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#winter ily
literatureaesthetic · 5 months
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🌬 25th nov '23 — baking, enjoying the frosty weather and the feel of crisp air on my skin, wearing new chunky jumpers, watching christmas films, and reading thick classics (the tenant of wildfell hall is my current read, and it might just be a new favourite) <3
i adore this time of year so much. it always feels magical and (oddly) warm — everything is always a little softer around christmas time
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wake up wintersberg nation
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yoon-dowoon · 4 months
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Christmas without you would just not be Christmas at all. happy birthday to our forever winter bear, kim taehyung 🐻❄️ (1995.12.30)
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colorful-horses · 1 year
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chilly
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sexlapis · 4 months
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# a snowy morning .·
𝗓𝖹𝗓 🦌 ⎯⎯ &. ♥︎
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❤︎ toji x gn!reader
sfw, fluff, christmas season, petnames (‘kid’, ‘sweetie’), playing in the snow, old man toji, he’s a tiny bit mean but … <3
wc: 1.9k
a/n: just wanted some toji winter fluff…<3 merry christmas everyone ᒄ₍⁽ˆ⁰ˆ⁾₎ᒃ♪♬
masterlists
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*
toji awakens with a startle at your shout, shooting up and out of bed, swiping his handgun from his bedside drawer and stumbling to where you stand, looking out of the bedroom window.
life away from the city was all toji wanted, along with peace and quiet, which is why you and toji live just on the outskirts of the woods, where your only neighbours are the wild animals that roam the surrounding forest.
and toji likes it that way; no annoying neighbours, no noisy cars, no air pollution and clear, vibrant skies where you can actually see the fucking stars when you look up.
but with you around…peace and quiet are nothing but foreign concepts.
“toji, look!” you exclaim. “it’s snowing! it’s- toji put that away.” you frown at him, referring to his gun.
“what’s with all that yelling?” he grunts, lowering his weapon and instead unsafely using it to scratch his back.
“it’s snowing! it must’ve started when we slept!”
toji huffs, his heart slowing down a little in relief. “alright, let’s jus’-”
“it’s so deep too. and it looks so soft. i’m going outside!”
after your sporadic ramble, you’re flinging out of your pyjamas and into thicker, warmer clothes.
“it’s six in the morning.” toji deadpans, blinking away the sleep in his eyes and ruffled by you shocking him awake.
you were always so spontaneous with your plans, he could hardly keep up with them.
“no! it could be melted by then,” you claim, throwing a large, cream-coloured sweater over your head, “put your clothes on, you're coming with me.”
“now why am i involved?” he asks, rhetorically of course, since he’s already heading to his wardrobe and picking out a black fleece along with a long sleeved shirt.
he should really stand his ground more, show you who’s in charge and who makes the rules around here. after all, it is his house.
but when you look at him so expectantly, hoping for him to agree, he knew that he would only comply with your wishes.
and you know that too.
“someone needs to help me build the snowman!”
*
minutes later, you’re skipping in the sparse forest behind the house, travelling through crunchy snow to the best of your abilities, leaving uneven footprints in your path as toji trails behind you, chiding you to slow down.
frosty, crisp air bites at your exposed face, sure to ache when you get back inside to the warmth. the wintry sky is painted in a pale periwinkle, cloudless and plain lest for the faded crescent moon that follows you on your merry way.
you leave the forest and you are welcomed to the wide, vast and picturesque landscape of the field you and toji commonly frequent. said field is completely blanketed in a white sheet of pure snow, going on for miles and miles, glittering in the morning glow.
“kid, what’d i say.” toji huffs, coming to stand beside you with a hand supporting his back, a little out of breath. “what a view, huh?”
“mhm!” you agree and then you’re plopping right down into the snow, repeatedly spread and closing your arms and legs, more strenuous than you expected, “come make a snow angel, toji! next to me. not too close though or you’ll mess mine up.”
toji sighs, mostly fond, breath leaving his nose and he clambers onto the snowy ground with his knees cracking, something you then proceed to make fun of him for and he flicks snow at you.
“toji, that got in my mouth!” you sputter and spit, glaring at a flailing toji who attempts to make a snow angel. his long, big limbs make the movement look heavy and odd, causing you to snort in his face.
“what’re you laughin’ at?” he grunts, his expression determined like he’s in a competition to make the greatest snow angel of all time. snow splatters all around him from his brash actions.
he looks so cute like this, you think. rosy cheeks, the sweet dimple on his left cheek that appears when he grins, the wrinkles around his eyes crinkled even more as he smiles and entertains you.
“okay, that’s enough!” you stand, brushing the snow away from your body, “get up. i wanna see what they look like.”
toji sticks his hand out, “‘right, help me up.”
“oh toji..” you mutter in faux annoyance before you clasp both of your gloved hands around his one, groaning with the struggle of lifting him up.
“i’m not that heavy, sweetie,” huffs toji, clapping his covered hands, causing snow to powder all around him, “okay, what’d you think?”
you both observe at the snow angels created by your bodies. they are…simply a mess and bundle of piled up mess, shapeless silhouettes dented into the snow, the size difference between them almost comical.
“…yeah it’s looks great ♡,” you smile, looking to toji who nods in agreement, clearly pleased with himself.
*
“okay! toji you make the body and i’ll do the head!” you call out to him from a distance after playing and prancing around in the know. you’ve already begun rolling out a small ball of firm snow along the ground.
meanwhile, toji’s snowball is already up to his knee. he shuffles and rolls his huge globe of snow around the field, leaving swirls and spirals in the sheet of snow behind him.
“how is yours so big already?!” you screech, glancing down at your pitiful snow ball, “we just started!”
“‘cos while i was getting down to business you were doin’ backflips in the fuckin’ snow.”
“hey!” beyond your better judgement, you launch the ball of snow right at toji, striking him square in the chest.
a quiet “ufff” leaves toji’s mouth and he peers at his once black winter coat that is now splattered in snow. then, he slowly raises his head back to you, a malicious glint in his eyes.
“ohhh, you really shouldn’t ‘a done that, kid…”
toji’s lifts what is supposed to be the body of the snowman and stalks towards you in swift strides. you scream, already on your feet and dashing away downhill, squealing and cackling as toji runs after you with the giant snowball in his arms, a sight that would be absurd to onlookers if there were any.
your foot slides off the floor and up into the air, landing on your back onto the pillow of snow, leaving you completely at toji’s mercy.
it took a mere four or five steps for him to keep up with you. quite sad on your part, really.
toji’s looms over you, a wicked grin on his lips as he holds the large snowball in his hands, “i hate to have ’ta do this but…”
“toji, please! have mercy-”
but your words fall on deaf ears. toji’s raises the vast ball of snow, creating a shadow over your vision, and your eyes are bulging, your stomach dropping slightly as he promptly drops the snow onto your awaiting body.
you gasp. luckily, your winter coat protected you from the bite of the snow, the clothing now caked with snow.
toji pats his hand for good measure right over your body, sprinkling snow on your face.
“how’s that, huh?” he smirks before noticing how you’re covering your face with the back of your hands, your shoulders shaking slightly.
shit.
“shit,” he crouched down and going to comfort you, thinking he took this game a little too far, “kid, you okay? ‘m sorry-”
a snowball is smashed into the side of his face.
“ha!” your giggles fill the bitter air and you shove him into the snow, jumping up and scurrying off, “got youuuuuuu!”
“oh, you fucking-” toji springs to his feet, shaking the snow his face, the area now red and flushed, “yeah, you better run!”
you and toji chase each other through the snow, launching snowballs at each other, noses rosy and cheeks aching from smiles and laughter, breaths heaving and hearts running as you both reveal in this newfound peace and joy.
playful, free and happy.
toji tackles you, cupping the back of your head as you fall to the ground softly.
he hovers over you. the hat that previously covered his head is long gone, most likely buried within the surrounding snow. his raven locks point in all directions and droplets of snow seasoned in his hair. tender, rounded eyes decorated with fluttering, thick lashes study you adoringly and you feel like hiding your face as your heart bursts in your chest.
you bite your lip and say, “i think i won.”
“yeah, sure you did.” toji rolls his eyes, shaking his head and kissing your nose, “c’mon, let’s go. it’s just gonna get colder, anyway.”
“i wanted to go ice skating on the lake, though…”
toji rises to his knees, lifting you up with him. he sweeps the snow from your hair and scans your body, his actions instinctual at this point, “yeah, yeah, we’ll go tomorrow, promise.”
you seem satisfied with his answer, allowing him to stand you up.
“i want a piggyback ride, please” you beam at him, and…toji is a weak man. only for you.
seconds later, he is letting you mount him like a horse and he begins the journey back to the cosy home you both created for yourselves.
toji’s large, strong stature makes you feel safe, protected. it always has. and with the smoothness of his steps, you find drifting off into a momentary rest against his broad shoulders.
*
the next time you come to, you’re on the couch of your living room, the fireplace crackling and illuminating the dim room. a fluffy, lengthy blanket protects you from the slight chill in the air which is also permeated with the scent of chocolate. you blink, licking your lips and yawning. you are by yourself, you note as you stretch and sit up on your knees.
shortly after that thought, toji walks in, holding two mugs of what you presume to be hot coco.
“hey, sweetie,” he coos, wishing to keep the quiet atmosphere, “got ya some hot coco,” he hands you the cup, placing his own on the coffee table and taking a seat right next to you, “‘fell asleep on the way back. musta been tired from waking up at ass ‘o clock, huh?”
you pout, gulping some of the chocolatey beverage which has your mouth hot and warming up your insides. you stick your tongue out at him, feeling too drowsy to even refute his snipe.
toji huffs, grinning softly. he licks his thumb and wipes the corner of your mouth to get rid of a chocolate stain.
“ugh, toji.” you grunt, “gross.”
“c’mon i've done worse than that.”
you grumble, sipping on your hot drink and ignoring his short chuckles.
he shifts closer to you, wrapping an arm around your shoulder, “c’mere.”
toji is so big and so warm and so soft and just so tender. you’re dropping your mug next to toji’s and snuggling up right beside him, also wrapping your arms around his waist, your cheek pressed up against his firm chest. it’s the perfect fit and you’ve never felt so content.
“hmm..think i’m gonna fall asleep again…”
“that's alright, baby.” toji hums, kissing the top of your head and smoothing your hair down. he loved the feeling of you in his arms, it made him feel like the protector that he is at his core, something he’d forgotten so much about - the true nature of himself.
“go to sleep,” and you are already passed out, fast asleep on toji’s firm body. he nuzzles against the top of your head and closes his eyes, breathing you in and holding you close.
he can stay here, with you in his arms, far away from the rest of the world, forever.
*
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a/n: have a very merry christmas everyone! please make sure to rest and stay healthy ^_^🎄💚❤️
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shiftywing · 4 months
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WINTER DAY AGAIN
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chrisitsraining · 2 months
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every time capcom puts another cool and interesting female character in resident evil and lets her basically go to waste/promptly tosses her to the side i become one step closer to mutating and chokeslamming leon or smth idk
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cecilxa · 1 year
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how stupid it must be to get unwell (fall in love)
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summary: scaramouche takes care of a special someone
contents: scaramouche being dumb about his feelings, use of both scaramouche + wanderer, sick fic, reader is sick, established relationship, fluff, gn!reader
cw: small scara threat, food
recommend listening to: i <3 u by boy pablo
a/n: part 3 of my winter special!
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“Idiot.”
A pout forms on your face.
“It’s not my fault I got sick!”
You then proceed to let out a series of coughs, each one more violent than the last. Scaramouche scowls.
“You're an actual moron. You’re not supposed to be talking. Save all that energy for when you can actually utter a sentence properly. You need to get better.”
With how harsh he sounds, any onlooker would’ve thought that this man despises you. Quite the opposite, actually. You can hear his voice soften, by a fraction.
“I swear, get better soon, otherwise I won’t hesitate to strike you down myself.”
When you reply with another cough, his eyes gleam, and a hand comes to stroke your head softly, allowing two of his fingers to twirl a strand of your hair. In a much more comforting tone (at least, for him), he places a bowl of soup on your lap, making sure none of it spills onto your skin.
“Now, eat this before I make you.”
You reply with a teasing lilt.
“Okay, ‘Wanderer’, I guess if I want to get better.”
It’s almost comical how you can see his jaw tense up at the use of his current alias, spare fist clenching at his side. He tsks.
“You know, I’ve told you again and again, you don’t have to call me that. Call me whatever you want.”
His voice goes down an octave, and it’s fairly obvious how he’s sporting a subtle pink blush on his otherwise pale cheeks. You decide not to comment on it.
The hand stroking your hair pauses, and comes down to the spoon currently sitting in the bowl of soup he had personally made for you. You know this.
What you don’t know is that it took him an hour to find the perfect recipe, the one that you said reminded you of home. You don’t know how it had taken him an hour to actually make it, displeased with each attempt, deeming each one ‘too mediocre’ for your tastebuds. He had finally settled on the one currently sitting on your lap, but not without his own touch. A tiny, minuscule heart (made out of some leftover cream) settled slightly on the left, which- and he’s not proud of this- made his own race a bit faster. He’s not really sure why he added it, but he’s sure that it’d make you feel better. Oh well, he reasons, he doesn’t mind getting a bit romantic, as long as you’re happy.
Scaramouche may not want to admit it to himself, but there’s a tingly feeling in his chest, one that stings whenever he sees your stuffy nose and clammy hands. It’s that same tingly feeling he’s now experiencing, when he’s demanding you to eat your soup. It’s that same tingly feeling when he sees the little cream heart decorating the bland food. Scaramouche may not want to admit that what he feels is love.
“Open up.”
You look at him- shocked. He stares back- deadpan.
“Did I stutter?”
With a very flustered expression on your face, you take the spoon from him. He continues staring at you, patiently waiting. In only a few minutes the soup is gone. Even though you’ve finished the entire thing, he still frowns. However, you’ve been with him long enough to know this frown is the one reserved only for you. His eyes are caressing, gentle, caring, even though his mouth is turned down. It’s not turned down that much, either. It’s bordering on one of his quiet smiles when he thinks you aren’t looking.
Scaramouche sighs. He still hasn’t noticed how fond he sounds. He still hasn’t noticed how much adoration he carries for you.
“Do you need anything else?”
You shake your head, smiling up at him. He has to resist smiling back. There it is again, that tingling in his chest. How peculiar, it’s warm, so unfamiliar, yet so familial. He doesn’t think he wants it to go away.
He plants a gentle kiss on your forehead. He lets it linger for a few seconds. Then, turning away, Scaramouche gets up to head out and clean the now-empty bowl, and spoon. Your voice stops him just as he gets to the door, making his head turn immediately, eyes full of concern.
“Love you, ‘Wanderer’.”
His grip on the bowl tightens, and his breath hitches.
“... Idiot.”
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a/n: decided to try out a new layout for speech! undecided on whether or not i'll use it in the future? likes, reblogs and comments are always appreciated ❣️
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wlwsakura · 9 months
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some more knight winter
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boxofoxberry · 2 months
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two door cinema club got me thinking about them boogieing it down. they make me so sick
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chouqs · 7 months
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(♩*) ᶻ 🐇 ⋆ 𖦁ׅ
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(♩*) ᶻ 💿 ⋆ 𖦁ׅ
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hexfrogs · 10 months
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mister caduceus clay for @ocularae :3c
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ningcatt · 6 months
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◍ (✿ ◞◟) 🐰 @ujito
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◍ (✿ ◞◟) 🎞️ @y-ves
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moonlightperseus · 7 hours
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breathe in the feeling
ambiguously set after the first half of s7 | 867 words
Being in love with Buck wasn’t an option.
It can’t be an option.
Because if it was, Eddie might do something stupid, like kiss his best friend.
Which is—not an option.
Eddie’s done that song and dance before, and that ended badly—leaving and being left, divorce papers, blood on hot asphalt.
But the thing is, Eddie can’t stop thinking about it. It’s been over a month since Buck came out to him, and Eddie can’t stop thinking about how Buck is an option now.
Which isn’t even entirely true, because Buck is with Tommy—Buck is happy with Tommy—and Eddie feels like his entire world is collapsing in on itself.
He broke up with Marisol last week, something that up until this moment, he hadn’t told anyone, not even Christopher—which he knows he can only avoid for so long.
He’s not even sure why he’s telling Bobby, because now Bobby is staring at him quizzically and Eddie is feeling closer to a panic attack than he’s been in a long time.
“You broke up with Marisol,” Bobby repeats back to him, because he’s been waiting for Eddie to continue and Eddie has made a point out of staring at his hands and not saying anything as his brain spirals. “Do you want to talk about that?”
“No,” Eddie says, because he really doesn’t—but he sucks in a sharp breath and rips the band-aid off anyways, “I think I might be in love with Buck.”
Bobby doesn’t say anything for what feels like an eternity.
Eddie finally gives in and looks at him, Bobby’s face is a carefully crafted blank expression—he’s processing the information Eddie has given him, but he’s not going to give any reaction in the meantime.
Eddie resists dropping his head against the table and instead settles for staring at the dormant alarm bell on the wall and hoping for it to start ringing to save him from this situation.
“I see,” Bobby says finally, “that’s… that must be a lot for you to process.”
“Understatement of the century,” Eddie mumbles, allowing himself to drop his head into his hands—it’s not quite as satisfying as the thunk of his forehead against the table would be.
“So how long have you been… processing this?”
“I don’t know, a couple weeks, maybe—” —my whole life, possibly, he doesn’t say.
A hand lands on his shoulder, the touch is gentle and grounding, and Eddie is reminded of why he went to Bobby in the first place.
“Eddie,” Bobby says carefully, “there’s nothing wrong with it—being in love with Buck. If that is how you feel, there’s nothing wrong with that.”
Eddie exhales slowly, because that’s the whole thing, isn’t it? “I know that—logically, I know that. I’ve never had a problem with—I guess it’s different, when it’s yourself. But it’s not like it’s even—I mean, Buck’s with Tommy—Buck’s happy with Tommy—and Tommy’s my friend too, so it is kind of wrong, in a way.” 
“Buck being in a relationship with someone else doesn’t make your feelings for him invalid—or wrong. Sure, maybe it’s a little complicated since you consider them both friends. But whatever you’re feeling—you’re allowed to feel it.” 
“But what am I supposed to do with it?” Eddie finally meets Bobby’s gaze, “I mean—I feel like I’m lying to Buck, somehow, by feeling this way—by not saying anything.”
“Maybe you don’t have to do anything with it, at least—not right away,” Bobby squeezes his shoulder before removing his hand, “maybe right now you just let yourself feel it. I’m not saying you shouldn’t be honest with Buck, but I think maybe you should start by allowing yourself to be honest with you.” 
Eddie stares at Bobby, completely and painfully aware of his own heart beating in his chest, it’s not a panic attack, but he knows it’s a warning sign. 
He takes a moment to breathe slowly, the way Frank taught him. Bobby says nothing, waiting patiently 
“I don’t know what that looks like.” Eddie says honestly. 
Bobby offers him a kind smile, “That’s okay, you don’t have to have it all figured out, but maybe allow yourself the time to really think about it?”
“What if I lose him?” The words spill out of him unbidden. 
“Eddie, if there’s one thing I know for sure, it’s that you and Buck have a way of finding each other, no matter the circumstance, the two of you will always fight to find each other again.” 
Eddie blinks, and for a moment, all he sees is Buck, covered in Eddie’s own blood, begging for him to hold on. 
He blinks again, and the memory fades, and it’s just Bobby sitting there in front of him, watching him carefully.
“Let yourself feel it, Eddie,” Bobby says gently, “and when you’re ready—talk to Buck.”
The bell rings then, because timing never seems to be on Eddie’s side. 
Bobby sighs softly, “well, duty calls.”
Bobby stands to head towards the engine bay, but before Eddie can do the same, Bobby rests a hand on his shoulder again, “I’m really proud of you, Eddie.”
He lets the words settle over him for a moment—breathing slowly in and out—and then follows after his Captain. 
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mikeypoof · 7 months
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Huntlow/Winter<3 i adore this ship so much. Also, early happy Halloween:]
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satoumafuyuss · 1 year
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my favorite nerds 💚💛 
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