He hears her laughter just before he feels the ice, cold powder hit his neck and fall down the back of his shirt. He turns to her and she has a devilish glint in her eye and her bottom lip hidden partially behind her teeth.
“So you think you’re cute?” he says, already knowing the answer. Of course, she is. She’s much much more than. But, she doesn’t have to know that he knows that.
Before she can respond he’s grasped a handful of snow in his hand and races towards her. She shrieks as he drops it on her head, the white crystals cascading down her hair.
They spend the next few minutes throwing snow back and forth at each other laughing or yelping depending on who the target is. In an attempt to grab more snow Shawn moved quickly and felt his feet slide out from under him.
She quickly fell to her knees beside him, “Are you okay?”
He opened his eyes to see her concerned eyes and delicate hands hovering over his shoulder.
“Yeah, yeah I’m fine,” he said looking away. Besides his ego and tailbone. It took him a second to meet her eyes, but he didn’t regret it when he did.
He met her gaze and felt a smile pull the corners of his lips up. Her eyes wide and the small, white flurries getting caught in her eyelashes and in her hair. Their eyes watched each other for what felt like hours to Shawn.
“Why are you staring at me you creep,” she laughed breaking their eye contact.
He felt his hand move up to brush the snowflakes away from her eyelashes. His thumb lightly brushing her face, but when he was done he did move his hand.
“Are you gonna keep looking at me like that or are you gonna kiss me?” She asked knowingly. She smiled, but he could tell that she was nervous.
“I mean if you want me to, I guess so,” He said coyly, teasing her.
“Oh stop, Shawn,” she cried covering her newly pink cheeks with her mittens, “I’m sorry I said anything at all.”
His hands moved to her wrists, pulling them away from her covered eyes, “I’m not.”
He leaned in and placed his lips onto hers. Despite the snow falling around them, it felt like the warmest winter Shawn had ever known.
//Iris wanted me to write something “wintery” earlier with Dook and Mitzi, so-
Oh and just a note: this is lazily written because I’m tired. :’)
I found this one prompt and I was like “Y E S-”//
“Dook–let me bury you in the snow!”
At such a sudden request from the mouse that had sidled her way behind him and hugged him from behind, Dook somewhat made a half-yelp-half-reply along with it. He attempted to turn his head to glance down at the mischievous Mitzi that had her arms locked around his plump, yet he couldn’t see anything due to the hood of his jacket blocking his view.
But before he could even ask why, she had let go of him and gave him a good shove forward into the plush snow below. He would shout, then grunt when he landed. He was quick to turn his body and sit up, but Mitzi greeted him with a pile of snow she had dumped on top of his head.
Of course, Dook’s first instinct was to shake it off. “Mitzi-!”
“Hold still, Dook! You’ll ruin it.”
And with a final sigh of defeat while another pile of snow was set atop his lap, he only leaned back against the solid snow that gathered behind him. It didn’t take long for Mitzi to dump pile upon pile of snow until all that was left of Dook was his head and his pom pom hat.
“There! I hereby call my Dookie a snowdog.” Mitzi declared proudly, turning her nose up toward the chilly white sky. She would give into a small laugh, however, making Dook grin in return. “Oh, poor Dookie’s stuck there until spring.”
Dook would then receive a kiss on the forehead, which of course left a red lipstick stain behind.
“If I was, uh–r-really stuck here ‘till spring, y-you’d never survive, Mitzi.” Dook would smirk up at her. “Who’s gonna take ya s-shoppin’ and who’s gonna help ya cook? You’re gonna get lonely, too; I can’t hold ya if I’m buried in snow.”
Mitzi would blink once, her smile slowly disintegrating into nothing. “W-wait, you’re actually stuck?”
“Well, I can’t ex-exactly move, no.”
Mitzi quickly grew quite frightened for her hound. She would swiftly lower into the snowbank she created to dig Dook out as fast as she could to his immediate mirth. Watching your girlfriend have a mini heart attack while digging him out of a snow pile was quite hilarious, to say the least.
A light pair of tiny feet patters onto his chest and up to his collar bone. Erik lifts his arm and opens one of his eyes to stare into the fluffy white face of the Charles-dove. It looks almost nothing like Charles, except for its blue eyes, and perhaps its pink beak, which could resemble the man’s beautiful red lips, if Erik squints a bit.
“We’re going to have to cancel our movie date,” he says. It’s the first thing that comes to his mind. “Pets aren’t allowed in the theatre.”
Charles plops down on his chest, cooing sadly.
AU in which Charles ignores Hank’s advice and gets turned into a ridiculously cute fluffy birb. Erik and Charles try to figure out how to turn him back while surviving domestic life together. How the hell will they get through this. Crack af
Comments: a crack fic with lots of fluff, both figuratively and literally. Includes illustrations
It’s a cold night, dry for now, but it smells like snow and Alec can see his breath fogging the air in front of his face. Magnus seems almost entirely unaffected by the weather, gesturing with his usual enthusiasm as they walk down the street (they’re on their way back from dinner, and Alec hadn’t been able to resist when Magnus suggested they walk; he knows the sooner they get back to Magnus’s the sooner this date will be over, and he wants every minute with him he can get) but Alec has both hands stuffed in his pockets and is hunching his shoulders, as if that will protect him from the gentle but freezing wind. He hadn’t thought about needing gloves when he left the Institute, or a scarf, and his jacket isn’t really warm enough for this weather by itself. He edges closer to Magnus, hoping to absorb some of his warmth by proximity, and Magnus bumps their shoulders together gently. Alec feels warmth radiate through him from that point of contact, and, impulsively, slips his hand out of his pocket and catches Magnus’s hand, lacing their fingers together. Magnus turns to him, and smiles, and for the first time since they stepped outside Alec can’t feel the cold at all.
U-Ugh this looks more melancholic than I intended… but oh well!
Playing with lightning effects and whatnot, I don’t really like it but since I’ve been working on it for a while, I might as well upload it… Aaaaah it’s almost winter breaaaaaak I just want to eat chocolate all day ;;
ur writing is amazing idk fluffy snowy winter fics would be rly cute !! or h/c nightmare fics but that could be a bit angsty ;w;
Hi Nonny! I did already do a hurt/comfort nightmare fic (here on tumblr or here on ao3) or I went with your first prompt instead. Also, apologies. I don’t think this is what you were after when you asked for a winter fic…
A cold front is going to be sweeping through the region tonight, bringing with it record breaking colds. Many schools across the area have already canceled classes for tomorrow…
“Guess whose got a snow day?” Connor all but sings as he lets himself into Oliver’s apartment. Dumping the bag and box of files on a chair, he leans over to peck Oliver’s cheek as he hops up to sit on the counter, near where Oliver’s putting the final touches on dinner.
“I’m guessing it’s you,” Oliver replies, unamused.
“Yep,” Connor grins at him and reaches over to steal Oliver’s glass of wine to take a sip. “Well, I guess it’s more a cold day. Going to be too cold out there for us poor students to walk to class.”
“What about work?” Oliver asks, turning away to pour himself another glass of wine since his wine is now Connor’s wine.
“Annalise called it off too. Told us not to come in.” He scoots off the counter and grabs some plates. “Did give each of us a ton of case law to look over,” he explains, gesturing to the box of files as he walks over to quickly set the table. “So the day isn’t going to be all fun. But still…” Connor trails off as he walks back around the counter and up behind Oliver. He grips Oliver’s hips, pulling them back so their bodies are flush, and noses behind Oliver’s ear. “Play hooky with me tomorrow.” He slips his hands under Oliver’s sweater to run over the flat planes of his stomach as lightly nips at Oliver’s earlobe. “Call in sick and spend the day staying warm with me.”
“I can’t…” Oliver says, breathlessly.
“Yes you can. It’s very simple,” Connor persists, mouthing down that delicious cord of Oliver’s neck. “You call your boss and explain that your boyfriend has plans for you tomorrow.” He shifts a little, slotting himself better against Oliver’s back and gently rolling his hips, as Oliver lets his head fall back on Connor’s shoulder. “So many plans, Oliver.”
“What…” Oliver breaks off on a whine as Connor sucks a gentle mark to the bolt of his jaw. “What kind of plans?”
“Oh, Oliver.” Connor smiles as he nips at the mark just to make Oliver moan and arch his back. Oliver grabs one of Connor’s hands slides it down and Connor hides another smile in the curve of Oliver’s shoulder, unspeakably fond. “You’ll just have to call in tomorrow to find out.”