snow shapes


6x04 • 6x09

Do you like games, little man? Let’s play a game. Run to your brother. The sooner you make it to him, the sooner you get to see him again.

Uncle Popeye Fucks Up Hunting So Bad Legislation Happens

(Gun use, alcohol mention, amazingly- no animal death)

So you may remember Uncle Popeye from A Holiday Story, when he and grandpa tried to shoot a pheasant and fucked it up real bad.  I called the Ohio Relatives.  They have no idea how the family knew Popeye either, but that his given name was Richard, but got tired of being called “Dick” and after losing an eye in WW2, went by Popeye.

Look man, Ohio DOES things to people.

Popeye fancied himself the Great Outdoors-man, despite a long list of evidence to the contrary- besides the shooting incident, there was the time he got lost in the woods behind his house for a week despite being less than a mile from his house and six major roads, the time he almost poisoned the whole family after mushrooming in the hills only to be stopped by GG, and the time he got in a fight with a Woodcock and Lost.

The worst though, was Snowflake.

Near where my Ohio relatives lived, and continue to live, there is a Military Armory. (You know that joke about “If all your relatives all live in the same postcode, you might be a redneck?”  Yeah, check that.  Mom was the first to leave the state, and keeps urging the others that they are free to leave, they can’t keep you there. But I digress).  The armory is actually kind of a large campus, several hundred acres in size, where they take lots of old munitions and aircraft and whatnot, and figure out how to take apart and dispose of them without blowing everything up to fuck. The whole area is fenced off to keep the locals from helping themselves to the munitions (A serious issue in redneck country), which trapped the deer in the forest inside.  

The deer, no longer having to worry about hunters, but cut off from the outside population, basically went full Deliverance, and the resulting mutants are… rather pretty.  

The mutation is Luecistism, not albinism, but it makes for pretty, pretty very stupid deer.  Like, even dumber than white-tail already are, and whitetail are DUMB.  But the deer on the armory could afford to be easy to spot and have no natural fear of anything, because there were no predators or hunters, and the soldiers stationed there had better things to do

The prettiest of them all was Snowflake, the large white buck named Snowflake, because soldiers are great at naming things.  He was, by all accounts, a truly splendid creature- snow-white and shapely, with a well-developed rack.  Not unlike a porn star, apparently.  And many a man Lusted after snowflake, desperate for his head.

Or other things.  Ohio’s a pretty fucked up place.

But unlike other men, who would only stare wistfully from afar, Popeye was absolutely determined to have Snowflake.  The issue was, the military, having a few moments of sense, had decreed that having people wandering around a munitions decommissioning plant with firearms was likely to result in fire and death, declared that there was to be no hunting on their grounds.  The only way Popeye could feasibly shoot Snowflake would be if he were somehow able to get him on the other side of the fence.  But he couldn’t just cut a hole in the fence- it was fairly regularly checked, and he’d be caught.  Nope.  Somehow, Popeye had to get Snowflake on the other side of the fence without damaging it or the Military noticing.

It was during an afternoon of boozing and watching western documentaries, Popeye hit upon a solution.  He was watching a tourism promotion for all the great outdoor activities in Colorado, when he saw the solution to his problem.

He could FISH for deer.

Specifically, he fly-fish.  In his mind, he could clearly see how it would play out.  he’d simply find a heavy-duty line, cast it over the fence, tangling it in Snowflake’s antlers, and then reel him over the fence, where it would be perfectly legal to shoot him and then he’d be the envy of all the men down at the elks lodge.  Hah!  Genius!

So that spring, Popeye began tossing corn over the fence to lure deer to that particular secluded corner, and was immensely pleased when Snowflake started turning up regularly.  He’d get his trophy AND some fat venison!  All summer and into fall, he continued this, with the deer getting entirely too casual about his presence.  he also got his hands on some deep-sea fishing line and practiced ensnaring the antlers of his dummy deer in the backyard.  Just to make sure he had the leverage to haul Snowflake in, he got the harness that attaches the pole to your hip.  All was going according to plan.

So the first day of hunting season, Popeye goes to his corner where he’s been feeding the deer, and Snowflake is there, waiting for breakfast.  Great.  Popeye backs his pickup truck up to the fence, and stands on the bed so he can cast over the fence.  The deer, being imbeciles, fail to notice anything amiss.  He casts, and miracle of miracles, he gets the loop over Snowflake’s antlers on the first try!  Popeye whips the line around some more, making sure Snowflake is good and tangled, before reeling him in.

Apparently snowflake just stood there for this part, presumably looking confused.  Then the line began to pull on him.

As Popeye would later recount from the hospital:  “That’s when I realized.  Deer ain’t Mackinaw.”

Popeye had, in all his planning,  not taken into consideration that a 200-pound buck at the height of his testosterone-riddled rut might be somewhat disinclined to be pulled over a fence.  Furthermore, Popeye had failed to account that at 5′5″, he was of similar size to the deer, and in nowhere near as good of shape.

He recalled ALMOST flying over the fence as Snowlfake turned and ran for the safety of the base.  He did not quite make it, and cracked both knees as they slammed into the fence, jeans and harness shredding on the barbed wire.  it was not enough to separate him from the harness, only enough to slide it down his legs and tangle around his ankles, so that once he hit the ground, Popeye was dragged for half a goddamn mile by his feet as Snowflake frantically tried to get away.

Once at the base, and all manner of bruised, cut up and abused, Popeye was relieved when they finally came to a halt.  he regretted it half a second later when he realized that Snowflake had only turned around, and was now bearing down on his sorry ass full-tilt.  Several puncture and kick wounds later, Popeye managed to kick off the harness, freeing himself from Snowflake, and had to run back to where he thought he’d left the truck.  In the middle of the night, in the woods, with cracked patellas and without pants.

It took him all night to find the fence and truck, but managed to get back over the fence and to the hospital without being spotted. In a fit of paranoia that almost pased for good sense, he drove to three counties away to be treated, so the police wouldn’t find him, bleeding all the way.  He neglected beforehand, to tell any of his friends or family where he was going, except that he was deer-hunting.

He was very disappointed when he turned up a week later and found out nobody had gone looking for him.

 Snowflake was found tangled up in a tree, and was cut loose by the soldiers, apparently upset but unharmed.  Concerned that the poachers were getting too creative for their own good, the base petitioned the state legislature to maybe make a law that you aren’t allowed to fish for deer, Christ, we only found the poor man’s pants.

The state legislature, in a fit of rabid libertarianism, declared that such a law would be too restrictive upon the freedom of Ohioans, so the Army tried the country.  The county, which had to actually deal with this kind of bullshit on a semi-regular basis, agreed, and it is now illegal to Hunt any bird, fish or quadruped with devices and equipment not intended for such purpose.

Popeye never went deer-hunting after that, and Snowflake went on to sire many many more pretty inbred deer.

some magical things

- seeing your breath in the air on cold winter mornings
- falling in love with someone 
- being so lost in a book or movie that you become disorientated when you finish
- dreaming about being in love and then waking up and being in love 
- gardens where all the trees and bushes are trimmed into shapes
- snow covered forests and woodland animals
- rose gardens in the spring
- the entire existence of dogs
- when a song evokes strong emotions it makes you cry 
- when someone is gentle and kind without any bad intentions
- making a sad friend smile again
- the stars and the moon on a clear night 


the door shuts behind simon, and baz looks up from his textbooks, sneer already plastered on his face.

“how was your little session with the mage?” his voice is taunting, mesmerising, almost haunting. like a siren’s song. simon watches the shadows shift over baz’s face and can almost believe baz means him no harm.

“fuck off.” it’s tired.

simon turns his back to baz. he doesn’t see baz frown. this isn’t the simon he’s used to at all.

baz’s voice floats across the room to him. “aw, what’s wrong? does the mage not like widdle simon anymore?”

simon’s shirt makes a soft rustling noise as he gingerly peels it off his body. he instinctively holds his left hand over the giant bruise on his stomach, prays baz doesn’t see it.

“or maybe,” baz continues tauntingly, “the mage finally realises how idiotic this whole thing is and he’s called it off? aleister crowley, i hope so.”

he thinks baz’s voice sounds like music, the sharp noise bouncing off the silence of the night. a breeze blows through the window, and he shivers.

simon pulls off his socks and leaves them on the floor. baz lets out a disgusted sound, but simon really, really doesn’t have the strength to care right now. he climbs into bed, pulling the covers over him.

baz sighs loudly. “i can’t believe i’ve put up with six years as roommates with this prat.”

“baz.” simon’s voice is soft. monotone. nothing like a siren’s song at all. “shut up.”

baz does.

Through the snow, shapes began to form. They were large and lumbering, with giant hooves and jagged horns as big as an arm. They appeared on top of the ridge with their arms full of contraptions that were far too heavy for most inhabitants of Pandaria to move. Their eyes glowed sickly fel green, with more demonic fire fanning out from their bodies where it glowed the brightest – spiraling around their massive horns, and glowing from thick, pulsing veins rippling across their robust bodies. They peered down at the caravan with acidic malevolence.

-Excerpt from my Pre-Legion invasion RP I’m conducting for my guild! 

Also I drew him. Yaungol were already plenty dangerous; now imagine them corrupted by fel.

Take it Slow

Original request from a darling anon: hey erin!!! if it’s okay, do you think you could write me a christmas fic with Pietro? maybe the team is having a snowball fight and he’s using his powers to win and he shows off so much he ends up accidentally hurting her and he’s so horrified and angry at himself, and he basically refuses to leave her side from then on, taking care of her and carrying her everywhere and bringing her hot chocolate and going completely overboard with presents and ends up confessing he’s in love with her?

A/N: First off, I want to apologize for how long it’s taken me to get this done. Second, I’m sorry about how much it changed from your request, the direction I went in just felt a little more natural. Regardless, I hope you like it!!

Pairing: PietroxReader

Word Count: 3027

Warnings: None

“What are the rules?”

“What do you mean? We’re super heroes about to duke it out in a snowball fight,” Tony scoffs. “There’s no such thing as rules in an Avengers snowball right.”

“Of course not.” I roll my eyes and cross my arms over my heavily layered chest.

“I don’t know why you bothered wearing such a huge jacket (Y/N), you’re just gonna get sweaty and end up taking it off.” Clint comments.

“I don’t care to freeze my ass off, Barton.” I shoot back.

Clint shrugs. “Suit yourself.”

“I will, thank you.” I turn back to Tony, eyebrows raised. “So, rules?”

Tony rolls his eyes. “Fine, rules are, there are no rules. Got it?” Clint lets out a snort and I punch him in the arm, admittedly harder than I should have. “Rogers and I will be team captains. If anyone has a problem with it, take out your anger during the snowball fight, I don’t know.”

“Get on with it, Stark!” Natasha calls, her tone impatient.

“Alright, alright.” Tony scowls at her. “Cap, you get first pick.”

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Request: Hi! Can you do an imagine with the twelfth doctor where the reader is his companion and they’re always really optimistic and happy and stuff and the docor, being rather grumpy and sarcastic, always acts like he’s annoyed by it but he secretely loves their optimism and it makes him happy? Thank you!

Requester: @just-a-smol-squish

Pairing: Twelfth Doctor x Optimistic!Companion!Reader

Warning: None

Words: 1344



The Doctor didn’t look around from his position behind the column of the console, the only trace of him being there the swish of the bottom of his jacket occasionally poking out. As more of your cries and shouts echoed around the metallic framing of the TARDIS he sighed, a hidden smile on his face, and peeked around to see what commotion you were squealing about, his signature frown scrunched back onto his face. 

"What?” He asked sharply. 

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art credit / 8tracks / playmoss

Animal (Miike Snow) | i change shapes just to hide in this place
Electric Bird (Sia) | well, you’re art, you fell into this part
Brass Goggles (Steam Powered Giraffe) | will i ever be something with feelings to hide, or am i just a boiler with nothing inside?
Dream City (Free Energy) | tired of feeling bad so don’t you wonder why you keep telling yourself it’s all right
Music Box (Regina Spektor) | i close my eyes and think that i have found me, but then i feel mortality surround me
Dissect (Glasser) | shackled to a window, anything but open, i’m giving myself to
Fire Escape (Foster the People) | my spine is made of iron, my heart pumps out cold red paint
The Spine Song (Cake Bake Betty) | you opened books and peeked inside, they kissed you on your crown
Be Human (Scott Matthew) | will i cry when it’s all over? when i die, will i see heaven?

Melting Snow

A/N: Jacob is back to warm you a little! wrote it with thought of my best girl @ohlookahiddenblade  <3 to make her feel better! sorry for any mistakes and enJOY! (credit to the owner of the gif) X

Pairing: Jacob Frye x Reader

Warnings: fluffy fluff

You were standing on the roof of one of the London buildings observing the city. All of the city was covered with thick layer of snow, which gave the most fun to the children, who were playing snow fights and creating snowmen. Their laughs were heard everywhere, which made you smile and brought back nice memories from your own childhood.

A quite hard stroke in your back pulled you back from your thoughts. You turned back and looked into direction from where it could came, when the next one you felt on your face. You swayed and took a step back to keep your balance and clamped your eyes, feeling cold and wet snow. You brushed it away and heard loud, throaty laugh coming from behind nearby chimney, who you would recognize everywhere. You came closer and saw no one else, but infamous Jacob Frye. Young man, who irritated you to the limits with his stupid jokes and immature behaviour and for who your heart beat faster since the day you met him. However, you had no courage to tell him about your feelings towards him, being affraid of rejection. Nevertheless, his sister Evie noticed straight away the way you looked at her brother and encouraged you to confess him your feelings, but you were never able to do it. You’d rather be his friend than loose him.

‘’I hope, you are having a good time, Jacob?’’ You asked sarcastically crossing your arms.

‘’Indeed, love.’’ Jacob gasped still laughing and putting one of his hands on the chimney to keep him steady.

Cheeky grin appeared on your lips and with fast move you gathered snow from the roof shaping a small ball. You threw it straight into Jacob’s face and his annoying laugh immediately died away. He wobbled and with a thoud fell on the roof. That time you started to laugh and younger twin’s face became red from embarrassment and irritation.

‘’Awww Jacob, why don’t you laugh anymore? Earlier, it was all so funny to you.’’ You mocked him and Jacob gazed at you with a glint in his eye, which didn’t bring anything good. You felt shivers running down your spine.

‘’And it still will be when I get my revenge on you, love.’’ On his handsome face appeared cheeky smile and he started standing up.

‘’Maybe if you catch me, snail!’’ You called over your shoulder running and laughing loudly.

‘’Snail? You are so in trouble, love.’’ You heard him laughing behind you and light thuds of his boots.

You laughed sarcastically again and started jumping from roof to roof trying to loose Jacob, but it wasn’t easy. That bastard was fast and nimble, and his hurt pride and ego were giving him even more strenght and speed.

You noticed that there were only couple of buildings left ahead of you, so you decided to jump off on the street and try to mingle into the crowd. You found a narrow passage between buildings and by catching pendant bricks you found yourself on one of the London streets. Then, you ran into the crowd of people, put on your hood and carefuly looked over your shoulder. You saw Jacob’s top hat and you fastened the pace. You went into the side alley and ran along it.

‘’Gotcha!’’ You heard Jacob’s husky voice on the other side of the alley.

You turned aroud quickly and grinned. ‘’Not yet!’’ Then you sped up and found yourself in the park.

Your lungs stung from the lack of breath and you felt how your legs started to slow down. You couldn’t give Jacob that satisfaction and you tried force your muscles to work a little longer. You heard Jacob steps just behind and then his large, strong hands caught you by waist and both of you pitched to the ground.

Jacob’s top hat fell from his head when his heavy, firm body pinned you to the cold snow. There were heard loud, honest laughs coming from your throats. Jacob turned you on your back, leaning most of his weight on his arm and when you looked into each other eyes, your laughs died away. You felt nice warmth radiating from his body, heating your own. His rough palm softly brushed away unruly starnds of your hair from your face, then with his fingertips stroked along your cold, rosy cheek. You smiled lightly and embarrassed to the feeling, but you placed your palm on his broad chest without breaking the stare and moved it up, tenderly dabbing his neck and finally putting it on his cold cheek.

Jacob started moving his face closer to yours. His warm, mint breath was heating and pleasently tingling your face. In his hazel eyes you saw something like ask for permission. You lifted your head and rubbed your nose against his, making Jacob chuckle. Your heart was beating like crazy, but it gave you courage to close the gap between you two in a tender and uncertain kiss. You were affraid, that Jacob didn’t return back your feelings and was acting only on the spur of the moment, but you felt how he gave back the kisses without hesitation and with entanglement. You put your hands on the back of his neck and drew him in to your body. Younger Frye put his hand on your neck and delicately started stroking it with his thumb, making you giggle a little into the kiss. You wanted to feel his lips against your own for so long. You wnated to know their taste, if they were soft and warm. To your surprise, his lips were even better than in your imagination.

Jacob parted your lips with his tongue and deepened the kiss. Moans of pleasure ripped from your throats and your palms tangled into his dark hair, moving him closer, that there was no free space between you. Jacob’s hand slid down to your waist, squeezing it firmly, making you shudder. You didn’t feel cold, only heat radiating from his body, which could melt whole snow around you. Your tongues were dancing together like they were doing it since forever and you couldn’t  tear off from each other even if the lack of air were no more bearable. Your kisses became more sloppy and finally you broke away, breathing heavily. Jacob put his forehead against your own. His eyes were closed and on his lips was a soft smile.

‘’Now I gotcha and I will never let you go.’’ He whispered and looked into your eyes, stroking your cheek softly.


This was waiting in my inbox this morning and I just HAD TO DO SOMETHING.

Winter came rather like a surprise to those bustling about Skyhold. The air was always crisp and fresh, they were after all in the mountains, and outside their walls snow lay thick and gleaming. Everyone thought the transition from late autumn to winter wouldn’t be very noticeable. They were very wrong. The air seemed even clearer, the temperature dropped incredibly,and unless you were in the main hall, kitchen or had a room that was constantly heated you were doomed to be chilly.
Or in Dorian’s case you were doomed to feeling like every limb was slowly freezing off.
The mage groaned as his fingers felt stiffened around the tome he was working over once more.

How did they stand it?! By all that was holy this cold would be the death of him. And what an unworthy death for the scion of house Pavus. He sniffed and promptly sneezed afterwards. He was only barely able to keep in a dissatisfied whine. At the very least he still held his pride, damn it all.

Laughter from outside trickled in from the window in his little alcove, who in their right mind would - of course it had to be his Amatus and the touched elf, they were running around like children, shaping snow in their hands and throwing it at one another. What in the maker’s name was the point?! They’d get even colder. He sneezed miserably again and didn’t spot Sera pointing up at his window.

He was attempting to warm his fingers, still clutched around the bloody book, by breathing on them, lets see if south remedies work. Of course not. When a loud bang to his window startled him to attention. Looking over he saw a ball of snow slowly sliding down the glass and he stepped closer.

There on the ground stood Vaxus, smiling up at his window and pointed to something on the ground- Dorian flushed. There, in big letters was his name in the snow, and around it was twigs and stones shaped to look like a damned heart. Vaxus pressed his hands to his chest and gazed up at him with what Varric liked to call his “occasional lovestruck maiden look”.
Dorian’s response was to duck under the window and hide, cheeks burning. Well… he was certainly warmer…now to discreetly get ahold of that sentimental fool, drag him to his room and have the lummox warm him up in front of the fire. After he’d melted that… thing on the ground first.

The heart stayed in the snow till spring.