#let it snow! let it snow

[maureen2musings]

@javi_salas23

[watchingwisteria]

listen there really was just something about how in the book, snow’s 3-page descent from hesitant lover boy to deluded mfer happens entirely in his mind. lucy gray gives him no indication whatsoever that she suspects him, that she’s going to leave or betray him. he’s just sitting quietly in the cabin waiting for her to return when that seed of calculated suspicion, which he has needed to survive the capitol, takes a hold of him and chokes the life out of any goodness left inside him. it really drives home your terror as a reader that “oh my god did he kill her? did she escape? what happened to her? why would he even think that?” in a way that when the movie had to adjust for visualization it lost some of that holy shit this guy has lost it emphasis.

[actually-mentally-ill]

sorry, did you say,

“toxic, dangerous, sexy af and could probably kill me at any given moment if they wanted”?

…

[happyheidi]

｡ﾟﾟ･｡･ﾟﾟ｡ ﾟ. November will bring blessings.

ﾟ･｡･ﾟ

[keferon]

Snow bots au anyone? :D

They're back together a year later because it's snowing again❄️

All right! For context: I imagine them hanging out every winter in some kind of resort (a resort that Blurr owns. Because his bar business has expanded that much over time.)

[xyl4-4444]

Dumping these doodles bcus Twilight Forest is STILL a GOATED Minecraft mod

[queen-paladin]

I love you "boring" female characters. I love you ingenues. I love you female characters who aren't "modern" enough. I love you female characters who aren't "badass" enough. iI love you female characters who aren't "empowering" enough. I love you quiet female characters. I love you unappreciated female characters. I love you polite female characters. I love you female characters who "can't appeal to modern audiences." I love you frightened female characters. I love you female characters labeled as not complex just for being nice. I love you female characters who get criticism just for not being their tomboy or femme fatale counterpart. I love you silk hiding steel trope.

[seventh-district]

Making Incorrect H:SR Quotes Until I Run Out of (hopefully) Original Ideas - Pt. 6

[Pt. 1] [Pt. 2] [Pt. 3] [Pt. 4] [Pt. 5]

[somerandomcockroach]

SNOW BOTS ARE BACK BABE, IF IT WILL BE LIKE THAT EVERY YEAR I MIGHT DIE ONE DAY OF HAPPINESS WHEEEZE (I mean, drawing them like that is so much faster, plus colors, plus snow, plus they all are alive, COME ON IT'S A DREAM) Go smooch @keferon and everyone who makes "everyone is happy" content wheeeeeze

[frownyalfred]

the rumblings about the Batman 2 setting reminded me of how cool a snowed-in Gotham would be for a fic or movie setting. power/electricity grid is either out or about to fail. people are trapped in their homes and apartments by ten and fifteen foot drifts, with more snow inbound. the city breaks down within hours, as people abandon their jobs (cough, Arkham) and try to escape the city.

The Bat enters a new version of a familiar playground, an iced over city where cars can’t drive, grapple lines don’t catch, and frostbite sets in within minutes of exposing skin. How do you protect your city? The vulnerable freezing to death? How do you connect aid stations and Good Samaritans to the people who need help when Gotham’s criminal underbelly has decided now is the time to fight back?

[maureen2musings]

aaronburden

[gobackbodies]

started the asoiaf series. why were jon and tyrion literally in the trauma olympics

[actually-mentally-ill]

“I can fix him!”

Him:

[dipperscavern]

can I be cheeky and ask for riding jon’s face 🫣🫣🫣

yes… oh yes you absolutely can….. i fell asleep last night to the thought of jon snow canonically being a munch (funny enough) — we’re on the same wavelength anon ! (written w shy!reader in mind)

you’ve heard the talk, heard the different ladies from different statures talk about “the act”, and it’s always a different answer. some say it’s mediocre… others, that it’s their favorite way to feel good, and some, say it’s terrible. you’ve heard stories of men never caring about the woman’s pleasure, and how their only purpose was to give them children. the thought made you shudder.

you, yourself, have never had time. time to freely choose who you trust enough to share that sacred experience with (or even touch yourself). the men at castle black are sworn to celibacy, and even if they would abandon their oath for a night with you, you wouldn’t let them. most of the men at the wall are untrustworthy, and you want more than just a quick fuck. even if these thoughts plague you, you’re too busy with your duties to worry about it. a thing you’ve since long accepted.

until jon snow.

you had been there for jon since his arrival at castle black. never batting an eye at his surname, always trying to make his life a little bit easier. there was also the stolen glances, the soft touches you both passed off as “accidental”, the longing for each other. you both remained as merely “close friends”, until things boiled over and you found solace in each others lips. it didn’t go farther than that, the tentative kiss being soft & exploring, and that was okay with you. you didn’t expect more. until you got more.

sometimes, you hate jon for being so easy to talk to. your shy nature has slowly melted away in his presence, and you find yourself unable to be embarrassed about the questions you ask or answer. your late night talks are what keeps jon sane. he wants to know everything about you, and you both would talk till morning if you could (you have before). the topic often shifts, landing on anything and everything on the planet. even “the act”.

imagine jon’s surprise, when the most beautiful & endearing woman he’s ever met drops her gaze to the floor and bashfully tells him she’s never cum before.

jon short circuits. he asks if you want to. he asks if he can make you. and you say yes.

jon snow is a giver. tasting a woman is a pleasure in itself, and he’d tell you as much if you asked. his mind ran a million miles an hour, thinking about all the ways he could make you feel good. it doesn’t take long before the desire to taste you takes a hold of him, and so he does.

“You’re hovering.”

he’s not wrong. you are. you thought you had heard it all, but the act of sitting on someone’s face has clearly alluded your ears. you’re unsure. you don’t want to hurt him.. suffocating the first man you lay with would have you begging the gods to open the ground and swallow you whole. and it’s not just any man, it’s jon.

the soft glide of jon’s fingers across your thigh bring you out of your head. his hands are cold. they feel nice in contrast to your own skin, nerves lit on fire.

“I don’t want to hurt you…”

“You won’t.”

“Jon-”

“Do you trust me?”

he’s steadfast in his reassurance. his thumb has been rubbing circles in your hip while you both have been talking. does he do it all on purpose, or is he just this naturally desirable?

“You know I do, but-“

“Good. Sit.”

you still hesitate, and that’s when jon takes matters into his own hands. his hands stop their tracing, and instead grip your thighs, bringing you down himself.

whatever expectations you had are exceeded tenfold. jon eats you out like a man starved. your head spins with the way you can feel his tongue, exploring you and swiping over your clit. it has white hot pleasure shooting up your spine, and your thighs quiver ever so slightly, but jon’s firm grip keeps you in place. he’s confident in his movements, precise and sure in a way that makes you see stars.

jon thinks he’s found the place where he would be content to meet his demise. you taste so good, and the pretty sounds you’re making have blood rushing straight to his cock. jon has always loved the sound of his name on your lips — whether it be small acknowledgments in passing by, or just mentions in mere conversation. but he’s found he much prefers hearing you moan it.

you’re almost embarrassed how quickly he has warmth building up in your belly, pressure building as he gives you the most pleasure you’ve ever had. he’s giving and giving and giving, and you find yourself selfishly taking all of it. he doesn’t slow down, keeping a steady rhythm that makes the cord in your stomach wind impossibly tighter.

“Jon, I’m-!”

you don’t get to finish your sentence, interrupted by the snap of the cord in your stomach that was previously tightening. pleasure overtakes your nerves, flooding your veins and momentarily removing your ability to speak (or think). jon’s tongue doesn’t stop fully, only slowing down to help you ride out your peak.

you catch your breath, feeling jon kiss the inside of your thighs as small aftershocks have you clenching around nothing. you find yourself seeking his touch (as if he hasn’t been constantly on you), your hand running along the surface of your thigh to find his own. he reaches for you, trapping your own smaller hand beneath his own. it’s reassuring, grounding you back to the present after he brought you so far over the edge.

you move to get off, to let him get up & breathe — but he doesn’t release his grip, keeping you in place. you hear him speak.

“Only once?”

[cherylblossom]

He was glad about the erasure. It was just one more way to eliminate Lucy Gray from the world. The Capitol would forget her, the districts barely knew her, and District 12 had never accepted her as one of their own. In a few years, there would be a vague memory that a girl had once sung in the arena. And then that would be forgotten too. Goodbye, Lucy Gray, we hardly knew you.

[pinetreevillain]

Another commission! The greatest pleasure one could ever recieve it the one where I can be paid to draw my Boys

I’m dreaming of a white christmas sigh