#its hot cocoa season

[kvtnisseverdeen]

[tizzymcwizzy]

MERRY CHRISTMAS!!! i have another marichat holiday themed piece for y'all :D (imagine this is stuffed in ur stocking or smth (along with some tiny candy canes))

[lynxindisguise]

stats aren't important bla bla bla yes but does anyone else like pitting their fics against each other like they're in an incredibly slow horse race?

[solciego]

We are like hot cocoa and marshmallows, you're hot and I want to be on top of you

[rustystars]

the problem is well . i AM already excited for christmas

[ducknotinarow]

2012 Savage Chompy - [☕] our muses make hot chocolate together

| SEND AN EMOJI FOR A STARTER ! ↳ winter season & holiday based

Chompy was lost to his own little world, where he was up in space flying through all the stars that he understood were in the dark space over their home. Drawing himself with a helmet on flying through the stars. Tail wagged from behind him as the TV was playing some cartoon the little turtle had long become to absorb in his own world instead as he reached for a new crayon to start filling in his stars. It was another one of those times were Dad was away from home. Chompy always missed when he left, it wasn't as fun with out Dad being home. Home also felt a bit lonely with out him around, he was loud and Chompy liked that, he also was fun and played all kinds of games. It was always funny when he got papa to frown sometimes, but Chompy liked it most when they snuggled and kissed each other. But Dad wasn't here to do that. Or to tell Chompy how great an artist he was. He'll just have to show that to Dad later on- Oh the phone! The pinkish turtle suddenly sat up looking around, he wasn't all to familiar with time yet. In terms of numbers and such he mostly based it off the sky color outside or whatever was airing on TV. It was a older kid show. Meaning it was about time to call Dad! Chompy looked down to his drawing, it needed more coloring but it should still be enough to impress Dad. Moving to up on to his feet as he held the sheet of paper tight in his claws, he looked around for Papa's phone eyeing it on the couch. He tapped it to turn on and see the clock. Chompy only knew a few of the numbered times. When it was time for bed, because that wasn't a fun time. And when it was time to call Dad. Chompy hummed because the numbers weren't close yet, Papa told him the first number have to be an 8, it was a 7 still. But 8 was next! So that was all he needed to know. As he made his way to the kitchen.

"Papa! Dad time!" Chompy manged to voice between the chirps and gruggles of his usual way of speaking it was getting much more clear with Papa working with him on his talking. Though as he bound around the corner he paused before speaking up again. The sight was nothing new. Papa had the grumpy expression on and arms crossed, giving a hard stare. Really only time Papa looked like that was when they weren't well behaving. Pink eyes shifted over to his older brother Savage matching their Papa's gaze and arms crossed himself. Chompy slightly stepped back looking down to the phone. He had be excused from the table awhile ago cause he cleared his whole plate off. But Savage? Peeking around once more once seeing neither had noticed him from before as he looked to his older brother. Savage well he had a bad habit of not liking anything other than his favorite food. So him and Pap sticking around the kitchen like so when Dad wasn't home was normal. Well Savage acting up more because Dad wasn't around was normal over all not just for meals. Chompy wasn't all to sure what to do but luckily Dad came to rescue. Sort off, as papa's phone sounded off suddenly. Screen lit up to show a photo of the four of them together.

Seemed to draw Raph from where he was as he was now looking down down at Chompy, Raph simply thanking them for getting his phone saying he'll be right back with it so the boys could talk to their Dad. Unaware that Raph was going to explain Savage wasn't eating and he might need Casey to tell him to please eat. Not that Casey ever did, far more likely the one to cave and let them get away with eating lettuce over their proper meals. Chompy peeked back into the kitchen though looking at his brother. He seemed sad.

Brow knitted up in thought for a moment before an idea popped up into his head he ran into the kitchen and carefully sat his drawing on the table next to his older brother. Well aware they would keep it safe for him before he grabbed a chair from the table and pushed it to the counter. Slightly ignoring his brother in the moment as he climbed up to stand on the seat he was still a bit out of reach from the where they kept the cups, huffing he climbed up on to the counter next and got to where he needed. Looking up most the mugs were on the second shelf. This wasn't gonna be easy, there was one on the bottom it seemed. As he started reaching for it knocking plastic cups over and sending some to tumble out from the cupboard to roll out on to the counter and land up on the floor. His rucks did seem to finally draw attention his way. Chompy setting down the mug he was able to grab with out cause much of a mess, it was one of Dad's it had hockey sticks on it and number. With Jones on it like the jersey Dad wore on TV, it seemed like the perfect cup to use! So he gently set it down and looked around the box of hot chocolate was on the top of the microwave so that would be easier to get. Go about it he finally answers his brother.

"You don' look happy." He simply states as he sets the cup on the seat of the chair and moves to jump on the floor pushing it to the corner of the kitchen. Getting back up as he grabs for what he needs, riping a packet open and dumping the contents out most found it's way on to the floor and seat of the chair leaving very little in the cup. No worry Chompy figured as he repeated the action with a few more getting a nice pile in the cup after a bit. Not to mention everywhere else. only to now see he needs to go back to the fridge to fill the cup milk always make it better than water. Water was easier but nope his brother needed the best. He huffs in slight annoyance here. But once more the mug with the powered mix is set to the seat of the chair. And Chompy making his way to the floor grabbing the cup and hopping down to the fridge "And grandpa always fixes 'hat with this, so I grab Dad's cup cause I think it make it better." Chompy explains.

Mug placed on the floor, and door opened up as he grabs for the carton of milk. Chompy tries his best to carefully pour it into the mug but a bit does mange to land on the floor. It was least full. As he set the milk back and closed the door. Sitting on the floor so he can stir the spoon around inside the cup. "So, i'm gonna do that" the younger turtle states as a simple fact. "Cause you look out for me so imma look out for you." He sits up seeing now hes gonna have to go all the way back to the chair and climb with the cup to warm it up. Till recalling he doesn't need to cupping his hands around his mouth he blows out some fire towards the cup watch it slowly bubble up. "done!" he claims happily grabbing it again as he walks the mug over to his brother, reaching up to set it on the edge for them to take as he smiles up at them feeling beyond proud of himself in that moment. Chompy knows his brother isn't bad he just acts up sometimes because he misses having Dad around. And sadly that means Papa has to deal with Savage when he dose which isn't always easy. But, that didn't mean much of anything least Chompy didn't believe it did. Home just wasn't fully home without Dad around. But, that just meant Chompy needed to help.

Even if the current state of the kitchen might imply otherwise, as Raphael finally returned to the kitchen. Raph just stood and looked to the mess in the kitchen he was in truth ready to lose it, sometimes his old temper still flared like when he was a teen. Looking at the cups scattered around the floor and counter, the brown powered mess across the floor. The milk puddle left on the floor it had only been five minutes but no one like Raph knew how much could happen when you turned your shell on two young turtle mutants in five minutes. But then his eyes land on to the sight of his sons, Chompy made his way into a new seat showing off his drawing to his older brother, the mug on the table seeming to answer what happened there. And he smiled softly to himself, before lifting the phone up to let Casey see their boys together. Raph might just give up the fight tonight.

[mechahero]

He's got hot cocoa. All's good.

[nouearth]

once upon an eggnog.

clark kent x male reader.

summary: there's nothing better than physical touch to sober reader up after a christmas party.

wc: 1.1k. warnings: fluff, holiday!season, drunk!reader, maws!clark, worried!clark, co-worker!au, reader doesn't know clark is superman, non-descriptive mention of reader throwing up, clark has very warm hands and is a simp because he wants to make reader happy.

a/n: aaaaa, hiya! it's been a long time since i've written anything, but i'm finally on break and i thought a nice fluffy fic would help me warm up to writing again! i was going to do one of my requests, but they were all smut LOL, and i know i cannot do smut after such a long break. i need to warm up, so apologies if this is rusty! happy holidays and i'll be writing more!!

The groan you let out was feeble. Your shadow trailed behind your sluggish steps as you foraged through neighboring street lights, gravel and pavement, for a stake of its emanating warmth.

“Hey—“ A voice called out from behind you, the blanket of snowflakes and cold dulling the panic in the man’s voice. You rested your body against the lamppost, finding the warmth to be exemplary over your frosted cheeks, but unbearable for your insides.

You let out a deep sigh. The longer you stood under the light, sweat droplets began to frame your face, followed by an overwhelming urge to cleanse your body from the inside out.

“I don’t feel…” You slurred in your speech, holding your stomach as you craned over until you slid onto your bottom, head exposed to the light as you faced the comforting snow.

“Wait up!” He called out to you several more times in midst of his trudge, his panting audibly close. 

You began grumbling incoherent sounds in response as you clumsily whipped off your coat. Your mind was frosted like the windows on the cars lined down the street as you drew in the cold air with a greed to pacify the strange feeling in your stomach. 

“(M/N), keep that on!”

“What are you…?! My mom—“ The constant shifting and turning of your body, all in an attempt to strip yourself of the restrictive wool of your vest and reindeer sweater, churned the bottom of your stomach until it was mush. 

Absolute.

Mush. 

It was funny how the human body worked because even in your drunken state, your natural instinct to find the nearest public trash can surfed through the flood of eggnog and booze, and you immediately emptied the toxins out of your body with several strong hurls. 

“Geez, I told you not to run off…” A messenger bag and a familiar coat dropped near your foot, and the man did not spare a single second to come to your aid. “And also not to drink that much...” He rubbed your back in slow and soothing circles, then in vertical swipes as you coughed out the remaining poison. The strong bass pulsating into his palm as a special way of saying ‘thank you.’

“Clark, it was just a sip—“

“You had six cups….” Clark confessed and your immediate frown was telling in whether you were an innocent bystander, or the reason why the office was running low on drinks. Rummaging through his pockets, he then offered a handful of crumbled napkins that he took from the party.

“The last two didn’t count.” You slurred again, slowly regaining your strength as you stabilized yourself over the rim of the garbage can before wiping your mouth with the napkin. “I needed a drink with my food—“

“You barely touched your plate—“ He cut himself off as soon as he caught you staring at him, the eggnog stupefying you into a dazed state in which crickets and holiday festivities replaced coherent thoughts. 

“We gotta get you home. It’s freezing.” He said, and you swayed in place as if you were a palm tree basking in the summer breeze. Or maybe like a giant marshmallow floating yet sinking in the warmth of hot cocoa.

Clark tried his best to fight the smile that was creeping upon him as he tidied your outerwear for the fourth time tonight, shielding you from the dusting of cold when he layered you with your coat.

His jaw clenched while he chewed back an adoration for your nearly frost-bitten visage, stalling the fixing of your reindeer headband to be closer to you a little while longer.

Though he couldn’t tell whether the deep flush of your skin was caused by the weather or the booze, it didn’t matter in the end because the winter of your skin magnetized a bravery in Clark that stilled you in place. Warmth sprouted over your cheeks like an approaching spring, and you closed your eyes peacefully.

Clark had put his bare hands over your cheeks, cupping them like a delicate bowl of snowflakes until they melted into his skin, until all he could feel was you and your equally delicate skin.

“Better?” Hesitantly, his thumbs followed the trail of your dark circles. It was something you’d always complain about yet ironically, your evident lack of sleep ranked high on his ‘favorite things about you’ list.

“Mhm. If only your hands were a little warmer.” You sighed again, the snowing melting into your hair and skin battling Clark’s warmth.

“Hm…” Clark held your cheeks closer, deepening his palms into you, and he closed his eyes, silently channeling his energy into his affectionate hold over you.

Maybe it was the booze playing tricks on you, or perhaps it was your body shutting down for the night, but you physically felt his hands heat up, warmer than his previous offer. Nonetheless, you gave him a nod of approval, and despite drowsiness approaching, your eyes opened bright to thank him with a smile.

“I’m guessing that’s why you don’t wear gloves?”

“Uh…” Clark laughed, an anxiousness you could point out, but you couldn’t exactly trust your judgement in your current state. “I guess you could say that’s why.”

“Well,” You said before a yawn slurred your speech even more, feeling the muscles in your body losing its strength by the second. “Remind me when you’re nearby so I can use you as a…”

“As a..?” There was a slight push to his palms, a strange sudden heaviness before Clark realized you were gradually leaning forward. “(M/N)—“ 

Gravity pulled your eyelids down, then your body forward, a striking contrast to the graceful dance of snow that dusted the ground. “As…”

And you completely slumped into Clark’s arms. Thankfully, his reflexes were quick to catch you before you could even feel the slightest breeze.

“Let’s get you home…” He smile mirrored the gentle frame of your body as you sunk into him. 

And he held you close, accompanying your deep slumber with a warmth that surrounded and protected your body like a string of Christmas lights weaved through pine needles and tree branches.

A warmth that campaigned against the icier gale, the ego of a higher altitude, during Clark’s flight to take you back home.

And a warmth that was victorious when Clark tucked you into bed, a measly makeshift of comfort and peace you thought during your stir of sleep.

Because Clark’s warmth was a newfound establishment from this night onwards.

nouearth. please do not repost, plagiarize, or translate my works. and if you like this story, please reblog and leave a like!

[freyito]

can you write something on how the Lin Keui trio would react to their s/o who can't handle the cold as well as them?

tis the season or something guys! but it's been snowing for two days and guyys oh my GOD i love the snow so much. i love christmas season so much, actually. im like emo or something but i dont care i love christmas season !!! its funny cause i dont celebrate christmas LMFAO. I ACTUALLY HAVE SOMETHING PLANNED OUT SO JUST YOU WAIT!!! also given the release of the new season i think i am riiiiiight on time, readers.

cw: gn reader, just fluff, not proofread

ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴄᴏʟᴅ ᴡ/ ᴛʜᴇ ʟɪɴ ᴋᴜᴇɪ ᴛʀɪᴏ

Bi-Han...

takes note of your shivering right away. He scoffs a little, then wraps an arm around you. It'd be cute! IF IT HELPED.

He's fucking FREEZING. It takes him a moment to remember that he's naturally cold.

After that, he apologizes quickly, and wastes no time getting you a jacket. And some blankets. A lot of blankets, actually. He gets you some scalding hot tea, too. Let it cool down a bit. Please.

Bi-Han's only a little bit prickly about the fact that you're a bit more susceptible to the cold. Considering he's a CRYOmancer, the cold is like a lifestyle for him. But he forgives you.

Aside from a little panting though, he actually cuddles up to you. If you two are in private and he knows no one will interrupt you two. He finds it hard to swallow his pride. But he won't let you freeze.

Kuai Liang...

is already glued to your side. So it's pretty hard to be cold around him. He's like a walking space heater. And it can only get better.

He'll pull you in close, reaaaal close, and just keep you there. Cling to him, he begs. Seriously. There's no need for jackets or blankets with him. Maybe some tea.

He'll even gradually increase the temperature around you two, like a testament to his love. He actually gets kinda defensive if you still need gloves or something.

Speaking of gloves, Kuai Liang LOVES holding your hands in his hands. Not just like holding hands, but cupping his hands around yours.

Anywhere, he's holding you close to keep you warm. Show you off a little, while he's at it. He especially loves it when your clinging to his arm.

Tomas Vrbada...

actually worries himself sick over you. So when he catches you shivering, even if it's just for a second, he's already all over you.

He's got a surprisingly warm body temperature! Unfortunately he cannot heat up anymore, so he's got like a whole checklist on what to get you. Especially on particularly cold days.

Blankets first. He actually kinda forces you inside. But for good reason. He's got like 17 different blankets picked out for you. He's also got some hot cocoa for you, as well.

And if you don't want to stay inside? He has you put on some gloves. Shoves two more pairs in your coat's pocket as well. Like he makes sure you have more than enough layers.

But Tomas does it all out of love! He's kind of a worrywart over you, he can't help but be protective over... literally everything!

Rest assured, you won't be cold around him. Like he really doesn't want you to be. Any little slip, a soft chatter of your teeth, and he's freaking out!!!

© freyito, 2024 | masterlist | queue | kofi DO NOT REPOST AS YOUR OWN OR USE FOR AI/AI CHATBOTS.

[siriusly-the-best-bi]

wow so I have like 3 analysis in progress that touch on this topic but I really need to just talk about it rn with its own spotlight.

Aziraphale has this entire life that he's built for himself on earth, after armageddon he's thriving. When we catch up with him in Season 2 his first scene is literally him going to check in with one of his tenants, and throughout the season we see that he has a decent relationship with nearly Everyone on the block. He has an entire life for himself all hashed out and pretty.

Crowley... does not. His cold open in Season 2 is back in St. James park, checking in with Shax, finding out the gossip on Hell. He doesn't have his apartment, he only has his Bentley and the few plants he could fit in it. He doesn't have any other human friendships. His entire life and everything he loves to do is built entirely around Aziraphale.

This is something that I just find so fucking thrilling because when it comes to their characters and where exactly they are in their arcs right now, it's essentially like looking into a mirror.

Aziraphale knows exactly who he is when he's on his own. He nurtures his own relationships with humans he sees often, he's a nice landlord, he loves books and classical music, and hot cocoa. But, Aziraphale still holds onto the ideals of heaven. He still cares about doing good and being forgiving. He still cowers and jumps at the opportunity to help heaven, not because he wants to but because he's supposed to because he's still an angel.

Crowley has nothing. He has his car, which he drives to a secluded location to park every night, only to drive it right back in the morning. He's only even vaguely recognizable because people associate him with Aziraphale and this is fine for him, he could care less. He doesn't really need to know who he is or process his traumas, why would he when he can put all his attention and focus and love and care directly into Aziraphale? His friend, who has always been his friend, the one person who has always stood by him. Who cares about heaven and hell, he has Aziraphale.

When we finally see them on their own and without the influences of their head offices, we see the opposite of what we'd expect, and nearly the opposite of the outcome we see in episode 6. Crowley is the one constantly checking in with Hell (wether he likes it or not), and Aziraphale is the one who's living care free without even thinking about heaven. When he does something good that he wants to report, he just calls Crowley.

this whole dance of Crowley not knowing who he is without Aziraphale and Aziraphale knowing who he is fundamentally but not knowing how to break free from the confines of Heaven that stop him from truly embracing Crowley in the end, it's just so delicious.

[calummss]

Do You Get Déjà Vu | Thomas Shelby

masterlist

summary: thomas doesn’t come to pick up his daughter. you decide to take her home only to find a man of a table with a bullet in his chest and a lot of deja vu

pairing: fem! reader x thomas shelby

words: 1.6k

a/n: just fluff and comedy tbh… not my usual angst i promise also, this takes place in 1919 because season 1 tommy has my heart. helena is around 9/10 years :)

How you disliked summer. Sweat pearls dripping simply sitting and breathing. Delicate fabric sticking to you like a bee and its honey. It was simply too hot for a woman to be wearing layers of modest clothing but here you were, sitting in front of your desk; no countertop in sight, too many different documents sprawled across the surface, each waiting on your eyes and conscious to scan it and then evaluate whatever category it fell into.

‘Miss Verys?’ Katie’s voice pulled you out of your slump, yet your heart skipped a beat when you saw her come closer with an arm full of newer papers that acquired your attention.

‘Please tell me you are joking…’

‘I fear not, Miss,’ she pressed her lips together as she placed them onto the right corner, the surface area with less than ten documents. ‘But these are all for the week.’ She smiled.

‘Finally some good fucking news,’ you huffed, ‘Sorry,’ you tilted your head when you realised Katie was taken aback by your choice of words.

‘Also I don’t wish to add more to your plate but Helena is still present. It seems Mr. Shelby has yet to pick her up. Do you want me to stay and wait with her?’

‘Katie you are truly an angel, really, I am so grateful but you are being paid to work on from eight to three, I couldn’t let you do that. Legally and from my heart.’ You curled your lips, fingers rubbing against the sheet of paper you were waiting to flip. ‘Just tell Helena to pack her things and to come to my office. Since I will be busy reading through all of these I might end up staying for quite a while.’

‘Of course. And thank you, Miss Verys, have a good day.’

‘You too.’

Katie left and you were stuck in front of an ocean of paper. If you had known that directing a school was so strenuous you might’ve thought about inaugurating a school twice. But it was a lovely institute. A school for girls with the most brightest and innovative minds, no runner up to men but competition with finest ideas.

Momentarily Helena came through the door and patiently stood at the door frame, her bag in her grip.

‘Hello Helena,’ you smiled at her. ‘Your father is not here yet?’

‘No.’

‘That’s okay, just wait here with me. I have much work and since we’re the only ones here I thought company would be nice, no? Sit,’ you pointed to the chair, Helena still standing at the entrance barely having moved.

Helena hummed in response.

‘So,’ you grabbed one of your quills to start signing documents that needed your signature. ‘What do you like to do when you’re not at school or doing homework? I am pretty sure you like horse riding?’

‘I do.’

‘Something else perhaps?’

‘Recently we bought a family car,’ Helena had sat down in the chair, laying her bag beside her as she relaxed into the seat. ‘When we got it we drove through the countryside…it was so thrilling. The wind on my face felt different to when I am riding. Daddy looked so happy too. I like cars.’

‘My my, what a riveting experience.’ You glanced at her from your work. ‘I remember my first time in a car. Felt exactly like how you described it.’

Helena beamed back you, her bright blue eyes gleaming with excitement, ‘My uncle Finn liked the car ride at first too but we had to stop because he got sick,’

‘And did you?’

‘No, I felt great. I love cars.’

‘I too think cars are the greatest innovation since the marvellous idea to roast and ferment cocoa beans to make chocolate.’ You let out a lighthearted laugh, infecting Helena with the same giggle.

‘I like chocolate.’

‘You do?’ Your lips curled. ‘Do you want one? I might have a bit stashed somewhere between all this energy-consuming work,’

‘I’ve only had it twice,’ Helena began another story, ‘It is very expensive and my father says it is bad for your teeth and that you mustn’t eat too much of it. He said that when he was visiting London he met a man outside of the sweet shop who became so round, simply for eating a lot of chocolate.’

‘Well best you have only one piece then,’ you put a piece into your mouth before giving her her piece. ‘This is my favourite. Got it from Cornwall. They make the best sweets.’

Taking the piece you handed her, she started eating it, her eyes in awe.

‘What about your father, Helena?’

‘What about him?’

‘What does he do for work?’ You asked, amusingly raising your eyebrows before taking the second heap of documents before you.

Helena hesitated. ‘I don’t think I can say.’

‘Why not?’

‘Family business…’

‘Family business?’ You looked up, Helena nodding her head in response. ‘I’m just curious that’s all. When you speak of him, you speak endearingly. You seem to have a very good relationship.’

‘We do.’ She ate the last bite, looking around the room. ‘If he wasn’t my father he would be my best friend.’

‘How sweet.’

With an easy lead conversation, time passed quicker than expected. But an hour later and Mr. Shelby still hadn’t come to pick up Helena.

With minutes passing you realised that Mr. Shelby wouldn’t show up anytime soon. It was also way past closing time so you had to start locking up the building. You thought it best to walk Helena home to see if anyone was there and if not you’d take her back to yours so she would have a safe place to stay until anyone got in touch.

‘Hello?’ You knocked against the door, the hard wooden door aching your knuckles as you repeatedly hit against it. ‘This is Miss Verys from Small Heath Institute for Girls. I have your daughter Helena with me as she has not been picked up yet.’ Your breath ricocheted off the door.

Seconds later you could hear the lock turning and were greeted by an older woman, her hair all over the place as her dark eyes burned into yours. Feeling as if she were about to take a jape at you, you quickly jumped back into your sentence. ‘I’m so sorry to intrude but I grew worried when Helena still hadn’t been picked up yet. I hope that all is well.’

Your eyes left her frame, seeing figures surrounding a table where there seemed to be a man laying down upon, quick huffs and puffs echoing from behind.

‘Arthur, shut up and just get this out of me.’

‘Drink this, Tommy. It’ll help with the pain.’

The unravelling scene before you had your full attention, completely forgetting the woman at the door.

‘I—oh no don’t do that!’ You raised your voice, pushing past her, now standing in the living room with three men staring at you. ‘I’m sorry to intrude but I was a nurse at the front and seeing you just stick your fingers inside his wound just rang my bells.’

The man on the table had blue eyes that protruded from the dim light within the room, his chest covered in dry and fresh blood, sweat dampening his skin and clothes. You overheard that his name was Thomas Shelby, Helena’s father.

You stepped closer and examined his wound. A bullet wound. Minimal surface damage and easily removed.

‘If someone could get me some bandages, an unopened bottle of alcohol and some tweezers with a bowl of warm water.’

‘I’ll get it.’ Helena walked past you to what seemed to be the kitchen.

‘The cheap one, Hallie,’ the light haired one yelled after her, his toothpick sitting between his lips. ‘If you open that rum from the Caribbean, I swear to you that I won’t give you any more sweets.’

‘You give her sweets?’ Thomas lifted his head.

‘Sometimes.’

‘Mr. Shelby if you could just relax for a short time longer. I will get that bullet out of you as swiftly as possible.’

Further taking in his naked chest you noticed his tattoo. Similar to sun rays just above his right chest. You had seen this tattoo before…

‘Mr. Shelby, can I ask you something?’

‘Yes.’

‘Do you perhaps have a scar on your lower back? On your right just above your glutes?’

‘How do you know that?’ He stared up at you, holding your gaze as Helena came back with the supplies you needed.

‘Given it was a back injury you were transported to the tent on your stomach,’ you grabbed the alcohol to clean the wound, a hiss escaping him as you grabbed the tweezers, ready to pull out the metal embedded in his flesh. ‘I was the nurse that treated you. I was covered in ugly drapes and bloods, can’t say you could recognise me,’

Thomas winced as the ends of the tweezers dug around to grab the piece of metal, a small smirk on his lips. ‘You don’t say eh?’

‘I’m sure you’ll be having a déjà vu when I pull it out,’ you grabbed it and pulled it out, a loud growl escaping his lips as air pushed past his lips.

‘Thank you again.’

‘No problem, Mr. Shelby.’ You disposed of the bullet in a dish Arthur held out to you. ‘Next time Helena is not picked up I’ll bring her home and bring my first aid kit with me.’

‘That’s actually not a bad idea,’ he pulled himself up, grabbing a cigarette and lighting it. ‘Small Heath is starting you feel like a battlefield,’

‘Then I’ll be your nurse ready to care you to health.’

[navybrat817]

It's cold, Navy! What will our florist do about it?

Keep you warm, of course, nonnie.

Snowfall

Pairing: Florist!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Summary: You refuse to go outside on a cold day and Bucky is more than happy to keep you warm.

Word Count: Over 1k

Warnings: Sugary sweet fluff and love, kissing, established relationship, slight feels (it's me), Bucky Barnes (he’s a warning, okay?)

A/N: Small ficlet for our florist.❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Divider by the lovely @firefly-graphics . Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

You refused to step outside today. Between the bitter cold and thick snow covering the sidewalks and streets, you were more than content to stay inside and remain warm under a mountain of blankets. The heavy gust of wind that pushed against your home told you that you made the right decision.

Thankfully, Bucky made it back safely from the shop before the snow really started to come down. Anyone else would've appeared frozen to their core after being out in that weather, but he merely flashed you a smile after he shook out his long hair and stomped his boots off by the door. He even managed to keep a flower tucked carefully in his coat for you.

Always thinking of me.

“You know, there’s more than enough snow out there to make a snowman,” he said an hour later as he finished stringing up a set of holiday lights around the living room window, taking a step back to admire his handiwork once he turned them on. “Could be fun.”

You smiled as you set two mugs of hot cocoa on the coffee table. “I mean, we could do that,” you said, wrinkling your nose as he looked at you over his shoulder. “But I think I'd rather stay inside.”

He smiled as he turned to face you with his hands on his hips. Instead of his usual t-shirts or Henleys, he adorned a cozy sweater that made his eyes pop more than usual. Gazing into them was like viewing your own personal winter.

“Why? Too cold out there for your taste?”

You fought a shiver, your body temperature dropping from the mere thought of the outside air touching your skin. “Way too cold.”

“Aww, come on,” he said before he asked in a singsong tone, “Do you wanna build a snowman?”

You giggled at his cuteness, but shook your head. “Nope. I’ll freeze,” you said, lifting your chin as he raised an eyebrow. “I’m not going out there and you can't make me.”

The moment the words left your mouth, guilt crept in. What if Bucky really did want to go outside and make a snowman with you? When was the last time you did that? The two of you hadn't done much for the holidays yet, but you wanted to make the season special and not act like a Grinch.

He deserved better than that.

“What if I ask nicely?” He questioned, his eyes locked with yours as he stuck his lower lip out.

You faltered under his loving gaze and pout. He made you weak. You could admit that to yourself. “Okay, okay. We can go outside,” you relented.

“Really?” He smiled as he gestured behind him. “You’ll go out there?”

“I really will. Because it's you, Bucky,” you replied. If he wanted to go out there, you’d tough it out for him and bury yourself underself the blankets after. “But I'm warning you. I’ll turn into a popsicle if I do and you’ll have to carry me inside. And I demand all the cuddles after.”

“I’ll give as many cuddles as you need,” he promised, his easy smile shifting to a playful smirk, which was enough to make your heart pound against your ribcage. “And I don't mind giving you a few licks to make you melt, Petal.”

“Bucky,” you breathed when he took a step toward you.

Instead of moving closer like you expected, he walked toward your soft, oversized chair. He effortlessly moved it from its usual spot and turned it toward the window before he took a seat. “Come here,” he urged, patting his left thigh twice.

You fought a smile as you went to join him. He reached for your hand once you were close enough and pulled you unceremoniously into his lap, chuckling when you let out a sound of surprise. He wrapped a blanket around your shoulders once you settled into a comfortable position, allowing you to relax completely against him.

“I thought we were going outside,” you said, though you made no effort to move from your spot. Not when he was so firm and warm and smelled like heaven.

“We don't have to do that. I was just teasing,” he assured you, his scruff brushing against your cheek as you sighed and snuggled into him more. He could've said that to make you feel better, but you knew he’d never lie to you. “Why don’t we just enjoy the view instead?”

Your heart filled with unexpected joy as you looked out the window. You couldn't recall the last time you appreciated the allure of winter. Nature didn't need any sort of decoration, but the surrounding lights gave a colorful glow to the glittering snow that fell outside. It was like a silent dance, reminding you that there was beauty all around you.

Being in Bucky’s arms made it all the more special.

“Wow,” you whispered.

Unbeknownst to you, Bucky didn't glance at the view. He focused solely on you with a gentle and content gaze, both in awe of your beauty and how he was the lucky man who got to hold you like this. Coming home to you after a long, cold day was the best gift he could ask for.

“Maybe tomorrow we can build a snowman,” you offered after a few minutes, tilting your head to smile at him. Heat flowed to your cheeks when you realized he was staring at you. “If you want.”

“Or we can stay in bed,” he whispered, placing his hand against your cheek in a gentle caress. “Keep each other warm.”

You let out a soft gasp before he pressed his lips against yours. The two of you stayed locked together as the snow continued to fall outside, his mouth leisurely moving against yours. Slow and tender, he practically made love to your mouth.

As soft as the snowfall.

“Love you, Bucky,” you breathed.

“Love you, too, Petal.”

And it was his love and passion that would always keep you warm.

He can keep me warm all night. Love and thanks for reading. 💙

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[solarpunkani]

I think it'd be fun to imagine a solarpunk society where most buildings come with a greenhouse, whether its attached or a separate but nearby structure, and people take great pride in their greenhouses' looks and vibe.

Like imagine personalizing your/your family's greenhouse, and visiting your friends' greenhouses. How you use it in different seasons, what you have growing in it, the spaces dedicated to hanging out.

Imagine you go to a friend's house and they have a greenhouse with green and yellow panels interspersed, light shining through the glass and onto a nice warm floor on a spring day. There's a rug and some pillows tucked into the corner with a small table, so you can sit or pull up a chair to enjoy snacks or just hang out.

You go to another friend's. Their greenhouse is dedicated to output, with dwarf citrus trees and strawberries and peppers and tomatoes and herbs growing in neat little pots on the tables. Some of them will be planted in the beds outside, some will be given to friends, some will live their whole lives within the glass walls and be perfectly happy. Sometimes your friend opens the panels, and the greenhouse comes to life with all kinds of butterflies and bees stopping by to visit.

There's a nice greenhouse by the library, which has a few fragrant herbs and tea plants growing inside, but is mostly a cozy space. A nice table and a few chairs are inside, for students who like to use the space to study or hang out together. There's one great big chair that's nestled in the perfect spot to read in the warm sunlight, or to listen to the sound of gentle rains tapping against the glass in summer. In fall and winter, they keep a healthy supply of warm hot cocoa and coffee for visitors to enjoy, but in the summer you're more likely to find fresh lemonade.

You know someone who uses their greenhouse as more of a gathering place, its perfect for parties. Plenty of tables and chairs, string lights along the walls so get-togethers can last well into the night. The various panels in pink, orange, and yellow make the room feel magical as light filters through.

Some families turn their greenhouses over to the kids quite early, and it quickly becomes a place full of toys, tiny seedlings of their favorite flowers in colorful pots, a few study books tucked away in a study corner. Or a popular hangout spot for them and their friends to post up with snacks after school.

A few couples may grow a few plants, but keep the area mostly clear--perfect for times where they just want to turn on a small radio, and slowdance with one another well into the night.

And your greenhouse? You can use it however you'd like after all, make it your own.

[broomsick]

Nine unique ways to reconnect with nature

Why nine? Because it's the sacred number of my path. In my experience, for people like us who need a certain amount of spiritual practice in their lives, feeling close to nature does wonders for the mood. And I know this is easier said than done, which is why I wanted to share a few personal tips, all related to some extent to self care. After all, I feel like we underestimate the tight link between mental health and this feeling of “closeness” with the earth.

Find the sacred in plants, or animals you've always been drawn to. How can you explain this particular connection you feel? Your intuition often reveals truth.

Collect what you see, and don't be afraid to hoard trinkets like treasure. Cool rock, cool stick, cute acorn, fragrant flower, fallen branch... Whatever tickles your fancy.

Go out of your way to enjoy what every season has to offer. Garden in the summer, or chill at the park, carve a pumpkin during the autumn, make hot cocoa during the winter... Find ways to be cozy in every weather!

Look out the window. Do it as often as you can. Look at the sky, observe how windy it is, how bright the sun is, how thick the clouds are!

Give names to the natural elements around you. Simply calling a tree, plant or animal by the name of its species does the trick: names are powerful, and they show that you acknowledge the spirit that resides in everything that lives.

Learn the stories, as many as you can. Anything folklore related to your area! Folklore hides a great deal of generational wisdom and beliefs, and it reveals such a powerful connection between the people and the land.

Cook with fresh ingredients. No need to grow your own everything, or raise your own chickens, or adopt other such backyard farming activities. Simply by making meals out of fresh, local products as often as you can, you might feel as one with the land thanks to which you are fed.

Stop feeling silly when indulging in aesthetics. Make that Pinterest board filled with pictures of flowers! Listen to that song that makes you feel like a woodland fairy! Put on that long, flowy skirt, or that cardigan with knit mushrooms on it! Through these seemingly trivial little joys, we may experience a connection with ourselves that's crucial to feeling close to our mother earth.

Use your hands: craft artsy projects if you can, dig your fingers in the earth, and brush the bark of trees! You body is your best tool when it comes to feeling grounded. It's always the part of yourself that's closest to earth. To use it is to honor it, and to care for it is to care for yourself.

If you reside in the Northern hemisphere, have a great spring season! Hail the King of the Elves and the spirits of the land 💛

[orchidsangel]

going to a tree farm with jason because he once mentioned how bruce used a real tree every christmas when he was younger. he says the smell of pine around the house comforted him when he was a child, and alfred used to make him hot cocoa while he did his homework beside the fireplace. it's an off-handed statement, and he didn't mean for the idea to worm its way into your brain. still, it did, and so you insist on getting a real tree this year as a way to bring his past and present together. 

hand in hand, you walk through aisles and aisles of trees, searching for the perfect one; the abundance of green and the foresty smell of pine, almost overwhelming. you lean over, gently taking a branch in your hand, a soft hum escaping your lips as you search for a sign that it's a good contender. but after a couple of seconds of running your fingers over the needles, you sigh. "you don't know what you're looking for, huh?" he asks, and you turn your head towards him, a sheepish grin on your face. he just draws you back by the shoulders with a laugh. "it's alright. i'll help."

leading you by the hand, he weaves the both of you in and out of rows of soon-to-be christmas trees. it takes a few minutes, but he finally stops at a beautiful eight-foot-tall specimen, pointing out the shape, branch density, color, and smell. he tells you it's nothing you need to remember, but you make a mental note of the light in his eyes when he's explaining to you what makes it perfect. 

getting the tree up the six flights of stairs to your apartment was difficult but surprisingly not as difficult as getting it to stand up. jason holds it up while you screw it into the tree stand, adjusting screws over and over again until he can safely back away from it without holding his arms out in fear that it'll fall over. you crawl out from under, a smile on your face as you admire how perfectly upright it is, tip almost touching the ceiling; and you take a step, moving forward to separate the branches but jump back when you feel something sharp under your foot. needles. lots of them. 

he sweeps them up while you grab the ornaments you'd been keeping in a spare closet. last christmas by wham plays in the background, and a pot of cocoa boils on the stovetop, waiting to be seasoned with a dash of cinnamon just the way he likes it. "need any help?" he shouts, tossing clusters of pine needles in the trash. "no!" you shout back, pulling down boxes of glass bulbs and bobbles; but you still hear his footsteps as he treads down the short hallway to you, and grabs the box of decorations from your hands. 

he looks down to see a mess of red. frosty red spheres, red birds, red metal engraved with his name and yours, et cetera. red on top of red on top of red, and he looks up at you, the beginning of a smile playing on his lips. "what? too on the nose?" you ask. he just shakes his head with a laugh, turning away to set them down in the living room before helping you with the rest. “at least tell me you’ll break up the color scheme with some silver tinsel.” he says, taking another box from you, this time red glass stars. “sorry," you say holding up a long line of sparkly red string. "the tinsel’s red too.”

[thisismeracing]

millie! can i request #5 for sharlssss?

nonny!! of course! 🥰🥰here you gooo, sorry for taking forever *mwah*

From the Quick Prompt List: 5. “You're too overprotective”

word count: 0.5k

pairing: reader (she/her pronouns) x charles leclerc

warnings: fluff, mentions of skiing, mentions of losing someone you love (but its fairly quick), not proofread.

"Did you get all your clothes? Are you warm enough?" Charles asked doing a once over Yn to make sure she was wrapped around the thick clothes.

They were going skiing together, something Yn never did before. She also wasn't the biggest fan of the winter season, she wasn't against it while at home near the fireplace with hot cocoa on her hands, but walking around snow? playing around in the snow? it could be too much, so she usually let it pass. However, this time she wanted to go skiing, she wanted to do something different and of course, Charles would follow her around.

"I did, sharls," she theatrically rolls her eyes and one of their friends chuckles.

"It seems like you cannot worry about your own girlfriend anymore nowadays," the moneguásque quips before grabbing his things.

It was only an hour after they got into the ski resort when Charles asked, "Mon amour, you should drink some water, it's easy to dehydrate in this weather too, you know?"

Yn huffed but grabbed her water bottle taking a long gulp before directing her attention back to her gear again. And Charles being Charles did the same: paid attention to her gear. He strapped everything and made sure her helmet was in place. When all their friends were ready to go they took the chairlift to the top of the hill, Yn admired the sight and tried to remember all the instructions given when they got there, instructions essentially for her and a small group who were not used to the sport, meanwhile, Charles and the others were just fine having done it since forever.

"Maybe we should go to the smallest mountain," Leclerc suggests when Yn wobbled on her feet almost hitting the ground without even starting the path down. "Or maybe take some classes before trying it, it should be safer," he adds.

"Stop it, Charles! You're too overprotective! I'm fine, I will be fine, it's not the first time I try something new, you gotta give me space to be," she states, and although her words are assertive, she uses her soft tone because she's well aware he wasn't doing it on purpose. The thing was, Charles was afraid of her getting hurt, or worse, losing her, so he would always make sure she was safe, he would move heavens and earth so that Yn would feel ok because he knew exactly how it felt to lose someone you love.

"I'm sorry," he says before dropping her mask to touch their cold lips in a kiss. Yn brings him closer and deepens it making sure he knows she got him and that she would be safe, there was nothing to worry about, that was what she tried to say with the kiss.

And that's exactly what happened: they were safe the whole day skiing around the resort. Yn fell on her butt and rolled down some feet, but so did their friends, and eventually so did Charles. It was a fun day, and Charles knew Yn would eventually fall again, but he would be there and that was the most comforting thing, for her, to know that someone was there to catch you or to console you; and for him, to know that he was that someone for her.

-ok alexa play We are the champions by Queen cuz millie finally finished the quick prompt list party yayyyy hope you guys liked it <3 lmk your thoughts, gimme your likes, reblogs, and comments, I appreciate it *mwah*