woosh noise

agenderraskel  asked:

Could I convince you to write FrostIronWinter? All three trauma babies snuggled up together, drinking tea under a fuzzy blanket because none of them like to be cold and ever since Tony informed Loki that his accent was vaguely English; Loki has been obsessed with English culture.

You don’t have to convince me! I like WinterIron with pretty much anyone added and I’ve been a fan of those three since I read a series about them a couple of months back. (Also not sure this is what you had in mind but I tried.)

Tony wasn’t tired. Fine, maybe he was a little tired. Maybe.

Tired enough not to have heard FRIDAY announcing his visitor at least, to let out a startled “Eeeeep!” when the soldering iron is suddenly taken from his hands, set down carefully, before he’s lifted in a strong grip. Tony flails, would have called for the suit already if not for how intimately familiar the hands holding him feel.

That one of them is made of metal is a decent clue as well.

“Buuucky!“ Tony whines, squirms in an attempt to reach for his soldering iron, but the grip doesn’t let up. Instead he’s being lifted, carried away from his workstation.

It takes Tony’s brain a full two seconds to process this, which is a warning sign all on its own. But that’s besides the point.

“Bucky!” Tony calls again, sharper this time. “Let me down! I’m not a child! I don’t need you to drag me out of my workshop, I’m perfectly capable–”

Bucky doesn’t slow down, doesn’t even acknowledge Tony’s rant until they’re in the elevator and the door is closing behind them with a soft wooshing noise. Tony likes that noise. He’s had it installed into every door possible (and even a few empty doorways) just so he gets to listen to it every day.

He doesn’t like it very much right now.

“What the fuck, Bucky?!”

He’s past annoyed and gone straight to furious. He doesn’t need anyone to babysit-kidnap him and really, Bucky should know better, what the ever loving fuck–

“Loki is sad,” Bucky finally says, voice devoid of any inflection.

Yeah. Sure. Tony scowls. Like he is gonna fall for that I-was-brainwashed-by-HYDRA-now-I-can’t-talk-and-explain-my-actions-like-a-normal-person bullshit. Tony happens to know that Bucky can talk just fine. 

It’s a struggle to find the right words sometimes, but just last week when the room caved into itself around Tony, Bucky was there by his side, talking about the pros and cons of Stelena vs Delena for half an hour, just to distract him.

(Which worked fine, in case anyone is wondering. Bucky dared to suggest Stelena would be a decent option and Tony just couldn’t let that stand.)

“And what does that have to do with you kidnapping me from my workstation?” Tony snaps impatiently. Or exhausted. At this point, it’s hard to tell the difference.

A small frown curls around Bucky’s upper lip, but otherwise he remains unmoved, much to Tony’s frustration. 

“You’re the best cuddler,” is all Bucky has to say in his defence, like that is a reasonable explanation. Tony hates that he can already feel his (justified) annoyance crumbling.

Then the elevator stops, prompting Bucky to carry him towards the common living room. And–okay. As soon as Tony catches sight of Loki, he gets why Bucky interrupted workshop time.

Loki is sitting hunched over on the couch, green eyes dark with something that isn’t quite sorrow, a frown on his face that remind Tony of the day the demigod tried to brainwash him with a glow stick. Good times.

Before Tony has time to fully catalogue the signs of Loki’s distress, Bucky drops him in Loki’s lap. Literally drops him. 

Tony groans because that hurt, alright, it’s not like Loki is made of pillows and plush. Loki on the other hand seems to barely notice the sudden weight, save a quiet huff of breath. There’s no mocking, no insults, just hands clinging to Tony’s waist, and that’s how Tony knows how bad this is.

Whatever it is.

He shifts–to find a comfortable position as well as ease the dull ache in his bottom from his less than comfortable landing–curls one arm around Loki’s neck, the other one around his back. The position allows him to rest his chin on Loki’s shoulder and glare at Bucky’s blank face while simultaneously rubbing slow circles across Loki’s back.

How come Tony, who is the least mature person he has ever met, has to be the functional adult in this–whatever it is that they have?

After a long moment of glaring, Bucky finally cracks, begins to fidget restlessly. It’s better than the creepy motionlessness though. He still falls into that mask too often for Tony’s comfort.

“I don’t–” Bucky gestures helplessly, a wounded look in his eyes that conveys how much he’s struggling with the situation just fine.

“Loki is sad, Bucky,” Tony says in the calmest voice he can manage, never once breaking his (hopefully) soothing ministrations. Breaks the emotional mess down into simple words, to help Bucky regain his footing. The last thing he needs is Bucky to lash out again because being, feeling, thinking becomes too much. Simple protocols are easier for him still, sometimes.

“What do we do when people are said?”

“Make them tea,” Bucky repeats automatically, then turns towards the kitchen to do exactly that.

Really, whoever thought Tony would be the right person to help a brainwashed prisoner of war to become a human being again should be shot. Or at the very least subjected to Bucky’s When-people-are-happy-we-bake-them-something-sweet cakes. Baking was still on the To Be Improved list, and for good reason.

“You alright, Mr Evil Overlord?” Tony murmurs once he’s certain Bucky doesn’t try to go off and kidnap a clown to lift the mood. Again.

Loki huffs a laugh under his breath but stays otherwise quiet, which is so unlike him that Tony feels a twinge of genuine worry in his chest. Which sucks. Tony doesn’t approve of genuine emotions at all.

“I am fine,” Loki murmurs after another moment, his grip on Tony tightening momentarily before easing into what an uninformed bystander might call ‘affectionate’.

Tony doesn’t know what he’s supposed to call it. He buries his face in Loki’s chest instead.

He waits for Loki to continue, but he doesn’t say anything. Tony finds himself listening to the sounds of Bucky moving around in the kitchen, the steady beat of Loki’s heart, their breathing. It’s…


Then Bucky joins them with three steaming mugs of tea. Tony wrinkles his nose, eyes the cups suspiciously. Everyone knows he prefers coffee.

Honestly, he’d suspect the two of them were just trying to lure him out of his workshop, if not for how upset Bucky was. As much as Loki likes messing with them, he’d never take it so far. Not over something as silly as cuddling.

“You’re not gonna talk about it, are you?” Tony mumbles around a careful sip of tea–though Bucky knows better by now than to hand him anything hot enough to burn his tongue.

Loki blinks, the picture of clueless innocence. He arches an eyebrow at Tony and really, how the demigod can hold a cup of tea that regally while Tony is stretched out over his lap is a mystery.

“I have no idea what you are referring to, Anthony,” Loki says with a masterfully added edge of curiosity. As though he hadn’t sunken back into that strange state of utter stillness, so similar to Bucky’s own behaviour from time to time, that never fails to freak Bucky and Tony out. 

“Of course you don’t.” Tony makes no effort to hide his eye-roll. “Now come on, Winter Boy, cuddle me!” he demands when Bucky doesn’t join them, remains standing instead. “I need at least two cuddle buddies at all times!”

Sometimes the closeness is too much for Bucky, sometimes he’s just insecure. Tony can never tell what it is, so as always he pushes and waits to be told to back off. 

It doesn’t happen this time.

Instead Bucky carefully sets his tea down on the small coffee table and sits down next to Loki, so close that their shoulders are brushing against each other. Pulls Tony’s feet into his lap until he lies sprawled across them (thankfully Loki’s quick reflexes save Tony’s cup of tea).

Then Loki’s slender fingers sneak into Tony’s hair, skilfully card through the curls–he needs a hair cut–and massage the skin beneath. Tony can feel himself melting into the gentle touches, turns until his face is buried in Loki’s stomach, Bucky’s hand resting on his hip, anchoring him. And with a sigh of pure bliss Tony closes his eyes and relaxes. Lets go of a tension he hadn’t even realised he has been holding in him.

Sleep comes easily after that. It always does, with Loki and Bucky close to him. Steady and dangerous and maddeningly complex and safe.

Okay, that’s it for now. I hope you all like it, especially of course @agenderraskel! Basically (because I’m not sure I conveyed that very well) Loki had some sort of panic attack/flashback/terrible mood and Bucky doesn’t know how to cheer him up so he places a Tony in his lap. I thought it was kinda cute but I also was ready to go to sleep an hour ago so I might not be the best judge right now.

Also Stelena/Delena is a Vampire Diaries reference I won’t apologise for. It was the first show that came to mind *shrug* I don’t mind either pairing by the way, so in case anyone has strong opinions, I’m not trying to bash Stelena. Bucky just needed to distract Tony for a while.


i sort of like the headcanon that godtiers brains are just totally saturated with their aspect and they have to get used to loads of new senses and feelings and instincts when they become gods 


john suddenly being able to sense every movement and change in atmospherics, his head constantly full of wooshing white noise, always sensing when movement and progression is being prevented, sensing stagnation, feeling claustrophic when he cant feel the wind

rose having to deal with the constant sense of a sort of de ja vu but for things havent happened yet, tiny whispers and maddening glimpses, sometimes literal whispers, unnerving and from frightening otherworldy forces, constantly weighing and sifting and deciphering all possibilities and fortunes, the weight of the world on her shoulders. no wonder she tries to obfuscate her knowledge, slowing and stifling her mind with drink

daves head being full of the ticking of infinite clocks, some slowing, reversing, even stopping, especially when there are multiple versions of himself around. he has a nauseating sense of inevitability when something must be, and an unexplained dread when the timeline goes wrong, physically feeling the flow of time, feeling doomed selves like phantom limbs. so he puts on his headphones, turns his music up loud, trying to isolate one steady rhythm to ground himself in the chaos.

jade of course constantly being aware of space - movement, stillness, placement - to teleport like that she must be constantly aware of all points in space at any given time. she feels the weight and force and energy of everything. manipulating objects requires an implicit, instinctive and yet unbelievably scientific and mathematical grasp over the object. for every item she shrinks she feels as though she takes on the weight and mass she took from it. anything she creates or causes to grow saps her mental strength and energy and stretches her to exhausting levels. she can sense the enormity of reality, the universe, and how small she is despite her power.

jane feeling an echo of the wounds and sicknesses of those around her, grass growing under her feet, each time she heals she feels the pain of the wound. she is drained when she heals, having to pass her energy and life on to someone else. all absense of life is felt like an unbearable chill boring away at her soul, even a dead potplant can give the overpowering sense of loss and ruined potential.

jake feeling hope, but being absolutely wrecked by each pitfall. seeing the possibility in everything, but when it is denied it hurts like a punch in the gut, makes the world around him feel smaller until it seems like a sealed darkened box. overcoming and staying resilient almost feels like a feature of his being that is out of his control, others using his hope to find their strength, utilising him as a medium. he wants to act and fight but the light is blinding and confusing, the possibilties too great, he has to struggle to see a path so as not to become passive. sometimes it is just easier to hide from the light.

dirk’s tendancy toward a searching, burning destructive curiosity intensifies, a thirst to pull apart and understand everyone around him, but with no solution as to how to put them back together again. its a compulsion. he can feel peoples identities, their sense of selves, cracks and weak spots and insecurities and lies. he can feel how fragile people are, constantly aware of the one push they need that could destroy them. every person feels like a precarious pile of random objects, constantly teetering. some people have already collapsed and splintered and broken - himself included - and he feels that too, uncomfortable tears and splits and displacements, but as a Prince only feels capable of destroying, not healing.

roxy can sense lack and loss. she always has a peculiar feeling of detachment, like part of her is elsewhere, as she is constantly reaching out to find something, whatever it is thats missing. constantly yearning. she very much feels like a medium, like her body is out there somewhere, physically wandering and searching for what is needed. finding it and pulling it into reality takes her energy, similar to jade.sometimes after periods of searching it feels as if she herself will be lost in the void forever. perhaps a part of her always will be. she senses need and loss around her and is desperate to help but is forced to blindly grasp in pitch blackness until she allows herself to succumb and become one with nothingness.

anonymous asked:

every time i play the gladio dlc, i always picture gilgamesh being like "I AM THE BLADEMASTER, MASTER OF THE BLADES" and cor being like "BAHAMUT QUIVERS BEFORE HIM" lololol

*wooshing noises* “FUCK OFF”

starry-athxna  asked:

Hello! Idk if it's open but may i ask a Aomine + atsushi (seperate) scenario of playing with their baby boy along with their wife

Hello! Here it is, I hope you like it!

Aomine: As soon as your son could walk Aomine had gotten him one of those small kiddie basketball and basketball net sets. Despite your efforts, you weren’t able to convince Aomine to stop encouraging your son to do as he did when he performed his formless shot on the tiny sports set.

“Daiki, he’s only a year old he doesnt know how to get into the zone…”

Murasakibara: It always made you smile when all three of you were just sitting around together. Murasakibara would randomly pick up your son and hold him high up in the air above his head making little woosh noises, pretending the little boy was a plane as your son erupted into a fit of giggles every time. Of course your own motherly instincts would be sure to make themselves known.

“Atsushi, be careful not to drop him”

[[rough but coming soon]]

Bright lights flashing, one after the other, onto the panel’s face. The cameras clicking and the crowd hot, ready for the newest information from the hottest cast of the biggest series of movies yet: Kuroshitsuji. Aka, Black Butler. Sebastian adjusts his sunglasses, smirking over at Ciel who is in the middle of answering a question.

“We are so very humbled by such a crowd, thank you again for taking the time to interview us all. But yes, to continue my statement, we are glad the Book of Murder movies had such a big turn out. I am so excited to get started on the next project.”

“Mr. Phantomhive-”

“Please, call me Ciel.”

The crowd swoons, Ciel’s charms only making Sebastian’s smirk even more prominent.

“Y-yes, Ciel then.. The next movie will be Book of the Atlantic. How have you prepared yourselves for such a brutal arc?”

“Ah, good question. Well, you see, Sebastian and I already spend a lot of time… swimming, if I may”

Chuckles from the crowd as cameras flash even quicker now, Sebastian and Ciel playing off of each other’s “bond” for the sole purpose of publicity. Whether it was real or not had not been confirmed yet but it certainly got a rise out of the crowd every time.

“Excuse me, I have a question for Sebastian.”

Sebastian adjusts his sunglasses, “Of course, my dear lady.”

“Is it true that although you are all actors in the Black Butler series, the character names are actually your names?”

“Ah, yes indeed. The creator of Kuroshitsuji originally wrote the first arc in a journal with, believe it or not, no solid names. Just a few to toss back and forth. Upon her producer reading it and deciding it was gold, the most important task for her was finding who to play the roles. When I auditioned, she asked my name. I was the first cast and naturally, she decided from there on that to keep the story most organic, we were all to have our own names.”

“So I was able to keep mine, Ciel Phantomhive, and he, of course, introduced himself as-”

Sebastian leans into the mic, lowering his sunglasses to give a sultry glare to the cameras, “One hell of a butler.”

“I hate press conferences,” Ciel undoes the ribbon at his throat, Sebastian walking behind him as they return to a single dressing room.

“It’s good for the new movie.”

“I suppose…”

“You look tired. Have you been getting enough rest?”


“Are you still having night ter-”

“Sebastian. Why are you even in my dressing room?”

“Hmm,” Sebastian looks around before coming to hold Ciel’s chin up, “I suppose I’ve gotten used to following around a pompous little lord.”

“Suppose, huh?”

Sebastian stares down at Ciel’s face, the dark circles under his eyes, frowning from the memory of the first time he heard Ciel wake in a panic. They had been staying in a hotel room together while filming Book of Circus. He knew exactly what left those shades of gray underneath those blue eyes.

“I am only worried.”

“Well you shouldn’t be,” Ciel removes Sebastian’s hand, biting the inside of his cheek as he turns away, “you know what the producers will say if you worry too much.”

“I don’t care-”

“I do!”


“Sebastian, for the sake of the movies, for the sake of Kuroshitsuji’s fame and reputation, we are not allowed to get close. Not even this close. Do you understand that?”

“There is nothing wrong with-”

“DO you understand that?”

Sebastian tightens his hands into fists as he watches Ciel’s back, knowing all too well the pained face the boy probably wore. He steps back, his coat making a woosh noise as he gets down on one knee. Ciel turns around, looking at him incredulously as Sebastian’s face twists with mockery as his eyes burn with angry passion while he spits out the phrase “Of course… my lord.”

When Sebastian rises and the door to Ciel’s dressing room slams shut, he runs to it, hitting it as hard as he can out of frustration, “That..that damned..freak!”

Sebastian listens from the other side, listens to Ciel slumping against the door before pushing off to walk away.

He struts down the hallway, “For the sake of Kuroshitsuji’s reputation, huh?”

Sebastian snarls as he leaves his only interest behind, Ciel staring into the mirror at his sleepless eyes.

“For the sake of Kuroshitsuji’s reputation…”

“Ciel!” The door swings open to reveal Soma and Lizzy, “the next panel is ready for you two. Come on, let’s get moving. Are you alright?”

“Sure,” Ciel straightens himself, coming into the hall to see Sebastian in the distance, staring right at him, “I’m always alright. For the sake of Kuroshitusji’s reputation.”

Acting is hard, especially when you are falling for your co-host. But what happens when one cannot admit their feelings to the other for the fear of losing their jobs, due to the threats of some very strict producers that keep the two away from each other at all costs? The amount of money Black Butler would lose if word got out that the two were dating would hurt the series tremendously, due to probable homophobic watchers as well as the older crowd that watches for the “Storyline.” Not to mention the tremendous age gap.

Follow the cast of Kuroshitsuji with their behind the scene antics through arc after arc, revealing one love story after another. The good laughs, the faces the close cast makes when they pull up fanfics about one another, the times they share.. and the troubles they come across. The mountains two actors must climb in order to be with one another. Taboo, betrayal, a forbidden backstage rendezvous…

Join the cast of Kuroshitsuji/Black Butler in…

Kuroshitsuji: Unscripted”

anonymous asked:

I just imagine derek is having a bad day and stiles can tell and he wants to make it better or at least get derek to crack a smile and so he goes to derek's rool and grabs the softest blanket from the bed and walks back into the living room and spreads the blanket flat on the floor and he's all "come on big guy i'm gonna recreate a womb-like environment for you" and derek stares at him and is all "that's for newborns, stiles..." "well it's worth a shot anyway, get in the blanket" (pt1)

And so derek sighs but gets up and lays down on the blanket and stiles swaddles the fuck out of him and when he’s done derek is bundled up tight and stiles can tell he’s trying not to smile “should i make the wooshing noises?” Stiles asks and Derek cant help but let out a small laugh “dont you dare” and it’s beautiful and perfect and silly but derek feel better and that’s all stiles wanted (pt2)

*clutches heart* this is the best thing i’ve ever read, i have actual tears in my eyes. bless ;; <3

  • the vault dweller: i have an important mission i must fulfill
  • the chosen one: i have an important destiny i must fulfill
  • the lone wanderer: i have an important dad i must find
  • the courier: [doing roundhouse kicks and making wooshing noises in the middle of the mojave to a radio playing "ain't that a kick in the head"]

#137 Reposted 12oct17

As is traditional, the main character is completely unqualified to solve the problem. Remember when Luke Skywalker was sitting around on the farm making “woosh” noises with his toy airplanes? Obviously he was the one who should fight the empire.

Fantasy stories work so much better in a pseudo-medieval setting. The anarchy of no central government allows for the characters to reasonably take matters into their own hands. In a more modern world, the dragon would be dealt with by the military, or the dark wizard prosecuted. That might make a fun D&D setting.

Hell Iced Over

Eric’s cold.

He’s on his side, knees tucked up to his chin and arms around his shins, eyes squeezed shut and bracing for impact.

And he feels cold, a little wet.

Last thing he knew he was on the football field, struggling to catch his breath as Brandon, the biggest boy on the team, charged him. But Eric doesn’t feel grass under him, or the sun overhead. He doesn’t hear the chatter of the crowd or the the ref’s whistle or Coach yelling after him.

He cracks one eye open, then the next. A different kind of cold sinks through him.

This isn’t the field, and the light above him hangs from a metal ceiling. The smell is one he can’t place, has nothing to even compare it to. He sits up, only now noticing he’s still in his pads and helmet, putting his hands down to push himself, and he realizes now he’s on ice. It stings his palms, but curiosity keeps them in place; he’s never felt this much ice at once.

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bitty’s sad.

nobody notices at first, too caught up with studying for finals and daily practise at the rink to spare a thought as to why bitty seems a little bit quieter than usual. lardo notices first, asks him if he’s okay, but he fixes her with an embarrassed smile and a shrug.

‘just tired,’ he says, and she’s not sure she believes that’s all, but she figures if there’s anything serious going on he’ll come to her when he’s ready.

another week goes by, and bitty withdraws a little more into himself every day. he still bakes, just enough for no one to get suspicious, but his smiles are brittle and they shatter into nothing when he’s alone. there’s a weird mood in the haus as though the walls can feel what’s happening, but bitty puts up such a convincing front no one can quite put their finger on what’s wrong.

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anyway I’ve been thinking a lot about trans guy Ben Solo 

Birth name Breha Padme Solo, after both Leia’s mothers. 

And almost as soon as he could speak he told them there’d been a mistake, he was a boy and he didn’t want that name. 

And he’d grown up the darling of the Rebels-turned-Resistance, and ESPECIALLY his parents and uncles. So he’d heard the story of the rebellion a thousand times, but every single time he listened quietly with shining eyes. 

And maybe he’d leaned up against Uncle Chewy’s soft, warm side, and been told about how Obi Wan had sacrificed himself for the sake of losing the Death Star, because Uncle Chewy was frank and honest and told him about the world as it was. And told him about the people who’d been lost so that he could come to be. 

And maybe he’d sat on Uncle Luke’s knee and been told about the man who trained him, who brought back the Jedi legacy with his uncle. And been told that that legacy would carry on with him. 

Maybe he’d waved sticks around making wooshing noises, pretending they were lightsabers. Maybe he’d grown up enamored of the Jedi legacy, of the Force that thrummed around and within him. 

So he told them, chin high and shoulders squared, that his name was Ben. And they’d kissed his chubby cheeks and told him that he could be anything and anyone that he wanted, but especially who he was on the inside. 

And Luke had held him close and told him how proud he was, how it’d taken HIM longer to realize. Luke smiled at him and told him that he was living proof that he’d be okay. 

And maybe later on he’d regretted his choice, and wished that he’d chosen Anakin. 

But he was Kylo Ren by then. So it really didn’t matter anymore. 

Those jokes were horrible, Barnes

Bucky x Reader

Requested by anon: hi, can i request for a flirty&teasing!Bucky Barnes x reader? (cocky bucky gives me life) but when the reader finally teases/flirts back, he gets flustered because he doesn’t expect it? there is not enough of these and i’ve been dying to read one for so looooong

Word Count: 1,751

Authors Note: oh God, I’m so sorry this took me so long :( please don’t hate me, I am but one person and school is ending soon my teachers are loading up on the projects

Originally posted by bbuchanann

The soft hum of the microwave filled the silent kitchen. Steve stood in front of it, and watched as his coffee cup spun around in circles. You sat silently at the table, scrolling through the news on your phone and munching on your cereal. The microwaved beeped, signaling that Steve’s drink was done. He quickly grabbed the steaming mug and ran to the table, setting it down as soon as he got there. A little bit spilled onto his hands and you could hear him mutter a string of curse words before licking it off his hands. He quickly rinsed off his hands, and pulled the chair out from next to you so he could sit. You slid him the other bowl of cereal that was resting on the table, and he happily began to eat it.

“Ugh,” he moaned, “nothing like sleeping in and eating a nice bowl of cheerios. I could get used to this.”

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I was just playing Life Is Strange when I accidentally knocked over a stack of papers irl so jokingly I put my hand up and said “rewind time!” and my girlfriend who was sitting next to me made backwardsy wooshing noises and put the pile back together it was cute

I just love the idea that Tony sneaks into Steve’s room when he isn’t around and tries on all of his costumes that are just too big for him, but he likes them a bit baggy. 

Whenever he goes in he seems to regress back to his 10 year old self, pulling the best action poses, flapping around in sleeves that are too long for him and pretending that he’s Captain America. 

One day Steve goes to Tony’s lab, sees he isn’t there but notices the security camera of the hallway outside Steve’s room and he sees Tony run around making loud WOOSH noises. He keeps the secret entirely to himself and doesn’t let Tony knows that he caught him. 

But one day Tony sneaks in again and sees a uniform he’s never seen before with a note pinned to it; turns out Steve asked Janet to make a Captain America costume a couple of sizes smaller to perfectly fit Tony. The note reads; “It looks good on you.” 

#3 Snow

Day 3 of the Sabriel Advent calender! (shh I know it’s a day late). The theme of today’s drabble is snow, and it’s a gift for the cutest little bunny @syzygycas

Gabriel was an archangel, millennials old, but even he loved the snow, much to Sam’s surprise. So when they woke up one morning tangled together in Sam’s bed, and Gabriel had caught a glimpse of the white-coated world Sam had honestly never seen the celestial being move faster before noon.

 “C’mon Sam! Snowing!” Gabriel grinned, dragging his jeans on, throwing a thick plaid shirt at Sam.

 “Okay, coming, but why’re you so excited?” he chuckled, watching the angel pull a dark turtleneck over his head and he was greeted by a messy haired scowl once Gabriel and the sweater were done arguing.

 “Because the snow is so much fun and it’s so pure and kinda glittery, kinda like your soul. Stop talking and start coming Sammy, jeez.” he huffed, stepping into his boots and yanking at the laces. Sam let out a slow ‘be patient Samuel’ sigh and got up, donning the plaid that’d been launched at him.

The layer of snow on the ground was thick, coming up over their ankles and Gabriel bent down to pick up a handful, pressing it into a snowball that he threw as far as he would, it making a loud long woosh noise as it flew, the air crisp and still. Sam chuckled as he saw some pawprints as short space away that were obviously caused by some small animal that’d decided that no, it was too cold.

Sam honestly had never found anything more beautiful than watching Gabriel just stand there staring up at the sky, the small flakes landing and staying on his nose and eyelashes. Gabriel seemed mesmerised by the sky, the pale blue of it and the falling snow. Gabriel’s nose was going red, as were his cheeks but he didn’t seem to care. He just tightened his grip on the scarf he was wearing and shook his head, dislodging the snow from his hair.

 “Say, Gabe?”

 “Mmm?” He leant back into Sam and looked at him for a second before looking back up at the sky.

 “Why are you so fascinated by snow?” he wrapped his arms around the smaller man’s waist.

 “‘cause it’s pretty.” he whispered, sticking his tongue out to catch a flake. “I like the fleetingness of it. The way it’s here, then it’s gone.” he leant back into Sam. “So many things are better in the long run - like sunshine, lollipops or you. But snow? Snow’s good in short amounts. Keeps the fun alive.” Sam bent down, nuzzling at Gabriel’s ear before kissing it softly.

 “And you’re always one for fun aren’t you my little trickster.” Sam’s question was answered by a snowball miraculously finding its way down the back of his shirt at high speeds.

Lotus- Chapter Three

Note- Sorry for the delay on this everyone! It took me awhile to get it exactly the way I wanted it, and I figured that it was better to actually take my time and get it right rather than rush it and have it not turn out as well. As always thank you to everyone who liked/reblogged/sent in asks about the last chapter! I hope you all enjoy this one just as much.

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