This song has been stuck in my head for like three weeks now. So I made a jayvik AMV out of it. Like you do.
(This is my first AMV ever and iMovie is terrible, so please be kind, but concrit and/or suggestions of better software if I ever do this again are absolutely welcome!)
Countdown to 2026: Dec 15 - dreamling / hunger games / oven
"Good luck," said his handler, and Hob turned to face the door, bouncing on his toes.
Ignore the supplies, he reminded himself. He could improvise most of what would be in the pile and steal or loot other things later. The most important thing was to get as much distance from the others as possible and find a place to hide while he scoped out the arena. Let the others thin the ranks. He didn't need to set any records. He just needed to survive.
He reconsidered that strategy briefly when the outer shields fell and he realized that they were in an icy pine forest, snow piled up nearly to his knees.
There would be coats and hats and snowshoes and skis in the supply pile, he was sure.
No. Just run.
The bell rang and the doors opened.
Hob ran.
~
"Don't come another step closer if you want to live through the night," Hob snarled, even as he was turning to face whoever had stepped on the dry branches he'd scattered around his makeshift shelter.
Dream's pale face all but glowed in the moonlight as he raised his hands to show them empty.
Empty hands meant little, out here.
"I have come to propose an alliance," Dream said. His voice was deeper than Hob would have guessed. He'd acquired a heavy parka at some point during the day, and smeared something on it -- mud, probably -- to keep its bright color from standing out too much.
"Without your sibling?"
Dream's lip curled into a sneer. "They have allied themself with Burgess," he said. "Both of them want me dead."
"Mate, it's the Games, we all want each other dead."
"No," Dream said solemnly. "We may need each other dead. But most of us would not seek it, if it were not necessary. Desire would have cheerfully murdered me in my sleep years ago, if they thought they could get away with it."
"Mm." Hob shifted a little so he could keep Dream in his line of sight, and went back to work. "What kind of alliance?"
"Mutual aid, sleep shifts. Hostilities not to resume without warning and a head start for us both."
Hob snorted. "I'm just supposed to believe that, am I?"
"Unless you are able to function without sleep for days on end, yes."
"And what exactly do you bring to this alliance?"
Slowly, telegraphing his movements, Dream crouched and reached out. He grabbed something off the ground and held it up: a blanket. Still in its wrapping. The tamper seal on the wrapping hadn't even been broken.
Dream thought of himself as honorable. Hob could probably trust him for one night, at least.
"Fine," he said. "Give me that blanket and get down here."
Dream slid down into the low depression Hob had found. "Why are you making a pile of mud?" he asked. "Please tell me you're not planning to hide in there."
Hob rolled his eyes and slapped more mud onto the structure's top. "Honestly, it's like you've never seen an oven before."
The utterly amazing @polarbeari granted a wish that I made more than a year ago and drew art for the final scene of Whistled a Tune to the Window!!!
LOOK AT HOW PRETTY IT IS! They sent it to me yesterday and I am still screeching and crying about how much I love it!
Here's the snippet of the fic that it's from:
Jayce used his own phone to respond: a photo of the corner of his jaw and the fresh hickey that Viktor had sucked into his throat just below it. Viktor’s hand was just barely visible in the shot, delicately holding Jayce’s chin at the correct angle. (And Caitlyn probably wouldn’t notice but Jayce’s notebook was open under his head and he was absolutely going to make this his new lockscreen photo.)
And of course I've embedded it in the fic (with @polarbeari's permission) for future readers to enjoy!
Countdown to 2026: Dec 16 - winteriron / hallmark movie / candle
Tony threw his suitcase into the trunk of the taxi with what he intended to be determination and probably came out more like petulance. He refused to look back at the giant Christmas tree in the center of the quaint town square, or the little B&B they were leaving that was decked out with lights that sparkled and called to him, a candle shining in every window.
He slid into the back seat of the taxi and folded his arms.
Damn Ty for agreeing to go back to the city early. He'd promised they could have a whole two weeks here together. They hadn't even made it to Christmas Eve before he'd gotten a call from the firm insisting that Ty was the only one who could untangle the problem they'd found, and no, it absolutely could not wait until after New Year's.
They'd barely gone a handful of blocks before Ty reached over to put a hand on Tony's thigh. "I wasn't entirely sure that you were going to come with me," he admitted.
Tony raised an eyebrow at him. "Why would I want to stay here if you're going home? It's not a romantic getaway if I'm by myself."
Ty laughed thinly. "I guess not. I thought you might invite someone else to join you."
Tony twisted in his seat to stare at his fiancé. "Someone else," he repeated flatly.
Ty held up both hands in surrender. "I was wrong, I admit it."
Tony was not appeased. "Just who did you think I might invite, Ty?" He knew exactly who Ty was thinking of. But he wanted Ty to say it.
"Now, Tony, don't get upset," Ty said. "You have to admit, you were spending a lot of time with that Barnes guy."
"Because you didn't want to do anything with me," Tony pointed out. "If you'd just--" He pressed his lips together. There wasn't much point in arguing. "Never mind," he said shortly. "Just... Have a little faith, Ty. You can't get jealous every time I make a friend."
"I'll work on it," Ty promised, his eyes wide and blue and radiating sincerity and charm. Somehow, they still weren't as warm as James's icy gray eyes.
Tony patted his pocket and groaned. He leaned forward and said, "Hey, can you stop at the Pine Branch drugstore up ahead? I'll only be a minute."
"No problem!" the driver said cheerfully.
"Tony, we don't have time to stop," Ty protested.
"It will only take a minute," Tony insisted. "I'm out of gum."
"Babe, we can get gum at the airport."
"No, I want the kind they make here, with the local peppermint. I'll just grab a couple of packs for the trip and then I can order more online when we get home. I'm not going to make us late, I promise."
"Fine, whatever," Ty sighed.
When the taxi pulled up to the curb, Tony jumped out and dashed into the store. Every store in Pine Branch had a huge display of local peppermint products, it seemed, so it shouldn't take him long to find.
He dashed down the first aisle, and-- whump! -- slammed right into someone. He would have fallen if they hadn't caught one of his arms. "Shit, sorry--"
"Hey, you o-- Tony?"
Tony looked up. It was James. Because of course it was James, of course it was. "James," he sighed.
"You're leaving town?" For just an instant, James looked hurt, wounded, and then he shuttered his expression, but Tony knew what he meant was, You're leaving me?
"I have to go," Tony said, though it felt like ripping thorns out of his lungs to get the words out. "I made a promise to him, James."
"Yeah," James said softly. "I guess you did." He took a breath and squared his shoulders, the pinned-up sleeve swaying a little with the motion. "I'm sorry you'll miss the Christmas Eve candle-lighting in town, though. It's really something. Wait--" He reached into his pocket and came out with a little votive candle. "Here. Take this with you. Light it on Christmas Eve, and... and maybe think of me, from time to time."
"James, I--"
"Nah, s'okay, Tony," James said. "I got my wish. I got to meet an angel." He brushed his thumb across Tony's cheek. "I hope you'll be happy."
"You too," Tony whispered. He hesitated for an instant, then kissed James's cheek before he turned to leave.
When he got back into the taxi, Ty sighed. "Finally," he said. "Are you ready to go, now?"
Tony looked down at the little votive candle in his hand, the beeswax soft against his palm and smelling faintly of peppermint and honey. "I..."
Be happy, tesoro, his mother whispered in his memory. I only want you to be happy.
You could have all the money in the world, Pepper had told him, just a couple of years ago, and it still wouldn't guarantee you'll be happy.
Rhodey had looked into his eyes when he'd broken the news about the engagement with Ty, and said, You're my brother, Tones. If that's the guy who's going to make you happy, you have my blessing.
"Do I make you happy?" he asked.
"What do you mean?" Ty said. "Of course you do. This is absolutely the smartest move we could make. We'll own Wall Street and Silicon Valley."
"Yeah, but do I make you happy?" Tony pressed.
Ty frowned. "Babe--"
"Aside from the business," Tony said. "If both our companies went belly-up overnight and we were left with absolutely nothing, would you still want to be with me?"
"Of course I would," Ty said, and for an instant, Tony felt like sagging in relief. And then Ty said, "No one knows the tech market better than you, and with my business savvy, we'd be back on top again in no time. Besides, that prenup we both signed had a hefty payout if either of us backs out."
You keep your promises, Howard snarled in Tony's ear. If your word is worthless, then so are you.
But Howard's angry tirade was faded and old, and the man who'd been more of a father to him than Howard had said, If you are happy, Master Anthony, then I am content.
"Stop the car!" Tony said.
"What? Tony, what are you doing?"
Tony fumbled off his engagement ring -- the huge, gaudy thing that he'd never liked -- and pushed it into Ty's hands. "I'm going to the candle-lighting ceremony on Christmas Eve," Tony said, and got out of the taxi again, shaking and giddy. "I'll have my lawyers call your office after the New Year to settle up on the prenup," he promised, and then he was running back the way they'd come.
"Tony!" Ty called, but Tony barely heard him.
Three blocks ahead, a familiar figure had just stepped out of the Pine Branch drug store.
Tony held tight to the candle James had given him, and ran faster.
Countdown to 2026: Dec 20 - deadboys / fake relationship / quilt
"There he is," Edwin hissed. "Don't look, you tosser! You'll give the whole thing away!"
Charles blew out a breath. "I ain't giving it away," he said, as patiently as he knew how. "What's suspicious about your new squeeze wanting a look at your ex?"
"What a dreadful word," Edwin said distastefully, immediately diverted, which may or may not have been the reason Charles had said it. "Squeeze. It makes you sound like a tube of toothpaste."
Charles scoffed. "It's talking about hugging and kissing, innit? I like it."
"You would."
"Oi! You should be a little nicer to your boyfriend, don't you think?" He wasn't really offended. Mostly, he just wanted to get Edwin to relax a little, or he really would give the whole thing up. Edwin was the smartest guy Charles had ever known, but he couldn't lie worth a damn. "Why the fuck did the girls invite him to the wedding, anyway?"
"I'm not sure Crystal knows exactly what-- oh god, he's coming this way!"
Charles was hard-pressed not to roll his eyes. Of course Thomas was coming over to talk to Edwin; that was why Edwin had begged Charles to pretend to be his boyfriend for the weekend in the first place. "Mate," Charles said, "don't look at him. Look at me."
"I'm trying, but it's really distracting!"
"Know what else is distracting?" Charles said, and when Edwin glanced at him, Charles tipped up his chin and kissed Edwin right on the mouth.
Edwin froze for about two seconds and then melted into it.
It wasn't so different from kissing girls, Charles thought. He wasn't used to being the shorter one, but that was all right. Edwin had shaved right before they'd come to the wedding, so there was no stubble to contend with. The only real difference that Charles noticed was that the chest pressed to his wasn't soft and squishy.
He nudged gently until he had Edwin pressed against the wall, his leg tucked neatly between Edwin's thighs, and then let it stretch out for another minute before he pulled away.
Edwin chased after it for a beat and then recovered, his eyes fluttering open. His pupils were blown wide, and his lips were still parted as he panted for breath. "...Oh," he said softly.
Charles smirked at him. "Is the prick still coming over?"
"Uh." Edwin blinked a few times before finally tearing his gaze away from Charles's mouth to scan the room. "No," he said. "He's at the gift table now." He took a steadying breath, and then his mouth curved a little. "Do you kiss all your dates like that?"
"Nah," Charles said. "Only the really cute ones."
Edwin's cheeks pinked, but he huffed and gently pushed Charles away so he could stand up straight. "I'm going to the washroom," he said. "If Thomas tries to follow me in there--"
"Brain him with a beer bottle?" Charles suggested, and grinned wide at Edwin's expression. "Nah, I've got it," he promised. "Go on."
Charles waited until Edwin had disappeared down the door to stroll casually over to the gift table, where Thomas was pretending to admire what seemed to be a hand-sewn quilt made with fabric printed with Niko's favorite anime characters. He glanced up as Charles approached. "Charlie," he greeted with every appearance of cordiality.
"It's Charles, and you need to stay away from him."
"I was just coming over to congratulate you two on finally getting together," Thomas said, hurt. He traced the pattern of stitches with one sharp fingernail.
"What does that mean when it's at home?" Charles demanded.
Thomas laughed softly. "He didn't tell you. I should have guessed. The reason that Edwin and I didn't work out, dear boy, was because he couldn't get over his years-long crush on you."
"Don't be stupid," Charles said. "I'd have known. He's a terrible liar."
Thomas looked amused. "Perhaps not as bad a liar as you think," he purred. "But it doesn't matter now, does it? You're together." He flipped one corner of the quilt over to reveal the somewhat eye-searing pattern of hearts on the reverse side. "Well, I think I'll go offer my congratulations to the beautiful brides, and then be on my way. No hard feelings, Charlie."
"It's Charles," he growled, but Thomas was already sauntering away.
Thomas had to have been lying, Charles thought, staring blindly down at the hearts. There was no way Edwin had ever had a crush on him. Edwin was his best mate, he would have known.
...Wouldn't he?
He was suddenly flipping through his memories, searching for clues. Nothing stood out as obvious, but it... would explain a few odd moments.
Perhaps not as bad a liar as you think.
"There you are," Edwin said, stepping into the space Thomas had just vacated. Charles looked at him, and Edwin's eyes widened in alarm. "What's wrong? What happened?"
Charles licked his lips. Did Edwin's eyes drift down to watch just because it was movement? Or for... other reasons? "Can we... step outside for a minute?" he said. His voice sounded far away, like it was coming from the other end of a long tunnel. "I need some air. And to ask you something."
Chapters: 1/3
Fandom: Arcane: League of Legends (Cartoon 2021)
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Relationships: Jayce/Viktor (League of Legends), Silco (Arcane: League of Legends) & Viktor (League of Legends), Jayce (League of Legends)/Sky (Arcane: League of Legends), Viktor/lots of people
Characters: Viktor (League of Legends), Caitlyn (League of Legends), Jayce (League of Legends), Silco (Arcane: League of Legends)
Additional Tags: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - Historical, 16th century Venice but make it omegaverse, Alpha Jayce (League of Legends), Omega Viktor (League of Legends), Jealousy, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Illness/injury, loosely based on the movie Dangerous Beauty, Arranged Marriage, (not between jayvik), courtesan Viktor (League of Legends), Sex Work, Breaking Up & Making Up, Infidelity, (at least technically-see notes), Relationship Negotiation, the relationships ive changed from canon are legion please check the notes, minor/background Powder, minor/background Mel, past/referenced Silco/Vander, multiple OCs - Freeform
Summary:
Viktor Reveck has been in love with Jayce Kiramman since he knew what his heart was for. It took longer for Jayce to notice Viktor as more than his little sister's friend, but once he did, he fell immediately and irrevocably in love. Unfortunately, it takes more than love to make a marriage among the noble houses of Venice.
Jayce is married to Sky, an omega from a vastly wealthy and powerful family in Rome, while Viktor learns to embrace the life of a courtesan—one of the very few routes to wealth and power available to an omega—to provide for his family.
Their love lingers, however, and there is war on the horizon…
~
I’m back! This one will update weekly! (And don’t worry, there is still more in the works!)
Countdown to 2026: Dec 13 - dreamling / roommates / frost
There was frost on the windowpane.
Hob sat on his bed and traced its intricacies with his eyes and tried not to think.
There was frost on the windowpane, and he wanted to call his roommate over to see it. To goad him about it. "What's the story in that, huh?"
Dream would find a story in the frost, because that was what Dream did. Dream found stories in everything. He found the fantastic inside of the mundane, and the familiar inside of the wondrous.
Hob had teased him about it from their first meeting. "Who majors in creative writing, anyway? What kind of job can you get with that?"
Dream had looked down his nose at Hob, sneering, and that was when Hob found out that Dream came from money. Not just money, but Money. Old money. The kind of old money that considered a career in anything other than managing one's investments to be gauche.
That was three years ago, before they'd become friends.
Before Hob had fallen in love.
Before that love had been returned.
And long before Dream's parents had decided that Dream had committed some unforgivable sin -- Hob still didn't understand exactly what Dream had done to incur their often capricious and disproportionate wrath -- and sent his older sister, sympathetic but unyielding, to bring him home.
It had been almost a month since Hob had heard anything from Dream. Dream's parents had undoubtedly cut off all of his contact with the wider world. Hob had spent hours every night digging through news outlets and gossip sites and even conspiracy boards in search of even a mention of Dream.
As far as he could tell, there was no evidence that Dream had ever existed, except for the pictures in Hob's phone, jealously guarded, and the things Dream had left behind when he'd followed his sister out of the dorm, hands empty and head held high.
Hob stared at the curling fractal pattern of the frost on the window and didn't think about the way Dream's scent had faded from his pillow and blankets.
He didn't think about the bottle of his own favorite wine that he'd found tucked into the corner of Dream's wardrobe when Hob had invaded it, digging for clues of any sort. He didn't think about the card he'd found with the wine, as yet unsigned, that on the front had said Happy Anniversary. He didn't let himself wonder what sort of note Dream would have written in it before giving it to Hob. It would have been beautiful. A tribute to their own story, no doubt.
Their anniversary had been last week.
Hob had skipped all of his classes and stayed in bed with his phone, hoping against hope.
The next morning, desolate, Hob had stumbled out of the building, bleary from lack of sleep, and found that some enterprising sidewalk artist had written FOLLOW YOUR DREAM on the pavement. Hob had fallen to his knees right there and burst into tears. He would have followed Dream, he thought, if he'd had the slightest idea how. The family had properties in every part of the world, in more than a dozen countries, and Hob's funds were limited. He'd explained all of that to the stray dog who'd found him and let him cry into its shaggy fur for the price of a few spoonfuls of peanut butter.
Now there was frost on the window, slowly curling inward. Soon, the path of its growth was going to reach the barrier of itself and be forced to splinter its neat spiral and expand in a new direction. Hob watched it, and wondered what kind of story Dream would make of it.
Beyond the frost, on the far side of the green and coming down the path toward the dorm, was a couple. A huge, bearish man made even larger by the bulk of a heavy coat and hat and scarf, and a much smaller person of indeterminate gender whose uncovered head and shoulders hunched inward against the cold. Why hadn't they worn something warmer? It was already freezing and the sun was sinking below the horizon, bathing everything in molten gold and casting long, blue shadows that looked darker than the actual night.
Why hadn't the massive boyfriend shared his own things? Even just the scarf would help.
Hob was feeling colder, just looking at them.
The pair kept walking, and Hob kept watching them. They didn't seem to be talking, though it was hard to tell when the big one's mouth was covered by his scarf and the small one's head was down as if to watch their feet. The small one was limping, just a little.
That one reminded Hob of Dream, a bit. Though they were thinner even than Dream had been, and Dream had never exuded so little energy. Even standing perfectly still, Dream had always lit the room with his inner fire. This person looked sad and small, though maybe it was just the way the cold turned them inward.
It had to be the resemblance to Dream that had Hob thinking about running outside to give them his own scarf and hat. He wasn't using them, after all. He'd been wearing Dream's, since the weather had turned shortly after Dream's precipitous departure.
He was still considering it when their head lifted to look up at the dorm, breath streaming visibly like the smoke from a dragon's nostrils, and even though they were still only halfway across the green, Hob saw the blue of their eyes.
For the space of three shallow breaths, Hob was as frozen and trapped as the curl of frost on the window.
Countdown to 2026: Dec 28 - winteriron / role reversal / socks
"Do you think they thought swapping our minds would make us less efficient?" Bucky wondered as he steered the armor into escort position, just above and behind the quinjet.
"Might've worked better if they'd put more thought into who to swap," Steve said, sighting down the length of one of Hawkeye's arrows toward the cockpit, where Tony was sitting co-pilot for Natasha, who'd been swapped into Sam's body.
"A lot of our skills are highly transferrable," Clint said. He was idly swinging Steve's shield around, playing with the balance of it.
Sam shrugged, idly flipping Natasha's stun baton. "They probably don't look like that from the outside," he suggested. "Also, many of us are highly-trained. Took me a sec to remember my hand-to-hand and figure out how to deal with the counterweights."
"Counterweights," Natasha scoffed, eyes on the horizon. "If I can work around your dick, you can deal with my tits. They're not that big. And the new tac-suit has really good built-in compression so they don't even bounce around."
"You're welcome," Tony said. "Swing south a bit, give the incoming disaster crews the straighter path."
Natasha didn't answer, but she pushed on the stick and the jet banked southward.
"I bet they were really surprised that Bruce and Scott barely even stumbled," Bucky said, his grin audible even over the comms.
"Scott's been big before," Tony pointed out. He glanced back toward the Hulk's little relaxation corner. Scott was sound asleep, it looked like. "And Bruce is too smart to be disoriented for long. Honestly, the position-change was more startling for me than the hardware downgrade."
"Who're you calling a downgrade, Sprocket?" Bucky shot back.
"It's not that I don't appreciate your body, snowflake, it's just that I appreciate it more from the outside. And your elbow motivator circuit is sluggish, why haven't you told me about that yet?"
"My motivator is fine," Bucky said. "What we really need to discuss is your socks."
"What's wrong with my socks?" Tony demanded.
Natasha pushed a button on the console. "JARVIS, switch the idiots to a private comms channel, would you?"
"It would be my pleasure," JARVIS assured her.
Tony heard a click.
"What was that?" Bucky asked.
"Nat thinks the sock comment was flirting, I think," Tony said. She shot him a cool look, which sat oddly on Sam's face.
"I suppose it could be if you wanted," Bucky said, "but mostly it's just weird that you're wearing socks over your flight suit. It feels like my toes are going numb."
"I get cold!" Tony protested.
"Don't worry, baby. Soon's Strange gets everyone back into their right bodies, I'll warm you right up."