#i’m writings this outside!!!! and it’s snowing!!!!! tons of snowflakes on me!!!!!!!

[sunriseindigo]

❄️❄️❄️❄️

#dra #danganronpa another #fanganronpa #mikako kurokawa #danganronpa another despair academy #multimedia #watercolors #crayola markers #colored pencil #winter colors #wintercore #I FUKCIHG. LOVE WINTER #i am so tired of pretending i don’t if it wasn’t for spring it’d be my fav #i’m writings this outside!!!! and it’s snowing!!!!! tons of snowflakes on me!!!!!!!

[the-jarvy-party2]

5 Feet of Snow; S. Jarvis 

This is written for the @ghostyjosty 2.2k writing challenge! I’ve rewritten this 5 times for optimal perfection. Enjoy! <3

Seth Jarvis x Reader; dancing with their hands holding onto each other / Definitely a blurb :))

Warnings; Cursing

🌨 Raleigh got hit with their biggest snowstorm yet. Well.. since 2000. And nobody was prepared. Except Sebastian Aho with a huge radio.

-> 🌨 ->

I absolutely loved seeing that there was a blizzard warning until the 31st. Growing up in North Carolina, snow wouldn’t be real snow. It would be slush and be gone before the sun even had time to travel it’s heat to the Earth.

Tonight it was supposed snow so much it would topple over me. Or Andrei.

I stayed over at Sebastian Ahos house, he had snow tires to drive me home. His car was a sedan though, so I don’t know how that would work.

And my favorite person was at Sebastian’s house — that’s also another reason I came.

“I wanted to bring something over, but the grocery store was like a crime scene.” I set my coat on the rack and get some snowflakes off my hair.

“Yeah, I know we tried to get bread. There was none. So we got yeast packets!“ Sebastian grabs one and shakes it in the air.

“How many did you get?” I look over at the kitchen to see like 6 boxes of active dry yeast. Were they gonna make sourdough starter under the sink?

“6 boxes, they have like 10 each. I absolutely love baking banana bread.” Sebastian sets the packet down.

“That’s pretty cool! My apartment has absolutely no food. Well, except pasta but it was the little spiral and I fucking hate those.”

->

The snow was covering half the window and the power started to flicker.

“I realized you don’t have a second coat here, and you might not be able to get home..” Seth taps my shoulder and I smile.

“Oh no, no I’m fi-“ The power completely goes off and the cold air from outside started to come in. “Im fine.”

“Okay.. let me know when you need it.”

->

Who knew 26 (F) degrees could be so cold??

Anyways, the temperature in Sebastian’s house was at 47. I’d have to take up the offer on that hoodie soon.

“This radio has signal to Finland! There’s a huge game today.” Sebastian grabs a huge radio and sets it on the coffee table.

“That thing is bigger than my moms TV in the 90s.” I flip the handle back and he screams.

“No! Don’t touch it, I only use it for the World Juniors. It was also like a fuck ton of money.”

I laugh and Sebastian sets the station. It was in Finnish but Finland was probably winning by the sound of it.

“Who’s-“ Seth sits next to me and Sebastian interrupts him.

“SHUSH 👹” He looks over at us.

“I’d like to take you up on the offer.” I put my hands over my forearms. Seth goes up and grabs the sweatshirt.

“Here you go, I got like 20 more in my closet if you need it.”

“Nope I’m good.” I smile.

->

“What? No! Cmon!” Sebastian bangs the radio, it started playing some type of Jazz. “Right as they were about to win!” 

I stand up and grab my bag.

“I’m gonna go, use the sound waves to let me know when to come back.” I walk out the door and try to walk through the snow.

The snow was already up to my knees, Seth came running out and he grabs me, pulling me into a hug.

The snow started to pick up, it was windy and I’m pretty sure I was completely covered in snow.

I hug him back and I could still hear Sebastian screaming about the music. It only changed the station to a classic music one.

The snow started getting higher, and wearing jeans with some rips in them wasn’t a wise choice.

I start to sway to the music, you know.. to forget that I might have no legs tomorrow.

“Could’ve just asked to dance.” He looks at me and I shake my head.

“Nope,” I smile. “This is definitely better.”

->

Sorry this is so short, I’m literally finishing this at 10:42 PM on December 31st. I really did draft this several times so it isn’t just some random story I put together. Also always ask for consent to dance with someone. :))

#nhl hockey #carolina hurricanes #hockey #nhl imagine #nhl fanfiction #nhl writing #seth jarvis #let it snow #blizzard #nhl fluff #nhl x reader #nhl blurb

[exploradora-writes]

Fireside Love: An Arthur x Charlotte Fic (18+ Only)

Warnings: NSFW, wholesome smut 

Summary:  During a snowstorm, Arthur and Charlotte decide to use their time cooped up in their cabin wisely.

Word Count: 3,455

Notes: Thank you @the-halo-of-my-memory​  and @unpocowboys​ for helping me out with this fic. The both of you are very talented writers! I plan on writing more Charlotte and Arthur fics in the future. These two are one of my favorite comfort couples, so I wanted to make a spicy yet cozy fic about them. Warning: Tons of wholesome smut ahead...

This fic can also be found on my AO3 under exploradora_writes

The first frost flakes began to stick to the window, the kitchen gradually becoming colder as snowflakes began to fall from the pitch black sky outside. 

Charlotte sighed, tossing another log into the stove, her stew stubbornly refusing to boil. She glanced at the woodpile, the three tiny logs lying there in an almost mocking sort of way. 

The clouds blocked out much of the sunlight, but she knew it would be dark soon. She held onto the counter, trying her hardest not to think of the worst, but she couldn’t help it.

He could be lost, stranded with no direction, no food, no warmth.

She shook her head, coming to her senses. Arthur may view himself as nothing but muscle and absolutely no brain, but as his wife, she knew better. He had an excellent sense of direction and survival skills. Any minute he’d be through that door with a load of firewood, and maybe even an animal or two.

She asked if she could come. Two heads were better than one, she tried to reason.

“No, darlin’, as much as I’d love to go with you, I need you stayin’ home and watchin’ over the house, keepin’ it warm. Wouldn’t want any strangers takin’ residence while we’re gone, would we?”

More than one weary traveller, some more hostile than others, had taken up residence in their home on more than one occasion while the two of them were off on hunting trips. While she understood where Arthur was coming from, she couldn’t escape her fear of the worst. She’d already lost one of the men she loved dearly to the harsh conditions of nature, she couldn’t bear to lose another one.

Her motionless broth seemed to stare back up at her as it refused to boil. “You ain’t making this easy for me, broth.”

Talking to an inanimate substance? The snow really was making her stir crazy. Arthur had better hurry up before I start talking to the logs, she thought. 

Figuring the broth was nowhere near boiling over, she took those three pathetic logs sitting on the woodpile and tossed them in the fireplace. She looked around for a match, lit it with a satisfying strike, and tossed it on the pile. The flames licked up the logs, but Charlotte knew it couldn’t last long. She lay back on a chair in the kitchen, staring into the flames of the fire. She smiled, her eyes following the flames as they danced along the logs, remembering all those years ago when her and Arthur danced around the campfire on their little outdoor honeymoon getaway. They drank and sang and made love their fair share of times by the roaring flames of the fire. Sure, it was no fancy trip in the big city, but it was simple and memorable. 

Unfortunately, the fire before her sounded more of a purr as opposed to a roar. She let out another sigh, looking back at the empty woodpile, longing for her strong handsome woodsman to return.  

As if on cue, she heard the door handle jiggle, as the man she had been longing to see emerged from the snowy darkness outside. 

“Arthur!” She arose, practically pouncing on him. He moved his scarf away from his cherry red face, panting from the effort of carrying.. firewood. Loads of it. Charlotte sighed with relief at the sight, wrapping her arms around him. She didn’t care that he was like an icicle, nor that she would get wet from the snow that dusted his wooly blue coat. Her hands met his face, cold despite the large beard he sported. Her lips met his, her warm pink lips melting his icy blue ones. 

“Charlotte,” he breathed. “Glad I made it in time. Bundle up and help me haul in some of this wood. I have a feelin’ this is only the beginin’ of this snow storm.” 

She threw on a sweater, a coat, and a pair of boots. She opened the door to the dark depths of the winter night. The bitter cold nipped at her entire body despite being bundled up head to toe. She tried to imagine how good the fire would feel against her and her lover’s bodies once they were in the warmth of their little home. 

Arthur had made quite the haul. Firewood, some supplies from the general store, and even a deer. She smiled, feeling her body warm up as she thought of how wonderful and lucky she was to have a man like him. 

They fought against the wind back into the house. It took the strength of the two of them to even get the door closed. They both panted and fell against each other. 

“Well, we best get cozy, darlin.’ We’re gonna be here awhile.” Arthur said, removing his snow covered clothes. 

Charlotte returned to the kitchen, the pot of broth finally showing signs that it was preparing to boil. She threw another log on the stove for good measure. 

Arthur came up behind her and kissed her cheek, his cold lips sending a shiver down her spine. “How’s everything comin’ along?”

She smiled as the both began to boil. “Rather nicely now that you’ve returned, cowboy.”

“Hmmm I figured I’d have the opposite effect. My coldness would ruin any hopes of ever makin’ a good meal.”

“Quite the contrary, Mr. Morgan.” She stirred in the ingredients: savory chicken, carrots, onions, and peas. “Because I think you’re so hot, you make pots boil. You made mine boil when you walked through that door.” She looked back at him, stirring the pot in lazy circles. “Cheeks still rosy from the cold?”

“Er, yeah,” he fumbled, “you could say that.” 

She rubbed his face, running her fingers through his beard. “You hungry?”

His hands ran along her hips. “Starvin’..” 

“We could eat in front of the fire if you’d like. It’d be a nice change, don’t you think?” 

“Sure, sounds cozy.” He gave her hips one last squeeze before getting two bowls from the above cabinets. “Smells delicious.’”

“You talking about the soup or are you talking about me, dear?” She gave him a small smile. 

“Can’t I be talking about both?” Like a magnetic attraction, his hands were back on her hips.

“Goodness you’re handsy tonight!” She giggled. “Alright, soup’s on.”

He gave her cheek a quick peck before serving himself a large bowl of soup. She unwrapped some bread she had been saving for tonight and placed it in each of their bowls. They brought their meals over to the fireplace, sitting in front of it. 

Arthur took a sip, his body quickly warming up from the combination of the fire and the broth. He let out a satisfied groan. “This soup’s real good, sweetheart.”

“Well I’m glad you think so,” she beamed. “I always worry I’ll muck something up.”

“That’d be pretty hard for you to do, Char.” He smiled at her, motioning for her to sit closer to him. She obliged, cosying up to him and resting her head on his shoulder.

The sounds of the crackling fire and the slurping of soup filled the room. Arthur tipped his bowl back, finishing the rest of the broth. He let out a satisfied sigh and took Charlotte’s bowl as well, putting them next to the sink to be washed. He’ll clean up eventually, he thought. Right now all he wanted to do was warm up his wonderful wife.

  He changed into his union suit, catching a glimpse outside the window. The snow came down with a vengeance. He grabbed a log from the pile and tossed it into the dying flames. The fire continued to dwindle. 

“Goddamm it,” he muttered, bending over to grab the poker and stir the ashes around. He felt the familiar sensation of a hand giving his behind a light smack. He turned around, his wife looking around, a mischievous grin plastered on her face. 

He arched an eyebrow. “Was that really necessary, darlin’?”

“Was what necessary?” She tried looking away, but try as she might, her lips continued to curl into a smile.

“You know damn well what I’m talkin’ about, missy. Your hand just loves smackin’ my ass, don’t it?” 

“That is quite the accusation, Mr. Morgan!”

“I oughtta smack YOU on the ass.”

She smirked, tilting her head. “Well? What’s stopping you?”

He studied her for a second, then knelt down next to her. “Goddamn, have you always been this naughty?”

“Always have, always will be. It’s one of the reasons you married me, remember?” She lay back on the carpet. “Now get me a blanket, would you, darling? It’s freezing in here.”

He sighed, tossing her a few blankets. He tossed another log on the fire, then lay next to her. He wrapped his arms around her as she shivered against him. He scooted the two of them closer to the fire. “There, now that’s better.”

She nuzzled against his chest and yawned. “Arthur?”

“Hmm?” He looked down at her.

“How long do you think we’ll be in here? Waiting out this storm?”

He looked outside again, the snow showing no signs of stopping. “Awhile. Don’t know how long exactly, but we’ve survived much worse. ‘Sides, I stocked up on food and supplies, we’ll be fine.

She sighed, looking up at him and kissing his cheek. “Well, we’ve got plenty of time, what should we do to pass it?”

He chuckled. “Well, there’s always dominoes, and redecoratin’, and we can always be workin’ on our marriage.”

“Oh? And how exactly do you want to work on that?” She held his hand, circling his palm with her thumb.

“Well, when’s the last time we’ve had to ourselves like this? Seems like we’re always busy with housework, farmwork, all kinds of work. This is a good opportunity for us to just… be in each other’s presence.”

She hummed against his chest. “Sounds wonderful.”

The flames of the fire crackled, and Charlotte let out a small, breathy laugh.

“What’s so funny?” Arthur asked.

“Oh just remembering our little honeymoon.”

Arthur smiled as the memories came flooding back. “That little camping trip.”

“Yes! Remember, out on the lake?”

“How could I forget? We tipped the whole damn canoe over!” He laughed, rocking back and forth and waving his arms around dramatically, reenacting the fateful moment. 

The two of them collapsed on the floor in a heap of giggles, cuddling up to each other to trap the warmth again as their laughter died down. Charlotte looked into the flames of the fire, a small smile on her face. “And the campfire,” she mused. “Illuminated the entire night sky. Millions of tiny stars, looking down at us.”

Arthur chuckled. “Yeah, I remember.Them crickets were noisy sons of bitches, weren’t they?”

“I think they thought the same thing about us, dear.” She ran her hands along his chest, gazing into his blue eyes that perfectly complimented his rosy cheeks. 

“Darlin’, you were the one makin’ all the noise,” he said in a low tone.

She sighed, resting her head against his chest. “You’re right, you always were a good lover.”

He rubbed her back, gazing into the flames as well. “You know, we could alway reenact that night. If you’re up to it that is.”

She smirked, smooching his cheek. “I thought you’d never ask,” she whispered in his ear, giving it a small nip. He let a gasp escape his lips.

“Jesus, darlin’.” His lips met hers as he gracefully flipped her onto her back. “I was on top, remember?” He pinned her wrists to the soft, welcoming rug beneath them. It was her turn to let out a gasp. A bead of sweat dripped down her brow, the weight of her husband’s warm body causing blood to rush throughout her entire being. 

She kissed his neck and moaned. “Are you sure I wasn’t the one on top?” She wrapped her legs around his torso and twisted her body around and caught him off guard. Arthur grunted, his wife now the one staring down at him. 

He couldn’t help but chuckle. Who knew such a typically mild mannered woman could have the drive and spunk of a working girl? He felt himself growing stiff beneath her. 

“No, darlin’, you’ve got it all wrong, remember? You were on top when we was by the lake, after we went skinny dippin’. I remember ‘cause the rocks were diggin’ into my back, but hell, it was worth is just to watch myself disappear inside of you over and over again.”

Warmth flooded her core as she began to grind against his leg. “Well, which was it, Arthur? Make up your mind before...before I..” She buried her face in the crook of his neck and moaned.

“Look at you…” he chuckled. “You gonna cum before I’m even inside you?” 

She shook her head. 

“Thought not. Goddamn, you must be soaked.” He held her against him and kissed her lips. He lay her back down against the soft texture of the rug, his hands exploring her body, as they had on that fateful night. “Now it’s all comin’ back to me. You were lyin’ there, the light of the fire dancin’ across your nude body…” His hands played with the straps of her nightgown before sliding them off, revealing her bare bosom. “Your breasts, milky white…” He planted kisses on them, his calloused fingers running across her pink buds. 

She bit her lip to stifle a moan. “Yeah? Then what?”

He slid the nightgown further down her body. “Your stomach, soft and delicate” His voice had grown low and a bit hoarse. 

Charlotte rubbed her thighs together, her breath shallow as she anticipated his next move.

Finally, he slid the nightgown completely off of her body, the cold air hitting her skin. She shivered, not from the air, but from the sensation of Arthur’s bearded face rubbing against the sensitive skin of her inner thigh. He kissed all the way up her thigh until he reached her core. He placed his fingers against it, and while a layer of cloth separated his touch from her body, she still left out a soft moan.

“Yes...yes…” he growled. “I’m rememberin’ now. How you tasted…” He looked up at her as he slid her panties down her legs. “Darlin’, it’s takin’ everythin’ in me not to devour you right now.”

“W-what’s stopping you?” 

That comment again. God, she was a relentless tease. 

He stared at her as he gave her pussy a long, teasingly slow lick. She let out a soft whimper at the sensation of his warm tongue against her intimacy. Her juices continued to flow, and he was right there to lap them up with his eager mouth.

Her taste was familiar to his tongue, sweet as summer honeysuckles. His beard rubbed the skin of her inner thighs, and she arched her back as his tongue continued to explore the familiar territory of her folds. His cock throbbed against the tight fabric of his union suit. He longed to be inside her, to hold her against him as their heartbeats began to sync. 

He growled, fumbling with the buttons of his suit and he moved his head back and forth. He ran his hand along his entire length, finally letting it free from its previous confines. 

His wife couldn’t help but glance down and moan at the sight of her husband pleasuring himself while he pleasured her. She bucked against his face, feeling herself reaching her peak.

His calloused thumb made lazy circles around her clit while his other thumb circled the head of his cock. 

Charlotte bit her lip and whimpered, squirming against her husband’s face. 

“That’s it, darlin’,” he growled, “cum for me. You can do it, I know you’re close. Fuck…” His cock leaked with precum. 

She arched her back and moaned out his name, and while no one could feasibly hear them in the middle of the woods, right at that moment it felt like the entire world knew that Arthur Morgan was filling her with ecstasy as she reached her climax. 

She panted, her body coated with a thin layer of sweat. “Oh...Oh, Arthur..”

He panted heavily as well, sliding beside her and kissing her, his face and beard still lingering with the taste and scent of her. 

“Mmm that’s a good girl…” he whispered in her ear. 

Her hands squeezed his glistening biceps, then trailed down to his chest and stomach. She played with his chest hair, a sly smirk on her face. “My big man loves to eat, hmm?” she teased, kissing his neck and nipping his earlobe. 

“You’re damn right I do.” He let out a grunt, his cock twitching. 

Charlotte kissed him and shimmied the rest of his suit down his body. 

“Now we’ve just gotta stay close together so we don’t freeze to death,” she said, her hand gripping his length and stroking it. She kissed his lips, muffling the groan that escaped his mouth. 

“Mmm I want us both facin’ the fire,” he whispered. “No more fightin’ to be on top.” 

“Yes sir.” She obeyed, laying on her side facing the fire. 

He slid her body against his, turning her face so he could kiss her. He lifted her leg, reaching a hand around to rub her pussy, still soaked from their previous interaction. 

He slid inside of her with ease, both of them gasping practically the same breath. His cock inside of her was a familiar feeling that seemed to bring her more pleasure with each thrust. 

His large hand clasped her smaller one, the both of them unable to take their eyes off of the other one. The fire continued to roar, and while the outside raged with icy wrathfulness, the inside of their little cabin was a hearth of comfort and pleasure. 

“Darlin’, I…” he growled, twitching inside of her.

A familiar, floaty feeling began to rise in her stomach, and she let out a soft moan. 

He brought their clasped hands down to her sensitive bundle of nerves. With his hand over hers, he guided her and pleased her, as an artist guides his brush across a canvas, and as an artist creates a passion filled work of art, so too were they.

She squirmed against him, barely able to contain herself as she moaned out broken pieces of his name. 

“That’s it, goddamn that’s it…” he growled in her ear. “Cum with me, be a good girl and cum with me..” 

The fire crackled and sparked and so did she, moaning as she came undone once more. 

Arthur pulled out and groaned, spilling his seed on her stomach. 

The two of them collapsed in a heap of sweat, the both of them panting and staring up at the ceiling, holding hands. 

Finally, Arthur mustered up the strength to get up and retrieve a wet cloth to clean up his wife. He smirked as he cleaned her. “You were so good tonight.”

“So were you, dear.” She kissed him. “You always know exactly what I need.”

The fire began to fizzle out. Charlotte sighed and arose, retrieving a log from the pile and tossing it into the fireplace. The light of the flames illuminated every curve of her nude form. Arthur’s heart beat a bit faster at the sight.

He wished to God he could capture her in that same pose. He’d be sure to sketch a replica of it, hell, maybe have her model for him just so he had an excuse to see her naked again. Either way, the sight of her looking like a work of art made his heart soar. She definitely beat all the dirty cigarette cards he and the old gang members used to trade. 

“Something on your mind, Arthur?” 

He blinked a few times before chuckling. “Nothin’. Just thinkin’ about you and how lovely you look.”

She smiled and lay down beside him, kissing his forehead. “You’ve still got it, darling.”

“Oh, is that so?”

“I’m not kidding. You were wonderful tonight. It was almost identical to our honeymoon.”

He furrowed his brow and turned his head to look at her. “Almost?”

“Well, we weren’t under the stars!”

He looked out the window, the snow still coming down fast. “Darlin’, you’d better be thankin’ the lord we weren’t doin’ it outside. We’d be freezin’ our asses off in all that snow.”

She giggled, nuzzling against him and kissing his chest. “Well we may not have been making love under the stars, but you certainly made me see stars tonight, Mr. Morgan.”

He chuckled, pulling her against him and kissing her one more time before drifting off to sleep. 

#arthur x charlotte #arthur morgan x charlotte balfour #charlotte balfour #arthur morgan #red dead redemption 2

[sourpatchkidsandacokecan]

Merry Kismet Writing Challenge

Time for a new writing challenge friends! In order to get into the festive spirit, or just to stay warm as it gets cold, I have created a winter/holiday writing challenge! I know some of the prompts reference Christmas specifically, however, if you do not celebrate that holiday, but another, feel free to substitute it, just let me know!

You don’t have to be following me, but it would sure be jolly if ya did!

Please signal boost this so it doesn’t flop!

Open for all Marvel characters!

Send me your pairing and prompt in an ask! That way I can keep track of things easier in case tumblr implodes, a url changes, whatever!

AU's are welcome!

No word minimum or maximumUse the “keep reading” insert on anything over 500 wordsUse proper warnings please!

No rape/incest

@ me in the fic when you post and  # it #ldmkwc

I'm allowing two people per prompt because I realized while I have a mix, I don't have the even mix I was hoping for, plus it's the season of giving!

Fic due date: January 10th, 2020

That’s it! Any questions feel free to send them via DM or my askbox

“I just want to stay here, watch movies all day and cuddle with you on the couch.”

“Holding you in my arms is the best feeling in the world.”

“Out of all the things I like to eat, you’re my favourite.” @avintagekiss24 w/ steve

“You fell asleep on me, but it’s fine, I made sure you’re warm and comfortable.”

“Be more careful next time. I don’t want to bandage you up again.” 

“Hey, it’s cold outside. At least wear a jacket.” @helenaeisenhower w/ bucky

“Take it easy, you hit your head.”

“Sit still and let me take a look!”

“Did I say you could get out of bed?”

“You’re lucky, that icicle could’ve killed you.”

“Sit down, I’ll make some hot chocolate and fix you right up.” 

“Shit, you’re burning up.”

“You’re not dying. It’s only a sprained ankle.” @becs-bunker w/ carol danvers

“I wouldn’t be in this situation for anyone else. I hope you know that.” @vloggerparker w/ peter parker

“You owe me a kiss.” @heli0s-writes w/ bucky

“Why the hell is there glitter everywhere?” @spidey--tingle + @kentuckybarnes w/ bucky

“The food looks great, but there’s something much more delicious i’d like to eat right now.” @becs-bunker w/ bucky

“There’s only one bed…” @that-damn-girl w/

“Was I really that drunk?”

“Are you cold?”

“Stop hogging all the blankets!”

“Baby, it’s cold outside.”

“It’s almost midnight!” @chuuulip

“Looks like we’re snowed in.”

“Don’t be such a Grinch.”

“The lights are so pretty.”

"Is that mistletoe?" @lailannajacobs w/ loki

“Will you help me decorate?” @nacho-bucky w/ bucky

“Let’s go ice skating.” @merpuccino w/ natasha

“Seriously, staring at me won’t get me to be your new years date.”

“You know I could never leave you alone on your favorite holiday.” @sincerelymlg w/ bucky

“I’m bringing the holiday party to you!”

“I think eating Chocolate alone on a holiday is completely normal.” 

“Looks like we’re stuck here until all the snow blows over." @the--sad--hatter w/ loki

“Seriously!?! The powers out?” @sammy-jo1977 w/ matt murdock

“There’s so much snow in my boots!”

“Wake me up when winter’s over.”

“Winter is my favorite time of the year!”

"You’re cute when you’re freezing.”

“All I want for Christmas is you.” @myoxisbroken w/ loki

“No way you’re going out in the snow in that!”

“Did you actually get a Santa suit?”

“Catching snowflakes with your tongue is harder than it looks…” @corneliabarnes w/ bucky

“I may die if it gets any colder.” @afewmarvelousthoughts w/ bucky

“Finally! Snow!”

“Let’s watch stupid Christmas movies and get wasted.”

"It’s too cold to do anything!”

“Let’s listen to Christmas albums and get drunk off of eggnog.”

“You’re like a heater!”

“Bah humbug.”

“There’s no way I’m going out in that weather!”

“Hey, want to help me get my parents off my ass about not having a date?” @buckybarnesbeans w/ bucky + ladybugfanfics w/ steve

“I’d like the snow a lot more if I didn’t have to drive in it.”

“There’s no way I’m letting you spend Christmas alone.” @afewmarvelousthoughts w/natasha

“Seriously, I told you that you would get sick going out like that.”

“You’re hands are freezing!” @from-hel-i-with-love w/ loki

"Do you wanna build snowman?"

"You've never been in a snowball fight?"

"I don't possess the will to move 50 million tons of white bullshit." @redfoxwritesstuff w/ steve

"Careful! The ice looks thin over there!" @jessiejunebug w/ loki

#bucky barnes x reader #matt murdock x reader #frank castle x reader #steve rogers x reader #natasha romanoff x reader #clint barton x reader #sam wilson x reader #tony stark x reader #thor x reader #loki x reader #bruce banner x reader #jessica jones x reader #wanda maximoff x reader #pietro maximoff x reader #ldmkwc #writing challenge #marvel writing challenge

[dat-town]

how to un-break a heart?

Characters: Mino & You

Setting: slice of life

Genre: angst

Summary: “If I read our story backwards, it's about how I un-broke your heart, and then we were happy until one day, you forgot about me forever.” ― Joseph Gordon-Levitt, The Tiny Book of Tiny Stories, Vol. 1

Words: 2k

Merry Christmas @lily-blue​ dear! ♥

Snow was falling heavily outside with the sweet scent of mulled wine lingering around when you saw his name flashing on your phone's screen. You knew you shouldn't take that, not with your fragile heart on the line, tongue wanting to dance back on those reckless words. You didn't only break his heart but smashed your own in your fist as well. Realistically speaking, in the long run, it was still better this way, you tried to convince yourself.

But was it really?

The bed felt too big, too empty and too cold without him and you were lying down, lifeless, watching the swirling snowflakes through your bedroom's window. The fairy lights, forgotten there from Christmas made everything so lovely. Ironically pretty while it stirred up memories too: playful, tipsy kisses shared under a mistletoe and watching stupid movies while cuddled up. But it didn't take long and bitter memories came back to haunt you as well: stupid arguments about the tree decorations, the Christmas party his parents had and tears ruining your makeup when he just looked at you with a resigned sigh, giving up on you and whispered Fine after you told him you wanted to break up.

The screen went dark just like the dancing flame of hope extinguished in your chest, swiftly and irreversibly, and your nails dug into the pillow under your head soaked with your salty tears. You hated yourself for the rush of feelings taking you under when the phone lit up again, his name written there engraving the syllables into your mind once again. And you made the mistake; you took it, lifting the device to your ears with shaking hands.

“Minho...” you started but your voice cracked before you could have scolded him for calling. You heard party music from there and shouting and him panting as if he had been running. Maybe he did.

"Baby…" he hiccuped and although it was a pathetic little sound, your sensitive heart churned still. He sounded drunk and desperate. He sounded like he missed you. "Can't we… go back to spring?" he asked so hopelessly and then the line went silent.

You haven’t heard from him ever since, not even when the season of withering and eternal snow has passed. You had only seen your trace in his art and yet, you were too proud to call and tell him that you wished flowers bloomed again (in your heart too).

Saying I love you had always been hard on you. The words tasted heavy in your mouth and you didn't like the weight.

But it seemed so easy to Minho, he kept saying it, murmuring it into the crook of your neck, into the coconut scented waves of your hair, kissing his way down your blade bones and biting your earlobe. He confessed over every mug of shared coffee in the morning and when he pulled you closer on the colder autumn nights, pressing kisses onto the exposed skin of your shoulders while holding you oh so close. He made it seem so easy and uncomplicated, he made the word 'love' lose its meaning because he told you even after your arguments and petty fights when you were still mad at him. He told you under the pouring rain and among colourful leaves of fall when he made you laugh in the middle of the streets. He told you when you got a promotion and he said he was proud but you could see it in his deep dark eyes that he wasn't genuinely happy about your stricter work hours and busier schedule. You blamed it on him being an artist, always so free, a bird not belonging into a cage and you hoped your embracing arms wouldn't become one of those metal jails and yet, maybe it was him who put you under pressure. Expectations you couldn't live up to made you feel like a disappointment, and what did he love in you then if not the girl you actually were? And since when did love had such conditions?

Doubts poisoned your heart more and more and nobody seemed to notice than something was inevitably wrong. All of your friends loved him, your mother was charmed and even though your father didn't think art could provide a stable income he quite liked him as well. They kept asking you about him, inviting him over to every family event of programs and sometimes you wished you could take a breather.

He loved you so much, why couldn't you love him back the same? There must have been something wrong with you because nobody had ever made you feel like the way he did and yet it wasn't enough? Because to love was to give your all, bare, flawed, willing and yet, you started asking yourself whether it was worth it. Almost eight months into your relationship you had felt as if it was wearing down on you like eight years. You could feel the storm coming. That heavy argument on that rainy night was just a prelude.

"Oh baby, I told you to take an umbrella with you, didn't I?" he greeted you as soon as you crossed the threshold, drenched, hair wet and your shoulders shaking a bit. You had a shitty day, you didn't need him preaching but you didn't want to snap at him for caring, so you let him hush you into the bathroom and took the steaming hot cup of coffee once you were wrapped in a fluffy blanket on your couch.

"Stop it," you murmured under your nose.

"What? I– I didn't do anything…"

"You baby me. You treat me like a child just because I'm forgetful and clumsy. It makes me feel like I'm your responsibility or some shit and not your girlfriend. It sucks," you spat, knuckles turning white from the force you grabbed onto the soft material of the blanket.

"Sorry, I didn't mean it like that," Minho apologized immediately, too soon to your liking as if he wasn't even thinking it through. Maybe that was the main problem.

"Exactly. You never mean stuff," you blamed it all on him. But most of all for saying I love you too much, making it lose its meaning.

That cold, rainy November night was the first when he slept on the couch and disappeared in the morning before you could say sorry. But it wasn't the last.

Summer was scorching hot that year. Sweat-covered bodies lying together over the duvet hoping for some breeze coming from the fan after the aircon broke at your place. The sweet taste of icy strawberry smoothies lingered in your mouth and your hands stroke down the expanse of tattoos over Minho's chest. You liked tracing the inked lines feeling goosebumps forming under your eager fingertips and watching that smile he flashed at you, in moments like this you always thought things couldn't have been more perfect.

"What about a day trip to somewhere next weekend? We could visit a beach," he suggested out of the blue but it painted a soft smile over your swollen lips.

During summer you had tons of free time next to your part-time job, even took up an occasional journalist job writing when you found the topic of the next release up to your liking. Minho told you that you should have spent more time writing, finding a full-time job based on that instead of the administrative one you had currently. He liked to read your stuff, be it a short story or a semi-academic article about rhetorics in k-pop MVs. On one hand it was flattering how much belief he had in you but on the other, it caused you distress because it wasn't that easy. He chose art, a risky way, but he had already found sponsors with his talent, so he spoke easily but writing was different. So you always hushed his encouragement away.

"Okay, let's do that. Where to?" you looked up at him with a wide smile, eyes sparkling from excitement.

"Dunno. Anywhere is fine as long as it's with you," he said so casually that you had the urge to bury your face into your hands.

"Eww, that's cheesy. Don't say that," you shook your head giggling, turning your body to reach for your phone on the bedside table.

Back on your stomach, nuzzling close to him, you opened up the browser, scanning through the map to find a good destination. Though it was hard to concentrate on the task at hand with his artist fingers drawing skillful patterns on your bare back. On days like this, in moments like this, it was so easy to be (in love) with him.

It was a heavily flower-scented spring, the cherry blossoms just bloomed, painting the streets of Seoul all shades of pink. One could breathe in the season of rebirth even through the thick smog over the metropolis. However, you had rather breathed words and art, bathing in culture at its finest, wondering of whys as if you could find the answer of the universe in a drop of pigment.

“You have been standing there for quite a while,” a deep voice noted startling you out of your daze, making you turn your head towards the source on instinct only to find a young, tall, handsome man next to you. You liked to think you had an eye for beauty and you could see it painted in his features. He wasn't pretty or ugly, he wasn't flawless or artificial. There was some raw strength in the sharp lines of his features but there was undeniable softness in the caramel brown of his eyes.

“Ah yeah. I try to figure this one out,” you collected yourself quickly, looking back at the abstract portrait of a woman.

“What about it?” The guy only a few years older than you asked, curiosity taking a hold of him. You didn't mind, you liked talking about art.

“It has such happy colours and yet it's just so sad. A mess of emotions really,” you explained the cause of your confusion as well as the reason of your awe. It was interesting how an artist using the bright colours of the Sun and fire and flowers could emphasis such raw sorrow just because of the facial expression and the painting technique alone.

“Are you here alone?” the stranger asked and it tugged on the corner of your mouth.

“Nah, I came with a friend but she ditched me to talk with the curator,” you shrugged because you didn't really mind wandering around all by yourself. And apparently, you weren't alone anymore as you looked up at the guy to introduce yourself, so he could match a name with the strange obsession about paradoxical art.

“I'm Minho, or Mino as my friends call me. Glad to meet you,” he smiled down at you and his eyes narrowed cutely from the motion. However, your attention snapped back to the painting, or more precisely the little white card next to it, displaying the title and the name of the artist.

“You… wait! Is this your painting?” Your jaw dropped as you looked up at him. You couldn't help but found his laugh endearing.

“Yeah,” he chuckled, ruffling his hair before clearing his throat. "What do you say? Wanna grab a coffee and talk about stuff like my art while you wait for your friend?"

You didn't even have to think. You just smiled, having a good feeling about it, feeling that he could become someone you can't forget easily.

And oh' how right you were, not knowing the weight of its consequences, the heartbreak and sadness after all the happy memories. A mess of emotions really, just like his painting and hell, how much you wished that you could go back, back to spring, to mend both of your hearts.

#stories #mino scenarios #mino imagines #winner scenarios #winner imagines #song mino #mino angst

[hiswhiteknight]

A Blue Christmas

Summary: The Reader and Steve Rogers have been dating for nearly a year. Unfortunately, the Reader has gotten used to celebrating holiday’s and milestones alone. And yet, this would be their first Christmas together as a couple and yet, she knew she wouldn’t have him for Christmas. Even though, they knew who they were dating, it felt like it was going to be a Blue Christmas. 

This was written for @buckysbeardliness holiday fluff writing challenge. I’m a little late on it, but I hope it’s decent. I’m trying to write my way out of writer’s block. Thanks for this fun, cute challenge.

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader

Words: 2500 (So Long)

Warning: Fluff, Kind of Slow

This would be your third Christmas party this week you had gone to and around the ninetieth time you had to answer, ‘so where is Steve?’ And you had your answer on lock, “He couldn’t make it. You know, the life of saving the world keeps you busy. But he wanted me to let you know he apologizes for missing it.”

And then the conversation would always go deep, asking how you deal with having such a distant boyfriend and wondering how difficult it was. And you’ve gotten very good over the past year on how to pivot conversations, though often you wish you could say, ‘well Susan, that’s none of your damn business’ or ‘well, he is really very great in bed, so the longs waits are worth it.’ Instead you say, “When the world needs saving, you don’t mind so much. Speaking of work, how has life at the office been?”

You finally arrived how, tossing yourself on your couch. Tony had set up a system life F.R.I.D.A.Y. in your and Steve’s apartment, “Y/N, you have a message from Captain Rogers,” the system said. You breathed out, it was the eve of Christmas Eve. Though it would be nice to hear his voice, you dreaded the message.

“Go ahead,” you pulled yourself to lean your elbows on your knees. You leaned forward, your hands together you placed them just against your mouth. You closed your eyes and waited.

“Hey lovely, I must be just coming home from Susan’s party,” his voiced caused such contradictions. It was relaxing to hear his voice, but also brought a level of sadness. A chuckle rippled through your chest when you heard a distant shout from Nat spouting off on how Susan was a bore. Steve paused, you could imagine he was trying to shush the crowd behind him, “I’m sorry I couldn’t be there to make it more enjoyable. If you make your way to the kitchen, you’ll find a glass of your favorite wine waiting you and a good book.” You titled your head towards the kitchen when a sad sigh left Steve’s voice and he whispered, “I wish I could be there for you. I know your family will be arriving tomorrow and it’ll be a busy few days for you.” He sounded like he wanted to continue, but a few shouts from behind him caught his attention, “I’m sorry Y/N, I got to go. I’ll be thinking of you, I’ll be safe, got to go, bye.”

You looked up for a second, praying everything would be fine. You believed in all of them to come back with bump and bruises, but overall safe. Jumping out of the what-ifs going on in your head, you look around the apartment. There were big windows, tons of Christmas lights, it was truly a Christmas wonderland in red and green merriment. White snow was trickling down the window, you turned to walk to the kitchen and Steve was right. There was a glass of wine and a book waiting for you. The fireplace roared suddenly, grabbing your attention. Steve must have put a lot of thought into making this as good a Christmas as it could be without him. Though he might be having a snowy Christmas of white, you felt like you were having blue snowflakes falling like blue memories on your soul.

Wiping a tear away, you grabbed your book and glass of wine and sat by the fireplace. You took another big breath, trying to feel excitement for the following few days. This was the first time your family was coming to your new place, this would be the first time they were going to meet Steve, officially, and this is the first time you’d be in charge of the family holiday. There was a lot to look forward to still, even if they wouldn’t be able to meet Steve.

You looked down at the book Steve bought you, rubbing you hands over the cover. It was a classic, A Midsummer Night’s Dream by Shakespeare and you opened the first page to see Steve’s handwriting, ‘Sending you some magic, whenever and where ever I can. Miss you darling – Steve.”

That caused you to smile a little, feeling a little better. You didn’t want to take what you had with Steve for granted. Picking up your glass, you started to drink your wine as you started to read your book. This was a nice distraction from your blues.

Christmas eve passed by so quickly. Your whole family arrived - your parents, your brother and sister-in-law, the kids – it was nice to have the apartment full of smiles and cheer when you felt lonely. You were in your thoughts again, thinking about where Steve could be or how he was feeling, “Baby,” you look up to your mom, “Need help with dinner?”

You look up from your food, “No mama, you relax. I got this,” you look out of the living room, “Where are the kids?”

Your mom looked back too, “Outside playing in the snow,” she answered quickly, “Are you alright honey? You seem a little off, is everything okay?”

Using your hands, you swat away the comment, “I’m great ma, I’m just glad everyone is here.”

“Everyone except Steve,” your dad jumped in, “Good man out saving the world and all.”

You nod in agreement, “I’m just sorry he wasn’t able to make it home for Christmas,” your mother continues on, “Still, we can’t wait to meet him.”

Feeling that blueness spread over your body, again. You nod again, acting like nothing is wrong, “Yeah, he feels the same way, but until than do you want to get the children? Dinner is finished. And we still have to open our one present,” you pointed at the tree with your knife in hand. Your family had this tradition that on Christmas Eve, you pick on present under the tree each and you open it.

Your mother mumbles something about getting the kids and how hungry she is. Your dad rubs your cheek before getting back to setting the table. Your dad knew you very well and could just tell how you felt without making you say anything at all. You gave him a small smile.

You all sat around the tree after dinner with everyone opening one gift until it was your turn, “Y/N you should open the one from Steve,” your nephew said, passing you the little wrapped box.

Taking the box and tapping it on his head, “No silly, I’ll wait for Steve to come home. Why don’t I open yours,” you try to tickle him, but he rolls away, leaving you with a smile. You just grab a present and open it enjoying these little moments you have with your family.

You read the kiddos ‘Twas the night before Christmas’ and help your parents settle in and you sat by your bay window in your window looking out to the snow again. You placed a cup of your mom’s famous hot chocolate by your side and grabbed the book Steve had bought you. You had to be reading for about an hour, it wasn’t quite midnight yet when another sigh rumbled through your chest. You hugged the book to your chest, looking out the window to the winter scene in front of you. Your sadness felt crippling, but you didn’t want to cry – it was almost Christmas after all.

“And there she is,” you heard a whisper behind you. You snap your neck that the direction of the voice, “Hello beautiful,” Steve’s face held a confident, shining smile. He dropped his bag on the grab, pulling his arms open to greet you with this surprise. You dropped your book in shock, launching yourself into his arms. Your face was pressed into his chest, with his arms wrapped around you. A sense of relief rushed over you. You didn’t want to let go, you squeezed him hard wanting this to be real, and you knew it wouldn’t phase him in the lightest, “I missed you,” he whispered against your ear, leaning down into your hair.

After a few moments, you pulled away to look up to him, “How? I thought-,” you tried to continue.

“It’s our first Christmas, babe,” he pushed some hair behind your ear, “I’d fight the whole universe just to get home to you.” He took the chance to read your face, realizing you’ve been crying. He brushed your cheek before leaning down to kiss you, “Plus, I didn’t want to miss your mom’s famous hot chocolate.”

It felt like the first time this whole Christmas that you smiled inside and out, “Well come on good sir,” you grab his hand and pull him out to the kitchen. It was quiet all through the house, he leaned against the counter, watching you work the stove and chocolate. He loved watching you work, you had gotten everything started, and spun to face him, “And now we wait for perfection.”

“I can think of a few things to fill that time,” he looked up like he was thinking before pulling you in his arms. His arms wrapped around your waste pulling you tight against him, his lips formed a smile against your lips before deepening it. A few minutes had to pass by before a throat clearing pulled both your attentions away from each other.

You both looked towards the new figure, “Pop,” you pulled fully away from Steve, “I hope we didn’t wake you,” you say.

He approaches you both, “Careful honey,” you dad pointed towards the stove, “You might burn that chocolate if you don’t stir it around.” You looked back to the stove, leaping to stir the hot chocolate you were making for Steve.

“Mr. Y/L/N, it’s an honor to meet you,” Steve reaches for your dad’s hand, “I apologize for being late.”

Your dad took his hand with both his, “Don’t worry about it. We just appreciate you taking care of my baby here,” he gestured towards you, “It’s just extra nice you were able to make it home for Christmas. Also, thank you for letting us stay here.”

“No, of course sir,” he shook his head, “Having Y/N here with me is award enough, you raised quite the human.”

Your dad shrugged, leaning against the arc way, “It was all their mother’s doing,” he chuckled, “Anyway, I’m going back to bed. I just wanted to grab a water for your mother,” he gestured towards you again. “We’ll talk more tomorrow Steve, I imagine your exhausted,” he paused after getting a glass of water, “You up for a game of chess,” he asked Steve.

Steve went to shake your father’s hand again, “Yes sir, sleep well.”

Your father leaned down to kiss your cheek, “Night angel.”

“Night pops,” you glimmer back, looking at Steve with admiration and love. He was going to do so well with your family. Your dad walked back into his room, “You’re good,” you kiss his lips again, “I got your cup, let’s get to bed.”

“Yes, please,” he grabbed your hand, pulling you into your shared room.

You made yourself comfortable against Steve’s chest, he sipped the hot chocolate which he defined as gold. You read the book he gave you and he looked over some reports. Your bodies intertwined together, felt comforting, you couldn’t even remember what a blue Christmas felt like. A box felt into your book, “It’s almost midnight, I wanted to exchange our Christmas eve gift before it was too late.”

Sitting up, switching your body to look into his eyes with love, “You didn’t have to,” you shook your head, reaching for his cheek, “You’re the best gift a girl could ask for.”

He nodded, “True, but this is special,” he pointed to the box. You smile more, gently ripping away the paper and opening the box. In the box was a heart shaped necklace with a tiny pearl at the bottom of an engraved wording, “The course of true love never did run smooth,” you read out loud. You looked up to him in love, “Steve.”

“I know it’s not easy dating an Avenger. I’d give anything to save you from that pain,” he placed his hand against your cheek and you leaned into it. “You’ve been so supportive, but I know you were sad I wasn’t here,” you close your eyes, “But Y/N I love you and I hope you always remember that.”

Believe it or not, you both have never said those words. You wanted to wait till it was right, even if you lived together, “I. Love. You,” he said again with a kiss per word.

You put both your hands on his face and pushed yourself into kiss him. You pulled away and said with a little tear of happiness, “I love you too.” He smiled at you, pulling you into a giant hug, nuzzling your neck. You tried to pull away, “I’ll grab you a gift.”

“No, baby,” he pulled you back against him, “Don’t leave, you just gave me the best gift a man could ask for.”

“Gosh Steve,” you said, pulling your back against his chest, snuggling against him. You didn’t want to leave the bed either, “I don’t know how I got so lucky.” He chuckled kissing your head, “But Steve,” he looked down at you, “We need to cut the cutesy thing tomorrow. My brother won’t let me hear the end of it or my mother, she’s going to ask about babies and weddings,” you grumble, helping build expectations for the next day, “I don’t think I’m ready for that interrogation.”

“Beautiful,” he laughed, kissing your neck, “I deal with spies and interrogations for a living. I’m sure I can handle your mother,” he laughed again, imaging the conversation in his head.

“Trust me babe,” you look back at him before turning off the lights, “You aren’t ready for my mama.” You felt his kiss on your head before he pulled you down on his chest again.

#Steve Rogers #steve rogers x reader #marvel fanfiction #marvel imagine #captain america #captain america x reader #captain america imagine #hiswhiteknight #writing challenge #marvelholidayfluff #fluff

[miraimisu]

Oh boy, what do we have here, I WANT ALL OF THEM jk can i request a 30 for kacchako? You're the best 💖

I think this is gonna be the toughest and shortest one out of them because this is too tight as plot-wise and… idk? It turned out to be a bit clumsy. I’ll just let my imagination fly. And you are the best hon, where did your creativity come from? WRITE ME A FIC TOO.

Bakugou Katsuki hated libraries.

This was general knowledge among all students that dared come near the blonde– which reduced the count to, like, a pair of people? which was a bit sad actually. But Bakugou didn’t mind having a lame social life as long as nobody took him to a library. He had actually tried some tutoring with Kirishima some months ago and trust him, being kicked out of the quietest place on Earth was everything but pleasant.

Today, however, he had no other option but stay there, in the jampacked library full of nerds listening to music or reading books like their life depended on it. All tables were taken around him: shelves were surrounded with people swarming for tons of emboilled wording, tables were packed to the brim with bags, sheets and notebooks. There was this lingering scent of wood, pine, and closeness around him, silence that tried to be silent but ended being composed of hushed murmurs.

He knew why,

It was because of his table.

His table had the best spot in the entire library. It was near enough to the entrance, but not as close as to let winter breezes reach him. There was a big window by his side, letting night snow be seen, but cars weren’t heard this late in the evening. It shows that Yuuei was going through it’s final exams– Bakugou had, no joke, been there from sun to sun and he was too tired to deal with people.

They whispered.

They whispered because his table was completely devoid of any people but him, everyone too scared to approach him lest he threw a tantrum over personal space and threw them off the window. The fire king was fierce, had possesion of the best table around and was undeniably untouchable.

Bakugou, again, hated libraries. They weren’t as silent as they preached to be, there was always this subtone of hushed voices that spoke no pragmatic matter, only petty gossiping that brought no good to his ears. He was easy into focusing, and quirk to do his homework, but that little toneless chatter was pestering him– hell, if he couldn’t stand Deku’s mumbling for a living, how was he going to condone such generalized murmuring all around him?

Another of his pencils broke in twain when he heard his name being pronounced among a pair of girls. Maybe his pencil breaking business was what got him so isolated. There were people sitting on the floor, as if truthfully fearful of the explosion boy.

Suddenly, a low voice came beside him.

“Can I sit here?” oh, he could recognize that voice anywhere. “All other tables are full.”

He pulled the chair out for Uraraka to take, and she gladly jumped in with a stack of hero law books tucked in his arms. She silently tidied her place with a little smile– people could only stare at her, mouths agape, as if she had dared to cross a forbidden threshold for all humankind. His response to her presence was almost inmediate and utmost unkind. “Don’t make any fucking noise, Uraraka. I can sniff your chatter urges a mile away.”

She rose an eyebrow to him. The first thing he noticed was the lack of spark in her brown pools, a evident sign of exhaustion that he had learnt to tell apart from other ocular displays of her– blinking ‘I need your help’ eyes, doe eyed ‘you’re so cool’ eyes, or the now ‘please I am tired don’t be too hard on me’ eyes, devoid of shine and only full of the brown color of her soul. Drowning in them was the only pathetic way he was willing to die

“I have better stuff to do other than talk with you, you know. As I said, I only sat here because there are no other tables available.”

“You can sit with all those fuckers down on the floor.” he stiffled in a yawn. “I don’t give a damn.”

She decided not to answer that and decided to focus on her books. Uraraka had decided to come to the library mostly because she was too tired to make her way to the dorms without getting some rest. Admittedly, she had expected to find the place empty so she could nap for a pair of minutes in a corner– her plan obviously backfired when the library ended up being full and she had no ther option but sit by Mr. FireHell Blondelocks.

As far as she was concerned, Bakugou’s dorm was being repaired due to some of his angry fits being thrown towards a wall, making his dorm look creepily open. That huge hole by his bed was all but tranquilizing. She should have known he would be in the library while his dorm was under repairations, because he couldn’t stand noise while studying and the crew taking care of his room would sure make too much of it.

Brief story: she was stuck with Bakugou until she finished her homework. And time was passing by way too slowly to her liking.

There was a moment when people started leaving the room. Stars twinkled outside the building and threw some shadows across the wooden floor, and lamps lit up the cozy place with a dim, orange light. Uraraka found this to be a bit too pleasant for her tired senses– there was a second in which her head fell a bit too down for Bakugou’s liking, who had been watching her silently as she started to doze off.

“Oi.” he nudged her rudely, and her head snapped up again. “Don’t go falling asleep on me.”

She started messing with her hair sheepishly, making Bakugou fidget uncomfortably in his seat. That antic of hers drove him insane: she was always doing it in front of everyone, in front of teachers, in front of fucking Deku. And he sometimes wondered what the fuck did that bastard have to make her so nervous when he couldn’t wake a single of her hairs up while being by far the most fearsome boy in their class.

“I’m sorry.” whispered she. He saw her grimace, keeping a yawn in– and it made him outwardly yawn, hand covering his mouth. “It’s been a rough day, today. I’ve been going from one place to another and I just couldn’t wait to crash the bed.”

And Bakugou understood the struggle. He was also fighting the exhaustion away, barely keeping it at bay and the fact that the staff had decided to royally mess with him by turning on the heat was not fucking helping. He had already removed his jacket and he was still a bit too warm to his liking. Knowing Uraraka and how sleepy she was, the fight must be tougher for her.

He shuffled a bit closer to her, feeling himself more tired than ever. “There’s not much people around.”

Her head rested on her palm now, looking at him with an interested gaze. “Mhm.”

“You can have your damn sleep, now.”

This– this startled her. He could have a heart, too? What was the world coming to that night? “Are you suggesting to keep watch on me… and actually let me have a little nap?”

“I am not gonna be your fucking babysitter.” spat he, crimsom eyes glaring at her despite the kindness within his flames. He eyed her unkempt hair and the dryness of her pretty stars, and her skin suddenly seemed paler than usual. “You look like a car ran over you. If you can’t take care of yourself I’ll have to show you how to fucking do it.”

He legit slammed her head against the wooden table, making a loud terrifying noise. Somebody could have mistaken that with a murdering attempt. Uraraka, however, laughed at his antics while watching the snowflakes drop before her. “I could use… some sleep.”

Bakugou almost didn’t catch what she said, as she was inmediately out of commision the moment her head crashed against the table. “Stupid woman.” mumbled he, taking a last glimpse at his diagrams and summaries while keeping an eye on her. Her hair was a mess, and he could tell it was bothering her.

Bakugou caressed her cheek with his fingertips and quickly brushed some strands away, the notion inmediately bringing him close to rage with this newfound feeling of intimacy. “Fuck this girl, fuck her!” he glared at her. “Fuck her in hell…”

But the way she was sleeping was kind of cute, too. Her head rested atop her hands, even breaths fanning some locks away and her face in peace for the first time in a while. He had never seen her so relaxed until now, and the image filled him with a sense of peace that he didn’t know he could feel until he stumbled with her.

His back was throbbing. He bet hers wasn’t right now.

She must be… comfortable, too.

Bakugou looked away and started cursing colorfully as he took his jacket from his spot on the chair’s back, and put it on top of her quiet body. The thought of her scent impregnating his clothes wouldn’t occur to him until midnight clocked by– and he would fall asleep thinking about her, too.

The blonde blushed, and all he could think about now was about how good a nap would be to him and how nice her warmth would be– he was half a meter away from her and he could already feel her whole self lulling him to sleep against his will.

That had to be illegal. His heart shouldn't be racing as hard as it was.

Eventually, Bakugou gave in and his head ended up on his arms too, both teens closer together than they had ever been– and Bakugou had taken her sweater as a paid back, he thought tiredly and without much logic, and draped it across his back. 

Uraraka shifted closer to him in her sleep, and he was only drawn to her scent. The sound of snowflakes melting against the windowpane made him remember that he hated libraries, but he would never hate this spot and he could forget about this hatred for a while as long as Uraraka was by him all the time, too.

She had had tons of space to sit at– floors and on top of shelves. But all tables had been full and, at the end of the day, he couldn’t find the heart to complain.

Aizawa eventually found both kids fast asleep on the table and sighed. “Man, kids these days. They grow up so fast.”

#request #kacchako #kacchako fanfiction #fanfiction #this was so hard and just #lil you chose the toughest one of them all damn you >:c #i love you tho c:

[paradisiacpublishing]

Paradisiac Publishing currently has some books on roster (the proper publishing industry term, of course)!

Get this: one/some/PREFERABLY ALL could be in your/a loved one’s library. What are you even doing right now? Playing outside in the snow (awesome)? Baking the most delicious Midwestern food imaginable (you’re amazing)? Looking outside at a barren winter hell (it’s going to be OK)? Well, just take a quick seat and check out these books you can order to read by the fireplace with cocoa later!

Promise. Us. You’ll. Put. Rumchata. In. Your. Cocoa.

PROMISE US!!!

Anyway.

These books are a steal. It is true that Barnes & Noble has a coffee shop inside, but you can buy our titles without even having to worry about putting on pants so I mean I think we can all agree which option is better.

So what’s the deal?

All titles. $15-$40 per book. That is actually an effing steal considering you are dealing with a 100% independent, LOCAL publishing company. Does it even necessarily know what it is doing at all times?

No it does not! It’s women run so...

I AM KIDDING!

It’s WOMAN-RUN, so you know these books will actually get to you when expected, sent with tender-loving care.

Also, it’s the holiday season.

Whatever you are celebrating, these books make great gifts!

And, if you were a jerk all year and aren’t getting any presents, buy yourself one or more of these books and forget about your garbage life by getting lost in these pages.

Something. For. Everyone.

So, what are the books available that you could buy?

Here’s some:

But wait, there’s more:

Last (but in no possible way least because it gets its own highlight), our newest title:

Oh, but wait, there’s more!

Oh! And:

Holy. Shit.

So many books!

What are they even about though?

Good question! Check it!

Prose and Kahns by Zack Kahn

Los Angeles actor and screenwriter Zack Kahn trusted Paradisiac Publishing to bring his first book to life. The book is a collection of Zack’s comedic one-liners collected over time on the scraps on which they were originally created. Tons of LOLZERS and check the Amazon reviews/Facebook page for a tip on how to use the book as a drinking game. Holiday. Fun.

Becoming BGD by Matthew Essex

With great power comes great fashion sense. This saga about a gay, Midwestern superhero is a must-read. Written by Quad Citizen Matthew Essex.

Montreal on October by Ryan Buynak

Ryan is the owner operator of Coyote Blood, Paradisiac Publishing’s sister company. WHAT DOES THAT EVEN MEAN?! It means whatever you want it to mean! Basically, Ryan writes the fuck out of poetry (and writing in general) and this collection is his take on his favorite city up north. Ryan has been a partner to Paradisiac from the start and someday we will take over the world, possibly, if we get around to it.

We’re the Drug by Justin Everett Foyil

In this Coyote Blood book, Justin (a singer/songwriter) channels his radical mindset into a unique breed of poetry.

Something’s Missing by Lauren Alexis Wood

Lauren wrote a children’s book as a baby shower gift for her new niece (fall 2017), because if that was an option of something you could do, why wouldn’t you do that? #extraAF She asked illustrator Johnnie Cluney (Daytrotter, Bent River Brewery) to bring the story to life and he couldn’t have done a better job. She also calls her younger brother stupid within its pages. If you love sibling rivalry or you’re just looking for an adorable book to give to an expecting couple, this is your title.

Future Underwater Tomahawk by Ryan Buynak

A Coyote Blood title, this title astounds as a collection of random acts of poetry.

A is for Artisanal by Matthew Goldenberg

Illustrated by New Yorker cartoonist Benjamin Schwartz this modern alphabet book playfully highlights popular, new-age and hipster baby names and it is goddamn adorable.

Hellbound Angel by Nikki Avila

This breathtaking look at an apocalyptic future touches on personal growth, relationships, and finding your way home. The first novel by poet Nikki Avila is a page-turner that sheds light on the beautiful poet she has grown into.

Ghost of the Wooden Squid by Ryan Buynak

This was the first title of Ryan’s (and I think his third published collection?) Paradisiac had the pleasure of publishing. It was love at first read in this exciting showcase of everyone’s favorite anti-poet at the time.

Help me! I’m Fat! by Lauren Alexis Wood

Paradisiac founder/owner lost a pretty astounding amount of weight by getting really into CrossFit so she wrote a book sarcastically about it (aren’t you supposed to, like, just automatically get on Good Morning America if you lose more than 100 pounds?!). Although ridiculous, the book contains blank journal pages with silly motivational shouts should you or someone on your Christmas list have health on their mind heading into the new year. She actually kept the weight off so there just *might* be something to the very brief, yet impactful tips on health within the first few pages. The book also links to her fitness blog where she documented the entire 5-year journey.

100 Series Presents: Shades ($40 special price due to printing costs)

Quad City Lifestyle brand expert and reigning local positivity spokesperson Jaawan Arrington of the 100 Series shares the photos and stories of 100 incredible Quad Citizens who each shared an object of importance in these colorful pages. If you’d like a wonderfully eclectic look at what makes the Quad City area so special (hint: it’s the people), this is a fantastic investment/gift.

Angels & Inner Demons by Nikki Avila

In Nikki’s follow-up to Hellbound Angel, and first collection of beautiful poetry, this title touches on the light and the dark elements of the human experience.

Sleeping: I’m Just Not Good At It by Ryan Buynak

A Coyote Blood title, what does a poet do when he can’t sleep? He makes lists. Lots of them. This collection is a culmination of a restless man’s collection of things he must never forget.

Magnet by Ryan Drag

In this Coyote Blood title the lead singer of Heavy Birds holds nothing back in a complex collection of lyrical verse dedicated to the exploration of one’s subconscious mind.

Half Dollar Rebel by James R. Parkinson

In this gritty yet hilarious collection of heartfelt essays, a young man struggling to make his way in New York City begrudgingly makes his way to adulthood.

Misfit Tales by Nikki Avila

In this cerebral collection Nikki touches on growth, love, emotion, and finding your one, true self.

Writer Bartender Skateboarder by Ryan Buynak

A Coyote Blood Title ten years in the making, this fucking amazing collection is Ryan’s latest contribution to Rock & Roll Poetry.

The Necessaries by Misty Urban

In Paradisiac’s latest title, midieval literary scholar Misty Urban takes a step back from academia and a step into our hearts with a collection of riveting stories and character portraits with life lessons you won’t soon forget.

Scary Stories To Laugh At In The Dark by Lauren Alexis Wood

This title is an homage to Alvin Schwartz’s classic ‘Scary Stories to Tell In The Dark’... except with a humorous twist. Because the dark is scary! Also... some people might be familiar with laughing in the dark for another reason so this is just adding to the laughs!

Happy Cloud’s Fly Along by the Intro. to Children’s Literature Course (ENG 240) at Black Hawk College in Moline, IL (Fall 2018)

The perfect children’s book to read to your little snowflake at bedtime.

Being the President: An Outline by Lauren Alexis Wood

This is a children’s book for any young leader out there with big dreams on the importance of being nice and embracing teamwork. Also, it’s a children’s book specifically written for our current President, Donald Trump, and is a very easy-to-understand quick guide giving him some specific guidance on how to do his job. If someone needed to womansplain the presidency to Donald Trump for some reason, I imagine this could be looked at as an effective option in which to accomplish that feat. Something the whole family can enjoy!

Um, excuse me. Those all sound amazing and this is actually kind of impressive AF.

THANK. YOU.

If you are interested in a title, please shoot an email to [email protected] with the title(s) you are interested in and your mailing address. You will get an invoice sent your way ASAP. Pay the invoice and your books will be on their way.

❤️❤️❤️