#Skiing in Banff

[rabaloch786]

Exploring the Natural Wonders of Banff, Alberta, Canada

Exploring the Natural Wonders of Banff, Alberta, Canada

Nestled in the heart of the Canadian Rockies, Banff, Alberta, is a destination that epitomizes the wild beauty and serene landscapes Canada is renowned for. With its towering peaks, pristine lakes, and diverse wildlife, Banff National Park, a UNESCO World Heritage site, offers an unparalleled travel experience. This guide will take you through the must-see sights, activities, and insider tips to make the most of your visit to this stunning corner of the world

Introduction to Banff National Park

Full Video

[elinerlina2]

Banff National Park, Alberta Canada

[thorsenmark]

Welcome to Canadian Nature! (Banff National Park) by Mark Stevens Via Flickr: A setting looking to the southwest while taking in views of a nearby forest and then more distant mountains while at the Crowfoot Glacier Viewpoint. This is along the Icefields Parkway in Banff National Park. My thought on composing this image was to use the layers across this setting with the forest and then mountains but have a leveled-on view to let that setting fill most of the image. Some of that was because of the sun and noticing a few artifacts across the lens. But I also wanted to capture what amounted to a wide angle, panoramic feel with this image and worked my way to line up and compose the setting, given the mid afternoon sun.

[dreamertrilogys]

Really in my pathetic baby deer era

[cedarboughs]

Spray River, January 16

[miksak]

[techdriveplay]

Planning the Perfect Winter Getaway

The allure of a winter getaway, with its promise of powdery slopes, cozy fireside evenings, and scenic snow-covered landscapes, beckons the adventurous at heart. Whether you’re a seasoned snow enthusiast or looking to immerse yourself in the magic of winter for the first time, planning the perfect winter getaway requires thoughtful consideration. Here’s how to ensure your winter vacation is…

[underzemilkyway]

Friday Night Light - by Jason Edlund

Last friday I spent the evening up at Moraine Lake. Of all the times I've been up here I have never had a killer sunrise or sunset, so I thought I would try something different. Ive been trying to find an 'original' shot here or at least something different than the average ho hum shots that I usually leave with. I am a big fan of Floris van Breugel & his night shots. I used his technique so check him out if you get the chance

[mogulskiworld]

Banff Ski Resort

Experience Banff ski resort with Mogul Ski World: Nestled in the heart of the Canadian Rockies, Banff Ski Resort offers world-class skiing and breathtaking views. Enjoy pristine slopes and après-ski activities for all ages. Book your adventure today with Mogul Ski World!

[rabaloch786]

Exploring the Natural Wonders of Banff, Alberta, Canada

Established in 1885 as Canada's first national park, Banff covers over 6,641 square kilometers (2,564 square miles) of mountainous terrain. The park is a haven for outdoor enthusiasts, offering a wide range of activities such as hiking, skiing, wildlife viewing, and hot springs soaking. The charming town of Banff, located within the park, serves as a perfect base for exploring the surrounding wilderness.

Full Video

Getting to Banff

[winkofcharm]

Spinning, Spinning, Spun - Prologue

Here we go

[next]

Being the child of a billionaire philanthropist was easy, being the child of The Batman? That was hard. 

Showing up at galas and fundraisers dressed to the nines, playing the part of a quiet, intelligent and obedient offspring was mind-numbing, but easy enough once you had been to enough - it simply became a game of ‘monkey see, monkey do’ - by copying the mannerisms of those that attended alongside their own ludicrously wealthy parents, you blended right in. 

Laughing at the same unfunny joke several years running, complimenting the all-too-vain trophy spouses, and not entirely subtly referencing the achievements of yourself, your father and your siblings in order to remind everyone else that the Wayne family were the top dogs of Gotham? Child's play.

At least, on the nights the rest of the family deigned to attend with you. 

It was easy to excuse one or two missing family members -

“Dick? Oh, he's so upset he couldn’t attend, but you know, he’s so busy these days in Bludhaven. Of course I’ll let him know you asked after him - and Tim? Another late night at the office, Wayne enterprises is expanding, and I’m sure you know how that goes with your husband being on the board - Father? Well, between you and me, he’s currently out of the country at a tech show, something about a jet ski that can go 150 mph - boys and their toys, hahaha.”

It was even easy explaining their injuries, so long as you made sure the story lined up. Easy to explain, however, didn’t make it easy to see them so injured. And it drove you mad. You weren’t involved in the vigilante life, you didn’t want to be, not really - not after Tim broke both legs. 

And even if you wanted to be, Bruce would never have allowed it. It was an unspoken rule, that while you knew about their activities, you were to be kept as far away from them as possible. 

You were never to have the details, and other than the basic self defense course given to the other students at Gotham Prep, you weren’t to be involved in any of the violence. It kept you safe, kept you secure, kept you alone.

Ready to be shipped off to any corner of the world for a photo shoot, and while you were alone on these trips, you’d forward the pictures you snapped off to Barbara for a quick and untraceable photoshop, deep fake job - making sure the images lined up with whatever excuse the family needed. 

And then they’d be returned to you, and uploaded to whichever social media ensured the most views - making sure as many people as possible knew you and Damian were enjoying some sibling time in Banff. As if you’d been in the same room as him for longer than an hour in the last month. As if you greeted each other with more than a subtle nod and tense shoulders. 

You were the Wayne family spin doctor, making sure the public saw only the best. Even if it meant you never really got a chance to see your family outside of a group chat that merely kept you informed of comings and goings and what events they would or wouldn’t be able to make.  Even if it meant that holidays, and birthdays, and any sort of celebration meant you were alone - staring out of a hotel room window, just to make sure that if someone mentioned the Wayne family jet was in Copenhagen, an actual member of the Wayne family was with it. 

Maybe it sounded spoiled, sounded nepo-baby wah-wah, but spending almost all your time flitting between cities and countries, pretending to be with people you’d hadn’t even been in the same room as in the last year was so draining.  Repeatedly filming tiktok after tiktok, pretending to be laughing at a joke made by someone who was a continent away, who was “just totes shy” to show up on camera themselves, who actually hadn’t said more than “Thanks for the cover” over a shitty text message sent from a burner - was so very, very lonely. 

And when you were on the same continent? In the same city? Miraculously in the same home? Nothing. A wave, a “hey, how was xyz?”, and maybe a request to help them keep a story straight - “Do you mind making it a vegan latte next time in the snap? Everyone thinks I’m on a new diet-” and a staged photo, where poor Barbara would have to edit you and your siblings just a little closer together. Not your siblings, they were always willing to be plenty close in photos - just you. You’d be edited to be standing side-by-side, instead of with that awkward foot of space you usually kept. Both unable, or unwilling to be any closer. 

It wasn’t always like this, you recall, at least, not on your side, and maybe not on theirs either - but that could just be the rose-coloured glasses of nostalgia. 

When you first arrived at Wayne Manor, between Dick leaving and Jason arriving, you tried your best to adapt. You listened to Dick complain about being smothered, but never quite understood how, until Jason, believing you already knew, revealed that he had sorta, kinda, replaced Dick as Robin. 

Bruce was so angry after that. He sat you and Jason both down, and scolded you both. Jason for revealing the truth, and you for learning it. After doling out Jason’s punishment (A month, no Robin. No matter how Jason protested, he needed to learn the value and importance of keeping secrets), he sent him off and kept you behind. 

Sitting in that cold room, the bookcases surrounding you, the fire dead in its pit, the portrait of Thomas and Martha Wayne, your grandparents, looming behind Bruce - his fierce dark eyes staring into your own. Towering over your small frame, you began to shiver. From the cold? From fright? You couldn’t recall. But you could remember the words your Father, The Batman, imparted on you;

“It’s for your safety. I’ll answer any questions you have tonight, and that’s it. We’ll not talk about this again - you’re to stay away from Jason, and Dick, and from anything else to do with this, understood?”

And that really was it. A forced distance between yourself and the others he’d bring in. Jason would occasionally run into you in the hall, before immediately bolting in the other direction. Dick, once he started coming by again, would do the same. Any time you tried to approach, tried to speak to them, you’d recall the harsh glare of your Father, of Bruce, of Batman, and the words would die on your tongue. 

But you were curious, for a while. Of the secret lives they lead, of how they balanced between the light and dark. You’d watch them from your corner of the room, seeing how your Father taught them even in the day how to be more, as he encouraged them both to grow and experience the world, while keeping you at more than an arm’s length. 

How he’d coddled them when they were sick. 

You remember stumbling out of your room one night after having missed school, half-lucid, nose clogged and throat scratchy - a cold you’d picked up a day or so before from a classmate (and no doubt, had accidentally infected Jason with) - and saw them there. 

Batman and Robin, posted firmly on a couch, side-by-side. You couldn’t make out the words he said, but you could hear the low hum of your Father’s words comforting him. You could hear Jason’s sniffling and weak cough. And then Alfred appeared at the end of the hallway, two cups of hot tea seated securely on a silver tray.  He paused in front of you, eyes flickering between you, half shrouded in the dark, and the scene playing out in the parlour, before giving a slight nod -

“Is everything okay, young master?” It was barely a whisper, careful to not be heard by the others. 

Throat too sore to form words, you looked at him through hazy eyes, and nodded, before moving past him, towards the kitchen from where he came, to find your own relief, to make your own tea, leaving Alfred to join the others in their intimate tableau. The next day, a message from Bruce, to you, by way of Alfred -

“Make sure you don’t miss any more school.” 

Your interest in them waned as, clearly, they had no interest in you, and finally, all interest ceased when the incident happened. 

Jason went missing.

Bruce went after him.

Jason died.  

Bruce came back, with only a lie to give you - that if anyone were to ask -

“A family trip gone wrong; a terrorist attack, we were looking for his mother in Ethiopia and -” 

The first time you were asked to cover for the activities of your family. And as it turned out, you were really good at lying. At making people believe your words and actions, letting them see you cry at Jason’s funeral (although those tears had been real. Not because you and Jason had been close, but because he was a kid, just a few years older than you, and he was dead dead dead). 

You thought, perhaps cruelly, selfishly, that perhaps Bruce may turn his attention towards you - now that only you were left in that house. He didn’t. He locked himself away, and the few times that you did manage to see him before, became less and less. Alfred would do his best, to pass any messages along between the two of you - a request to have dinner together, to attend a parent-teacher meeting, to do anything that may lead to you building a bond, that he might someday coddle you the way he did Jason - all for naught. 

He buried himself in Batman, and you? You, as Bruce Wayne’s oldest biological child, started getting offers for teen magazine interviews, and modeling contracts - thirteen, and a nepo-baby. Alfred pushed you to accept them, it would expand your world, he said. You’d make friends, make contacts and connections, things you would need later in life. 

It made no sense why people wanted to know more about you, but you indulged them nonetheless. You created social media accounts, and began posting about the little things. And the followers came naturally - either because they genuinely liked your content, or because they wanted a sneak peak into the Wayne lifestyle. 

And as long as you kept your grades up, and gave no hints into your Fathers actual life, Bruce signed off on every permission needed. From their lawyers, to your Father’s lawyers, to him, and then to you. Half the time you weren’t even sure what you were being sent off for. It was one such occasion, a modeling photo shoot with other “influential and famous” teens, you were sent off halfway around the world, and returned to find another Robin stalking the halls. 

You knew Tim Drake, had been in classes with him, up until you started getting on-set tutors flown into your various engagements. He had been quiet, top of the class, a real whiz kid. And apparently, had learned the secret of Batman and Robin(s) all by himself. 

There was no need for your Father to warn him off of you or you of him, Tim kept his distance by himself. And you were hardly ever in the Manor for longer than a week or two, and despite spending that week or two at Gotham Prep alongside Tim, your groups never really mixed. You knew of each other, acknowledged each other in the hall, and that was all. 

It worked well, until a request from Bruce came through Alfred, to start including Tim in your posts, in your interviews, dropping hints about how close you had grown since your Father took him under his wing (not adopted, not like Jason - Tim’s parents were absent, not dead, not yet). It forced you together during the time you were actually at school, and the busier you got, the less time you spent there and the easier it became to fake the friendship. 

Anything to keep the illusion, to keep up the Wayne family reputation. And you learned how easy it was to lie to the world. 

Then Cassandra Cain came along, and you lied more. Posts about having a sister, finally. A touch of femininity. Even if you had not actually met the girl. Bruce took her in while you were away, again.  By the time you actually met, all of your followers and fans thought you were thick as thieves. That you had spa days together, been on trips around the world. 

She didn’t even know your name, when you finally returned to The Manor, no one had told her about you. No one thought to, after all, you were you - the new face of the Wayne Family, now that Brucie had a family to raise. Stephanie, Tim’s girlfriend at the time, also known as Spoiler, excused it as Cassandra not really having social media, so how would she know who you were? And God did that sting. Bruce adopted a girl, expected you to fake an entire siblingship in front of the entire world, and she didn’t even know your name. 

Alfred, at least, had the decency to look ashamed, when she asked who the stranger in the Manor was. He informed her quickly of who you were, that you weren’t connected in any way with the after-dark activities, and that it was to be kept that way. But, if for any reason, a cover story was needed, to tell him and he would pass it along to you, and you would make it happen.  And Cassandra, for what it was worth, did try to reach out once - but remembering Batman’s glare, the cold of his study, and the words he spoke, you rebuffed her, a nonchalant brush off, designed to send her back to the others, and it worked. She only ever went through Alfred, to pass along the lies she needed you to spew. 

And finally, just shortly after turning 17, you met him. The blood brother, Damian.

Damian, your half brother by the beautiful and deadly Talia Al Ghul, raised to be an assassin, to be everything you weren’t. It was only natural for him to become the next Robin, as all the boys your Father raised did. It was also only natural for him to hate you. You, weak and untrained. Undisciplined, and to the world, a ditzy, self-absorbed socialite. You expected him to be like the rest, to ignore your existence unless needed for something - but Damian went out of his way to challenge you. Demanded to know how you had swindled your way into the Manor, into the family. Despairing how your ways sullied the bloodline, tarnished the very name he claimed for his own. 

You let it slide, for the most part. What could you do? You were a civilian, it wasn’t like you could actually duel him, no matter how much he called for it. Dick, in a rare moment of actually speaking to you, explained that he was troubled, that he didn’t mean it, and if you could, pretty, pretty please, make it look like Damian wasn’t a feral child in the media?

So, while Damian cursed out your whore of a mother, you let him stand beside you in pictures. Even publicly entertained the idea of his attending as your cavalier to Le Bal des Debutantes, as you made your official steps into polite society. And Damian, for all his anger and hatred of you, at least agreed that presenting a united front was best - even if he called you every name under the sun. Even if he sliced your hand on purpose, for a blood test, he said - never apologizing. 

He did eventually, as Dick said he would, cool down. If only enough to ignore you like the others. He let you work peacefully, as long as you did the same. 

It became easier and easier to spin the stories you needed to with each addition to the family at least, since if they weren’t “with” you, you could excuse them as being off with each other. A large happy family, a large busy family, couldn’t be together 100% of the time, you know. Even if they were together nearly 100% of the time, without you, well, it was what it was. At least you were needed, if not particularly wanted. They needed you to lie to everyone else for them - needed someone to be the poster image of the Wayne family. If this was the only way to be connected to the rest, you’d take it.

Even if it meant spending weeks and months alone, even if it meant lying to everyone and anyone you knew about how much your family loved you. Not being involved with the real family business meant not being in danger. It was how they kept you safe, kept you secure - at least it did, until it didn’t. 

Until someone decided the perfect Wayne family needed breaking.

Until the easiest target was a lone straggler, halfway around the world - out of sight and out of the mind of the rest. 

Until you went missing. 

And the lies crumbled.

[thorsenmark]

The Big Bend Along the Icefields Parkway (Banff National Park) by Mark Stevens Via Flickr: While at the Big Bend overlook with a view looking southeast in Banff National Park. I have been to this point several times on my trips to Alberta and truly love the way the mountains rise up on both sides of the highway! So my thought on composing this image was to take advantage of those mountainsides and angle my Nikon SLR camera to bring out a sweeping view, looking down this valley. I pulled back on the focal length so that it would bring out more of a wider-angle and panoramic feel to fill up the image and setting.

[snoopyhughes]

it's you, it's you, it's really all for you (nh13)

Happy winter fic exchange @puckology101 !!! For the plot I had in mind, I didn't think a Swiss Alps trip was realistic but I hope this does the trick. I tried to detail the beautiful Banff scenery as best as I could (especially for someone who has never been!) so I hope you could truly envision that.

As always, @wyattjohnston Demi thank you so much for hosting this event for our community!

This is 2k+ words, I don't believe there's any mentions of any defining traits but I have not done a thorough check to ensure that this is safe for all to read. If you would like me to do that, shoot me a message and I'm more than willing to double check.

Title from Video Games by Lana del Rey (the live version, iykyk) this is loosely edited!

Nico Hischier, in hind sight, was thrilled that Switzerland was not a part of the four nations tournament. His logical, captain sense knows that he should want to play hockey all the time, work on his game, and he does really love international play. However, he needed a break. The high powered, adrenaline filled season had taken a toll on his body and his mental capacity.

But deep down, he was thrilled. Because that means he gets to go on a trip with his best friend, Y/N. When some of the guys who weren't going to four nations decided to get a group together and take a trip to Banff, complete with skiing, the beautiful winter scenery, and two hot tubs on the property, he jumped on the opportunity, even faster when he knew Y/N could come with.

Dawson insisted that he invited his girlfriend because he promised her a trip on the all star break but she ended up not being able to go. Soon enough, almost all of the guys were inviting their partners, save for Luke who insisted on bringing his best friend Dylan Duke, never one for formalities with girls.

Nico was chronically single, but always by choice. He does not have enough fingers and toes to count the amount of times he's tried to show you how much he loves you, more than a friend, but it never works. Either you're lovingly clueless or you don't feel the same way, the latter causing a pit in his stomach. That being said, Nico will always pick you as his plus one to pretty much anything. If you ever suggest that he find a real date, someone who he might want to be romantically involved with, he shrugs it off immediately, letting you know that "he doesn't have time for a relationship right now" and that "you make him happier than any relationship ever could."

Everything leading up to the trip was relatively smooth. The private jet flight (that you'd never get used to) was like flying on a resort, you were able to get time off work with no problem, and even the packing didn't seem like as much of a chore as it usually does. But things started getting interesting as soon as you, Nico, and the group made it to the ski resort. You always knew you'd be sharing a room, that much never bothered you. You'd shared hotel rooms with him before, having not been a first timer on an all star break trip, which is essentially what this was. Coincidentally, all of the people on the trip ended up with rooms right next to each other. When you opened the door, you saw one huge king bed staring right at you.

You and Nico shared a look, assuming that your room may have gotten mixed up with the others. Sure enough, when you knocked on everyone's door, they all had the same set up as you. The only room with two beds on the floor, it seemed, belong to Luke and Dylan. You thought of asking them to switch, but you could only imagine Luke's dramatics and theatrics if you tried to suggest switching rooms.

"It really doesn't bother me, Y/N. As long as it doesn't bother you, I'm fine with it. Besides, did you see the size of that bed? It could probably fit a third person in there also." You really didn't know why you were so nervous. Of course, you had known you had feelings for Nico. But you always felt that Nico could never have any feelings for you. You had watched Nico flirt with girls in the bar after games, even on the trips you went on, awkwardly tagging along on his side. It was the same way he flirted with you sometimes. It made you feel like you were just another girl for him to flirt with. He had a naturally flirty personality, and you were just another person who came in contact with that.

As you opened the door to the bedroom again, accepting your fate, you took a second to look around and truly take in the room. You were amazed at what you saw. When you first walked into the room, you could clearly see the bathroom, with a jacuzzi tub and a waterfall shower, and even a double vanity sink. In addition to the huge bed, there was a massive TV set up across from it, some of the softest towels you've ever countered in your life, and a huge glass sliding door. When you moved the curtains, you couldn't help the gasp that had came over your mouth.

Nico had seen tons of beautiful mountain scenery in his lifetime, growing up in Switzerland. He had seen the mountains, the snow, all of it. And sure, you had seen snow. It was usually tinged with grey and brown, tire tracks and footprints ruining its true beauty. This, this pure, unaltered beauty of the mountain scene in Banff, it took your breath away. Nico couldn't help but smile, seeing your pure joy, watching the breath get stolen from your mouth as you observed the scenes around you.

"Nico this is... wow," you gasped, leaning in when he wrapped his arm around you, feeling him rest his head atop of yours. Your heart fluttered, feeling like you were meant to be here. "You're my best friend," you smiled nuzzling into his side. "Yeah, my best friend."

You should've known with the room situation that the guys were up to something. After all, Dawson insisted on booking the rooms, saying that Nico deserved a break from his "captain duties," causing Nico to rebut that "booking rooms on a vacation is hardly a 'captain's duty.'" But when you turned away from the mountains, you were beginning to discover that it was possible that you and Nico had gotten the "honeymoon suite." You had your own private hot tub on the deck of your room, the first floor patio backing up into a beautiful mountain scene. You imagined snow falling onto your face and hair as you and Nico lounged in the hot tub together. Your cheeks heat up at the thought, causing you to pull away from Nico. You couldn't allow yourself to get too caught up in the what ifs. If Nico really wanted to make a move on you, he would make a move, not the same move he had made hundreds of other times.

You found yourself in your bathroom getting ready with the other girls that were on the trip. Nico had already gotten ready and was downstairs at the bar drinking with the guys. Since you had gotten in to the resort after 5, you knew no skiing would be happening, so you made reservations at a nice restaurant in downtown Banff.

"So, how's it going with you and Nico? Do you like the room?" Dawson's girlfriend giggling, nudging you in the side. "I knew that couldn't have been accidental. Dawson seemed way too excited watching me trying to figure out how to unlock the room door," you laughed, nudging her right back. "It's so foolish. You both clearly love each other, but neither of you will make a move. It makes no sense. If you guys won't do it, someone else had to try it." You sighed, putting the cap on your lip gloss.

"I know what you mean, but I really don't think Nico likes me back. He acts the same way with every other girl he's come across. If Nico really wants to be with me, I want him to make it known, make it obvious. Do something that lets me know that it's me only, not me and the girls at the bar, not me and the girls who wait for him after games, just me." Whether you realized it or not, the other girls were silently taking notes, and as soon as you went to the bathroom at dinner, they told Nico.

When you arrived with the girls at the restaurant, you learned the guys were already waiting at a table. Nico's eyes lit up when he saw you, smiling wide and blushing at your prolonged eye contact. As you came closer to the table, he took a step toward you, pulling you into a hug. His large hand ran along your back as he pulled you in close, causing goosebumps to raise up your arms and on the back of your neck.

"You look absolutely stunning," he whispered in your ear, causing your cheats to heat up, a smile just as big as Nico's. Nico only pulled away to pull your chair out for you, again causing your cheeks to heat up, the girlfriends smiling around you, although you had genuinely no idea because you couldn't stop staring at Nico.

They wondered how you couldn't see how much he cared for you, more than anyone, especially any other girl. Even the guys could see how much he cared for you. The girls understood deep down, knowing how difficult it can be to be able to fully trust a man, especially if you had been hurt in the past by one. Because yes, they were taking notes to share with Nico. But they really didn't need to. And everything they told him, he already knew.

He knew exactly where you'd want to eat, knowing that you craved your comfort food when you were tired. It was the perfect place to eat after a travel day, and getting to the hotel when it was already dark. He knew your preferred seating choice, and of course he knew that you would want a table with a view of the mountains. He didn't care how much it cost him, or that he had to name drop himself (and Luke) to get the table with the view. All that mattered was that he could sit across from you, and watch you admire the view, while he admired you, which was really all that mattered to him.

And nothing felt more perfect than when the rest of the couples started either making their way back to the resort or to the next stop on their drinking trip down the Main Street in Downtown, you and Nico stayed. The two of you stayed, his hand softly brushing yours as you talked, him with his back to the window, taking that spot specifically so that you could see the scenery. And even as everyone left, leaving the two of you at the table alone, all he wanted to do was look at you. The way you smiled, the way your eyes crinkled at the corners when you laughed, even the soft yawn you let out towards the end of the night made him smile, his cheeks hurting at the end of the night.

When the uber dropped you two off at the resort at the end of the night, Nico held the door open for you, helping you back into the room. When he moved from the front of your view and you saw what he had done, you couldn't stop the gasp from coming from your mouth. How he had done it while being at the restaurant and you being the last to leave the room, you truly didn't know. But you didn't need the logistics, because it all settled in for you.

It's you. It's always you. It always has been, and always will be. The most beautiful bouquets of your favorite flowers sat around the room, no flower petals on the floor because you both agreed that that was impractical. A bucket of champagne sat cooling right by the glass doors that outlooked the view, the most perfect view. It was then you realized that it was more than Dawson who picked this room, it was Nico, wanting to share the space with you. It was Nico who knew how much you'd love the view. It's Nico. It always has been, and it always will be.

When your eyes locked from across the room, your eyes finally looking up at his, which you knew had been on yours the whole time, you couldn't cross the room fast enough. And when your lips locked with his, everything else floated away. It was like nothing else mattered. As the snow fell in the background just behind you, you knew that it didn't matter where you were, and it didn't matter who came in the way. It was always you.

[cedarboughs]

Skoki Valley, January 2019

[sleepymirko]

Reaction to s/o liking winter but being very chilly (part 2)

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Featuring Bachira Meguru, Reo Mikage, Nagi Seishiro

Fluff

Let me know if there's errors! Enjoy!

..•°•..•°•..•°•..•°•..•°•..•°•..•°•..•°•..•°•..•°•..

“Y/N, I finished showering. The bathroom’s all yours if you need it,” Bachira said, entering your shared bedroom. When he’d left to shower, you had been engrossed in a book, and you barely nodded at him when he left.

You raised your head and what you saw was enough to make you freeze under covers.

Your boyfriend was standing with only a towel around his hips, droplets falling from his bicoloured locks and the most bizarre thing was that he wasn't shivering in the slightest.

"I was already freezing under the covers but seeing you like this... Feels like torture" you said shivering slightly.

The boy simply chuckled and walked towards the bed, sitting comfortably on the edge, right next to you.

"Are we sure you're not sick? Today is less cold than last week"

"It's probably your fault"

"How is that even possible?"

"You're half naked Meguru???" You said looking at him slightly wide eyed, a smile creeping up your face.

"Oh."

"You're gonna catch a cold at this rate"

"I swear I'm not feeling cold maybe because the house is warm.. wait a minute .."

You looked at him confused as he looked like he had an idea.

"Why don't you go take a shower? You'll feel even better, no?" He said smiling proudly.

"A hot shower is what you need, trust me!"

You looked up, considering his suggestion. It wasn't a bad idea, maybe it was what you needed.

"Okay, why not.." you nodded and Bachira smiled and quickly got up.

"Let's go then" he said offering his hand to you.

You looked at him, noticing that glimmer in his eyes that only meant one thing. He was going to shower again, but this time with you.

"...you realize that you already showered, don’t you?"

"Eheh, let's just say that I forgot to put the shampoo on my hair" he said smiling, faking innocence. What a menace.

..•°•..•°•..•°•..•°•..•°•..•°•..•°•..•°•..•°•..•°•..

You and Reo had been thinking about what to do for the holiday season in his studio. Saying that Reo was a great planner was an understatement, the guy already thought about 7 holiday location ideas for impressing his girl.

"You already have seven ideas for our holidays?" You asked shocked, struggling to hold your smile at how determined your boyfriend looked.

"Absolutely, and let me tell you which location I thought of.." he said bringing his laptop closer to her.

"First of all, we have Finland. Apparently there's a Santa Village in a certain city called 'Rovaniemi'. If Finland is not speaking to your soul there's Banff in Canada, the place has a lot of mountains and offsprings. Skiing must be fantastic there" he said smiling while checking with her the photos.

"When can even plan on going to the Alps, if you want something more quiet we can pass the holidays in Kyoto, between tea houses and snowy landscapes.."

While Reo kept talking, you couldn't help but smile. And shiver slightly.

But Reo surely hadn't missed that.

"Oh? Is my princess freezing? Should we move the planning in front of the fireplace?" He offered as he looked at her with a soft smile, finding her wrapped in a warm blanket cute. Once he picked up the laptop, he offered his hand, and they both moved toward the fireplace in their living room.

Sitting there, he placed her on his lap and handled her his laptop. "While I keep you warm, feel free to choose the location of our holiday." He said and continued, this time speaking into her ear. "I'll handle the rest".

..•°•..•°•..•°•..•°•..•°•..•°•..•°•..•°•..•°•..•°•..

"You're always cold" Nagi mumbled, thumbs moving around his controller as his focus was mostly on the boss he was fighting.

You guys agreed on a simple cozy weekend, with videogames keeping you company as you guys were doing co-op together.

"How are you not feeling cold Nagi?" You asked as despite you were helping him with the boss your controller was under the warm comforter.

"I'm completely fine." When he finished the boss, he laid the controller down the bed and handed her his hand. When she reached for it she looked at him surprised, his hand was really warm and she wondered if his body was like the rest.

"To be one that claims to love winter you have poor luck by suffering the cold like this" he said bluntly while picking up his controller, resuming playing as you rolled your eyes.

"Then why don't you keep me warm?" You asked half jokingly as you resumed playing with him as well.

He paused, giving her a sidelong glance. “Isn’t that, like, extra work?” he asked, sounding as unbothered as ever.

However, he stopped playing and wrapped an arm around you, letting you warm up close to him.

"Didn't you just say that was extra work?" you teased, as he sighed, the corners of his mouth turning up slightly, a shadow of a smile creeping into his usual unbothered expression.

With that, he leaned back, letting you curl up against him while he held the controller lazily in one hand, his other arm wrapped around your shoulders.

"You better worry about not turning into an Icycle" he paused looking at the game, his tone uneven yet with a hint of teasing. "that would be a real hassle."

Let me know if there's errors! Thank you for reading!

[gravitywonagain]

Mountain Immortal

(a Fresh Powder in the Pine Trees story)

.

Wei Ying is in the zone. 

It’s after lessons have closed on a Tuesday and he’s sitting at a table in the main lodge, editing his and Nie Huaisang’s latest video footage while waiting for Wen Qing to close up the clinic for the day. “Tangerine” is blasting in his headphones and his beat up laptop hasn’t overheated yet. The clips he’s working on are the fails, the attempts, the outtakes. They’re probably his favorites to go through because the pain has passed, but the lesson lives on, and, most of the time, they’re just really funny. Watching Jiang Cheng eat shit off a rail, while knowing that he’s fine, will never get old. 

So he’s totally in the zone. Which is probably why he doesn’t notice Lan Zhan over his shoulder until he feels a hand shaking him gently.

There’s something like panic in Lan Zhan’s voice when Wei Ying removes his headphones.

“When was this?” he asks.

“Ah? Lan Zhan…?”

“Are you hurt?”

“Am I — Lan Zhan, what’s wrong?”

Lan Zhan points to the screen where the Wei Ying of a little over a week ago just landed hard on his ass after a failed rail slide. 

“Ah, no, it’s fine. Wen Qing said all the bleeding was internal. That’s where the blood is supposed to be!”

Alarm lights in Lan Zhan's eyes, his eyebrows twitch toward his hairline.

“It’s a reference!" Wei Ying says, backpedaling hard and fast. "A bad reference. And a joke! Importantly, it’s a joke. I’m fine. I promise. No bleeding, internally or externally. Just a giant bruise on my ass. And on my pride."

Lan Zhan's expression settles out again, and Wei Ying takes a breath. He scoots his laptop over as Lan Zhan takes a seat, pressing play on the clip so that Lan Zhan can see the Wei Ying on the screen roll on the ground for a minute before hopping back up to his feet and trying the rail slide again.

"Nie Huaisang edits all of the good stuff," Wei Ying says. "I get to play with all the stuff he cuts out."

Lan Zhan hums as he watches Wei Ying fall off the rail a second time, though much less spectacularly than the first. "I didn't know you filmed snowboarding movies."

"Movies?" Wei Ying laughs. "You make me sound like Uncle Xiao. No, no. Just stupid little shit like this. Clips and compilations for YouTube. Huaisang just didn't want to go to film school."

“Uncle Xiao?” Of course he would pick up on that. Wei Ying can see him putting it together. He’s so smart. He can’t not. “Xiao Xingchen?”

Wei Ying really does try not to flaunt his connection to living legend Xiao Xingchen, backcountry snowboarder and filmmaker of many a ski resort employees' dreams. But Lan Zhan is Lan Zhan. His family does own this entire mountain. He won't likely be prone to the same starstruck jealousy as many of Uncle Song's rental techs.

“Uh, yeah. He was a close friend of my mom’s.”

Lan Zhan nods.

“He, uh. He used to film me when I was just learning. And then when I was getting better. He didn’t,” Wei Ying has to clear his throat against the memories before he continues, “he didn’t get into making movies for the money. He’s just always liked filming. Uncle Song fucking hates it. I still don’t know how Uncle Xiao convinced him to be in Distant Snow and Cold Frost.”

“Mr. Song does not seem the type to enjoy being filmed.”

“‘Mr. Song.’ So formal, Lan Zhan!”

“He is my coworker. And a department head.” 

“Sure, but he’s also a fucking knuckle-dragger. Just call him Song Lan. For me.”

Lan Zhan hesitates, and Wei Ying can see the impropriety of it eating away at him. But, after a moment, he acquiesces with a quiet, “Mn.”

“Have you seen any of Xiao Xingchen’s films?”

“I have. We screened Mountain Immortal here after it won an award at Banff.”

“Ah! I can’t watch that one without crying, like a lot.”

“It was a beautiful tribute.”

It was a beautiful tribute. Cangse Sanren, as she’s known in the world of winter sports, and Wei Changze had died in an avalanche in Colorado while Xiao Xingchen had been filming in Alaska. When he heard about it, Uncle Xiao had taken his movie about the history of splitboarding and made it into a memorial to his sister and her husband. Of course, it still flowed really well because he just made it a family thing. Grandma Baoshan was still a main feature as the inventor of the splitboard. She passed her backcountry spirit onto her kids and on down. 

There was so much home-video footage from Xiao Xingchen’s teenage fascination with cameras, so much footage of Wei Ying’s mom. Less of Wei Changze, but there was enough. 

Wei Ying pauses, considering how he wants to take this conversation. He could just pass this off as a passing interest, or shift to talking about outdoor sports in the film industry. But he’s been pushing Lan Zhan out of his comfort zone a lot. Possibly too much. He’s earned this, if he wants it. So Wei Ying takes a deep breath and says, “It’s my family.”

“Your… You’re Cangse Sanren’s son?”

“I am!” He smiles as bright and wide as he used to for her. It almost doesn't hurt to do it for Lan Zhan.

“So when you said ‘uncle,’ you meant…”

“Yeah! Mama was never formally adopted by Grandma Baoshan, but yeah. I meant jiujiu.”

This is the moment, usually, when someone will lavish him with sympathy, condolences or whatever. Wei Ying hates it, but he understands. Death is hard, but more than that it's weird. It lingers, haunting every relationship for the rest of forever.

But Lan Zhan doesn't say all the uncertain placating things that Wei Ying is used to. His face draws in, not in discomfort but in… understanding.

He hums, a small sad noise and then says, “My mom died when I was young, too.”

Wei Ying could almost fall over with relief. Which is. Not the reaction he should have to that. “Do you remember her?” he asks.

“A little. I was six.”

“Oh, I was fourteen.”

“Tell me about her?”

Wei Ying gasps a little, despite himself. “Really?”

“You don’t hav—”

“No, I’d like to. I just." Nobody has ever asked him that before. "Yeah! Okay.” 

Wei Ying takes a deep breath. He doesn’t really know where to start, so he just talks. He tells Lan Zhan stories from his childhood. Stories about snow and laughter and family. 

He talks about her smile and the way she always seemed to have snow in her braid. She used to spray him with powder every time he beat her down the hill. It was funny and very Mama, but it also taught him to go slower, to take his time on the slope. She refused to let anybody else teach him how to ride. She taught him to carve, first on groomers and then in powder. She used to put hand warmers in her boots because her toes were always cold. And she was just constantly losing pairs of goggles. 

He tells Lan Zhan the story of how Cangse Sanren and Wei Changze met. How they shared a chair at Park City and Wei Changze, a skier, had waited for Cangse to strap in. How he had followed her, kept up with her, impressed her. How she’d invited him for a drink at the lodge but, when they figured out that neither of them could afford ski resort alcohol, they’d crawled into the back of Wei Changze’s beat up station wagon and smoked weed in the parking lot. 

He tells him about skiing between his baba’s legs when he was too young to snowboard. About Wei Changze’s impressive will power and consistency, like how he would just quit drinking coffee occasionally when he felt he was too addicted. And his lifelong commitment to skis, despite his wife’s family’s many attempts to convert him. It won him great esteem from one of his mothers-in-law and… something else from the other. 

“Grandma Baoshan always called him an ‘unrepentant skier’ and I was never sure if she meant that as a compliment or an insult.”

He tells him about his first backcountry trip when he was 9. About the absurdly small splitboard Baoshan Sanren had built for him in her garage. And then about Baoshan Sanren’s garage. The things she made, the prototypes she’d scrapped. How Song Lan was, and still is, the only one she allowed to fully access the garage, not even her wife is allowed in there unsupervised. And the way she’d chase Xiao Xingchen away any time he’d tried to point a camera in her general direction. 

He talks about Xiao Xingchen and Song Lan and going on full family outings with all seven of them packing into two cars and driving to the slopes in the early morning dark. How little Wei Ying would just cruise up the skin tracks once they’d been broken in. How he’d built his muscles surrounded by family and fresh powder. How he’d learned early to earn his turns. 

“I’ll take you up a mountain the fun way sometime,” he offers, and then laughs, delighted by Lan Zhan’s eager acceptance. 

He tells stories of Song Lan teaching him how to do all of the practical maintenance on skis and snowboards and splitboards because he basically did all of it for the whole family. Wei Changze would help and Wei Ying would get the skins all tangled and stuck to each other. How difficult it can be to get that adhesive out of hair. Or hair out of the adhesive. 

“There’s actually a picture in Mountain Immortal,” he says, “of me sitting in a pile of probably ten pairs of skins that Baba and Uncle Song had piled on me because I was causing so much trouble.”

He tells Lan Zhan that his favorite memory, the one he always goes back to, is of just the three of them. They’re at a resort, actually. Which one doesn’t matter, Wei Ying wouldn’t be able to recall the name anyway. All he sees is Wei Changze with his ski poles stuck out behind him for his wife and son to hold onto as he skates the three of them over the flats. 

“I was probably eleven at the time? Mama was squatting low, keeping her board flat, but she kept reaching over and poking at my knees trying to make me fall over.”

He’s crying, he realizes. Laughing and crying. He wonders how long that’s been going on as he wipes the tears from his cheeks. 

It’s that motion that finally pulls him back into the present. The lodge is empty, there’s a red and white paper tray half-full of fries between him and Lan Zhan that he doesn’t remember either of them getting up to buy, but he can taste the salt on his tongue so he knows he’s eaten some. His laptop is dead, but its battery was low anyway. Still, it must have been at least an hour since Lan Zhan found him here. 

“Sorry,” Wei Ying says, “that was probably a lot more than you were prepared for.”

Lan Zhan’s eyes are rimmed red and it’s possible he was crying at some point, too. He smiles. It’s small but real in a way few smiles are. It makes Wei Ying’s heart jump into his throat. 

“Thank you for telling me about your family, Wei Ying,” says Lan Zhan with an honesty that matches his smile. 

Wei Ying sniffs and rubs his hands against his snow pants. He shakes his head to shake away the ghosts. "You should really come out to one of our sessions some time," he says, gesturing toward the laptop. "You would look great on film."

Lan Zhan doesn't roll his eyes. Instead he looks pointedly toward the black screen where Wei Ying was just editing videos of him falling on his ass.

Another laugh jolts its way out of Wei Ying's lungs. This one isn't sad at all. And Lan Zhan is smiling again.