#Fic: Snow Day

[empty-cryptid]

@wildlyironicbee

Happy holidays and a wonderful new year to you!

I hope you like it. <3

[kinselu]

they have him pinned, but at least they're warm!

fanart for @tsunochizu 's backwards through the snow fic! im SO normal about this story (still emotionally recovering from chapter 15) i love this fic so much <3

they are the STINKIEST of family...

(for those who haven't read this fic, first of all, go read it now. but also pebbles is mostly ok. kinda. hes just dirty and stinky... amongst other things)

[francixoxoxo]

𐙚𝒯𝒾𝓃𝓎 𝒟𝒶𝓃𝒸ℯ𝓇 ୨ৎ

𝒞ℴ𝓇𝒾ℴ𝓁𝒶𝓃𝓊𝓈 𝒮𝓃ℴ𝓌 𝒳 ℬ𝒶𝓁𝓁ℯ𝓇𝒾𝓃𝒶 𝓇ℯ𝒶𝒹ℯ𝓇

𝐁𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐭 𝐢𝐬 𝐚 𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲 𝐩𝐡𝐲𝐬𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐝𝐞𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠. 𝐘𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐝𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐡𝐮𝐬𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐝, 𝐂𝐨𝐫𝐲𝐨, 𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐚𝐠𝐞𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐭 𝐚𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐚 𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡 𝐫𝐞𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐬𝐚𝐥 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐮𝐝𝐢𝐨.

𝐓𝐖: 𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐜𝐫𝐢𝐩𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐛𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬, 𝐛𝐫𝐮𝐢𝐬𝐞𝐬, 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐥 𝐟𝐨𝐨𝐭 𝐢𝐧𝐣𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐲𝐩𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐥 𝐨𝐟 𝐚 𝐛𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐚

𝒴𝒶’𝓁𝓁 𝒹ℴ𝓃’𝓉 𝓂𝒶𝓀ℯ 𝒾𝓉 𝓌ℯ𝒾𝓇𝒹 𝒶𝒷𝓉 𝓉𝒽ℯ 𝒻ℯℯ𝓉！！

Ballet was your passion. It was like when you entered that room, glossy hardwood under-toe and expansive mirrors across the wall— you forgot your body’s limits.

At the end of the day, the lactic acid would kick in and you’d feel like a true cripple. Your toes were cracked, your spine brittle, your legs stiff from being pulled so taught.

Coriolanus was so, so endearingly supportive of you. Your grace was unmatched in every endeavor you took, yet ballet was your calling. He was at every performance, your enamored husband, yet careful to respect your wishes of letting your success be solely from your work. You were adamant that you didn’t want him pulling strings for you.

If he couldn’t use his political power as President to get you ahead, he’d dote on every single other aspect of your dancing.

A leotard in every color you pleased. The best hairstylists and gentlest products to keep your hair silky and healthy, unlike what most ballerinas had to deal with. Hell, a whole dance studio in the presidential mansion all to yourself for the few days you didn’t have rehearsal with your dance company.

Coriolanus noticed in particular that your feet took the largest toll. Bruised and battered between heels for events as the First Lady of Panem and pointe shoes for performances as a Prima Ballerina… it broke his heart. He saw to it that your slippers were custom-made to fit your feet, the finest quality and comfortable as possible.

And yet, though the pain was exponentially better, your passion continued to discomfort you. You’d insisted how much you loved ballet, insisted that you didn’t mind some pain in the face of your career.

That didn’t mean that Coryo didn’t feel awful.

One night, Coryo slipped into the dance studio. You were somehow more awake than him in the late hours of the night. He’d finished up his address for the next cabinet meeting, and for the first time in the past few months felt truly ready for bed.

You? Not so much. You were in your ballet slippers, in a cream-colored leotard and pink skirt. Working your pretty little ass off. You were practicing an important routine for the next show, which you had an important role in. When you heard the door open, your heels immediately hit the floor and your head whipped to see Coriolanus.

You let out a soft sigh. “You scared me.”

“Sorry.” Your husband cooed, his sapphire eyes shamelessly drinking you in. He waved a hand to you as he crossed the room to sit on the bench against the wall. “Keep going, my love, don’t let me stop you.”

You smiled a bit shyly, turning around so your back was to him. You met his eyes in the mirror as you began from where you left off in the dance, a dainty arabesque.

Coryo just leaned against the wall, his legs spreading lazily as he sat and watched you dance. You were absolutely captivating in every movement. Graceful and iridescently beautiful.

That was, until you couldn’t bear to dance on the pointe of your slippers and stumbled a bit. You groaned in frustration, slipping to your knees in a smooth and somehow still elegant motion.

“What happened?” Coriolanus sat up now, brows drawing in concern as you began to undo the ribbons of your pointe shoe. You shook your head, rigid with frustration.

“I think it’s time for bed.” You admit, slipping your right flat off and undoing the thick bandage wrapped from your heel to your toes.

You grimaced at the sight of your foot. Some of your toes were purple with bruises, cruel and mocking blisters on your knuckles. There were indivudual bandages around certain more damaged toes, a bandaid under the ball of your foot. The bones of your foot were strained against your skin. Even you could admit that you looked beaten.

Before you realized it, Coryo was scooping you up with his arms under your back and knees. You gasped a little, though it delved into a little giggle. He couldn’t pretend that your battered feet didn’t bother him, he couldn’t manage a smile. Your husband gently sat you down on the bench he had been on, reaching for your ballet duffel bag. He dug around a bit.

“Poor baby.” Coriolanus cooed, pressing a kiss to your knee as he shifted to kneel at your feet. In his hand he clutched a roll of soft pink bandages and a tube of Neosporin you kept in your bag. “It looks like it hurts.”

You hummed, admiring the sight of Coryo on his knees in front of you. His sleeves were rolled up to his elbows and baring his forearms, his dress shirt’s top few buttons unbuttoned. His hair was ungelled, to your delight. “It’s not that bad.”

But you flinched as Coryo pressed gently on a bruise with his thumb. He’d hardly applied any pressure, and you were reacting like that. “This? This isn’t that bad?” Coriolanus huffed, he held your foot in one hand and gestured to it by lifting it just a bit. He raised his brows, blue eyes wide in disbelief. He shook his head disapprovingly, looking down and applying some Neosporin to the opened blisters on your toes.

“My love, you’re pushing yourself too far.” Coryo murmured, his breath warm on your shin as he reached for the bandages. He took loving care in wrapping your foot, once, twice, as much padding as he needed to ease his mind.

You shake your head. “Don’t be dramatic, Coryo. This is normal.” You watched your husband’s jaw tick. He leaned down to press a tender kiss to your ankle, his eyelashes tickling your calf.

“Normal, fine. But I’m not dramatic when I say that it hurts to see.” Coriolanus turned to lean his head against your knee, unraveling the ribbons of your other slipper with an agonizingly gentle touch. His fingers were featherlight, as if you’d crumble under his fingers. “You don’t deserve this. Such a good, beautiful woman as you shouldn’t have a scratch.”

You smiled faintly down at him as he slipped your pointe shoe off. He was unbelievably doting, despite what people might say about his coldness. Coryo was completely different behind closed doors. He melted with you. He adored you.

“You’re too good to me.” You murmured softly, Coriolanus scoffed and shook his head as he carefully unwrapped the fabric covering your toes. He could see the deep crimson staining the cloth already, his brow was already pulled taut.

You grimaced at the damage to your feet. Damn. You hadn’t realized it was bleeding until now, looking down at the rubbed-off skin and blisters cracking your toes. Now that the wounds were exposed to the air, they suddenly stung and ached. Coryo was staring down at your foot for a long few moments before rifling through your duffel bag for some baby wipes. He was sure this had happened before, he was sure you would be hesitant to tell him.

“My poor darling..” Coriolanus cooed, successfully finding a wipe and cleaning the blood from your skin. You whimpered at the touch on the raw skin, but when your husband looked up at you as if to ask if he should stop, you gently pushed your fingers through his blonde curls.

“I’m fine.” You assured him, watching as he squeezed some Neosporin onto the opened skin. Coryo was painfully gentle in wrapping up your foot, he cooed sweet words and apologies to you, though it wasn’t his fault.

Coryo was certain you didn’t deserve any of this pain that came with your passion. You were too good for any kind of pain, period. He pressed a gentle kiss to the top of your foot, his lips trailing up to your ankle, the length of your shin, your knee. That last kiss, he let his azure eyes flutter shut, humming lowly against your skin. You couldn’t help smiling down at him, gently scratching and rubbing his scalp. If only he could see himself now, kneeling in front of you, kissing up your legs and practically worshipping you.

“I love you.” Coriolanus murmured, propping his chin on your knee and looking up at you with soft eyes. Well, he was looking up at you like you were a goddess, like you were something to pray to. His eyes twinkled, his expression sincere.

Your smile only widened. You folded at the waist to press a kiss to the crown of Coryo’s hair, whispering, “I love you too.” That brought a fond smile to his lips, a little snort from his nose.

He tossed those devilish slippers into your bag after a long, lingering few moments of staring up at you. “Let’s get you to bed.” Coryo hummed, zipping up the duffel and swinging it over his shoulder as he stood. You moved to stand, opening your mouth to ask for the sandals in your bag, but before you could speak he was scooping you back up into his arms like a princess. You couldn’t help the giggle bubbling from your lips, wrapping an arm around his shoulders.

Coriolanus pressed his lips to your temple as he pushed the door open with his back, carrying you down the hall. He didn’t really care if a servant or an Avox saw you two; he wasn’t doing anything that a loving husband wouldn’t, anyway.

Your pain truly hurt him. Coryo felt an ache in his heart every time you’d complain of stiff joints or blistered feet. He made sure to have ballet slippers created specifically for you, so that you wouldn’t feel such pain again.

You didn’t have to ask; Coriolanus was a husband who jumped to your every need before the words rolled off your tongue.

[theribbajack]

"You were born a slave," said Konahrik. "Do you not wish for freedom?" The sightless eyes of the Falmer gazed straight ahead. "My people learned long ago," said she, "that to wish for the impossible would be too much to bear."

Tried a bit of a fancier style for an upcoming scene from my fic Death and the Maiden.

[letraspal]

“But if no one’s here, then we don’t have to—”

Baz draws back, his eyes wide. “You don’t want to?”

I don’t even know what he’s offering.

“Don’t be stupid. Of course I want to,” I say, like Baz is the mad one here. For once, he doesn’t seem to mind my tone.

Tribute to chapter 4 of Restoration Ecology by @captain-aralias aka one of the finest pieces of fanfiction I’ve ever read.

[little-annie]

Just another @strangerthingswritersguild drabble.

G | WC 635 | Steve, Eddie & Robin

It was a typical Thursday evening in Buckingson home -as previously named by a very inebriated Robin and Eddie. Some random record playing on low, the small space lit by nothing but the orange glow of lamp light and candle flame.

To anyone it would sound like a peaceful night at home.

But not just anyone had Eddie for a live-in boyfriend and Robin for a best friend who also happened to be a roommate. And surely no one had the pair of chaos twins constantly bringing in stray animals to their home.

The first time it'd been a bird, some small feathery thing with a damaged wing that Robin carried into their home with her bare hands and made a nest for out of grass clippings Eddie had gathered in the park. They named the chirpy little thing Squeaker, and by the time it's wing had healed the small animal had been on several road trips and one memorable trip to the grocery store. He'd (?) joined the next migration and now every year since when his flock comes through the city, he'll perch himself on their balcony and chitter until Robin or Eddie come out to say hello.

Then there had been Bambi. A small abandoned fawn Eddie somehow managed to sneak past Steve and into Robin's room where the pair cared for the thing until a wildlife rehabilitation centre could pick it up. Steve didn't find out about that one until he answered the call from the rehab centre offering their update on the creature several weeks later.

There was also Bob the baby Racoon, Dorothy the dumpster cat, Roco the abandoned puppy and now, there was Pumpkin, apparently.

Steve had been in the kitchen slaving away over dinner when he heard the soft click of the front door and the insanely uncharacteristic whispers between Eddie and Robin.

And then there was a meow.

A wretched, croaky thing that sounded as if the newest addition to their home had the same nicotine problem as Eddie.

“Shhhh,” Steve could hear Eddie whisper as he continued to stir the pot of pasta sauce he was making, “Don't want Stevie finding out about you just yet.”

“We gotta bath you first baby,” Robin added.

Steve could only imagine the condition of this animal, let alone the event it would be for Robin and Eddie to bathe it.

But as he had a handful of times before, he pretended he hadn't heard a thing and let the chaotic two carry on.

Just the sound of them attempting to wash the cat was rather comical. Of course there was lots of swearing and one quite loud yelp from Eddie, accompanied by Robin's hushed placating. Funny enough they were still trying to be quiet, but Steve could still hear the murmurs of…

“Are you bleeding?”

“Of course I'm bleeding, Buckley. Did you see the claws on this thing.”

“Did you see the nuts on ‘em?”

“Unfortunately, yes. What the fuck?”

“Should they be that big?”

“I don't know. We'll ask Steve.”

“What do you think happened to his tail?”

“Probably froze off like his ears.”

Jesus Christ.

Twenty minutes, several yowls from the cat, one loud painful sounding yelp from Eddie later, Steve is introduced to Pumpkin.

He's a scraggly looking thing.

One eyed, half tailed and missing the majority of his two ears. The definition of a dumpster cat. Steve's sure the cat stunk before the bath the apparently three before him endured.

Robin and Eddie are soaked head to toe. Bloodied and bandaged. Hair in utter disarray. They look exhausted. But they also look to be just beaming with excitement.

The cat on the other hand, held tightly in Robin's arms looks less than thrilled.

“Steve,” Robin starts, joined by Eddie a moment later, “Sweetheart,”

“Meet Pumpkin.”

[lnfours]

‘everyone wants him that was my crime’ with lando/charles? so excited for ur ask day! ❤️

absolutely, positively sobbing 🥺

jordans snow day ☃️

you knew what you were signing up for that very first date at the cafe in monaco, knew what you were getting yourself into when he showed up with flowers asking you to be his.

it’s not like he kept that part of himself hidden, you knew his profession and how many people longed to be you when photos leaked of the two of you going out to get dinner. even months later, it still shocks you the kind of things people comment on your posts on your social media.

you had made the mistake of scrolling through the comments of a tiktok about you and your boyfriend. the rude comments about the two of you drowning out the ones that supported you. you knew you shouldn’t have looked to begin with, but now you sat with blurry vision as you scrolled.

you normally wouldn’t have let the comments bother you, reminding yourself that at the end of the day, he was coming home to you. but for whatever reason, right now, it felt like you had committed the biggest crime. like you had robbed them of him, even though he didn’t belong to them.

you didn’t hear the door to your bedroom open, jolting at the sound of your boyfriends sweet, soft voice, “baby?”

he had entered the room and immediately froze, spotting the tears rolling down your cheeks. his mind went a mile a minute thinking of the worst possible things that could’ve happened to make you upset. rude comments being the last thing on his mind.

he sat down next to you, taking your face into his hands and gently wiping away the tears, “what’s up, sweetheart?”

you shook your head, “it’s nothing,”

“it’s not nothing if you’re crying,” he said, “you can tell me, it’s alright.”

you sniffled and turned your phone to him, letting him take it from your grip as he read through the comments. the comments talking about you, your looks, your body, your relationship. you bit down on your lower lip as his eyes scanned over the screen.

he locked the phone, tossing it to the side as he pulled you into his warmth, “c’mere,”

you slid into his arms gently, resting your face against his chest as he got comfortable on the bed next to you. he ran through your hair with his fingers, pressing a soft kiss to the crown of your head, “you know i love you, right?”

you nodded, “i know.”

“and that i don’t agree with anything those comments said, you’re beautiful, on the inside and out. you’re my favorite human. you know that, too, right?”

you nodded against his chest again, repeating yourself, “i know.”

“don’t listen to a thing those people say,” he said, “you’re it for me, okay?”

he tilted your chin to look back at him, his eyes meeting yours, “okay?”

you nodded, giving him a soft smile, “okay,”

he pressed a soft kiss to your lips, breaking apart as he pushed hair from your face, “you want me to say something to them?”

you shook your head, “they’re just gonna keep saying these things,” your fingers traced over his beauty marks, “i normally don’t let it get to me, but i don’t know why it hit me this hard today.”

“it’s okay,” he shook his head, “nothing to apologize for. i just want you to know that you’re the one i wanna wake up next to, even if you drool.”

“i don’t drool!” you giggled, calling back to the teasing that took place earlier on in the morning when you woke up. you swatted at him playfully, a grin on his face as your laugh echoed through the bedroom. his second favorite sound you make.

you know the first.

[megala-theia-praxidike]

"I hope she ends up with someone better and lives happier out there "

HA No! I am too far gone with this ship to imagine them with someone else even in the saddest scenarios. I yearn too obsessively for them to be together, even in just their thoughts, in whatever universe they end up in. I want them miserable for each other. Happier for each other. Suffering because of each other. Free with each other. Trap with each other. I want their best and worst fate to be each other. Two souls too intertwined, mangled and ruined for anything else.

[falmerbrook]

Snow Elf culture?

*pulls up a chair*

Perhaps...

A wee disclaimer that I'm not particularly good or creative with developing cultures or societies, but my brain has just latched on to the snow elves in a way where I can't stop myself. But anyway

I developed a lot of this because of a big ass draft for a fic I've been writing on and off about Gelebor and Vyrthur, so a lot of my headcanons are religion heavy. I'll start there:

Gelebor seems to place Auri-El and the Chantry of Auri-El as having significant importance to the Snow Elves over the other gods/temples. He's probably got a bit of bias in that regard since he's devoted his life to Auri-El, but in order to differentiate their religion from the other elven ones I like to think that their religion in general worshipped Auri-El as not even just as the figure head of their pantheon, but almost monotheistical, while the other gods (Trinimac, Syrabane, Jephre and Phynaster according to Gelebor) were like minor divine figures or just legendary heroes even more than in Altmer myth, depending on the interpretation. My idea is that if their culture had been allowed to continue on, it would've eventually become monotheistic, but by the arrival of the Nords they were in a bit of an awkward transition period with it.

I also like to lean into the sun motif with Auri-El that they established in Dawnguard and with Auriel's Bow, partially because it's another thing to make their depiction of him more unique, and in part because it makes some very juicy irony for Vyrthur. Some ideas include:

- The more religious folk tend to pray at noon when the sun is at it's highest. - The two biggest snow elf festivals happen on the summer and winter solstices. As far north as they are, the summer solstice is during a time of year where the sun barely sets and the winter one is during a time of year where it barely rises. The summer one is more jovial and celebratory, with a grand feast. With almost 24 hours of daylight, the festivities last up to three days straight, with folks commonly staying awake for over 24 hours. Most of it is spent outside, with the celebration being focused on making the most of the weather and daylight hours to spend as much time in the sun and the light of Auri-El as possible. The winter festival is as large scale but lasts longer and is lower-key. It also involves a feast but features more winter foods and meat and alcohol. It is more pensive. At this point in the year, there is no full daylight, and so this season is seen as a test of one’s faith and mental fortitude. This festival acts as a break from this trying time, taking time to relax, build community (a strong community will allow them to make it through the winter and strengthen their minds), and bond with family and friends. It is about a weeklong break, where leading up to the festival everyone works harder to prepare for it and allow themselves to have the break. There are activities and festivities, but they remain indoors for the most part and are smaller. - I've referenced this before, but with long winters with little sunlight (due to harsh weather and short days), they see that time of year as a reflective test of will and faith.

Due to their proximity to dragons, it was hard to miss the connection between Auri-El (/Akatosh) and dragons, and so their depiction of Auri-El is either much more influenced by the iconography of dragons, or is a dragon (although their depiction of dragon Auri-El is much more benevolent than the Nord/Atmoran one). I got the idea for this one from this Reddit post (i know I dog on Reddit a lot but this one has got some fun stuff in it, even if it's a bit out there)

^On that note, later in the timeline (post Dragon War (the timeline is very fuzzy on when this and the Night of Tear happens. They are both sometime vaguely in the late Merethic Era I believe, but it's unclear which happens first or how long each conflict is)) some Snow Elves see a sort of unreturned, unofficial comradery with dragons, seeing themselves as both on the receiving end of the Nord's/Atmoran's brutality (disregarding whether it was warranted or not in the context of the Dragon War).

Ok here's some more general cultural ones:

I mentioned my reasoning for this in this post, but I like to think their general settlements were not as permanent, with a larger focus on wood and building into the sides of hills (good for warmth), while their temples tended to be made of stone and much more permanent. This is why there are so few identifiable Snow Elf ruins across Skyrim. Their cities and towns were easy to wipe out, scavenged for resources, or were in good places for Nordic cities (perhaps Bromjunaar was originally the site of a Snow Elf city?), and their temples were either very hidden (e.g. the Chantry of Auri-El) or eventually converted to Nordic temples.

I love this journal in general for gleaning ideas for Snow Elf headcanons for, but one interesting this is the use of "Old Ones" and "Young One". They're treated like established titles. From that I like to think they place a lot of emphasis on the respect of those older than you. The social hierarchy and whose opinions are most valued is heavily influenced by age. Folks call anyone older or more revered “Old Ones” as a term of respect, and anyone younger than them “Young Ones”. Old One is almost never used in a demeaning way, but Young One can be (not always). Typically, “Old Ones” is used in the third person (e.g. you wouldn’t refer to someone directly as “old one”) whole “Young One(s)” can be used as an epithet for someone directly or in third person.

When thinking about death/"burial" customs (needed for some scenes in the fic I'm planning), you have to consider that there probably wasn't a lot of land in a place like Skyrim where someone can be buried. Nords intern their dead in crypts or burn them to get around this, and I like to think Snow Elves participated in something akin to sky burials (at least sometimes). After preparation, the departed's body is left outside on a ledge, cliff, or the temple balcony to be scavenged by birds. This is seen as a metaphorical return to Aetherius, while their soul literally returns to it. They do this even in poor weather or deep winter. If it doesn’t thaw and rot/be scavenged until months later, so be it. The length it takes to rot is considered indicative of how long it takes for the spirit to let go and move on (not in a bad way though. It’s interpreted more in the way of the soul or body grieving). It's seen as if they may wish to wait until spring to finally rot if they want to experience one more warm, sunny day.

Food (I mostly wrote this in my notes in the context of the Forgotten Vale and Chantry of Auri-El, but I think it could work elsewhere as well to an extent): Plant-based food is grown in gardens in the spring and summer, and that that is able to be stored is carefully preserved through the fall and winter. Winter foods include some nuts, dried vegetables, and dried and preserved/fermented grains (like wheat, barely). These foods must be eaten slowly throughout the winter to last, and winter diets are more meat based. Summer foods include apples, cabbage/lettuce, leeks, tomatoes etc. Snowberries can be found in the wild out of season of most other fruits, and provide fruit in very early spring. Occasionally, fungus from caves is harvested, but this is seen as a delicacy (foreshadowing).

Ok, that's it for now. I gotta go to bed. Thanks for the ask!!!! :D

[i-ran-into-a-lampost]

Save the Last Dance you will always be famous

I read those goddamn 'One of Ben's necrofriggian kids return' fics and now I think about them everyday help.

[cccloudsss]

my hope for more snowbaz content lives on, albeit delusionally

[itrhymeswith-freak]

💥💥💥💥💥

i mostly do sketches so its not much but it was fun to draw hehe ramblings and pose/base cred under the cut :3cc

drawn over this image cuz i am nawt good at posing lol

OK RAMBLINGS ABT MY MODERN DAY THRAMSAYS

- all of theons piercing were done at home by ramsay, theon isnt the biggest fan of them but ramsay likes to see theon in pain thinks they're pretty - ramsays piercings on the other hand are proffesionally done and he makes sure to take good care of them - theons bracelet was a gift from ramsay and he makes him wear it all the time in lieu of a collar - RAMSAY PICKS OUT THEONS CLOTHES, mostly ramsays own old worn down stuff theon hasn't seen his own clothes in months - ramsay drew the logo for his shirt himself and ordered it on one of those make ur own tshirt websites

also this meme was plaguing my mind the whole time i drew this so here you go

[stevesbipanic]

@steddiemas Day 13: Snow Day

Steve was so cozy, so warm and toasty. Sleep was pulling him back under when his evil, cruel and mean boyfriend decided to jump on him!

"Edward fucking Munson, what the fuck."

"Stevie, my sweet love, I wish fucking was my middle name, but get up, it's snowing!"

Ok, maybe his boyfriend was actually very cute and adorable and could be forgiven for rudely waking him up barely past 6. Both the boys had been waiting for today, sharing an enthusiasm for the frozen crystal delights.

Snow days had been a favourite of Eddie's growing up; there was no school, and everyone wanted to play, even with the freak. Wayne had built him a sled his first winter with him, and he fondly remembered spending hours going down the hill behind the trailer park.

Steve's memories of snow days weren't so happy. Snow days meant being stuck at home with his parents if they were around, and his mother never let him play in the snow, not wanting him to come in wet. His first real snow day had been with Robin the previous year, who goaded him into ambushing the kids into a snowball fight.

A winter coat pulled over their pyjamas, the boys huddled outside and watched the first few flecks of white fall down around them. The cold air was already reddening their cheeks, and the snowflakes littered their hair, but it was perfect.

"Thanks for waking me, Eds."

Eddie's fingers tightened around Steve's as he smiled at him, "No one I'd rather share it with, sweetheart."

Ao3

[littledancer9]

It’s Always Yes with you

A Collab with & Moodboards by @axdragons

For @snowxstormworld Jonerys Summer Lovin’ 24

Summary: Jon surprises Dany with a long weekend getaway at his family's cabin in The Riverlands. No cell service. No WiFi. Beautiful river views. Just the two of them and the chance to go down memory lane playing games spurred on by one of their favorite games from college: The Jar.

If only Dany liked camping.

Confessions, naughty dares, and silly games ensue as they shed the inhibitions of daily life.

Read now on AO3!

[dio-icarticaae]

Currently writing a Superfam snow day fic and an offhand line about driving got me thinking:

Kansans have negative winter/icy roads driving skills. They are TERRIBLE at it. I say this as someone who has Kansas relatives, but does not live there.

So picture Clark, in Metropolis, after experiencing his first major snowstorm. He has to drive for some reason (picking Lois up from somewhere). Lois actually knows how to drive on winter/icy roads. She is horrified. She makes Clark pull over so that she can drive instead because "Really, Smalville, were you trying to get in an accident?"

Lois then insists on teaching Clark how to drive on winter roads so he's no longer a road hazard during winter. Bruce gets to help/be the mock driver's examiner after Lois calls him to complain about their boyfriend's lack of driving skills (because I think this works best as Cloisbat)

Bruce: Clark, why did Lois call me and say we had to teach you to drive before you killed us?

Clark: You're both terrible drivers and she's exaggerating. I can drive perfectly safely on ice!

Bruce: So what did you do?

Clark: I stopped before driving up a hill. It's slippery!

Bruce: You what?!?!

Clark: It's slippery!

Bruce: *going through the five stages of grief about how Clark is going to end up in a car accident*

And then Lois and Bruce teach Clark how to drive in winter conditions and despair when he says that everyone drives like this.

[kaelatargaryen]

Ok girlies, who are you sending this to for Valentine’s 😏💦

& who wants to turn it into a fic 👀👀👀