweetheart." You kissed his scarred cheek, and he offered a relaxed smile. "I know it's scary sending us out, but I promise Hank and I will keep each other safe, and be more vigilant."

Doc returned the kiss, taking your chin into his hand and meeting your softer lips with his rougher ones. Hank grunted when your kiss lingered too long. "What about MY kiss?" They grumbled while casting their gaze between you two, now sitting upright.

"Alright Hanky, don't get so butthurt." You giggled, both you and Doc going in to showering him with love too.

[distressedwalnut]

Hello! Love your art! Have a tiny question, what does Emi think of the main 4?

This isn't exactly what you asked for but I thought it'd be easier to make a relationship chart (and include others because why not). I'll explain the main 4 a bit more tho Doc: He's just her boss so she doesn't really have a relationship with him outside of work. Thinks he's pretty reasonable. Hank: Emi finds Hank insufferable, and Hank thinks she's a stuck up bitch. Hank probably makes fun of Emi's inability to shoot a gun very frequently lol. Deimos: They're paired up often so they've gotten friendly with each other! Dei thinks they're a bit closer then they actually are. Sanford: Emilia and Sanford don't work together often so their interactions come from being with Deimos. Both are friendly with each other but Sanford can get on Emi's nerves.

[bisharp-that-likes-chips]

The main group reacting to the person being 5'1 in height, please?

Okie

Hank:

He thinks you’re adorable

He likes to pick you up and carry you around everywhere.

If anyone makes fun of your height, they’ll be sorry for even attempting.

He makes sure not to crush you when hugging you, the most dangerous man in Nevada has his gentle side you know?

Sanford:

Bro’s heart is melting faster than the ice caps (I’m sorry)

Likes carrying you around and holds you like a plushie

He’ll give anyone the death stare if they insult your height

Nah fr if anyone gets cursed by the stare of Sanford then they might as well write their last will and testament

Deimos:

Teases you from time to time (that usually ends in you giving him the slap of god)

He just does that cuz finally he’s no longer the shortest member in the group, meaning his ego has risen from 90-100

Cocky Deimos aside, he does think you’re precious and cuddles you whenever he feels kinda down

If anyone makes fun of you for ur height, he challenges them to a roast battle. Sometimes he wins, but other times, he legit gets owned so bad that u have to come in and kick the other guy’s ass and comfort him (he acts like he’s cool as a cucumber but he does need it and really enjoys being comforted after getting burnt)

2BDamned:

Kinda scared of you because you’re so tiny that you can sneak up on anyone and scare them so much they see heaven or hell

Other than that he does enjoy your presence, especially if you’re clinging on to him while he’s working. It makes him feel relaxed and warm whenever you’re there just being an affectionate lil bean

Dude gets passive aggressive whenever someone makes fun of your height. Like: dumbass: lMaO sO sHoRt Ur LiKe An AnT lolololol 😂😂😂😂😂 2B: you say that shit again and I’ll throw you into a white van with a free Candy sign on it with your fucking face tied up, so don’t make fun of my love okay good sir 😇?

Also holds you while sleeping

Hell yea new request finished after so long. I’ll work on others asap

[ya-killin-me-smalls]

Deimos x teammate ship headcanons that no one asked for but the thoughts are stuck in my brain so I'm making it your problem

Sanmos:

The golden child of madness combat ships

- fell into place very naturally. there were no big conversations about the mutual interest or what the other was looking for, they just meshed together

- Sanford is incredibly fixated on Deimos. not in an obsessive manner, for the most part, he's just intrigued by him and feels responsible for his physical/emotional well being

- to Deimos, Sanford is safety. Sanford understands that he has a rough history and doesn't pressure him to talk about what's eating at him. the upside to this? Deimos feels like he can go to Sanford for support or advice when he wants it. the downside? Sanford tends to enable him when sometimes he really does need a push in the right direction, especially when it comes to his self-sabotaging tendencies

- they have their fights which usually results in yelling and then separating themselves to cool off before trying to readdress the issue. it doesn't happen often, only over major things in general, because Sanford knows Deimos can be more reactive than himself so he tends to just let the little things that irritate him slide. it's not worth picking a fight over to him

- they're both in work mode 96% of the time but when they're not their relationship becomes so passionate. there's so much want and need between them and those times are when they talk the least, having learned each other's cues and built their own silent language together

- they aren't perfect, but that's what happens when you throw two fucked up people together and give them only each other to rely on in such a dangerous world. they both have learned to see the silver lining of their shortcomings. at the end of the day, Deimos has taught Sanford so much patience, and Sanford reminds Deimos that it's okay and even good to be soft sometimes

- when Sanford is stressed he'll pull Deimos into his arms and just slow dance with him even if there's no music

- Deimos, regardless of work mode, will get random urges to bite his partner and he is naught but a slave to his desires. it doesn't usually draw blood. usually

- despite trying to discourage the habit for health reasons, Sanford finds Deimos smoking to be so hot sometimes. especially when he's freshly showered, relaxing, and just having a cigarette to wind down. it's classy but still rough around the edges and Sanford is a sucker for it

- they both use a lot of pet names but Sanford's are usually more romantic/endearing and Deimos's are more playful but no less affectionate

Hankmos:

So delicate but always dancing near the edge of toxic

- Well-meaning but emotionally disconnected meets undyingly loyal but anxiously attached

- Hank feels. something for Deimos. he wouldn't call it love, or like even. those just aren't words that he'd associate with the feeling and he's spent more time deliberating on this than he would most things. Hank is fond of him, he finds him entertaining and nice to look at and listen to, he thinks he's useful on and off the battlefield, and in some ways he feels a sense of ownership over Deimos. not like he literally owns him, but he sees Deimos as an extension of himself, a part of himself, and in that regard a slight against Deimos is a slight against Hank. but he wouldn't call it love

- Deimos has so much admiration for Hank. he thinks Hank is cool as fuck even though he's a little weird and he would follow him off the edge of the earth if Hank asked him to

- would probably an emotionally dependent relationship if either of them stopped bottling things up and compartmentalizing

- but since they have no plans of doing that, there's instead a mutual understanding that sometimes one of them is just Not Good and doesn't wanna make it anyone else's problem

- not overly lovey-dovey with affection but it's tiny gestures that add up throughout the day. a squeeze of the shoulder, pat on the back, sometimes just standing or sitting close enough to touch but never fully indulging it when others are around. their hands linger when they make contact, always reluctant to break away

- when they are alone they cling to each other in a way they never have anyone else. they talk, usually about the mission but every now and then about "us." they don't know what to call it, try as they might to find the words together. but they bring each other peace and that's all that matters

- bonding via sparring matches that usually end in heated makeout sessions on the mats. they're both brimming with rage and aggression 25/8 and they take it out on each other in a controlled environment where they don't feel like they have to hold back anything

- Hank likes picking Deimos up. Deimos's opinions on this are irrelevant

- Deimos has a certain fascination with Hank's hands and just how BIG they are

- Hank will spend hours littering kisses all over the soft, most vulnerable parts of Deimos's body (throat, lower abdomen, inner thighs, etc). it isn't so much a dominance thing as it is the fact that Deimos let's him, Hank JMotherfucker Wimbleton, living weapon and Nevada's most wanted, touch places that would be so easy to hurt, especially when teeth and the metal jaw are involved. it makes him feel a Certain Way and seeing Deimos so flustered afterwards is like crack to him

2Bmos:

So very underrated but so much potential

- first, I don't see it happening the normal way

- Doc finds Deimos physically attractive and mentally intriguing, sure, but he is Busy and does not have time for stupid jokes and bright eyes and goofy smiles (no matter how handsome)

- Deimos, submissive in the way a guard dog is, probably doesn't realize he has feelings for 2B at all. like sure the guy makes him nervous sometimes and he likes working one on one with him and hearing his voice over the radio and he's risking his life on the daily for this man because he believes his vision so much and he'd paint the streets red with blood, doesn't matter whose, if it meant Doc would clap him on the shoulder and praise him for a job well done. but that doesn't mean anything, right? he just looks up to him is all

- no, these two are socially inept in the same way and it's like trying to watch the windows screen saver hit a corner but it just keeps Missing The Point

- fortunately, I think they're both very susceptible to trauma bonding via shared horrific experience :)

- they don't ever talk about it after the fact, like never

- but 2B is riddled with guilt because Deimos follows HIM and he put them both in that situation. he deals with a lot of anxiety over Deimos's well being after the fact, but he's self aware enough to not let it get in the way of the mission

- if he assigns Deimos more desk work and puts him in the field less often, it isn't worth mentioning

- Deimos feels the opposite. inadequacy complex be damned, he truly believes he wouldn't have made it without Doc there by his side. reverse savior complex, if you will

- in the early stages I think they were probably heavily dependent on each other emotionally, Doc needing constant reassurance that Deimos is okay and Deimos being so devoted that the thought of upsetting 2B has him spiralling

- socially inept and a little fucked up, but they communicate well with each other. they never talk about It but things come to a head and they start having serious talks about boundaries that they need to have if they're going to make this work

- in time, they help each other heal and the relationship between them grows

- y'know that one quote about two people wanting each other in the way flesh wants to knit itself over a wound? that is them

- they're very physically affectionate with each other, despite what one might expect. like if they're in the same room, they're going to be sitting together or holding hands or something. touch keeps them both grounded in the moment

- they suck at expressing emotions verbally so there aren't any real pet names between them, unless 'Doc' qualifies. Deimos will call him 'Doctor' sometimes but that's usually when he's trying to be a tease

- both massive hypocrites which works in some ways because 2B will be up at 2am doing something and catch Deimos up as well, get on his case about sleeping, and then they'll bicker in a circle until both of them end up cuddled up in bed together

- Doc is naturally cold and Deimos is a walking furnace. they'll spend as much time as they can wrapped up in blankets together, hands laced together, pressing gentle kisses anywhere they can reach without moving too much

- Doc adores Deimos's fangs. he's always been fond of dangerous things and Dei is no exception

- Deimos will come massage 2B's shoulders when he's been cooped up for what Deimos deems to be too long. Doc melts once Deimos starts kissing the nape of his neck

- overall, I think they present the most opportunity for growth to each other. Deimos feels genuinely understood by Doc and Doc knows that he can let his guard down completely when they're together

I have so much brainrot about these little dudes right now please let me talk your ears off about the intricacies of their relationships with each other I promise I won't bite

[32lice]

i only remember the episodes i watched (not that many) so a tiny little sanford and deimos being gay and shit is enough for me

haiii this took longer than I expected sorry

[artoriarts]

Ok I don’t want to go make art and I don’t want to go find something good to scrounge up and post so I will instead spout assorted madcom headcanons. these are far from the last you will see from me.

- sanmos 4 lyfe (big sloppy heart emoji) they are both like playfully flirty in diff ways with other people but also so so monogamous at the same time they love eachother sooo much have the healthiest relationship known to man. ignore all the killings.

- 2bhank with the same energy as medic tf2 x heavy tf2. but like also 2b is catboy herder for hank. he holds the laser pointer in the relationship. hank isn’t like full creature I’m still the kind of girlie to place him solidly as kind of the stoic and dysfunctional sociopath but he’s got some of those beasty tendencies in him. the two have such strong attachment to each other but they both have such difficulty expressing it. hank doesn’t know how human well and 2b simply isn’t a soft person even when he wants to be. but they work with what they have. deimos and sanford are so invested in their relationship they chitchat about it constantly. in the most supportive way they want it to go well they just talk about the two being cute and try to help when they hit rocky points. the power couple is so stable they can take on other couple’s drama.

- I don’t know what the ship name is for tricky and hank but there’s like a tiny bit of that too. tricky is hank’s crazy ex but they were never in an actual relationship clown has just been desperate for the dick day one and has not let up for a single second. especially after the halo fiasco literally everyone hates them but they stay silly

- whitehank exists because of something along the lines of hank’s genome getting copied to aahw database when he went in the magnifier and using that agency got the bright idea that if they can’t beat hank. they can make their own. I don’t know actually how she should fit into everything but I like the idea it feels appropriately silly for madcom. the only thing I’m really decided on is that she eventually switches sides and 2b, carrying the entire trans community of nevada on his old man spine, hooks her up on titty skittles and him and hank informally adopt her because cold sad clone babygirl needs parents. she’s like all of hank’s feral swagger if you made it sopping wet and also like garage band punk. I can’t decide if she’s musclegirl as I’ve drawn her before or make her skinny legend I need to lock down the vibes. One important design thing that i know is coming however is that since she’s a copy of mag hank specifically, while hank gets demagnified in my little post canon design shit, she does not, so she is de facto tallest out of the. what do you even call the gang. just the gang? agency for hank wimbleton? the motley crew. the dnd party. nevada’s most wanted. that one actually works we’ll go with that

- funny thing I’ve considered for sheriff is that after whatever happens in project nexus dude just. pisses off somewhere. half hooks up with jeb to make a neutral party for people who just want to fuckin live. while jeb’s on the offensive side of that trying to actively stop the madness sherrif is the defensive side just making settlements for normal people to live they lives. something along those lines. it’s quaint. him and whitehank get together maybe. little guy woos the giant cryptid lady with his southern charm.

- the auditor is workplace sexual harassment personified. simultaneously in the fanfic suave way and the restraining order kind. they talk like stephan weyte. they think they’re soo cool and when someone doesn’t think they are when they want them to they run away and cry.

- I wish I could come up with something for jeb to like round out the primary cast but like honestly he’s the one I spin around in my head the least. I like his motive of make shit normal but maybe he’s just like too clear cut. he’s already got a full character there’s nothing for me to add.

thank you for coming to my ted talk

[thefloatingwriter]

hi!! i hope you don't mind me dropping in but i read your marvel headcanons and then read your fic with marvel's sister (and loved it!!!) and i was wondering if you had any thoughts on his sister/the rest of his family after he died and during the rebellion?

thank you so much for this ask omg??? i love talking about the sanfords so much you have no idea. also i’m so glad you enjoyed reading my thoughts on marvel. he’s such a blank slate of a character that i feel like people just skip over him even though you could really do anything with him. also also thank you so much for reading the fic about marvel and marvel’s sister (here for anyone who hasn’t read it!) i’m so glad you enjoyed it!!

okay now into the actual hcs lol.

(little note: this includes all of members of the sanford family alive during the rebellion, not the 75th. amethyst lives through the 75th, but does not live to see the rebellion. just a btw so no one gets confused!)

brilliant sanford —

brill and marvel were not close. he always agreed with what his mother said about training and marvel never felt safe talking to him.

that said, he was affected when he died. after all, marvel was his son. he had raised him.

but brill had never second guessed the system he grew up within (“kiss the capitol’s ass or die” basically). he didn't magically start thinking the games were immoral. his brother had died in the games and he still didn’t think the games were horrible and unjust. his son being killed did not make him have a sudden change in perspective.

brill basically had a whole “there will be no talk of treason under my roof” talk with his wife and daughter and pearl was like “your roof? this is my house”. so yeah, lots of fighting and arguments over meals in the Sanford’s home during the period after the 74th games ending to the victory tour.

he doesn't side with the rebels during the rebellion. he doesn’t side with the capitol loyalists either, though, which is bigger than him just siding with the rebels honestly. the sanfords were big capitol supporters during the Dark Days. brill had grown up learning about it. he knew what was expected of him. he just didn’t do it.

he never publicly sided with either side, but brill gave his life to save his wife and daughter from a capitol bomb. in a way, that was him choosing his side. and it wasn’t the capitol.

bonus hc for brilliant: he used to watch his brother’s games. not the actual games, but the interviews and the clips of the reapings. he can’t bring himself to watch the actual games. he never has. amethyst convinced the capitol officials wanting brill’s opinions on his brother that brill was deathly ill. in truth, it wasn’t all that far off; he refused to go out anywhere and was bedridden for weeks. maybe he did have some rebellious thoughts during that time. he never admitted to them.

pearl nelson —

pearl nelson has been pissed for years. her son’s death is really just the final straw for her.

she doesn’t speak to amethyst for months after it. if she has to, she tells brill to tell amethyst for her. brill finds it ridiculous but pearl looks about one ill timed comment away from killing someone, so he does it anyway.

important member in the rebellion in One, especially relating to the civilian aspect of it. she has been smuggling information and rebel plans since the late 40s, when she was still a teenager.

she’s less active in the public speaking and publishing aspect of panem’s history restoration but she does occasionally speak out, usually anytime anyone even tries to say something bad about her dad.

she never expected to live to see a free panem. she had hoped, but hoping and experiencing it are two very different things. there’s quite a lot more healing and therapy than she had expected too.

she starts a tiny garden off of her house after the war, since her first one had been bombed. the tiny garden quickly grows much, much larger as more people move and relocate and add plants and flowers and trees to the garden as they go. after pearl passes away, the garden is renamed to “Nelson Park” and each bench in the park has a plaque honoring a war hero during the rebellion. the fountain in the middle of the park is surrounded by twelve plaques for each victor from One.

bonus hc for pearl: she’s the only one of the sanford extended family to never go to the Academy. argent refused to send her, and pearl never showed any interest in winning the hunger games either.

paris sanford —

she had to go on the run after the 75th for obvious reasons (she had known about the rebel plan and had been involved in it as one of One’s mentors).

she also had to smuggle herself on a train out of the capitol by hiding in a fruit crate to Six and running into the freezing cold forest directly off of the district. everyone’s convinced she’s dead. she’s not.

she knows peacekeepers are on her trail and has to hide her footsteps and never stay in the same place for more than a few hours at most. she sometimes ventures back into Six and hides in bars on the edge of the border just to throw them off. it’s also a good way of figuring out what’s going on with the rebellion. it’s how she figures out who is in Thirteen and who is in capitol custody.

it’s also how she meets delta lincoln, the mother of james lincoln, Six’s first victor. she’s in her seventies now, but she helps the rebellion in anyway she can. through her, paris is able to continue helping the rebellion from afar.

she’s one of my favorites and i always like to imagine she’s one of the few Coin didn’t calculate in the victor’s purge (or deliberately left out) and she did survive. but that’s just my opinion lol.

bonus hc for paris: she was never supposed to go into the games. paris was amazing in all subjects at the Academy except for any kind of combat. she excelled in educational classes; sword fighting… not so much. because of this, she was supposed to be drawn out after she turned fifteen. it didn’t work out, as paris was reaped, by “coincidence”, and One’s designated volunteer that year got the memo that she wasn’t supposed to volunteer for paris. no one expected her to come back, and yet.

harrison sanford —

harrison never agreed with sending marvel to the Academy early. he genuinely fought amethyst on it, but amy is about as movable as mount everest when she sets her mind on something. unfortunately for both of them, harrison would rather die than back down from anyone. they have a lot of arguments.

harrison sides with the rebels. he’s executed by peacekeepers in One’s square. his last words were as follows: “i know what side by grandson would have been on. it’s not the capitol’s.”

bonus hc for harrison: his wife’s name was arabela alderidge. she passed away during the 60s (lot of victors from One were dying in the 60s ngl lol).

sapphire sanford —

after pearl, sapphire is probably the closest to punching someone in the face if they say one more thing about her brother.

she refuses to go to the Academy after his death. paris starts homeschooling her (since a sanford going to public school would probably cause deaths in One).

sapphire and marvel were close. like really close. their large age differences just made sapphire think that her brother was the coolest person to ever exist when she was younger and that admiration never really went away, especially because she never went through the bitchy teenager phase with him.

paris had to go on the run after the 75th, so pearl and sapphire held the rebellion in One strong with the miners and various rebellious nobles.

she survives the rebellion along with her mother. she never stops talking about marvel during the rebuilding process and after that. she makes sure that no one in the entire country of panem will ever forget the name of the boy they killed. she talks about what he was like on talk shows and writes books and articles about what growing up being taught how honorable going into the hunger games was and how that affected her in the long run.

bonus hc for sapphire: she’s the only biological sanford born during the hunger games era who didn’t complete the test at the Academy at twelve since she wasn’t attending classes at the time.

reasons for lack of some characters:

alister sanford dies during the 46th hunger games (won by emmelyn “lyme” gray of D2). amethyst is devastated, especially because it’s the same year hermes died, but she’s one of those people that just ignores all of their pain and puts all of their energy into something else to help keep their mind off of it to the point that it’s unhealthy. in this case, it was the Academy.

bonus hc for alister: he’s one of the few career victors who has never worked or trained anyone at the academy. it isn’t his thing. never was.

amethyst hansen dies right after katniss blows up the 75th hunger games. like, literally right after. harrison went to her house to talk to her about katniss literally blowing up the arena and she’s just dead. and he’s like “damn now i need someone else to talk to.”

bonus hc for amethyst: she doesn’t mentor tributes. ever. she doesn’t have the patience needed for it. she’s much better at training them because at least than she can yell at them.

sylvia sanford dies during the fall of the 72nd (won by cassandra mcpearson of D2).

bonus hc for sylvia: zircon was her only successful tribute, and he sees her as a sort of mother figure to him. she sees him as a son after her adopted daughter died in the 50th.

again thank you so much for this ask omg??? i love absolutely any excuse to talk about the sanfords.

[keywhole]

radio waves.

okay i toss this to the wolves. i've only seen like 1/4th of the game so if u tag this w spoiler mentions pls add that theres spoilers bc I Will Read Every Tag.

18+ for heavy gore. also. trigger warning for gore.

sanmos deimos/sanford lil hurt/comfort bc deimos has adhd/autism it's true he told me himself also ty @sparrowchute for editing this bc i would never 4.8k words enjoy

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Hearing the alarms on the rooftop had sucked ass, but in the sewers? Oh, Deimos wanted to kill himself.

The sound pierced directly through his headphones as if they were made of clay. They weren’t. They were a good sturdy pair of a headset; Deimos just kept them a few sizes down for them to be pressed into his head. For something he found as a joke, his dumbass trademark had become a lifesaver. He never understood the phrase “so quiet you can hear a pin drop,” until he found these. And, well, after Doc fixed them up a little, but even before that they were perfect. He could finally hear and not hear at the same time. Instead of hearing every single creak of metal or wood, pounding enemies a dozen feet from him, with stomping footsteps behind, he just heard the footsteps. Instead of being in car crashes and hearing every sputter of the engine, every shriek that the windows made as they broke, he just heard Sanford asking if everyone was okay, Hank complaining about an illegal left, and his own laughter. It was like he was a radio, and the dial finally found a sweet spot.

But somehow, those tall ass dinner bells had shot right through the shells. The headphones were no match for the blaring sound the towers bellowed, and they didn’t stop. It started out as just an annoying ringing in his ears, fine, nothing he hasn’t dealt with before. But they really didn’t stop. Deimos and Sanford were careful, duh, but zeds weren’t. Little tiny pebbles that touched a goddamn pixel within their range weren't careful. Sure, yeah, it was pretty much par for the course for the two of them, but it sucked ass. And then sucked more ass. 

Every ricochet of drops hitting the sewer water echoed in Deimos’ ears. The water simply moved and bounced in his eardrums and never stopped, because that’s how water works. The old metal creaked inches from age and what lived behind the bars, and even with their sneaking and stealthy footsteps, they sounded like slams against the ground. The feeling of it too was louder to himself because it was, y’know, himself, and Deimos wanted to punch through the side of his head and close his eardrums by hand. He had considered if that would be beneficial in the long run, but they didn’t have enough bandages for all that jazz. He was in hell, and he’d have to deal with it for now. Deimos had done better with worse.

It still SUCKED MAJOR ASS though.

Especially when Sanford had simply explained a plan for once they get out of this place, and Deimos just had to find a dick joke in there, and moved his hand slightly too far to the left and set off an alarm. The same constant ringing that ripped through his skull, except it was amplified by the tunnel of steel encasing the two of them. A shit-fart of a cacophony. It got to the point where he couldn’t tell if it was a zed’s skull or his own cracking in half. The latches of the gate audibly flaked rust as they wailed open, letting a disgusting amount of sludge that pounded against the water beneath it, all combined with the swampy zeds treaded forward with footsteps that sounded like they belonged to moist giants. Not only that, but one of them (if not both) had been pushed into another alarm, which doubled the process.

In case it needed reminding in the last five hundred and eighty-seven words, Deimos wanted to kill himself.

The fights weren’t exactly a big deal physically. The second wave sort of (literally) swamped them, but it wasn’t anything the two of them couldn’t handle. Sanford was slashing his hook through skulls, using various heads as surprisingly useful hammers. Deimos switched between his gun and his bat, but he was off his game. Sanford was there, and his guard over both of them around zeds made up for it, but at some point Deimos couldn’t take it anymore. He took out his gun, and didn’t let go of the trigger. The noise was worse, the recoil creating a sound that not only shot outside his body, but inside, too. But, hey, if his ears were going to bleed, he had to do some of the damage himself. Go big or go home, and the latter didn’t have much meaning for him. So he flooded his ears until he felt Sanford pull his wrist aside.

Deimos’ head was pounding. Luckily, Sanford took a second to scan their surroundings to inadvertently  give the other a chance to compose his face. He pinched between his eyes, not a single beat in the air dropping. Everything was at a constant state of screeching, despite the outward danger being nill. He was about to consider busting his head open and ripping out whatever part of the brain registered sound when Sanford turned back around. He knew Sanford was scanning him to make sure he was okay, and at least it seemed Deimos could keep it together on the outside, in the dark. Sanford quickly gestured for him to follow, hugging the wall a bit more. Deimos knew that also meant to parrot his movements and follow him carefully.

“Up ahead there seems to be a dip in the wall,” Sanford said whispering, though it hit the other like he was speaking in his normal volume, “We should be able to at least breathe for a second.”

“Gotcha,” Deimos whispered in a desperate amount to not say anything more. He was talking as quietly as he could, an attempt to not even be able to hear it himself, but he still did. It received a nod from the other, so at least he knew he was keeping it together at the moment. They shuffled, and he put up with it, his head on a swivel as natural. His face was constantly twitching in discomfort. 

The ringing didn’t stop. It didn’t even start to ebb off.

Luckily, the little dip had been just a small, closed off alley-sorta thing. The two of them checked it out for any ironic traps, but Deimos called it quits far before Sanford and sat himself down. His ass hit the ground and his hands immediately flew up to press his headphones deeper into his head. It muffled some of the water, but the metal was loud.

Sanford wasn’t looking.

One of his hands was pressing against the edge of their little hiding hole while the other was gripping at the handle of his hook. His head was jotting around as he scanned the surroundings. The exit was in sight, but it was still quite a few tip-toes away. There was little to no telling of what was behind that door. Of what Sanford could remember, he could work out some kind of probability, but it’d be a long shot. And with shots on the mind, he thought back to how Deimos just let it rip with his gun. The coast seemed clear, but Sanford didn’t turn around when he sighed.

“You didn’t have to drop all that lead, y’know?” Sanford couldn’t be too mad, because he had spread the bullets out to save him the trouble of being tackled down, “I have no idea when we’ll be able to stock up again.”

“Hey, Sanford.” Deimos' voice was a bit out of breath, but not enough to be concerning; there was a small laugh in it. He tried for it to not sound too forced, because Sanford would notice immediately, so he kept thinking about that time Sanford blew himself up with a grenade. It had been really funny. No one had time for Deimos’ drama, and he knew that, but he wanted to peel his flesh off until that was the last resort. “Be quiet for a sec, ‘kay?”

Sanford knitted his brows. His sense of sight was more focused than his hearing, but he at least gathered a decent idea that his partner definitely needed a break. He couldn’t lie, he wouldn’t mind one himself, but he knew they didn’t have the time for his sore muscles. He didn’t like zeds. He really, really didn’t. It’s not like Deimos did either, he knew they both wanted to get the fuck out of here, but they can’t take a short rest while they’re in initiative. With his back turned, Sanford had no idea of the actual state his partner was in, but with the super funny joke he had made earlier that set off the alarms had him adverse to the idea of him taking him too seriously right now. It’s not like he was mad— no, the joke had been super funny and worth it— but again, they both wanted to get the fuck out of here.

“Deimos, this really isn’t the time to fuck around, we—”

“Sanford, seriously,” Deimos sounded annoyed, but that same rhythm was practiced in his voice, “Shut up for a second.”

Okay. Okay, that was a bit weird. Surely Deimos wasn’t doing the thing where he hides something tying him down under jokes— oh, Sanford felt like a fucking idiot for even considering the possibility that Deimos wasn’t covering something up. They still seemed safe for the time being, at least. He turned his head around to look at the other, confused and concerned.

Deimos was reaching his limit. Usually, when they found a spot they could sit, they had a quiet moment while Sanford jotted some things down and Deimos did fuckall (mostly sneaking in a cigarette) and took an actual second to themselves. This wasn’t one of those moments. His hands kept pressing and pressing and pressing his headphones closer to his head. He didn’t know if that was helping, or if it was making his circulation fucked up enough to cover up more sound. He didn’t want to be a dick, he really didn’t, but if Sanford didn’t give him a minute of silence Deimos would have to be getting his ears sewn back on when they got back. Or bash his head in with a nail bat until he could pick his own brain out; whichever would be faster, either were inevitable. Sanford was walking over to him. The only eye Deimos had opened twitched over to him for a moment, seeing only concern in his face. Despite trying to keep that feeling away from him, he found comfort in the care. He couldn’t comprehend that right now. His skin was buzzing with the reverb of every sound. Sanford’s shoes scraped against the ground in a sound that made his skin burn and sent bullets straight into his brain. His ears couldn’t stand it. The usual soothing gruff in his voice sounded like static squeaking. Deimos knew he was only trying to help. The part of his mind with sense had instantly regretted not asking for it in the first place, but Sanford didn’t shut up, let alone shut the fuck up, and the care didn’t make sense next to the rattles of metal, or the groans of rusted gates, or the sheet of crashes sewage water created. 

“Hey, what’s wrong? Are you hurt? I have some—”

Deimos opted to push his headset against his head until the plastic was digging into him. One of his knees dug into his forehead as he killed his own ears himself. Once again, Deimos had to stumble into an alarm.

“Sanford I need you to shUT THE FUCK UP!”

Oh. Oh, shit, something was wrong. Sanford’s shoulders fell. He didn’t turn around fast enough.

The yell was loud enough for some attention to be drawn. Dammit, if Sanford had just noticed Deimos was struggling earlier he could’ve used that very convenient spot to actually help him. The gates behind him opened with moans of familiar fuckers, and another slab of guilt stacked onto Sanford’s shoulders when he realized he’d have to turn his back again. But he had to take care of this before he could do anything for Deimos, so he tugged the rope on his hook for the handle to be back in his hand. With Deimos’ hands still clutched to the side of his head, he still moved his elbow towards his gun before Sanford put out a hand. Unfortunately, he had to talk.

“Don’t— I got this, just stay here.”

He hopped out of their ratting spot and hooked the closest zed by the legs. He flung it against the wall, hopefully buying himself some time to spread the zeds farther away from Deimos. Being in the middle of it all would be a bit of a risky move alone, but he’d find a way to make it work. Deimos hadn’t looked injured (but, then again, goop thrown up on him from a sewer creature could probably cover up blood) but he looked in pain. Either way, something was wrong, and he hadn’t realized. Sanford was so good at noticing his hints, but Deimos was just as good at faking it.

A fist flew its way through a zed’s stomach, making it fall to the ground with a gross squelch, leaving Sanford nothing but a bloody fist. He lifted his boot to crush its head, his foot soon flushed to the ground as if he stepped on a rotten pumpkin. If pumpkins had a lot more blood, at least. His less bloodied arm swung his hook into the throat of another, throwing the freak into another zed to buy him time. With said time, he ended up getting punched in the face and grabbed by the arm. He fought them off with a decent amount of effort before he loosened the rope on his hook to return the punch he owed, and kicked the other zed in the chest to send it down. That same leg stayed up to kick against the standing zed’s shoulder to give him the leverage to grab the thing by the sides of the head and twist its head off. Its bones let out a crunching sigh of relief, as if they had been begging to be free of the rotting meat they were trapped in. It fell towards him, which he dodged right back to the two zeds that were standing once again as they were still held together like a fucked up shish kabob. Sanford pulled the rope tighter to his hand as he lunged himself forward and stomped on their chests. His arm ripped the blade forward, short enough for a flick of his wrist to hold the hilt in his hand. It slashed against the zed’s faces with a rough, wet tear. Good.

There was a tug at the back of Sanford’s leg that led to an instinctual kick. He spun around to see a zed with no legs reaching towards him, its spine poking out of its body. His free boot sent a quick kick up into its open mouth, easily knocking the top of its head off with a swift movement, leaving nothing but a forgotten bottom jaw. A few more surrounded him, green foam bubbling from its mouth. This wasn’t going to be easy with a single weapon. His eyes jotted down to the dead legless zed, the spine writhing out like a larva trying to escape. Sanford ripped it out of its body, feeling it creak and shatter under his hand like spikes of wood. He slammed it into the side of another zed’s head and pierced it through and through. The head stuck on the barbs of the spine kept the thick sludge of a head stuck to it as Sanford whipped around once again and scratched another zed’s face before shoving it down. He used the other, splintered end of the spine to stab another in the face, the movement causing the stuck zed head to drop to his fear and roll around the other corpses. 

It wasn’t long until most of the heads were bashed in, but there were always, always ones that still got back up. Sanford gripped his hook as he threw it forward, giving its rope some slack. He didn’t have time for this. Something was wrong with Deimos.

“Just stay the fuck down, you chu—”

With precision and instinct Sanford hopped to the right to avoid a litter of bullets heading straight towards a zed’s head. It went down immediately, and Sanford couldn’t help but turn his head. Deimos was laying on his side with a cheek pressed to the ground with his gun matching his line of sight. His cheeks felt wet, and he was really hoping it was just miscellaneous goop and not tears. In Deimos’ mind, firing a few shots was the least he could do. In Sanford’s, it instilled another set of determination. He was hurting, but still at his back to help him. Sanford gave him a stern look, but his smile was sweet; a very “this stupid, stupid man” smile.

Deimos could only fire so many bullets. Partially because it was making him go insane, and he wasted most of his ammunition in a fit of rage. Still, it sped up the process of taking the rest of them down, but even with the extra hand Sanford eventually gave him the signal to stop. Deimos didn’t know why, but he did, because his aim was getting worse with disorientation swarming his head. Sanford must’ve noticed that. Or maybe Deimos’ aim had been fucked up enough to graze his arm— he didn’t know, and as long as Sanford wasn’t screaming in pain, it didn’t seem like he had to care.

The scariest part was making sure Sanford could creep his way back into the pair’s hiding spot without attracting further attention. Deimos really couldn’t care much, as long as Sanford was okay. His feet kicked their way to the back of the wall and had his shoulders fight to climb its way up for him to (lopsidedly) sit up. With his back against the wall, he finally had his hands free to push the padding against his ears closer. The pressure on his head was uncomfortable, but so were the bullets pelting their way into his brain through sound. The protection of the headset began to press into his skin more this time, the pads flat against the sides of his head. He could feel the plastic sewing its way against his skin. Was this the last resort?

Sanford stepped back into the tiny ally while looking in each direction. 

“Safe,” He said, mostly to himself, and turned around to run to Deimos and ended up skidding on one knee to meet his level, “I’m here, I’m here, what’s up?”

An annoyed groan ripped its way through Deimos’ tired, overworked lungs. How is Sanford not getting it? With great dramatic effect with his elbows, he pressed the muffs closer and closer and harsher against his head. He could feel the plastic scrape against his skin.

That’s when it all clicked. Sanford felt as if he failed a test for not realizing it sooner.

It was pretty common for certain sounds to cause Deimos to say his ears were ringing, but they always seemed to pass. Or, at the very least, was bearable enough for him to seemingly ignore it, but this one had been constant. They had been careful, yes, but shit still happened, because they were Sanford and Deimos. When the first alarm was tripped, he thought the majority of Deimos’ aggravation at it was the surprise. But adding on the fact that a few more went off— Hell, Deimos was probably still hearing the first alarm screeching in his ears.

Sanford crouched down in front of Deimos. His face was twitching with discomfort, and his chest was rising in panic. Slow enough for Deimos to stop them, he moved to be next to him. His arms laid around his shoulders at the same speed. Deimos didn’t stop him, but he also didn’t loosen up on the force of his headphones. Sanford tried to lower his voice to a point where he could hardly hear it himself, but he didn’t know how loud that was going to be right next to Deimos.

“I’ll keep an eye out, just try to breathe.”

And then, finally, Sanford shutted the fuck up.

His hands gently laid around Deimos’. He wished he could stop shaking, but the weight of Sanford’s arm was enough to hold him a bit more in place. Sanford’s fingers laced with his and gently tugged them away from the casing of his headset. They gently lifted his hands up, only a little, so that the blood coming from the small cuts on his head would slow at some point. Sanford applied the pressure with his wrists, an amount that kept it from hurting him, by gently guiding his hands off carefully. Deimos let him. The pressure slowly released, and blood suddenly felt normal throughout his body. Sanford’s wrist still kept down the pressure while he let his hands be peeled back. Sanford was still keeping an eye out. He could breathe. Deimos’ hand relaxed against his palms. He finally untensed his own wrists, but the muffling of sound was still there with Sanford’s help. One of his arms was around his shoulders.

Deimos closed his eyes and leaned a bit more against Sanford’s arm. The light blanket of quiet that attempted to cover up the overwhelming noise of everything ever was now in his hands. The warmth, and sticky-icky shit from fighting off icky-sticky zeds, was something Deimos could focus on. Everything was still there, threatening to overwhelm him to the point of crushing his own skull with his headphones, but the small bit of reduction was now thanks to Sanford. Deimos lifted his fingers to lay over Sanford’s as much as he could. What was left of a comfortable volume was easier to focus on with the outside comfort. 

Thankfully, their hands only moved to adjust to the position of Deimos turning his head to look up at Sanford. It hurt his head and his throat when he cleared it, trying to find the right way to talk with the least discomfort while he still had time.

“Sorry,” He sheepishly said in his anxiety riddled smile, “I didn’t mean to, to uh, y’know, yell at you. Not really.” 

Sanford shook his head. He turned his body a bit more to face Deimos, his hands holding the mittens around his ears in a firm but not intense force, but his arms were relaxed.

“I know, I know— it probably hurt you a lot more than it hurt me. I get it now,” Sanford whisper-talked(?) in a way like he was trying to turn a dial on the radio, trying to find the sweet spot, “Don’t worry about it, okay? Is this helping?”

He gave Deimos more time to breathe. His hands shakily reached up and placed themselves on Sanford’s biceps, taking a deep breath in, and a long breath out. It still felt as though if the two of them lifted their hands his ears would start spewing blood, but it didn’t seem like either of them would be letting go anytime soon. Right now, Sanford’s hands were keeping that overwhelming static that threatened to incase his senses at an almost bearable bay. When he looked up, the worry and care in Sanford’s face made him glance away. That part of sense in his brain that wanted to reach out for his help before? Yeah, it's at the forefront of his brain now. And it made his chest warm, and his face hot, and a bit more guilty for accidentally yelling loud enough to make Sanford lose whatever recuperation time he had in this spot. More sensations for him to focus on.

“Yeah,” Deimos admitted when he looked back at Sanford with a hint of a smile, “A little.”

A little while ago, Deimos had been writhing in discomfort, when he could laugh with broken ribs. But the moment Sanford’s hands could take their place beneath his, Deimos was giving him an embarrassed smile. A dopey grew on his face. He pressed his forehead against his. He could hear Deimos’ smile in his laugh.

Sanford pulled back with a huff. Now he knew what the problem was and, luckily, found a temporary fix. “Okay, how’re we gonna keep this right until we can take a look at it and see what we can really do?”

Deimos grinned. “I don’t have a fucking clue.”

Sanford was already nodding before Deimos even answered, because he already knew he had no fucking clue. Not only because he just knew him, but he knew how Deimos also couldn’t think when everything sounded like pot pans being slammed together. He hummed in thought, before he sat up. Softly, he reversed his hands with Deimos’. He made sure Deimos’ palms weren't pressing down too hard once they were placed on the shells, before he (reluctantly) let go. He reached into one of his side pockets before motioning Deimos to put his head down. With a confused look, he did so.

He heard the sound of fabric against the shell of his headphones. The fabric pulled tighter, similar to the added weight Sanford had applied. He felt Sanford securing something on his forehead.

“Okay, let go, see how that feels.”

Slowly, with genuine fear, Deimos lifted his hands. He blinked. It wasn’t as filtering, but it was similar. It was bearable. He moved to touch his forehead, feeling a knot with little, messy bits of fabric sticking up. “What’d you do?”

“I ripped a bandana a few days ago and kept the scrap, just in case,” Sanford said as quiet as he had been, “It’s not enough to cover up much but, hey, looks like it came in handy. How is it?”

Deimos adjusted it. He moved the fabric to the middle of his muffs, tightening the knot a bit. The creaking of the metal wasn’t as taunting. The water sounded farther away. There was only one test That could really see if it’ll work at all.

“Uuuuuhhhh,” Deimos adjusted to the sound of his own voice before he looked up at Sanford, “Say something.”

Sanford smiled. His hands moved up to hold Deimos’ shoulders. “Hi, Deimos.”

The soothingness of Sanford’s voice was back. Everything else felt like needles trying to use him as a pincushion, but needles were better than bullets. In two little words, Deimos was melting with a silly smile, finally able to straighten his vision and being held by what he saw. “Hey, Sanford. You smell like shit.”

Sanford’s snort was a happy chime in the musky air. “Yeah, because you smell any better. Works?”

“Yep, I’m just a drama queen.”

Sanford huffed. He shook his head, his hands falling down Deimos’ arm to his hands as he started to stand up. His grip wasn’t tight enough to force Deimos to stand; it was his choice to make. He took it. They didn’t let go of each other’s hands. “You’re not a drama queen. Next time, just say something, okay? Yeah, we’re in a crunch here, but there’s time for you.”

Deimos bit the inside of his lip. If he hadn’t been crying earlier, he came pretty close to then and there. He gently shoved Sanford’s shoulder, but put a hand on his bicep to keep him from actually moving. “Dammit, dude, don’t get so sentimental.”

Sanford smiled. There was his stupid, stupid man. He couldn’t help but chuckle, which made Deimos snicker under his hand before he took a step back. Unfortunately, he did have to reload his gun, because they did have to move. Sanford still kept a watchful eye out. Once Deimos was standing at the ready, Sanford couldn’t help but smirk. He flicked one of the loose pieces from the knot around his forehead. 

“If you’re a drama queen, is this your crown?” Sanford teased.

With a flushed face he waved away Sanford’s hand, the two of them in hushed laughter. Deimos shook his head, and this time Sanford knew he was fine. The playfulness in his voice was real. “I’m mostly good now, but maybe you should still shut the fuck up.”

Sanford laughed as Deimos started to walk to the opening of their hide-y hole, quickly stepping to his side. “What? Should I carry you, too, your Highness?”

Deimos groaned into a flustered laugh as Sanford grinned, gently nudging his way in front of Deimos to guide him out in the best direction. His arm still brushed against Deimos’. 

He smiled up at his partner.

“C’mon, get a move on,” Deimos said, “I still wanna get out of this place alive."

[kaleuh]

Day 188: What are you always carrying around with you?

My phone! And (hold on, emptying my purse, agh fuck, pennies everywhere, i need to clean this out more)

-A crumpled coupon for sweet cherries and corn at ShopRite (expired 7/6) -Warm Vanilla Sugar hand sanitizer -A single, lone, red d20 -An expired Wyndham hotel keycard -Off-brand "poprocks" wrapper -License, debit card, library card, health insurance card, SBA police card -A vial of dandelion perfume (half full) -Smoothie punch card (8 more and I get a free smoothie) -New Jersey Transit ticket receipt -Business card of one Steven Jay Sanford, who carves wooden sculptures of ducks for a living -Six restaurant/grocery receipts (three are completely illegible, not even sure what they're for honestly) -a World's Smallest toy catalogue (it is about the size of my thumb) -Two different sparkly lip glosses -Three pairs of clip-on earrings (one is missing) -A few single dollar bills -a pearly, clear-beaded hairclip in the shape of a bow -Old key to my parents' house (with a flashlight keychain) -New key to my parents' house (with a flashlight keychain) -My dead uncle's Mass card, "Grieve Not... Nor speak of me with tears... But laugh and talk of me as though I were beside you. I loved you so... 'Twas heaven here with you." -a tiny comb -top of a [REDACTED] wrapper -Four chapsticks (Vaseline, 'Bubble Yum' bubblegum, classic Cherry chapstick, and Ruby Soapworks' Peach lip balm) -A Slim Jim ('Best by' date unintelligible..) -Floss sticks -Listerine spray -Spare car key -A blue lighter, not because I smoke but because a lighter is very handy to have regardless! -A long expired chinese mint I never opened as I kept thinking, "Ooo a mint! I'll save that for later!" (later never came) -Crest Whitening Strip -A gold necklace (unopened) -Two lipsticks (one Milani #12 'I Am Radiant', and, no joke, the same god damn 'Mauve' Icing lipstick I had 10 years ago that I listed on this challenge last time. They discontinued it so I've been really making it last!!!!) -tissues with lipstick on them (gross) -My favorite perfume, a vial of Peach Nectar, made by @paranoidgemsbok at Ruby Soapworks. I don't fully classify it as perfume, since it is, instead, crack to me. If I'm going out with people, it's already on my body. If I realize it's not, I will quickly rectify that and then make everyone take a hit of it. It's more than halfway gone. Would vape this if I could -Also a vial of Ruby Soapworks' Bourbon Vanilla perfume, which is also wonderful -My apartment keys (printed with Spiderman and Hello Kitty patterns) looped in with a ShopRite member card, a Wendy's 'Free Frostys for 2024' card, and my two ADORABLE and gorgeous Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle keychains by @frenchiefie!

I usually have a hairtie and a flower hairclip too, but they tend to be on me! Anyway, PHEW!!

[mysteryfox1]

I was meant to post this on father's day but I completely forgot

[centralperkchenford]

Oooo an Ava fic where she’s meets Chris because I love how chaotic and unfiltered she is

Oooo an Ava fic where she’s meets Chris because I love how chaotic and unfiltered she is

Chenford + Ava and Lucy run into Chris

I totally forgot this was in my drafts 🤣. I hope you like it!

And be sure, darling to make all the good times last

Lucy holds Ava’s hand as they make their way into the police station. Ava skips and pulls Lucy along. They were just stopping by to see Tim before Lucy dropped Ava off at school.

“Daddy is going to be so happy to see me.” Ava gushes and Lucy ruffles her hair as she opens the door. Ava skips in and is bouncing on her toes looking around for Tim.

“He’s probably in his office baby.” Lucy tells her. Ava barely hears her as she continues to skip across the bullpen.

“Ava watch where you are going!” Lucy calls after her just as Ava runs straight into someone with a brief case.

Ava falls flat on her butt and Lucy hurries over as tears pool in her eyes. “I’m so sorry.” Lucy says quickly pulling Ava to her feet. And she’s so focused on making sure her daughter is okay she doesn’t even look up to see who she ran in to.

“Lucy?” Says the man and Lucy freezes as she slowly looks up to see Chris Sanford staring down at Lucy and Ava. His eyes flicker to Ava, and then back to Lucy his jaw clenched.

“Oh hi Chris.” Says Lucy nervously dusting Ava’s shirt off and then standing to her feet. She holds Ava’s hand in hers. Ava is looking up at Chris curiously and Lucy can practically see the wheels in her head turning.

“Who are you?” Ava asks finally. Chris’s eyes go back to Ava as he studies her. He glances at Lucy again, and then his gaze goes back to Ava.

“I’m Chris.” He answers and Lucy can hear the edge to his voice. “Who are you?”

“I’m Ava Rose Bradford.” Says Ava proudly. “I’m five years old.” She holds up her hand.

Chris’s jaw clenches even more when he hears the name Bradford. “Cute.” Says Chris and then he turns to Lucy his eyes flashing with anger.

“It’s bad enough you married Bradford.” He hisses. “And now you have a kid with him?” Lucy rolls her eyes. She had no idea Chris even knew her and Tim were married. Did he really expect her not to start a family with Tim? Did he expect her to come running back to him?

“I really don’t want to discuss this in front of my daughter.” She says back calmly. Chris glares at her.

“Right. Once a bitch always a bitch.” He whispers angrily. Ava looks up and crosses her arms crossed her chest.

“Why are you being such a meanie to my mommy?” She demands. Chris ignores Ava and turns back to Lucy.

But before he can say anything more Ava is looking up at him a frown on her face. “My mommy and daddy taught me if you can’t say somethin nice don’t say anything at all!” She says shaking her tiny fist at him. “And you broke that. You are a meanie weenie.”

Lucy snorts at the look on Chris’s face as she pulls Ava to her. Chris opens his mouth to say something else but then there are footsteps coming towards them and all three of them turn to see Tim coming towards them. Ava squeals and runs towards him and Tim catches her easily. He frowns at Chris but ignores him in favor of giving Lucy a kiss on her head and then he turns to Chris.

“Sanford.” He says cooly. Lucy sees Ava glaring at Chris again. “He was mean to mommy.” Ava says pointing her finger at Chris. Tim raises his eyebrows at Lucy and she mouths later.

“Your daughter is..” Chris begins but stops when he sees Tim’s face. “I gotta go.” He hurries off and Ava sticks her tongue out at his back. “Bye meanie weenie!” She says loudly causing Chris to stumble a little. Tim sets Ava at his feet and keeps her close.

“Meanie weenie?” He questions Lucy. Lucy has to bite her tongue to hold back her laugh.

“She’s not wrong.” She tells him.

Tim snorts and then bends down to Ava’s level. “Why was that man mean to mommy?”Ava asks. Tim sighs and kisses her on the cheek.

“Some people are just mean people baby. But you did good defending your mama.” Tim says and Ava beams at him.

“I don’t think you are a meanie weenie.” She tells him and then she hugs him. “You are the nicest daddy ever!”

Lucy smiles down at her daughter as Tim holds their daughter in his arms. He grins up at her.

“Did you hear that? I’m not a meanie weenie.” He says. Lucy rolls her eyes at him as he stands up. And smiles as Tim gazes at his daughter, nothing but love and affection in his eyes.

And Lucy thinks back to when she was dating Chris and how she felt stuck with him because he was the safe choice. And how if Tim hadn’t pushed her to admit her feelings she wouldn’t be married to Tim or have her four beautiful kids. She had regrets in her life but giving her relationship with Tim a chance wasn’t one of them. She smiles as Tim leans over to give her another kiss. And then pulls Ava closer, “I love you.” He mutters.

And yeah she loves her life.

[nevadas-night-time-novelist]

Under the mistletoe

Hank: No lips, so they won't kiss you. You can kiss them on their jaw or teeth though. Will expect it anytime either of you walk under it.

Doc: Grumbles about it, but will take his mask off and kiss your cheek. Nothing more. He won't do it again.

Deimos: Yes please, he'll go full on pulling you into a romantic dip and all. He's going to try push his tongue in your mouth. He will be camping under it for you or San to walk under it again.

Sanford: Intense blushing, but will give you a chaste kiss on the lips. PDA isn't his strongest suit. He will do it again if you or Dei are under it.

Tricky: He's gonna shove his tongue in your throat 100% He's gonna stand there all night and demand another kiss when you're in the room.

Hofnarr: A polite yet sweet kiss, bright pink cheeks all the while. He'll happily do it again.

Jeb: He'll roll his eyes but there's a playfulness to it. He'll kiss your hand, forehead, or cheek. Might do it one or two more times, but no more.

Crackpot: No kiss. The mask stays ON.

Sheriff: please please please (he's down bad) He'll kiss you as many times as you'll let him.

Auditor: No. He'll burn the damn thing.

Torture: Your face is tiny compared to his lips, you're gonna be covered in slobber if you try.

Phobos: A piece of greenery telling a God what to do?? Pathetic. He didn't say you could leave, come back here and kiss your God, mortal.

Chopper Dave: Orite love, why not eh? Tis the season. He tastes strongly of whiskey.

Q Bert: Aye go on then, but only once, alright?

Bossman: Why? He will once, but he'll keep asking why.

Skinner: Of course! As many kisses for his favourite little patient.

Church: Bet you did this on purpose, didn't you? He's going to keep you under the mistletoe all night.

Jorge: Of course you did it on purpose. These two are going to fight over you, both jealous when you kiss the other.

Gestalt: What.

(Feel free to comment anyone I missed/you want added and I'll add em.)