#second favourite weather is snowstorm

[very-uncorrect]

I just heard a massive crash of thunder and literally starting JUMPING up and down in excitement and then ran over to my window to watch the rain and wait for more thunder and lightning

Maybe I am cute

[avirael]

Vargsången

It had been around a week since they had found refuge at Camp Dragonhead, when Rael woke especially early one morning. They usually got out of bed early enough to watch the sun rise with no problem whatsoever but this particular morning they rose with an uneasy feeling.

Before they left their room Rael glimpsed out of the window, where big white snowflakes were wildly dancing in front of a dark cloudy sky. It would be difficult to get A‘viloh out of bed today, Rael thought as they put on their boots which they had placed next to the door the evening before. It was then that they noticed the carefully folded piece of paper someone had pushed through the small gap between the door and the dark wooden floorboards.

With a confused expression on their face they picked it up and unfolded it to see a small and very familiar handwriting. Instantly that uneasy feeling flared up again. Quickly Rael read the short letter and found their worst fears confirmed.

Dear Rael,

I am sorry to leave you like this but I know that you would have tried to stop me. I am aware that this plan is madness but I simply cannot go on with this uncertainty any longer. I am returning to Ul’dah to find out what happened to our friends. I know it is dangerous but I ran and hid from the consequences of my actions for long enough to know that I will not find peace this way. Don’t come looking for me and please keep Tataru and Alphinaud safe.

Forgive me. If you can.

Your friend,

A’viloh

„This idiot!“, Rael growled as they threw another glimpse out of the window and then hurriedly left their room. Without knocking they tore open the the door across the corridor but found A’viloh’s room empty. As fast as they could they ran down the stairs, ignoring the greetings of the few people who were also up early and threw open the door leading to the yard. The blizzard they had already seen from the window felt a lot stronger and colder up close and to Rael’s frustration not a single footstep was to be seen in front of the house. No traces where he would have gone. The evidence long destroyed by the storm. How long was he already out there? And what had he been thinking at all to go out alone in a weather like this??

Whispering another string of profanities Rael stepped outside and ran across the yard. With one strong push they threw open the heavy double doors that led to the commander’s office. They hadn’t even reached the desk on the opposite side of the room yet when they urgently addressed the Elezen sitting behind it. „Lord Haurchefant!“

Surprised the man looked up from the paperwork’s on his desk and smiled at Rael.

„Please, I told you to drop the formalities. How may I help you.“

„We have a problem!“, Rael continued and the worried tone in their voice was enough to make Haurchefant’s smile turn into a more serious expression. „What happened?“

„A’viloh!“, Rael exclaimed in frustration as if that one word was explanation enough and waved around the piece of paper they still clasped tightly in their hand. „He ran away! To find our friends it seems, but all he’s gonna accomplish is get himself killed. I don’t need to be from around here to know that someone without experience is going to freeze to death all alone in that storm out there! And even if he miraculously makes it to Ul’dah, Ilberd and the other traitors will without doubt be waiting for him and he doesn’t stand a chance against all of them alone.“

„Breathe, my friend.“, the Elezen said and gestured for Rael to calm down. For a moment he looked out of the window in thought and nodded. „Unfortunately you are right. With this weather it is very dangerous out there…“

That information didn’t do much to calm Rael down. „How can we find him in that blizzard? I don’t know when he left or how far he got. I fear he—„

„Say no more.“, Haurchefant interrupted them. Without further hesitation he stood up and walked toward the door, grabbing a thick woollen coat from a coat rack beside the door. „I will find A’viloh and bring him back. You stay here where you are safe. No! No argument, please. I’ll be faster without you.“

Nonetheless Rael followed him out to the yard where he shouted for one of the guards to immediately bring his chocobo.

Rael tried to convince him that they would cover more ground if they both went searching for A‘viloh but Haurchefant pointed out that Rael would most likely get lost too and that he didn’t like to have to search for them both out in this storm. Reluctantly Rael promised to wait for him at Camp Dragonhead and watched him check his gear, get on his chocobo and vanish into the storm with worry written all over their face.

***

The snowflakes and the ice-cold wind felt like sharp little blades on his face. He cursed this storm for not the first time today and he also cursed himself as well.

What had he been thinking?

Not much honestly.

There hadn’t been a storm when he had sneaked out long before anybody else was awake. The whole night he hadn’t slept, once again thinking and wondering. Back then this part of his plan had seemed to him the easy part. He had more wondered about how he would cross Gridanian territory and make it into Ul’dah unrecognised than what else could happen on his way there when at first only a few big snowflakes had begun to slowly fall from the sky. In his determination he had barely taken notice of them, only when the clouds got darker and darker, the snow more and more and finally the wind picked up, howling and biting, he had realised that he hadn’t planned for something like this to happen. He had already walked quite a bit of distance and the Observatorium couldn’t be that far anymore. Maybe he could hide there until the storm died down. So he continued onwards. But with every minute passing he saw less and less of where he was going and soon he realised that he had no clue anymore where he was at all or in which direction he needed to walk. And with every passing moment it only seemed to get colder.

So now there he was, blindly stumbling through the snow, hoping that a settlement, a house, a fire, anything would show up before his eyes. But instead he couldn’t even tell anymore where the white ground beneath his feet ended and where the sky with it’s veil of wind and snow begun. He had no idea what to do.

For a moment he contemplated to scream for help, but who would hear him out here with this howling wind? He tried anyway and found that he barely made a sound, his voice only a distant whispering even to his own ears. Oh, I’m going to die here, he thought, no one will ever find me. That thought made him shiver even more violently than he already did and hot burning tears started to gather in the corners of his eyes. They were long frozen on his cheeks before they could reach his chin.

Nonetheless he took off his gloves, tried to wipe the weird sensation away but his face and hands only felt cold and numb. Instead he lowered his fingers to his lips, tried to warm them with his breath but even breathing felt more and more painful and exhausting by now, let alone putting one feet in front of the other.

Finally he tripped. There hadn’t even been a stone or a branch, just his frozen clumsy feet that felt so heavy. Without much of a sound he fell into the deep cold snow. Absently he tried to blink the snow out of his eyes, not that he would have seen much anyway. At first he weakly tried to push himself back up but his whole body felt so horribly heavy and tired. Oh yes, he was tired, so very tired. Maybe he just needed to rest for a moment. It all didn’t really seem that bad anymore now that he lay here in the soft white snow. It felt strangely warm really. For a moment he even thought he heard a voice calling out his name. Saw a silhouette between the dancing snowflakes. A hand stretched out towards him.

With a peaceful smile on his face his eyelids drooped and his mind faded to darkness.

***

How long was he gone now?, Rael wondered as they paced about the room, around the big table with all the maps, back and forth between the roaring fireplace and the window facing south.

For the third time now they pulled up their collar and stepped out into the empty frozen courtyard. Everyone at Camp Dragonhead who wasn’t on guard duty had been clever enough to seek shelter from the storm indoors and as Rael worriedly looked towards the gate, it‘s silhouette barely visible against the myriad of snowflakes, they wondered if Haurchefant’s decision to leave in search for A’viloh on his own had been a good one. Maybe something had happened to him.

Should they follow him?

No, they would get lost without a doubt…

Should they alarm the whole camp about their commander’s absence?

But what should the soldiers do about this?

Helplessly Rael raised their face to the sky but all there was were dark storm clouds and more questions they couldn’t answer. There was nothing to guide them, to tell them what to do. No gods, no teacher, no whispers, no vision. Nothing at all. Rael, who always knew what to do or at least had an educated guess about what might prove helpful, never felt that useless before.

Almost violently they pressed their eyes shut and tried to summon up the answers they needed by sheer force of will. A lonely figure at which the wind tore mercilessly. Determined but also futile. Forcing any sign to reveal itself to them had never worked before and neither did it now. There simply was nothing they could do.

Why haven’t I seen this coming?

Eyes still closed they started to shiver, fighting against the burning sensation building behind their eyelids. Their mouth twitched no matter how tightly they pressed their lips shut. Instead they breathed through their nose, heavy shaky breaths which turned to white clouds in the air.

Then a horn blared above. Rael flinched and realised that a guard on the fortification wall had given a signal. They didn’t know what it meant and still Rael fixed their eyes on the barely visible gateway, hoping, praying to whatever was willing to listen. Please, let them be safe.

At first Rael feared they were imagining it but then clearly something moved between the sea of snowflakes. A dark form, something - no, someone was coming closer. Rael almost stopped breathing. Once they realised it was truly Haurchefant on his chocobo, they almost fell to their knees in relief.

Only as Haurchefant carefully climbed off of his chocobo, Rael saw that he wasn’t wearing his coat anymore. Instead he had held it in place bundled up on the saddle in front of him, to make sure it didn’t fall down and also keeping it close to himself for warmth. As he lifted that small bundle into his arms and slowly stepped towards them Rael couldn’t stifle a sob any longer and desperately ran towards him.

A’vi!

Wrapped in the way too large piece of clothing was the small Miqo’te, entirely motionless. His skin so pale and cold. Frantically Rael searched for a sign of life - a sound, a movement, a pulse - but there was none. He looked like a dead thing and that fact smashed Rael’s heart to a million little pieces.

It had been too late. They had lost him.

***

Darkness. Endless and suffocating.

A moment ago he thought there had been light.

There had been snow too.

No…

Dark angry water. Hissing like the wind.

A thunderstorm. Or a blizzard.

But there had been sun too, right? Once. Warm pleasant sunlight. Hot bright sand.

Yes, it had been warm. But why was he feeling so cold then?

Why had the sun left him all alone in this cold, cold darkness?

Suddenly he heard a voice calling his name.

It sounded so far away and then suddenly so close. So worried.

He couldn’t quite remember if he knew it but it felt friendly. It felt warm and welcoming.

It felt safe. He could rest now.

***

When Haurchefant had arrived back at Camp Dragonhead cradling poor A‘viloh in his arms, the Miqo’te had no noticeable breathing or pulse at all. He had looked like a corpse and Rael had already feared he was dead. Nonetheless Haurchefant had hurriedly brought him indoors. Loudly he had yelled orders left and right and suddenly the whole camp was in turmoil. In fact it was still early morning and it only had been this sudden unexpected ruckus that had awoken Tataru and Alphinaud as footsteps and loud voices rushed past their bedrooms. They watched puzzled as the servants quickly brought lots of blankets as well as warm dry clothes to replace A’viloh’s frozen ones and also wood for the fireplace and warming pans for his bed.

Immediately Rael had begun to work. For a few terrifying moments they had sat there in silent focus trying to find a sign of life from A‘viloh. Heartbeat, breathing, aether. Nothing… nothing… nothing… then: a shy heartbeat after all. So slow, so weak, easy to miss. But it was still there and Rael refused to let it vanish! They never had to heal a patient with hypothermia before and only could guess what to do exactly. It wasn’t a open wound they could close or a poison they could extract. Instead all they could do was use their magic to steady his heartbeat and help slowly warm his body up.

Both, Tataru and Alphinaud, stood there by the door speechlessly staring in shock, not knowing or understanding what had happened. They saw Rael’s face and didn’t dare to ask either. Not until Haurchefant reappeared. The servants had urged him to change into dry, warmer clothes too and now he returned pressing warm drinks into the helpless spectators hands and shooing them off, back to their rooms, against quiet protest.

“Please, the healer will arrive any moment now. There is nothing you can do in the meantime. I promise I have you informed at once if anything changes.“

Bleakly Rael noticed that his choice of words didn’t specify if this would be a change for better or for worse. A few moments later the healer, torn from his sleep on Haurchefant’s demand, arrived but he also left rather quickly again.

Rael had only let this ishgardian doctor close to A’viloh because they had hoped that maybe he knew better how to help him than they did considering he needed to have more experience with cases like this. But the Elezen hadn’t done much at all and only claimed that the poor Miqo’te’s life now lay in Halone’s hands. Rael had sharply laughed at this statement but it had really sounded more like a menacing bark. Why did this sharlatan bother to come here at all? Once again they had to do everything by themself if they wanted it done properly.

Just to make sure, they tried every kind of healing magic they could think of hoping that maybe some of it would help, even the ancient spells his mother and the oracle had taught them. When no immediate response was visible - had they really expected one? - they kept on monitoring A’viloh’s heartbeat as well as his still very thin aether and supported both as good as they could using their own.

For hours they sat there silently working their magic, carefully trying to ration their own power reserves as long as possible. They were almost exhausted, almost out of aether themself. Their fingers were shaking and their eyelids felt heavy. It wasn’t healthy and they knew they couldn’t do this much longer.

But at least it seemed to work. For a short happy moment they thought everything would be fine again.

Then the fever hit.

***

The darkness scared him.

It was cold and wet and inescapable.

The wind turned to howls of wild animals and these again soon to laughs and mockery.

Their hungry fangs and claws reached for him in the darkness. Trying to pull him down.

He tried to run but he wasn’t moving at all.

He tried to shake off the claws digging into his skin but their grip was too strong.

He tried to scream but couldn’t make a sound.

Then with a sudden jolt he was falling. A long horrible fall through infinite darkness.

When he finally hit the ground he was in the cold, freezing snow again.

Just that it didn’t feel cold at all anymore. But soft and warm.

There was that voice again, calling his name.

An unfamiliar voice.

No, that wasn’t true. He knew this voice.

It was the only voice he ever wanted to remember.

If he ever realised he forgot this sound, the pain would destroy him.

Between the veil of snow there was a hand reaching out for him. A worried face.

Arms holding him tight. Keeping him warm.

So familiar eyes of molten gold.

A loving smile.

His favourite thing in the world.

Oh! Now he remembered!

He understood. At last, no miracle to save him.

Finally…

…

Laqa.

***

„Laqa…“

Shocked Rael looked up from the hand they carefully held between their own.

Haurchefant couldn’t know the meaning of this feverish mumbling but Rael did and it terrified them, the panic plainly visible on their face.

„The healer warned us that the fever might make him hallucinate...“ the elezen offered in an attempt to console them.

„I know that!“, Rael snapped harshly.

It wasn’t fair but they had no nerve to hear things that were plainly visible. After the fever had appeared Haurchefant had called for the ishgardian doctor again. At least this time he had offered a potion that was supposed to lower A’viloh’s fever. So far it hadn’t shown any effect though. But that wasn’t Haurchefant’s fault.

„I am sorry, I didn’t mean to yell at you…“

The Elezen shook his head. „I know, my friend. You’re tired. Don’t you think it would be better to rest for a while?“

„No, I’m fine. I will stay.“ It did sound hollow even to them.

„You know, you did everything you could, right?“, Haurchefant asked while putting a hand on Rael’s shoulder and Rael hated how it almost sounded like they had lost this fight already.

„I know… Would you mind leaving me alone for a while?“ Hopefully that hadn’t sounded rude again.

He hesitated, then he nodded slowly. „No more magic though, alright? I don’t want you to collapse too.“

Rael just shrugged. It wasn’t the answer Haurchefant had wanted but he left anyway. With a heavy sigh they returned their gaze to A’viloh’s pale face as he mumbled something unintelligible.

Oh, why hadn’t they noticed he was planning something? Where had they gone wrong?

Probably when A’viloh’s smile had fooled them into thinking that he was alright. As if a few nice words and some hot chocolate could fix everything that was wrong. Rael had wanted to believe it but should have known better. No matter how much they had told themself that he was stronger now, braver, healthier… mostly he seemed fine and then suddenly tiny things could still throw him off course. It was a tricky thing for Rael to assess how A‘viloh would react sometimes. Like a broken mug that had been kitted. There were bits and pieces that were still alright or had healed fairly good, the damage almost invisible, and then there were the spots were all that kept the ragged shards together was too much glue, unevenly filling the wounds. Ugly and weak, easily broken apart again. On his really bad days Rael still feared that there were some small pieces of him irrevocably lost, never to be found again, sunken to the bottom of the sea and impossible to replace.

Barely audible, like a knife to Rael’s heart, the poor fever-dreaming Miqo’te whispered, „I‘ve missed you so much, Laqa.“

„No!“, Rael yelled almost angrily and threw themself at A’viloh’s chest protectively. „You can’t have him yet!“

It was ridiculous! Who were they even talking to? Instead they turned their pleading gaze to the Miqo’te’s feverish face.

„Please, A‘vi! Tell him that he has to wait a little longer… please… he would want you to live your life first, wouldn’t he?“

Of course A'viloh didn’t answer.

Desperately Rael buried their face in the Miqo’te’s shirt and started to sob. „Please don’t die. I cannot do this without you…“

***

The sea washed around his feet, then retreated again with a slight pull.

He couldn’t care less.

Everything he cared about was right here with him.

Arms as warm and comforting as the late afternoon sunlight wrapped tightly around him.

With his eyes closed, his head rested between Laqa’s shoulder and neck, he felt safe and at peace. He felt at home.

When had he last felt that way?

It didn’t matter anymore.

He would never have to let go of him again.

Vi…

this so familiar voice whispered as he pressed a kiss into his hair.

Slowly Laqa loosened his embrace and instead cupped A’viloh’s face gently with both of his hands.

It is time, Vi…

For a moment they just looked at each other, smiling, before their lips met halfway for a long kiss.

Finally Laqa pulled back a little and immediately A’viloh missed him again.

This hadn’t been enough. It would never be.

With a smile on his face Laqa rested his forehead against A’viloh’s.

You have to go now.

***

For days A‘viloh wandered between sleep and death, two things that sometimes looked horribly similar like only siblings could.

The fever had ebbed away and risen again but never completely left him alone.

Neither had Rael.

Day and night they had remained by A’viloh’s bedside, refusing to leave unless it was really necessary.

Alphinaud had brought food and water for them both and sometimes even Tataru had joined them for breakfast or for dinner. Every now and then Lord Haurchefant had brought tea as well. All of them had tried to cheer Rael up and also tried to convince them to get some rest. Both very unsuccessfully. Although they appreciated the effort.

When they were alone Rael talked to A’viloh. They felt a little crazy for this because they didn’t know if A‘vi was hearing any of this at all but still… they sat down on the bed beside him, held his hand in theirs and told him everything they had ever wanted to tell him.

How much they admired him for the person he was, despite everything. How much they had enjoyed traveling with him and also how much of the world they still hoped to show him. All the places Rael had visited on their journey and thought A‘vi would love. They told him how much they wished they could show him Golmore. They sang him the lullabies their mother used to sing for them and told him everything about their home and also about themself. About all the qualities they lacked and he possessed. About his kindness and how he so easily won over the hearts of everyone he met. About how Rael finally understood what it felt like to be as terrified as him. The fear and the guilt. How sorry they were for not seeing that he hadn’t been okay.

The thought that maybe against all of their efforts A'viloh simply didnt want to wake up again almost made them cry once more. In the end Rael lay there beside him with their head rested on A‘viloh’s chest. His heartbeat the only solace for their sorrow, a lullaby for their troubled mind, their tired eyelids almost closed.

„Wake up, A‘vi… Please. Just say something…“, they whispered a final plea.

Apart from the crackle of the fireplace and the wind rattling at the window the room was silent.

Almost asleep suddenly a quiet raspy sound startled them.

„…Rael?“

In surprise the viera shot up and indeed saw tired green eyes slowly squinting at them.

„What are you doing here?“, A‘viloh‘s voice asked hoarsely.

„A‘vi!“, Rael exclaimed in disbelieve and realised how stupid this must look. Hurriedly they jumped up, pretending to get him some water to hide how embarrassed they were. „How are you feeling? Does anything hurt? Here! You should drink something! I‘ll go and ask for some soup too, you really need to -“

A’viloh chuckled and made them stop. Confused Rael turned around and looked at him cheekily grinning.

„What?“, they blurted out awkwardly.

The Miqo'te shook his head. „Nothing… Soup would be great, I think I am starving… and also thank you for worrying about me.“

„You are such an idiot, you know that?“, Rael asked while crossing their arms in front of their chest and staring at him in the best imitation of anger they could pull off.

A’viloh just laughed. This time Rael was wary to trust it.

Oh, they would give him quite a lecture! It was a good thing he couldn’t run off in his condition. But first they would get some food.

[goldenempyrean]

Empyrean's Advent 2023

FEATURING: @lots-of-pockets

That's right bitches. Empyrean's advent is back for it's second year! And this time everything is (almost) ALREADY written! Now, this is very exciting because this year I've got a very special guest joining me in writing this year so let's show her a whole lotta love too :D Check out what's coming up down below!

Day 1 – “I thought you were ‘just fine’?” - Sick Nat x R  

Day 2 - Soup Delivery Service.” - Sick Scarlett x R 

Day 3 - “Oh no, not you too!” - WandaNat 

Day 4 - “We could’ve cancelled, I would’ve understood!” - Supercorp 

Day 5 – "I may not have magical healing powers, but I've got plenty of love to share.” - Kara x R 

Day 6 - Mistletoe Misfortune - Sanvers 

Day 7 - “Jeez, if that’s your bedside manner, I’d rather take my chances on my own.”  Sick - Nat x R 

Day 8 - Reading Together - WandaNat 

Day 9 - "You're my favourite patient” - Supercorp, Sick Lena 

Day 10 - “Honey, you’re supposed to be in bed.” - Lizzie x R 

Day 11 - “Not to say I told you so...but-” - Alex Danvers x R 

Day 12 - “Carry me?” - Sick Yelena x R 

Day 13 – Snowstorm - Florence x R 

Day 14 - “And just where do you think you’re going?” - Natasha x R 

Day 15 – Fairy Lights - WandaNat 

Day 16 - "Dont leave me." - Natasha x R

Day 17 - "Did you just drink from my glass?" - Natasha x R

Day 18 – Making Up - Lena Luthor x R 

Day 19 “Have you been like this all day?”  - Sanvers 

Day 20 – Sweater Weather  - Kate x R 

Day 21 - “Are you sure you're up to it?” - Wanda x R 

Day 22 - Driving Home For Christmas - Supercorp Sick Kara 

Day 23 - “Can you budge up, I wanna lay with you.”   - Scarlett x Sick R 

Day 24 – Christmas Eve - Alex x R 

Day 25 – Christmas Dinner Gone Wrong - Natasha x R 

[far-side-skies]

Crystal Headcanons - Fan-Crystals

So over time I've come up with a big collection of fan/headcanon crystals for Storm Hawks. It's such a fascinating concept to me that I feel didn't get explored often enough in the show, despite them making up the entirety of the world's established magic system and being crucial to other parts of life such as travel and combat. I love making up new crystals to fill the world with so here's all the ones I have so far. I may have missed some, but this is most if not all of the crystals I've made up for stuff like plot, macguffins or just because I saw a random game mechanic I liked and thought "can I make up a crystal that does that?"

Some of these were made in collaboration with @ashe-alter. The raystones, hex crystal and channelling stone are the main three, but they've helped me figure out bits and pieces of other ones in this list. Go check out Grimm's stuff, they just made an ask blog for their awesome oc Austry too.

Borealis crystals: The colour of the Aurora. Popular in ski and snow resorts across Atmos, Borealis crystals are capable of changing the weather to snowfall. High-grade ones in the hands of powerful mages can even be used to summon vicious snowstorms. Must be handled with care, as an unstable, leaking Borealis crystal can cause Borealis poisoning, a chronic condition that shortens your lifespan.

Magnesis crystals: Silvery crystals with a metallic sheen. These are crystals that produce their own powerful magnetic field. Frequently used in heavy lifting equipment.

Leechlights: Black-purple in colour. Rare. Adjacent to leech crystals, leechlights are able to absorb light in order to create pockets of darkness. They are a favourite of Cyclonia's Nightcrawlers, awarded to their highest ranking officers.

Orbital stones: White, shard-like crystals. Splintered bones of death itself. Capable of severing the soul from the body. Handle with extreme caution, deadly to undead beings and dangerous for individuals with a silver allergy. Do Not channel into a Crescendo.

Memory stones: Yellow. Used to store memories for safekeeping. Legends tell of an ancient demigod who first created these crystals to record history.

Adreno crystals: Another crystal with origins in myth. On the surface they seem like standard purple energy crystals, until you realise how uneasy they make you feel. Their true power is that they cause an increase in adrenaline and stress-related hormones, triggering one's fight or flight response and heightening anxiety.

Rally stones: Myth origin. Comes in red or green. Red triggers passion, green triggers fury. Has disturbing uses in brainwashing rituals.

Raystones: Gold like the sun. Uncommon. Adjacent to sol crystals, they turn sunlight into concentrated blades and are better suited for weaponry.

Echo crystals: Light blue. Used to record audio and play it back, a common component of record discs and tape players.

Saltpetre crystals: Often colourless. Explosive crystals used for fireworks. A vital component to most firearms.

Glowstone: Can come in many colours. A Minecraft reference. Popular among crystal smiths for weapons development, glowstones aren't particularly bright and absolutely useless in combat. They do, however, leave a trail of light wherever they go that lingers like a long-exposure photograph. This makes them useful for navigating caves without having to scratch marks into the walls, and smiths use them to check the energy-conductive tracks in crystal powered weapons.

Bifrost crystals: Range from purple to blue-green. Incredibly rare but usually found among deposits of borealis crystals. At a glance, they're not anything special, but when struck by a bifrost powered weapon, the target is swathed in a shroud of shimmering light. A second strike causes said light to detonate around the target. If this sounds familiar, it's because I took this from a God of War Ragnarok mechanic.

Avia crystals: Green. A unique legendary set of crystals belonging to the Amazonian royal family. With these crystals, users can take the form of a bird, and if used in tandem with the rest of the set, they can turn other people into birds too.

Thunder opals: Opalescent stones that can create loud cracks of thunder and a wave of force when activated. High grade thunder opals are indicated by their white colouration. Lower grade ones with less force are popular with sound effects artists for use in movies, songs and radio productions. Black ones are silent but still produce a deadly shockwave when used.

Deadwood crystals: Dusty brown in colour. Frequently making up the cores of arid Terras, deadwood crystals create dry winds that can escalate into dust storms and twisters if used in the right environments.

Channelling stones: (aka Godtrapper crystals) There are many debates as to whether or not these crystals actually exist. They can be used to steal the power of divine beings for mortals to use for themselves.

Hex crystals: One of the only crystals with a 'liquid' form, hex crystals produce a purple substance known as Hexane that can be used to store oxygen, carbon dioxide and other chemicals. In the right conditions, creatures submerged in this liquid can be kept alive in a sort of "stasis" indefinitely

[cambria-writes]

happy holidays! this is arguably a little late but i’ve had a rough go of it these past few days so i only just finished this tonight lol. Ii insist that i’m not late because we’re still in 2022 and the new year hasn’t hit yet!

anyways this is just a relatively short fluffy feel-good thing because i wanted to feel warm and fuzzy. so it’s absolutely self-indulgent.

word count: 3,229 warnings: swearing, it’s christmas eve and that’s important so that should probably be a warning, no y/n, no mention of gender but ravenloft reader is AFAB, minor ravenloft spoilers if you squint

for reference, this scene (with a bonus crown) is what the reader would’ve drawn.

and for the record, since it was mentioned on ao3, i'm very well aware it shouldn't have been a perception check! ravenloft!reader was never written with the intention of making them a tabletop rpg wiz, they just know enough to get by and follow along if they're sitting in on a game.

𝕽𝖔𝖑𝖑 𝖋𝖔𝖗 𝕻𝖊𝖗𝖈𝖊𝖕𝖙𝖎𝖔𝖓

When the phone rang, you didn’t even greet the speaker. You immediately answered with ‘what do you want you fucking menace’ because there’s really only one person who’d call you near midnight like a heathen. 

“What’s your favourite colour?”

You snort and wedge the phone between your chin and shoulder and sit back down at your dining table to keep sketching. 

“Dunno. Like, all of them?”

“Dude that’s the epitome of unhelpful,” Eddie deadpans, and you can’t help but laugh. 

“Right, well like, is there any context to this? Cause you should know I don’t have a favourite colour,” you reply, frowning and erasing a small portion before swiping the eraser shredding away. 

“Come on,” Eddie whines, and you can practically see him throwing his head back in annoyance. “Not even one? Like, something that just always makes you happy when you see it?”

You hum for a second and put your pencil down. “I guess maybe black? I—“

“Nah, nuh uh. Boring as hell.”

“Rude, what—“

“Black’s not even a colour, that’s what you constantly say!”

You scoff and pick your pencil back up, switching the phone to the other shoulder. 

“Did you seriously just call me in the middle of the night to bitch at me for not having a preferred perceptible wavelength of light?”

There’s an unusually long silence on the other end of the line. You frown again and pull the handset away and follow the coiled line. Confused but satisfied that it hadn’t somehow gotten unplugged from the cradle on the wall, you wedge it back where it was. 

“Ed? You good?”

“Yeah, no. Yeah, sorry, just thinking.”

“Jesus, don’t burn yourself out there bud.”

“Oh fuck off.”

The rest of the phone call is relatively short, and colours aren’t mentioned again by the time you hang up. You don’t go to bed until nearly two in the morning, and by then you’re content with having gotten down the main lines of your portrait. 

The snowstorm that rolled in on the 23rd was entirely unexpected but wholly welcomed. You were scheduled to work on the 24th, but with the state of the roads and the fact that nearly half of Hawkins was running off of generators, you were graciously allowed to stay home until the new year. And given that this is your first Christmas in your new home, you were more than happy to hunker down and, ha, weather it out. 

You’d had plans, sure; Harrington had already made sure everyone knew to show up at his place on the 24th, your parents had been expecting you on Christmas morning and the rest of the day would have been spent going around to see extended family. And though the thought of not being able to fulfill your annual Christmas traditions did dampen your mood, just thinking about the astronomical amount of energy you’d save made it a bit more palatable.��

If the same thing were to happen next year, though, you might cry. 

You’d already called Steve to let him know you were staying home. Pleasantly surprised, he’d admitted he’d had a whole speech prepared about how he’s have The Swarm tear you a new one if you even dared thinking about touching your car keys. (Which would have been an effective threat, honestly. You really had no interest in giving Dustin a reason to get uppity at you, and you definitely didn’t want to have to deal with Max’s ire. Girl held grudges like you did trauma.)

Your parents were only slightly less understanding, with your mother trying to insist that your father could come pick you up. A little resistance put that all to rest, though, and with a promise to call on Christmas morning, that was dealt with as well. 

You’d just settled down on your couch, swaddled in the fluffy blanket you’d gotten from Eddie the year before, mug of hot chocolate held in both hands for warmth, when the doorbell rang. Confused, you look at the time—just after dinner on Christmas Eve—and sigh before heaving yourself off the couch to buzzer by the door. You hesitate for a second before pressing the button to let the mysterious visitor in. You’re already on your way back to your couch, having assumed it was just a neighbour who’d locked themselves out again, when you hear heavy footsteps outside your door. 

You quietly walk back up and carefully lean forward to look through the peephole. 

“What the…” you mutter, leaning back, nearly jumping out of your skin when the knocking finally comes. You quickly unlatch the chain and unlock the deadbolt before pulling the door open. “Ed, what the fuck—“

“Merry Christmas,” Eddie blurts out, thrusting a box out at you, though it really sounded more like ‘murr cr’sms’. 

“Merry Christmas to you too but Jesus come inside!” You pull Eddie through the door by his arm, quickly shutting the door behind you and getting started patting the snow off of him. “The hell did you do, walk here? You look like a damn yeti!”

“Y-yeah I kind-kind of d-did.”

You pause in your patting before grabbing Eddie’s arm again and turning him around to face you. You ‘reabout to ask if he was serious, but a quick glance at his face—reddened cheeks and nose, frosted lashes, dry lips—tells you he has, in fact, told you the truth. 

“Fuck me, okay,” you whisper, before shaking your head and getting a move on. “Stay there and take your boots and coat off and then get your ass on that couch, I’m making you coffee.”

You don’t hear any complaints. And though normally you would’ve been glad for the silence, even perhaps proud to have shut him up, Eddie’s silence is, once again, unsettling. And this time you’re pretty sure it’s not because he’s thinking, and most likely because he’s borderline hypothermic.

You try to be quick; you grab that one pair of sweatpants Eddie leant you when you got splashed by a car outside of the arcade. That one metallica shirt you borrowed one time when one Friday movie night turned into an impromptu sleepover. You make your way back to the living room, where thankfully Eddie’s listened to you, and has made himself at home swaddled in the blanket you’d left on the couch. You throw a quick glance to the front door, where his jacket and boots are slowly leaving a growing puddle of snow water.

You definitely need to get a welcome mat or something if this is going to keep happening. 

Your first instinct is to chuck the clothes at Eddie’s head. What you would usually do. But it’s Christmas eve, there’s a god damn storm outside and this maniac walked to your place. For some reason. You feel like you owe him to be nicer than you usually would be. Call it the ghost of Christmas conscience. 

“Here,” you say quietly, holding out the sloppily folded shirt and sweats. “You can change in here. I’ll be in the kitchen.” 

Eddie mutters a very stuttery thanks and takes the clothes from you. You pause for a second to see what’s on the TV—seems like A Christmas Story is about halfway through—before hastily turning away when you see Ed starting to lift his shirt over his head.

Coffee, right. You said you’d make coffee.

You’re being so normal about this, it’s absolutely fine. You’re totally fine. 

By the time you return to the couch in the living room, Eddie’s clothes are exceptionally neatly folded on your coffee table and he’s even more huddled up in your blanket than he had been before. You place his mug of coffee in his waiting hands and have to bite back shocked laughter when, even outstretched, underneath the blanket, he looks like a frozen T-rex.

“Alright,” you huff out when you finally take your seat on the other end of the couch. “You wanna tell me what’s in that box that was so important that you felt you had to walk here in a storm?”

Eddie sputters in his coffee a bit. When he brings the mug back down, he does look a little sheepish.

“Yeah, y’know it sounds pretty stupid when you say it like that.”

You nod and take a sip of your own coffee. “M’hm. That’s cause risking hypothermia to deliver a gift that very well could’ve waited until the storm passed is pretty stupid. No offense.”

Despite your disclaimer and your attempt to sound light about it, Eddie lapses into silence, again. 

“Okay, you keep going quiet, is there something—“

“I didn’t want you to be alone.”

You stop yourself, mouth agape. You bring your coffee mug back up to your lips to try and shake off the surprise.

“I—okay. What, uh, what about Wayne?”

Eddie gestures vaguely under the blanket, and you assume he’s waving the issue of. “He’s with the Hendersons.”

“Oh. That’s…”

“Dustin asked me to go. I said no.”

You frown. “In favour of walking though the snow to get to me?”

“Yeah, well,” Eddie starts, but he doesn’t continue until he takes another long sip from the coffee mug. “Walking wasn’t the plan. Van broke down halfway here.”

“Oh thank god,” you sigh, leaning back into the arm of the couch and pulling your legs up and under you. “I literally thought you walked from your place!” 

“God, never,” Eddie laughs, pulling his own feet up on the couch to sit cross-legged. “But I was halfway here and there’s no power at the trailer, so.”

You hum and nod, but otherwise keep your silence. And you both stay like that for a few minutes. And while you’re taking the time to try and bring your BPM down to something a nurse might not scream about, Eddie seems to be appreciating the warmth that you’ve thrown at him.

“So,” you say after a while, clearing your throat and putting your mostly empty mug on the coffee table. “What’s in the box?” 

Eddie grins and puts his own mug down. The blanket falls away from his shoulders when he reaches toward to grab said box, and he turns it around in his hands before passing it over to you.

“Wait,” you rush to say, just as he opens his mouth. “Shit, wait, I have,” you trail off, and nearly jump over the back of the couch to run to your room. You quickly snatch the gift bag you’d left on your dresser and run back to the living room, nearly tripping over your own feet. You throw yourself back down onto the couch and shove the bag towards Eddie.

“What—“

“Gift for a gift,” you explain shortly, a little out of breath.

Eddie laughs lightly but takes the gift bag from you, and you eagerly snatch the box from his hands. You’re about to start tearing into the tacky Santa-print wrapping paper, but glance up to make sure it’s okay. Eddie chuckles and nods and motions for you to go ahead. 

You make quick work of the paper and nearly tear the top off the box before turning it over in your hand and letting its content drop into your palm.

“Oh my god,” you breathe, turning over the giant cut glass piece in your hand. You hold it up to the do lamplight, and it looks like it’s shimmering from the inside. Every which way you turn it, it’s like each facet is a different colour that reveals itself to you with each new angle. 

You don’t miss the fact that there are nineteen carefully carved and painted numbers on each face, and the last one has a little flame where the 20 normally would have been. 

You look up to thank Eddie, throat a little tight, but you nearly choke on your own tongue when you see his expression. 

He’s holding your gifted frame in his hands like it might break if he holds it too tightly. You can’t really understand the expression on his face, and the more time he spends staring unblinkingly at it, the more unsure you feel. 

“I, uh, is it… do you not like it?” 

Eddie slowly shakes his head before lifting his eyes up to you. He tries to start a few different sentences before clearing his throat. 

“Is this—this is really what you see?”

You let your hands fall into your lap and nervously turn the massive D20 around in them and nod. 

“Yeah, I mean. The crown might be a bit much,” you chuckle lightly, looking up and away towards the TV. “But yeah. You look really, uh. You look happy, when you’re DMing for the kids. Really cool. Thought you should be able to, I dunno. See it for yourself.”

When you do muster the courage to turn to look back to Eddie, he still has that absolutely confusing look on your face. You lift the heavy dice in one hand and wave it around a bit. 

“This is why you asked for my favourite colour, huh?” 

Eddie blinks a bit owlishly at first, but laughs and shakes his head. Slowly, carefully, he puts your gifted portrait on top of his folded clothes. Leans forward to pluck the dice from your hand and gently put it down on the coffee table next to your mug. 

“Ed, what’s wr—“

You inhale the rest of your question when Eddie reaches out a hand to grab and pull at one of your ankles. You screw your eyes shut when your head meets the couch cushion below your with a soft ‘thump’. And when you open your eyes, Eddie’s hovering over you, hands braced on the couch arm just above your head. You swallow thickly and promptly forget to breathe for a second. 

The end credit music for A Christmas Story feels like it’s playing from miles away.

“You good?” Eddie asks, quietly, and all you can do is nod. “You sure?”

“Yeah, uh huh. Fine,” you whisper, holding your hands close to your chest. Close your eyes when he leans in to rest his forehead against yours. “Why did you really come over?” You whisper, hesitantly uncurling a hand to place it on his chest.

“Missed you.”

“You see me almost every day.”

“Worried about you.”

You snort and lightly slap at his chest. “Bullshit. I own more knives than you do guitar picks.” 

Eddie exhales sharply before pulling back a bit. When you open your eyes, you almost want to hide from the tenderness you see in his. 

“Don’t look at me like that,” you whisper, turning your head to the side to watch the TV turns from black to blue, now that the tape’s over. 

“Like what?” Eddie asks, and you can hear the shit-eating grin in his voice when he nuzzles at your neck. 

You grunt. “Like, I don’t know. Like you—like…”

“Like you’re the only person I’d drive and walk through a snow storm to see?” 

You hum but keep your head resolutely turned away. Shiver when you can feel his lips ghosting against your cheek. 

“Like you’re in love with me,” you mutter quietly, screwing your eyes shut. 

Eddie slowly peels a hand away from the arm of the couch to turn your head to look at him. You still avert your eyes. He brushes the hair away from your face instead.

“Come on, don’t be like that,” he says, almost whines, tilting his head to try to catch your eyes. “You’re smarter than me, you’re not that dumb.”

You huff and cross your arms and finally look up at Eddie. There was some kind of combative quip on the tip of your tongue but it dies there as soon as the look on his face properly registers. 

“You’re not fucking around,” you say frowning. 

“I’m not fucking around.” Eddie sighs and moves up to kneel on the couch, both knees boxing in your legs. You move up on your elbows and scoot up a bit to lean your back against the arm of the couch. 

“Since when do you—“ 

“Dude, you literally saved me from a swarm of hell bats, somehow managed to team up with a super powered teenage girl to save the world, still don’t think I’m an absolute coward and show up at my doorstep if I call you when I can’t sleep,” Eddie lists off, starting to wave down at your a bit frantically. “And you actually listen to my shitty garage band music!”

“It’s not shitty!” 

“You’re proving my damn point, woman!” Ed shouts, swatting your hand away when you go to slap his chest again. “Merry fucking Christmas, I’m in love with you!” 

You let yourself slide back down to lie on the couch and laugh when you throw an arm over your face. 

“The fuck, this isn’t funny!” Eddie whines, trying to slap your arms away from your face. “This is serious!”

You choke your laughter down enough to say, “Roll for perception.” 

“Excuse me?” Eddie squawks, indignantly, pausing his assault on your arms. You lower them just enough to be able to peek at him. 

“You heard me, roll for perception.”

Eddie scoffs but turns to grab the massive dichroic dice from the table and gently rolls it along your carpeted floor. 

“Huh. 18. Do I get to add my wisdom modifier to that?” 

Though you bring your arms down from your face, you still cover it with your hands.

“You’re the only name and phone number I keep in my address book,” you start quietly, biting down on your lips before continuing. “That portrait of you isn’t the first one I’ve ever bothered trying to do. The photo of us Max took in the hospital is the only one I have framed. I hate cashews.”

“But you keep a tin of cashews in the cupboard on top of the f… fridge…” 

You nod and part your fingers to catch a glimpse of Eddie. He sighs before shouting and shaking his head. 

“Ed, what the—“

“Why are we so stupid complicated!” He shouts again, but it peters out into laughter. “Jesus, why can’t we just say shit like normal people?” 

“We hate normal people,” you deadpan, slowly letting your hands slide down your face. “So, uh,” you start, curling your fingers under your chin. “Merry, uh, Merry fucking Christmas, I lo—I love you too?”

Eddie closes his eyes and tilts his head back to sigh like you’ve just given him a glass of water after spending weeks in the desert.

You move to half sit up on your elbows again. 

“Hey, you—“

“Does this mean I can kiss you now and you’re not going to think I’m just doing it because it’s the holidays and there was mistletoe over your door?”

You blink for a second and pull yourself up on the arm of the couch and twist around to look at your door. Huh. Sure as shit, there it is.

“Oh. Mrs H must’ve put that up when she came over,” you say nervously, but when you turn around you’re shocked, both because of the still-freezing hand that comes up to your jaw and the lips that are pressed almost chastely against yours. 

“God bless Mrs H,” Eddie whispers, and your laughter is a quick huff before you loop your arms around his neck to pull him down against you for another kiss.

[wheretheresaway-theresawilliam]

Chapter 6: Seeking Warmth in Winter

Word Count: 1387

TWs: Food mentions, ideations of cheating

⛤⛤⛤

Hiring Norman Verne was possibly the second-best thing William had ever done, other than starting a business centred around two of his favourite things, animatronics and entertainment. Over the next few months, William happily promoted him to kitchen staff and found himself most pleased whenever the two were speaking with each other. He got along well with Henry, too, which was, in ways, a plus. He couldn’t count the number of times the two of them had accidentally stayed past closing, talking about whatever came to mind… sometimes just sitting together in the quiet, listening to the radio while William sketched up new advancements for his animatronics.

One morning in January, William could tell the day just wasn’t going to go his way. All three of his children were sick with the flu and Margarete had just gotten over it. Somehow, he had been lucky enough to evade its threatening clutches. On top of this, a record snowstorm had blown through and rendered most of the little town useless, as snow of this amount was completely unheard of on this side of the States. He had closed Fredbear’s the day before due to the weather, and it looked as if it was going to remain that way today. Still, he needed to get inside and run the power at least for a little bit so that things didn’t freeze up.

He wasn’t expecting anyone else to be there, let alone Norman, but his car was there when William pulled up. Confused and a bit concerned, William entered the building.

“Norman???”

He immediately heard a crash in the kitchen and went to investigate.

“William, you scared the bejesus out of me!” Norman scolded, kneeling down to pick up a baking tray he had dropped upon being startled.

“Scared you??” William asked incredulously, “I didn’t think anyone was going to be here in this weather, why are you??”

“My power went out. A house like the one I inherited is nowhere near built to withstand something like this. Back home, sure, but here?? Forget it.”

William shook his head, removing his gloves. “Why didn’t you just come over to my place?”

“Well I didn’t want to barge in! What are you doing here?”

“I was going to turn the power on so that nothing froze up, but I see you’ve already done that for me.”

“In that case, why don’t you take off your coat and stay awhile? I was just about to make cookies.”

“You’re a real arm twister, you know that, Norman?” William teased, unbuttoning his long, black coat. He insisted on working together, even if Norman had planned to bake all alone, as it was another one of his favourite hobbies. He always baked a cake, or whatever their heart desired, on his children’s birthdays, no matter which one it was. Norman had even brought packets of hot cocoa powder, which William took delight in preparing while they worked. It was a nice contrast after being in a house full of snotty, whining children and their less-than-excited-to-deal-with-it mother. Often, as they were baking, their hands would touch, sending electric shocks straight into William’s heart.

Once the cookies were in the oven, he turned on the radio. Half of the stations were still playing Christmas music, even though it was nearly a week ago. William turned the dials until he reached a classical station that tickled his fancy, then playfully extended his hand to Norman.

“Do you know how to dance?”

Norman scoffed, eying him doubtfully. “Not well.”

“Let me teach you, then. It’s easy, and essential for anyone who calls himself a gentleman.”

“But I’m not a…” He trailed off as he saw disappointment creeping into William’s eyes. “Oh, fine, you silly man.”

He took William’s hand, making the man grin. Their proximity drove home just how vastly different in size they were, and it made Norman feel fuzzy in the head as William placed his free hand at his waist.

“Just follow my lead.~”

Every time Norman stumbled over William’s boots, he internally cursed himself. He supposed his embarrassment showed in his face, as William would quietly reassure him every once in a while. By the time he felt he was getting a hang of it, the oven was chiming that the baking was complete.

“You did very well,” William praised, voice low and warm as he put on a pair of oven mitts and retrieved the baking tray from the oven. Norman shook his head.

“If you say so…” He took a sip of his cocoa as William set the tray down.

“I wouldn’t lie to you,” William insisted. “I like you far too much.”

Norman briefly choked, covering it with a cough as he set aside his mug. “I like you, too, William.”

A brief sigh escaped him as he picked up his own mug. They stood quietly apart from each other for a moment, waiting for the cookies to cool down.

“How are you feeling?” William asked.

“Hm??”

“Are you warm enough?”

Norman considered this. “Mostly, yes.”

William inched closer. “Mostly?”

“I run cold.”

“Would this help?” Cautiously, William placed his large hands on Norman’s cheeks. It felt as if he burst into flames right then and there. The flustered expression on Norman’s face made William’s heart pound as if he had just run a marathon, and he was desperate to cling on to the undeniable euphoria flirting with Norman brought him.

“Good lord,” Norman muttered, far from properly functioning. William chuckled.

“How long has it been since you felt a friendly touch, eh?” He let one of his hands fall, tucking a strand of hair behind Norman’s ear with the other.

“I-I don’t understand…” Norman mumbled, fiddling with the hem of his sweater. “Are you…? Do you…??”

“Am I what, darling?~”

Norman shook his head roughly, attempting to clear it. “This is wildly inappropriate.”

William frowned, dropping his other hand and straightening up. “Yes, I suppose you’re right. What was I thinking??”

“But… you’re…?”

“A homosexual? Hm.” He shoved his hands in his pockets. “I’m not sure, frankly. I always have preferred the company of men to the company of women, yet I couldn’t seem to stop making love to women in the past. You?”

Norman blinked, completely taken off guard by William’s casualness. “I’m certainly attracted to men…” He whispered. “Is this a ploy to get me fired, Mr. Afton??”

William’s eyes widened and he quickly grabbed Norman’s hands, attempting to be reassuring. “What?! Nonononono, not at all! Christ, what have I done? No, I’m not going to fire you, how could I? Thoughts of you fill my every waking moment, and when I close my eyes at night, I can only see your face.” His hands began to shake. “Frankly, it’s been driving me a bit mad.”

Norman gasped. “William, you’re married!”

“It’s only a crime if you feel the same way. Even then… the only way Margarete would notice that something was amiss was if I genuinely complimented one of her paintings.”

“But you’ve seemed so happy every time I’ve seen you together!”

“A farce. It’s all about appearances, Norman.”

Norman frowned and pulled his hands away from William’s, beginning to pace. The cookies were long forgotten by now.

“I do think you’re very attractive, William,” he admitted in a sharper tone than he meant. “But this is far more complicated than you seem to think.”

Relief bloomed like a flower in William’s chest, every part of him relaxing within an instant of hearing his feelings affirmed by the man he was swooning over. “Whatever your worries are, my dear, let me burden them. Your secrets are safe with me.”

Norman’s lips trembled. “You don’t understand…”

William made him pause in his tracks, placing his hands on his shoulders. “Do you want me or not? I won’t force this on you if it’s too stressful for you to bear.”

Norman’s hands clamped down on top of his, speaking breathlessly, “Kiss me.”

Beyond eager, William wrapped him in his arms, practically swooping upon him and capturing his lips with his own, his facial hair scratching pleasantly against Norman’s chin. It was everything Norman had desired, his arms wrapped loosely around William’s neck, but anxiety still pulsed deep inside of him. William wasn’t the only man with secrets in this town.

[thisislizheather]

February Feats 2023

Above Photo: Backyard snow, February 2023

Forgive the lateness, it will absolutely happen again. Here’s what went down last month!

The best tweets of February can be found over here. And my favourite Valentine’s Day ones can be found here.

Above Photo: Nathan at rehearsal for The Tonight Show, February 2023

Above Photo: The Tonight Show outfit #2

Okay, so two biggest things: Nathan did his second Tonight Show and his special GOT REVIEWED IN THE NEW YORK TIMES.

Above Photo: Nathan’s NEW YORK TIMES

The French baguette candle from Bath & Body Works? Whoa. I hate how much I love it.

Could not be more in love with this black sweater.

Had dinner at The Bar Room and the grilled chicken on top of their caesar salad was unparalleled. Another thing I love doing when I’m eating in midtown is going to JG Melon afterward for coffee or dessert. It’s the only move.

Speaking of good moves, have you ever sat out on a patio just as the weather’s starting to change and ordered a Peroni? Just one, for the whole afternoon? Might be the answer to everything.

I had a blister on my heel and these Band-Aid Hydro-Seal bandages worked perfectly. 

I got drinks at Nubeluz by Jose Andres at The Ritz-Carlton and it was so lovely. The service is great, the views are wild and the drinks and food were perfect. The only thing that made no sense was the waitress/hostess uniforms, but I’m picky as hell??

Above Photo: View from Nubeluz, NYC

Above Photo: Love when places care about wallpaper, at Nubeluz

I tried two products from Hero since I love their blemish patches - the lightening pads and the brightening stick and both were shit. Returned.

I made these Greek chicken meatballs and they were so bland, so I think I’ll stick with that sweet and spicy recipe I love.

I ate at Golden Unicorn in Chinatown and it was really nothing special. I did love the atmosphere, it was very 90s banquet hall-y. But the food was wildly underwhelming.

Above Photo: Pigs at Golden Unicorn, NYC

Above Photo: Chinatown, NYC

Also ate at Olio E Piu and wow was that bad. It was just insanely loud, had way too many 22 year olds with flashes going off, and the dessert was hard as a rock. Never again. Hate getting burned like this.

Went to The Guggenheim to see the Nick Cave exhibit and yes it was good/fine, but my dumbass thought it was the other Nick Cave. So that’s on me. I guess I’ll just always be disappointed by the exhibits here until they decide to make use of their central space again like they used to do years ago.

Above Photo: The Guggenheim, February 2023

Above Photo: The Guggenheim, February 2023

Some things I watched:

The Player: this started out as one of the coolest movies I’ve seen in such a long time (especially the opening twenty minutes) and then as it went on turned into one of the worst? That rarely happens, so that was confusing.

Pamela, A Love Story: so great. One thing I especially love about her? At the first sign of abuse in any of her relationships, she’s out the door. You don’t hear that a lot and it makes me love her even more. God, it’s still infuriating that Hulu made that series without her permission.

Split: okay, I may be the only person with this opinion (HOW?!). but holy hell did I hate this movie. It should be studied how polarizing  M. Night Shyamalan can be. I have absolutely loved some of his movies and I have wanted to vomit at others. How can this be possible? I don’t understand it.

I had this stupid little reaction video blow up on Instagram, which is wild. Stay out of the comments though, it’s crazy in there.

I was also in Canada for a little bit, so I went skating, ate that perfect caesar at Scaddabush, shoveled driveways and basked in numerous snowstorms.

Above Photo: Parent’s backyard, February 2023

Above Photo: Ice rink, Etobicoke

Above Photo: Caesar salad at Scaddabush, Mississauga

Above Photo: Baby Dog & Dad, February 2023

Above Photo: I took this while laying in the snow and it might be my favourite photo of all time.

Some things I’m looking forward to this month: so many birthday things, it’s almost aggressive.

If you have any interest in reading what went on in January, come on over here.

Above Photo: Winter sunsets, man.

[colourful-void]

Supporting Satoshi - an examination and comparison of JN36 and XY121

Part One: Snowballs do not cure depression but it was worth a shot

You know that episode of Pokemon where a gym leader beats Satoshi in a battle so hard that one of his pokemon gets mildly hurt (though there's no long term effects) and because of it he becomes depressed, closing himself off from his friends before someone comes along to pull him out of that mental state, and also severe weather phenomena is involved and a reflection of a persons mental state? Or rather, the two episodes?

So when I was watching Journeys, I noticed an episode that had a similar-- but distinctly different-- plot to an xy episode I had seen before. And what was particularly interesting was that while I couldn't stand the xy episode, the journeys episode was one of my favourites. I won't drag this out for you guys, I love the journeys episode and re watch it a LOT and the xy episode sort of just leaves me with a sour taste in my mouth. and don't go claiming its solely ship bias, because i saw the xy episode first and disliked it then.

This will analyze both of these episodes, comparing them against each other. Specifically within the context of how Goh and Serena both help Satoshi through a similar situation There will be some discussion of AmourShipping and Satogou in this analysis. I'm going to be a bit negative regarding Serena's actions and the potential "romantic" weight of them here, but I want to be clear that I Do Not dislike Serena as a character. Personally, I wish the writers had given her more room to grow outside of her romantic interests, but I do not hate Serena as a character. I do, however, disagree with her actions in this episode. Please don't take this out of context and dont be ship fighting in the comments, it's boring. This is a comparison of These Two Episodes, not of Goh and Serena and their respective ships as a whole.

This part mainly focuses on the xy episode and the second will focus mainly on the journeys. It's only divided into parts because of the tumblr post limit.

(If you like the xy episode or hate the journeys episode, awesome! having your own opinions is great. these are mine though, so i hope you'll listen to them)

With that out of the way, let's start. And I'm going to use mostly japanese names here because I'm taking screencaps from the subbed japanese copies.

The set up for each of these episodes is eerily similar as pointed out in the gag at the start.

Xy has a bit more set up before the episode in question though, with the initial loss and retreat into the forest by Satoshi taking place the episode before. The episode opens up proper with Satoshi taking time to breathe to himself, alone in the forest.

Emphasis is placed on him taking a deep breath, aided by the visuals showing them (thanks cold air) and the silence of the rest of the soundscape, with the only other sounds being the wind and some bird pokemon, plus some falling snow.

Journeys Satoshi starts off in a better mental state than Xy, with the episode starting off with him jogging along with his pokemon.

However, we can still see that he's been affected by the last battle he lost, against Saitou, as he's putting a lot of effort into training and doing better.

Which, doesn't go well for him, as he loses his next two battles as well, and drops in the World Championship ranking as a result

And he's pretty upset about it too. Same thing as over in xy. In both cases, a respective friend/love interest notes that Satoshi is upset and expresses concern.

He's got support from his friends in both situations! But that support comes across in very different ways.

But, to understand how that support manages to affect Satoshi, we need to understand the problem at play.

Now, I wanna make something clear here. Satoshi's problem is not that he is a sore loser. I'm not arguing that's not a contributing factor, or that he's not upset about the loss (particularly in the world championships), He's still bitter about the lost part, but the root of the problem is not losing, he's been shown to be fine with losing (if not a bit more motivated to win now) in prior episodes.

Satoshi's problem is that his pokemon are getting hurt. Satoshi's problem is that his pokemon are getting hurt, because they're losing battles. Satoshi's problem is that his pokemon are losing battles because he's not training them well enough. And to clarify, that's not my viewpoint, it's his. Satoshi's problem is that he's not good enough for himself, and he feels that that's something he has to fix on his own.

So how do we help him?

Our weather event in question is introduced in separate points in the episodes, but I'll cover them both now.

In xy, it's this snowstorm, which conveniently becomes a problem directly after Serena returns to the Pokemon Centre.

In journeys, it's a sandstorm! That's in near direct contrast to a snowstorm! Incredible.

Heading back to xy Satoshi, things aren't going great in the forest. Luckily, Serena's run off to find him.

I think it's of note here that Serena runs off with the best intentions, she wants to help Satoshi, plain and simple. It just sort of goes wrong along the way.

It's worth noting that Xy Satoshi tries to bring himself out of being sad by the tried and true method of "stop being sad"

Despite telling himself this, he doesn't get anywhere. Which makes sense, because it's not getting the the root of the problem. It's not even addressing it at all. He's just trying to 'be better', which isn't even a battle strategy. However, it is something I can see him saying, so this isn't a critique of Satoshi's thought process, but me pointing out that this isn't really effective. Which is supported by the narrative, because again, he doesn't get anywhere, he doesn't even move.

I can't show it in screencaps but the lights in Satoshi's eyes are shaking here, something that they consistently do throughout the series when he's feeling a particularly strong emotion. Keep that in mind. It couples well with another trait of his, and that's his hat!

And by that I mean how he hides his eyes with the brim of it when upset, something he does exactly as Serena shows up and calls out to him. Now, he's not upset that Serena is here. He's upset about the pokemon stuff still. He's trying to hide the fact that he's upset from Serena.

Serena starts off with her speech well, trying to appeal to Satoshi to let her in and talk things out. And maybe it's because he wasn't ready for it yet, or because of the way she phrases it (a lot of 'i' and 'me' language which can be helpful but can also come across as though she's making it about her. not her intent i don't think, but a possible interpretation.), it's not her fault for how Satoshi reacts regardless.

But how Satoshi reacts is not good.

Now it's really interesting to note that before this, Serena was standing while Satoshi was sitting, putting her above him in terms of active power, when it comes to how the shot is presented, but when Satoshi stands up, the camera tilts with the movement so that they're on equal level. Neat!

And Serena yells in return, scolding Satoshi for not talking about it. Not the best move, since pushing someone to talk about something that's upsetting them isn't really productive, but she's trying here and she's frustrated.

Satoshi continues to withdraw and self isolate, claiming it is his problem and that he wants to be left be. Now, this is the mindset of a clearly upset person and isolation may not be the best option, but he did make the explicit request to be left alone here.

He's clearly upset as he turns away from Serena's eye and slumps over a little.

And then Serena throws a snowball at him.

Angry as he is, you can see Satoshi's expression change when he sees Serena's reaction.

Serena tells Satoshi that she's not like the Satoshi she knows, who is always full of energy and positive and a leader, and a bunch of other positive traits. The problem here, is that Serena's looking at an idealized version of Satoshi. And while the intent here was probably meant to be something more like "you have so many wonderful traits about you I know you can do this", coupled with the snowballs and the phrasing, it seems as though Serena is scolding Satoshi for being sad.

Or rather, being angry with him for not living up to her idealized version of him, and not wanting him to express any negitave emotions.

Which is sort of a really bad mindset.

The snowballs continue, never once does Satoshi fight back. In fact, he stops arguing entirely after the first one. Serena knocks him off his feet and tells him he's not being himself, before running off. (In the english dub, Serena claims that Satoshi isn't being "the real satoshi" and then demands that the real Satoshi be "given back", so it could be worse)

Satoshi decides to literally run his problems away, because it will help him reach some kind of conclusion, and immediately trips and falls down a large hill. No, I'm not making that up. Something like this just isn't like him. He's just gotta stop being sad!

Now personally, I really disagree with the idea that "being upset" isn't "like a person". That's because based off of my own experiences, I know it can be really damaging to hold the mindset that any negative emotions you feel aren't a part of you and that you shouldn't be upset because you're usually a positive and happy person. Not the case with every person, but I personally really have a problem with shows telling children that they just shouldn't be upset instead of processing their emotions in a meaningful way. (The journeys episode doesn't do an outstanding job of it either, but this is a bit of a tangent anyway. A show that does do this right is "OK KO! Let's be Heroes" which actually deals with this problem in greater depth and does a fantastic job of it.)

But the snowball scene ends here. Now I'll get back to Journeys in a moment, but since Serena has finished her part of the comparison for the most part, I'm going to summarize a bit more of the xy episode.

Satoshi decides to literally run his problems away, because it will help him reach some kind of conclusion, and immediately trips and falls down a large hill. No, I'm not making that up.

The snowstorm kicks in, Serena get back annoyed, then similarly groans and yells, and the whole xy gang + pokemon go running off in search of Satoshi. Pikachu appears the most concerned.

Now Serena tells the others she lost her cool and said something horrible to Satoshi, but explains its because Satoshi is someone she admires. Cool motive, I get it, still kinda bad.

and in the end, it's not Serena's words that get he message across to Satoshi. The solution to this problem was Satoshi finding a way to reaffirm his abilities and instinct.

In the xy episode, he helps some pokemon out of the tree, and when his very cool frog friend shows up, they're able to work together with their bond to save this one from falling off a cliff.

Here's the point. Satoshi learns by doing, by actions. He needs to see first hand that there are ways of getting past his problems, and that it's worth having the courage to keep going. The lesson is about valuing pokemon as equals and partners, and specifically that trying to be better as the trainer alone isn't going to help.

This is essentially where this plot line ends, team rocket is there for a bit as well but as much as i love them they're not relevant here, and some fun stuff with the league, love it not important right now its like 3am and I'm not sleeping until this is finished so we gotta keep things moving.

This was no doubt Serena's intent to get a similar point, but she goes about it the wrong way. She tries to convey this with words, as conversation and motivational words have helped her in the past (Elle's words of praise stick with her, Satoshi's words from when they were kids, etc). It's a good idea, but their different ways of learning and growing from a similar situation are incompatible, and that's why things don't work out in Serena's favour. There's also still the problem of "pulling yourself together" not being helpful in this case.

There's also a very similar line in this scene to the one at the end of the journeys episode, as Satoshi says to his frog that they should start over from scratch. It's essentially the same phrase with different wording. It's great. The Storm ends as he realizes this as well! Wonderful in terms of pathetic fallacy.

The gang all reunites, its nice. Satoshi thanks Serena for what she said after apologizing to everyone, which contradicts what he said earlier but I've already established that I dislike this message here so I won't go over it too much. I guess he's right in a literal sense in that in response to her words he went and ran until he tripped off a cliff but the emotional growth here was because of his own actions (and the frogs), not Serena's. Sorry Serena, you'll get em next time.

This is essentially where this plot line ends, team rocket is there for a bit as well but as much as i love them they're not relevant here, and some fun stuff with the league, love it not important right now its like 3am as I write this so we gotta keep things moving.

So. What about Goh?

Well...

(Part Two here on account of image limit!!)

[someonestolemyshoes]

Helplessly, Hopelessly

Cutting it a little close to the deadline, but here’s my entry for @levihan-drabbles​ Angst Monday! My prompt was: Levi and Hange are in an established long distance relationship, Levi surprises Hange by showing up right before midnight on New Year's Eve.

Once again, I got a little carried away :’) it’s not my favourite thing I’ve written this week but it’s done ahaha, please enjoy! And a HUGE thank you to the mods for running this whole thing, it’s been a lot of fun actually writing again.

Warnings: mentions of cheating (but I’m a big ol’ levihan sucker so worry not), body weight, anxiety/depression

It took him three attempts to knock. He even considered turning back and trying to change his flight, to head home and pretend this never happened, to live in blissful, agonising ignorance over Hange’s sudden, disinterested quiet. It was shameful, that he’d rather keep Hange ostensibly his than face any outcome where he lost them.

** 

Levi hadn’t intended on turning up quite so last minute.

His flight was supposed to land at noon, which would have given him ample time to make his way over to Hange’s part of the city. But the weather had not been in his favour—his first flight had been delayed due to intermittent snowstorms, the chill air so thick with snow, Levi could barely see his own hand in front of his face. In consequence, he had missed his connecting flight by well over an hour, and spent the majority of his evening sitting on the floor in the overcrowded airport, surrounded by his bags, sipping piss-water tea and waiting for the next available flight taking off to London.

It had been almost eight months since he had last seen Hange in person, and even then, they hadn’t spent nearly enough time together. Hange had returned home only briefly to attend their grandmother's funeral. Levi had seen them at the service, and they’d snagged a few hours together between family engagements and the regular study periods Hange had set aside for themself during their stay, but it felt rushed, lacking. Hange had seemed flustered, then. They had confessed that their studies were proving a lot more demanding than they had initially anticipated, that they were tired. That they were beginning to feel a little burnt out, but they had no time to take any substantial break without getting too far behind to catch up again.

Levi missed them. He and Hange had, from early in their childhood up until Hange left for university, spent almost every waking second in one another's company. It was impossible to recall a time when they weren’t together, excluding a handful of miserable periods during which Hange’s family had whisked them away on some holiday or other while Levi sat in his mothers tea shop and made himself as useful as any child could.

They had grown together, through school, through their awkward, angsty teenage phases, through Hange’s stuttering realisation that gender and sexuality were incredibly confusing things, and they had no idea where they stood on either spectrum. They had tried alcohol together for the first time, tried holding hands, tried kissing and fumbling with clumsy, nervous, eager hands in Hange’s old treehouse, a touch too small for two grown teenagers, but just big enough.

They had been each other's first partners, in every sense of the term. The progression, Levi remembers, had felt equal parts strange and yet completely natural. Expected. He and Hange fell into step with the same absent simplicity as breathing; it took little thought and even less effort, to love Hange as more than a friend.

And then, Hange left for university, and Levi stayed behind to help his mother with the shop. And things had still been easy, in a way. Hange was only a phone call away, and they made sure to call or text at least once a day, even if they only had the time to spare for a quick good morning or good night or did you shower? I can smell you from here or I love you, too.

It was okay. Not ideal, but manageable. But in the last few months, Hange’s texts had grown infrequent. They were busy, they’d told him. Too many deadlines, not enough time. They would get back to him when they could.

They never did.

It was always up to Levi to reach out, and Hange, to their credit, was always incredibly apologetic about the time elapsing between points of contact—I completely forgot, Levi! I’m so sorry. Now isn’t a good time though, I promise I’ll call you back when I get a minute?

Levi had tried to reason that they probably were busy. But there were terrible, guilty, nagging doubts, and they had only grown more as time went on, as Hange’s texts and calls dribbled down to almost nothing. 

It wasn’t that Levi didn’t trust Hange. He did, implicitly so. But they are young. A young couple from a small town, where a handful of kids their age are all they’ve ever known. And suddenly Hange was living in the big city, surrounded by like minded people—people who were astronomically smart, academically driven, who shared Hange’s interests. Who could do more than just listen while they chatted endlessly about plants or bugs or the vastness of the ocean, the movement of the Earth’s crust, the stars, the atmosphere in outer space, anything and everything that caught their interest. Levi had never been able to keep up, could only lend an ear and let Hange ramble until they were spent.

But they would meet people now, who could match them word for word and raise them facts they’d never even heard before. People Hange could have discussions with, debates with. People who could engage with Hange in a way Levi could never even hope to. The thought of it made his stomach hurt, and it crossed his mind too often, a guilty little echo in the back of his head every time Hange was too busy to talk to him. Every time his texts went unanswered.

And so, he had dipped into his savings and, with a little help from his mother, had bought a ticket to surprise Hange with a visit on New Years Eve. His mother assured him it was a sweet idea—romantic, she’d said, which had made Levi flush and scowl—but in truth, Levi had only decided on surprising Hange with the visit in fear that they wouldn’t want him to come, if he told them he planned on it.

Now, he was stuck navigating an endless network of underground trains, staring hopelessly at the maps on his phone and trying to figure out which line he needed to be on to make his way out to Hange’s apartment. It was already 11pm. Levi felt drained, his back and shoulders aching from carrying his luggage. The weather was cold and wet, the streets lined with slush that splashed up his legs and soaked into his shoes as he walked, and by the time he made it to what he hoped was Hange’s apartment building, an icy rain had started to fall, soaking into his pants and running in great rivulets from his coat.

He paused at the entrance. There was no keypad on the door, no way to buzz up to Hange’s room to get them to let him inside. He could ring them, but it had been weeks since Hange had answered his calls. Levi groaned, huddling under the small canopy above the door. It offered little shelter from the rain, and no barrier at all to the biting chill of the wind.

Levi had resolved to at least trying to call Hange when, by a stroke of luck he hadn’t thought possible today, the door opened, and three rather drunk and incredibly underdressed people tumbled out. They apologised to him as they stumbled by, but had the decency—or else the stupidity, Levi thought—to hold the door open for him. He thanked them quietly and slipped inside.

Hange’s apartment was on the third floor. Levi took the lift, which clattered ominously as it crawled four stories before shuddering to a stop. Levi’s stomach churned as he stepped out into the quiet hallway. There was a bubble of excitement, a thrill at the prospect of seeing Hange again after such a long time, but more than that, he felt nervous. He had no back up plan if Hange couldn’t, or wouldn’t, accommodate him. He wasn’t sure he had the money for a hotel even for a night or two, and he had optimistically booked his return flight for seven days’ time. If Hange had really changed their mind about him, about them, he had no idea what he would do.

Marking this off as one of his worst ideas to date, he dragged his luggage down the hall until he found apartment 3C.

It took him three attempts to knock. He even considered turning back and trying to change his flight, to head home and pretend this never happened, to live in blissful, agonising ignorance over Hange’s sudden, disinterested quiet. It was shameful, that he’d rather keep Hange ostensibly his than face any outcome where he lost them.

But he was here now. He had made his bed, and he would lie in it, whatever the outcome turned out to be. He rapped three times on the door, and waited.

And waited. And waited.

His mind wandered back to the party-goers he had passed in the doorway. It was New Year's Eve, and Hange was in university. It hadn’t crossed his mind that they might have plans, since he and Hange had always spent the night together, before now. But Hange couldn’t have anticipated Levi’s appearance; it would make sense, if they had taken one night off to enjoy themselves. Pass the occasion away with friends. With someone special, even. Someone who wasn’t him. Levi’s gut turned unpleasantly at the thought.

Lost in his musings, Levi almost missed the door opening. He blinked dazedly, took in the figure in the doorway, and his stomach dropped.

There was a man standing there. Taller than Levi, with a mop of light hair and a sweet, open face, wearing a somewhat rumpled, baggy shirt and a pair of threadbare sweatpants. He took in Levi’s appearance with a startled expression. Levi swallowed hard, mouth dry, tongue thick behind his teeth.

“I’m looking for Hange,” he said. Cleared his throat. “Are they home?”

The man jumped at the sound of Levi’s voice. He rallied himself well enough, then nodded, and turned to call over his shoulder, “Hange? There’s someone at the door for you.”

Levi mumbled his thanks. He felt lightheaded, heart thudding in his chest. For a moment he and the strange man simply looked at each other, until he heard a familiar voice from inside saying, “Moblit? If it’s Nanaba, tell her to go away. I already said I’m not going.”

“Not Nanaba,” Moblit called back. Levi heard the shuffle of footsteps, and then Moblit stepped aside, and he was face to face with Hange.

It seemed to take them a second to register who he was. Their tired eyes landed on him, bloodshot and bruised purple behind their glasses. Levi watched slowly as realisation dawned on them. Their eyes grew wide, lips—dry, cracked—parted in surprise, and their skin, already sickly looking, paled further. Levi’s gaze darted to Moblit over their shoulder and back again. He opened his mouth to say something, anything, but no words would come. Blood pounded in his ears.

He never should have come. He had thought he was prepared for any eventuality, ready to accept that Hange might have found some happiness in somebody else. Ready to let them go. It would be painful, he knew; it’d suck, more than anything. But he had thought he was ready for that.

In front of Hange now, staring the prospect in the face, Levi realised he was terribly mistaken. He could not have anticipated how sick he would feel, how dizzy; his chest felt heavy, full and leaden and yet hollow all the same. The most painful kind of emptiness. He looked at Hange and tried to find something to say, but his mind was blank. He could think of nothing but Hange, and the man still standing a little way behind them, watching curiously out of the corner of his eye.

The silence was long, and dreadful. Neither Levi nor Hange spoke. Levi, for his part, couldn’t find words to say, and wouldn’t have been able to push them past the lump in his throat either way. Hange had tears welling in their eyes. They built up thick and heavy on their lash line, swimming in the light from the hallway, before spilling down their cheeks.

A terrible, bitter part of him thought that Hange had no right to cry.

And then, without any warning at all, hange launched themselves at him. Their weight hit him full in the chest, their arms winding around his back and squeezing tightly, punching the air from his lungs. Their face pressed into the side of Levi’s neck and he could feel wetness on his skin, an endless flow of tears as something wretched and agonising ripped from their throat; a sob, the heavy, desperate kind that bursts up from the gut and hacks out like a terrible cough. Again, and again, Hange sobbed, sucking jumpy, shaking breaths and crying them out again.

Instinctively, Levi’s arms came up around Hange, too. One hand carded into their hair—it felt limp and greasy and knotted between his fingers—and the other flattened against their back. Something twisted in his gut. Hange felt thin. Too thin. He could trace the knots of their spine and the ridges and valleys of their rib cage; their skin pulled taut over their shoulder blades; their hip bones dug into him where Hange had pressed themself impossibly close.

Levi’s pain was replaced abruptly by concern. He held Hange a little tighter, but they felt breakable in his arms now. Fragile. Hange had never felt so small before.

Moblit’s voice broke Levi out of his stupor. He had a kind smile on his face, though his eyes held the same worry Levi felt.

“Maybe you should come inside?” He suggested. Hange sniffled against Levi’s neck. They took a few big, gulping breaths to steady themself, pulling away, though still remaining close. Levi watched as Hange pulled the sleeve of their jumper over their hand and rubbed at their cheeks, at their eyes. Something in his chest ballooned, pressing hard against his ribs, his throat. Hange looked a complete mess. Levi felt concerned, and confused. Even still, looking at Hange now, he felt terribly certain of one thing: he loved them. Helplessly, hopelessly, he loved them.

He let Hange step out of his grip slowly. His hands lingered, slipping around their waist and down their arm, but before he could move too far away, Hange closed their fingers tight around his. Levi stared at their knotted hands, then at Hange, and wordlessly let them drag him inside.

Belatedly, Levi remembered he was drenched. He could see wet patches on Hange’s jumper where they had been pressed against him, and the chill of his wet clothes seemed to sink into his bones as he crossed over the entryway. They passed Moblit, who watched them with some intrigue, then wandered out into the hallway only to return with Levi’s luggage in tow.

Hange’s apartment was open plan, the kitchen separated from the sitting room only by a countertop. It was small, and cosy, cluttered in the way Hange’s spaces always tended to be. They kept plants on every available surface, but Levi could see that some were in desperate need of tending, with dry, shrivelling leaves and sagging stems. That wasn’t like Hange at all.

By the sofas, Hange stopped him.

“Give me your coat,” they said. Their voice still sounded thick and choked, and they sniffled pitifully, but they were no longer crying. Levi obliged them in a daze. Hange took his dripping coat and tossed it, uncaring, over one of the stools by the counter. Moblit quietly collected it and hung it on a hook on the back of the door.

“What are you even doing here?” Hange asked, sitting down and pulling on Levi’s sleeve until he dropped down beside them. “How did you get here? When?”

Levi’s eyes roved over Hange’s face. He couldn’t figure out how they felt. It was an uncomfortable realisation—Hange had always been an open book to him, easy to parse no matter what they were feeling. Now, they seemed...reserved. Subdued. Not the Hange he was used to.

“I had some savings,” Levi said slowly. He cleared his throat, debated on what level of honesty he was going to reply with, before saying, “I hadn’t heard from you in a while. Wanted to make sure you hadn’t up and died on me.”

At that, Hange’s expression grew somber. They grimaced, and Levi watched fresh tears well in their eyes. He reached for their hand without thought, and Hange gripped on tightly. Levi let his thumb brush lazily back and forth over their knuckles.

“I’m sorry,” Hange said. “I’m really sorry. I just—things have been—I don’t know. I don’t know.”

Hange rubbed a hand tiredly over their face, then let their head drop onto his shoulder. They felt warm, a welcome weight against him. Levi let his cheek rest against their head, felt the tickle of their hair against his skin. Hange pressed closer, and Levi turned to nudge a kiss to their hairline.

The sound a stool scraping the floor turned Levi’s attention to Moblit. Levi shot him a look that was probably a little more murderous than intended, but fought to relax his frown at Moblit’s wide-eyed expression. Moblit scratched a little awkwardly at the back of his neck.

“Would you--ah, would you like a drink of anything?”

“Tea,” Hange mumbled. “He likes tea. There’s early grey in the cupboard, I think.”

Moblit nodded, and turned quickly into the kitchen. Hange adjusted their grip on Levi’s hand, until they were palm to palm, fingers slotted loosely together. Levi could feel them taking long, measured breaths.

“I’m really sorry,” they said again. Levi half wanted to tell them to stop apologising, but—well, until he knew for certain what they were apologising for, he couldn't be sure if they really needed to say it. “I know I’ve been a little...distant, lately. I’m sorry. I kept—I wanted to get back to you, I promise I did. I wanted to talk to you more than anything, but everything is just—God, Levi. Everything is going wrong.”

Levi gave a quiet, questioning hum. He knew Hange; there was no need for him to prompt them. If Hange had something to say, they would say it whether he probed or not. He waited, and eventually, Hange let out a distressed little sound and turned their face fully into his neck.

“Everything’s...so much harder than I thought it would be. There’s so much work to do, all the time. I’m struggling to meet all the deadlines. I keep failing my tests. I’m so tired, Levi. I just want a break, but there’s no time.”

Levi unthreaded his fingers from theirs and looped his arm around their back instead. He ran his fingers lightly up and down Hange’s spine, settled his face into their hair.

This side of Hange wasn’t wholly new to him. He had seen Hange upset and overwhelmed a handful of times before, but it hurt all the same—and more still, when he considered the fact that Hange had been feeling like this for who knows how long, without him even being aware.

“You can tell me shit like this,” he said. Hange flinched a little.

“I know,” they said quietly. “I know I can. But I...you’re so far away. And I knew you’d want to help, if I told you, but travelling this far isn’t—I couldn’t ask that of you. I didn’t want you to worry.”

Levi knocked his knuckles gently to Hange’s head. “Stupid. Look how that turned out.”

Hange let out a wet laugh. “Yeah, it kinda backfired, huh? Or did it? Maybe it was a ploy to get you to come out here all along.”

Hange sounded tired. Drained. The joke was weak and hollow without the right injection of humour, but Hange, it seemed, didn’t even have the energy to pretend to sound amused. Levi gave a scoff of a laugh anyway.

“Congratulations,” he said, deadpan. “You got me.”

The conversation fell flat. He was so used to having Hange talk his ear off that the quiet between them felt awkward, stifling. Hange only breathed, long, measured breaths, while Levi held them loosely against him. Moblit pottered around in the kitchen. While Levi felt mostly certain that things between them, at least, were okay, he was still curious about Moblit’s presence—but it felt like the wrong time to ask.

As if they could read his mind, though, Hange said, “Moblit’s been helping me study for the catch-up exams.”

“Oh?”

Hange hummed. “He’s good. I think I’ll give him an aneurysm one day, though.”

“That makes two of us.”

“Oi,” Hange grumbled, digging their fingers weakly into his sides. Moblit chose that moment to come into the sitting room juggling three cups of tea. He looked a little apologetic as he handed one over to Levi, who took it with a mumbled thanks.

“I’ve been telling Hange they should speak to you,” he said. Hange made a quiet, affronted noise, lifting their head and sitting up straight to take the tea Moblit offered them. “I thought it might help if they had someone to actually talk to. I can help out with the academic stuff, but the rest…” he trailed away, and Levi caught his gaze flitting to Hange’s thin frame, then back up to Levi’s face.

“Moblit, you’re a whole traitor,” Hange said. 

In unison, Levi and Moblit rolled their eyes. Hange had settled their weight against Levi’s side again, feet tucked up on the sofa next to them, and was busy glaring at Moblit over their steaming tea cup. Levi laid his hand on Hange’s knee and gave it a small squeeze.

“I like him,” Levi said. “He’s got good ideas. You should listen to him more, Hange.”

Moblit looked pleased with himself, though there was nothing smug about it. He seemed like the kind, earnest type—pair that with his intellect, and Levi wasn’t surprised at all that Hange seemed fond of him. He felt a pang of jealousy at the thought, then considered their positions; Hange was nestled into his side, had cried on his shoulder, and was holding his hand. It was petty, but Levi took some small delight in it all the same.

Hange poked out their tongue at Moblit, who wasted no time in telling them he knew he had been right. Hange struggled to find a compelling argument against him, and resorted instead to more petulant, childish gestures. Moblit looked perfectly used to the behaviour and retaliated little, only reiterated his stance and pointed out rather happily that Levi agreed with him.

The atmosphere felt warm, calm. Hange seemed, for the moment at least, something close to content, with a soft smile that almost reached their eyes. Levi felt marginally more at ease than he had done prior to coming, though Hange's current state made him anxious—but at least he understood the problem, now. He could help in the coming days, and then continue to offer whatever support the distance would allow. He determined then that he wouldn't let Hange go silent on him, that they'd come to an agreement before he left, to ensure Hange would talk to him next time.

He listened as Moblit and Hange quietly bickered over their tea. Hange's usual energy was severely lacking, their tone less volatile. There was no indignant flush of colour to their cheeks and the shine in their eyes was dull, subdued. But they were no longer crying. No longer on the brink of breaking. Levi would take that, for now.

The three of them were startled suddenly by the loud crack and boom of fireworks outside. The sky lit up in vibrant colour, flashing and receding in tandem with each bang and pop and fizz that rent the air. For a moment, they all paused. Hange and Moblit turned to look out the window, while Levi—sappy, hopeless fool that he was, could only look at Hange. The light played across their pale face, glinting from their glasses, filling out the hollows of their cheeks and their sunken eyes until they looked almost whole again. Levi gave their hand a small squeeze. Hange's gaze remained glued to the sky, but they squeezed back just as hard.

Moblit was the first to speak, when the light show came to an end. He checked his watch, then looked up and smiled.

"Happy New Year."

Levi blinked. He had all but forgotten the day and the time, too wrapped up in his concern for Hange. He turned to look at them, and found Hange watching him already. Now, they had some colour—a light blush of pink on the apple of each cheek. Levi's heart stuttered in his chest. They'd been together for long enough, had years of sure kisses and even more stray ones, and yet, every damn time, the prospect of kissing Hange made his palms sweat, his chest tighten with giddy, childish excitement.

“Another year without breaking tradition,” Hange said, a little breathlessly. Levi felt gratified to know that Hange seemed just as affected as he did. “You made it right on time.” 

Hange kissed him as softly as ever. Levi's hand braced on their narrow waist as he kissed them back. Hange melted against him, their lips rough and dry but pliant, opening easily to the gentle press of his tongue. It took a concentrated effort to remember himself, remember their company, to keep the kiss somewhat chaste; to stop himself nudging Hange to lay back on the sofa and cover their body with his own.

He pulled away reluctantly, entirely too pleased when Hange chased him a little way, stealing another quick kiss or two before leaning against the back of the sofa and looking at him. The flush on their face was more prominent, now. Levi quietly delighted in it.

Moblit sighed, almost wistfully, and gathered up their empty cups. Hange cooed quietly at him.

"Don't worry, Moblit," they said. "You'll get your turn soon. When does Nifa get back again?"

Moblit's face flamed. Levi had never seen someone colour so quickly, bright red from his neck to his hairline.

He stormed through to the kitchen, and choked out, "Next week, I think. And it's not like that, Hange."

"Not yet," Hange corrected. "We'll get you there."

Hange let out a great yawn. The little light of life in them, the small pleasure of teasing, snuffed out as they sat up straighter, spine crunching in several places as they did.

"We should get back to work," they said. They sounded dull again—Levi could hear the strain of stress in their tone. Moblit looked a little torn. Levi shook his head.

"It can wait," Levi said. "I've had a long, shitty day, and you," he pinched the skin of their cheek, tugging a little, "need sleep. You look like shit."

Hange's face twisted. Levi could see the anxiety building in them, churning. He cut them off before they could say anything more. "A few hours, four-eyes. You're not gonna remember shit when you're tired anyway."  

"Levi's right, Hange," Moblit interjected. He looked tired, too. Levi felt a pang of sympathy for him—how many hours of sleep had he sacrificed trying to help Hange desperately prepare?

Levi tugged on their hand, pulling them in closer as he sunk back, reclining a little on the sofa.

"I'm tired," he said plainly. And then, embarrassed by the heat already flooding his cheeks, he added, "I've missed you. Just a few hours."

Levi was never blatantly vocal about his feelings. He considered himself very lucky that Hange knew him well, and could understand the intent behind his rude remarks. Right now, though, he felt desperate. And his honesty paid off.

Hange scrutinised him for a short moment, then said, "okay. But only a few hours."

"Deal."

"Just a nap."

"Fine."

Hange adjusted to tuck themself against his chest. They drew their knees up and curled into his side, dragging a throw from the back of the sofa and adjusting it to drape over them both. Moblit settled himself quietly on the other sofa.

Levi drew absent patterns over Hange's back with his fingertips. His touch bumped over their spine, bones even more pronounced with their back curled the way it was. How long had it been since they ate a proper meal? How regularly did they ingest something more substantial than a protein bar? He knew Hange was prone to fits of forgetfulness when they became too fixated on one task or another, easily bypassing meal times and leaving it too long between showers, but hunger always won out in the end. Hange had always been a little on the skinny side, but this, now; it scared him. They looked, and felt, unhealthy.

He dropped a harsh kiss to the top of their head. He wanted to say so many things, felt full with the weight of it all—I'm worried about you, you're scaring me, please look after yourself, I love you. Instead, he kissed them again, roughly, nuzzling his face into their hair, and hoped somehow they would understand.

Tomorrow, Levi will drag them for a shower. He will make them a good breakfast. He will make sure they drink water, and take small breaks during their studies, even just five minutes to breathe and regroup. Tomorrow, he will stand by as a silent support. He will let Moblit guide Hange through their studies, help where Levi cannot, and then, if things get too much, if Hange needs something to ground themself again, Levi will be right there.

Tomorrow.

But for now, Levi will make sure they rest.

[dalekofchaos]

Ways I would change the Monsterverse

I love the Monsterverse, but that doesn’t mean there aren’t any problems I have with it. But these are what I would change about the movies if I could.

Godzilla 2014

Joe Brody would live. It still pisses me off how they wasted Bryan Cranston’s role in this movie. You have Bryan Cranston, who was hot off the ending of Breaking Bad and you don’t even make him the protagonist of your first movie in your cinematic universe??? But what I’d do is Joe would live. Both Joe and Ford would work together in stopping the MUTOs and aiding Godzilla. Joe would be asked by Serizawa to join MONARCH. 

I’d recast Elle Brody by having Taissa Farmiga play her and we’d tease Elle and Ford’s child by naming her “Madison”(Reason for the recast. Elizabeth Olsen is too attached to the MCU to ever return.) Also I would have Elle be a scientist for MONARCH who is a Nurse as a cover. 

More scenes with Godzilla

A scene mocking the 98 movie. Maybe someone asks “didn’t Godzilla attack New York City in 1998?” Serizawa would correct them by saying that was not Gojira, it was Zilla and not even a Titanus Class. Also, Zilla would be the product of the French government attempting to create their own Titan, but ultimately failing

Kong:Skull Island

Movie’s perfection, I would change nothing about it

Godzilla:King Of The Monsters

Madison would be the daughter of Ford and Elle Brody. Reason? I fucking hate Mark Russell or as me and my friend refer to him as Blandy McBlanderson Dad.(Especially because literally all he added to that movie was "Waaaaa! I hate Godzilla because my son died in the MUTO attack! He should have not fought the MUTOs and let them kill even more people!" Oh, with a side of mansplaining.) Plus it makes more sense for the family to be the family we’ve known from the first movie as the human protagonists of the Monsterverse. 

Same story. Elle and Madison are held hostage by Alan Jonah. So Ford and Joe assist Monarch so that their family could be saved. 

Joe would sacrifice himself to save Godzilla and Serizawa would live

Elle would die in place of Emma

Godzilla vs Kong

I would ditch the Hollow Earth plot. Not necessarily a bad idea, but a bit too far fetched if you ask me. Instead of "We need to find the Hollow Earth", it'd instead be "We need to find a way to get the storm on Skull Island to dissipate". As for what Monarch would be looking for? The Weather Control Capsule. In Son Of Godzilla, The weather control devices were set up on Sogell Island to attempt to alter weather patterns. On their first test, in an attempt to cool the island, something went wrong. The Radioactivity Sonde blew up, causing the island to heat up and mutate the native giant mantis into Kamacuras because of the radiation. The device also caused massive storms, revealing Minilla's egg. The device was used again during the fight between Godzilla and Kumonga. It worked successfully, and jets of gas were released from the towers which caused temperatures to drop and a snowstorm to begin forming.  Monarch would raid a facility in Apex to get the weather control capsule and we would find out that Ren used it to cause the storm on Skull Island. They use it to end the storm and balance to Skull Island is restored.

Oh, and the natives of the island wouldn't be killed off. That just didn't sit right with me.

Madison and Jia would get to meet and be friends. How we get this to work? Madison is interning with Monarch and currently at Skull Island with Kong (though there'd probably be a line of dialogue referencing how, while she likes Kong, she's biased and Godzilla remains her favourite) Madison and Jia are pretty much friends and the closest thing Jia has to a sister. And Madison would be the person who interoperates with Jia with sign language. ALso Madison would represent the team Godzilla fanbase, while Jia would represent the Team King fanbase.

Since Madison would be with Monarch, her father would be there to watch over her. Ford would later die in Mechagodzilla’s attack

Replace Ilene Andrews with Mason Weaver. Kind of disappointed no one from Kong Skull Island returned. But yes Mason would return if I had my way. 

Actually do something with Ren Serizawa, make him the villain behind Mechagodzilla. I would say is he took the ashes and assets of Jonah's group and formed Apex Industries. His philosophies differs from his father. He believes humans should be the apex species so he created Mechagodzilla to kill his father's precious titan and reclaim humanity's dominance over Earth as the Apex Predators

Touching scene between the Serizawas I'd say it'd reveal what had been up to that point hinted at throughout the film; what Ren's reason for his belief is his reason and motivation is that Ren sees the chaos the titans cause on the earth and believes something must be done. While Ishirō believes the dominant Titans need to keep the other Titans in line. But there is something more personal. Ren’s mother died when he was just a boy and he always held resentment towards his father for not choosing to stop the Titans.  And honestly, I think it'd be good to have both Serizawas being emotionally vulnerable and showcasing that they both hate how they've been driven apart by their conflicting beliefs and that, while Ren really does stand by what he's doing and will go through with it, he hates that it's hurting his father. After their reunion and consolation, Ren would attempt to deactivate Mechagodzilla, for a brief moment Mechagodzilla is deactivated and it looks like everything was solved, but then it reactivates itself, having become self-aware and kills Ren.

Mechagodzilla would be built on the skeleton and skull of one of Godzilla’s ancestors instead of Ghidorah’s remains. Remember the skeleton of Godzilla in the 2014 movie? Use that for Mechagodzilla

Change the Mechagodzilla design. I do like what we were given. But I would want something more bulky like the Monsterverse Godzilla design. Something like this concept by eatalllot 

Give Kong a win. First battle would take place on the boat. Second battle would take place on Skull Island. Third and final battle would take place in Hong Kong. In the attempt to find a solution for the storm, they transport Kong. Godzilla attacks the boat and Kong retreats to the island. Godzilla is coming to make Kong submit and then we have the fight between Kong and Godzilla on Skull Island. Since Skull Island is the homefield advantage, that's where King would win, even in the storm.  During the fight. Kong would rip off one of the dorsal plates and make the axe. This would send Godzilla in retreat, Kong looks dominant and Godzilla is fucking pissed, he has more important matters to deal with in Apex. Then the fight in Hong Kong would remain the same and the team up with Kong and Godzilla vs Mechagodzilla would remain the same and ends with Godzilla and Kong recognizing each other as equals 

It ends with Kong, Jia, Lind and Mason returning to Skull Island. Serizawa would take in Madison and mentor her. And two final shots of Godzilla and Kong as the dominant titans

[letterboxd]

Love Thy Neighbor.

With her nineteenth-century American romance, The World to Come—starring Katherine Waterston and Vanessa Kirby—screening now, director Mona Fastvold talks to Ella Kemp about the need to create images, striving for ASMR storytelling, and just how much we owe Terrence Malick.

“We’ve seen a lot of movies during this time period in America about what the husbands were out doing… but they had wives who are at home, living their completely separate lives. What were they up to?” —Mona Fastvold

In the American Northeast in the nineteenth century, life for farmers’ wives is physical, lonely, subject to both the extremes of weather and their husbands’ moods. When Abigail (Katherine Waterston) and Tallie (Vanessa Kirby) become neighbors in The World To Come, their lives become infinitely more bearable.

What unfolds is a careful study of the ways affection and understanding can bloom in the most unlikely places. Based on Jim Shepard’s short story of the same name, Mona Fastvold’s desperately romantic film starts where Abigail’s diary also begins: with a new year, and new neighbors. Through lyrical voice-over and closely drawn scenes, Abigail tells of how, in the wake of unimaginable loss, her life is cracked wide open by the arrival of effervescent, free-spirited Tallie. She speaks of grief and exhaustion, but also of astonishment and joy.

Katherine Waterston as Abigail and Vanessa Kirby as Tallie in ‘The World to Come’. / Photo by Vlad Cioplea

It’s a story felt through whispers as much as kisses, framed by the blustery winds of the East-Coast frontier—and by the spectre of their husbands (Casey Affleck as the downcast Dyer, Christopher Abbott as the jealous, disturbing Finney) finding out about their new love. Fastvold gives each character just enough attention to let the relationships that matter most rise up all on their own. She does so with words, poetry that somehow feels alive, and with music—specifically, a stunningly passionate clarinet soundtrack.

The World to Come won the Queer Lion at Venice last August (where it miraculously had an in-person premiere), and won many more hearts at Sundance in January. It’s Fastvold’s second film as director, after 2014’s The Sleepwalker, which also starred Christopher Abbott, and was co-written by Fastvold’s partner (and Vox Lux director) Brady Corbet.

What did you feel when reading Jim’s story for the first time? Mona Fastvold: It was a home I wanted to move into. It was this feeling of thinking, ‘This belongs in my universe, and I belong in this universe.’ And I all of a sudden had a few images that I felt a very strong need to create. The first thing that I felt really compelled to do was creating this physical expression of joy after the first kiss. I had this image of Katherine in this wide shot, completely open and just exposed. And I was really compelled to shoot her in the snow by the grave as well.

I also wanted to frame her being tied to the house with a rope, working her way through the snowstorm. There was a lot of amazing text and maybe fewer images in the script, because it’s written by these two really wonderful writers and authors of novels, not so much screenplays. So it’s not a very technical screenplay, and there were a lot of things left to me to work out, which I enjoyed. But the foundation was this really good text.

Mona Fastvold on the set of ‘The World to Come’. / Photo by Toni Salabasev

The text is so striking, in the way it’s so verbose but never feels stiff. How did you keep the words intact while bringing these emotions to life? I cast some really good actors, so that helps! Then when you’re working with this kind of text, it’s not really a text that you can improvise or play around as much, you really just need to honor it. For me it’s really about finding the movement that will support the beats of the text. I like the edit to be motivated by a gesture, something that says, “I want you to look at this”. I’m trying to make the rhythm more exciting. Ping-ponging back and forth is less exciting to me.

When rehearsing, we’d create movement either physically, or find changes through long pauses already in the text, and then upon finding those organic beats I’d figure out with my DP how we can stay in one take for as long as possible, until we find that moment which motivates a change. I never like there to be a camera movement just for there to be something cool visually. And there’s all this subtext in the text, all these messages Abigail and Tallie are trying to send to each other. When are you being direct? When are you being understood? When are you not?

Particularly in recent years, we’ve been fortunate to have a number of films that reframe period pieces about forbidden lesbian romances. Why do you think we keep coming back to this kind of story? A lot of people feel compelled to say these stories have always been there, and to claim that part of history. It’s not modern, it’s not a new thing, but it’s just that these stories have not been told much. Especially a love story that takes place among farmers. We know a little bit about upper-class stories from some literature, but not that much from that time period. So part of the appeal for me was to say: this is a part of history. Even though it’s not a story about Napoleon, this story about these two quiet, introverted women is still worth exploring. And we’ve seen a lot of movies during this time period in America about what the husbands were out doing. I’ve grown up watching these movies, but they had wives who are at home, living their completely separate lives. What were they up to?

Finney (Christopher Abbott) reads Tallie’s mail. / Photo by Vlad Cioplea

You mention the husbands—I felt watching this film that it was set in a very different world to the likes of Portrait of a Lady on Fire, which a lot of people loved precisely because of how few men were in the film. But here the husbands play a really important part within the story about these two women, helping to convey their frustration and limitations, without taking over. All characters in a story deserve equal counts of love and attention from the writers, directors and actors. It was incredibly important to portray the men with as much nuance as Abigail and Tallie. It makes for a more interesting story for them, that their relationships with their partners are complex—they’re not just these male archetypes who are terrible and awful. Dyer was an interesting character, in that he’s striving to understand even though he doesn’t quite. And he had different ambitions as well, but this is the situation he’s in, and he’s chosen a practical partner who he respects, and I guess loves and cares for. But they’re running a farm together, they’re business partners as well and depend on each other for survival. When he says “I’ll die without you” it’s quite literal, in a way. I wanted to break these characters open and make them more difficult to deal with, for themselves and for the women as well.

Your picture includes a beautiful, and really unexpected score by Daniel Blumberg—particularly in the use of the clarinet, which feels like its own kind of narrative. Can you talk me through the process of weaving that into the story? I brought in Daniel even when I was developing the script and working on casting early on. I kept listening to ‘Three Pieces for Solo Clarinet’ by Igor Stravinsky, and somehow the instrument felt really connected to Katherine’s voice-over. It was important that the voice-over was not slammed on top at the end. It’s there, I hope, to have a bit of an ASMR effect where you feel it draws you really close to Abigail in a hypnotic way. That you feel like you get this intimate experience of that character by having access to her life even if it doesn’t explain things too much.

So we wanted to have the score speaking to the voice-over, which we recorded long before we started shooting as well. We would play it on set and Daniel would come in and play music there. So constantly being in dialogue between the text being read and the music being played was an important part of the process.

It’s time for some Life in Film questions. What is your favorite ‘forbidden love’ story? A film I really love, which inspired The World to Come, is Olivia. It’s from 1951 and it’s directed by Jacqueline Audry, and it was one of the first lesbian on-screen kisses ever captured. It’s a great movie directed by a female director when that wasn’t so much of a thing. It was an important trailblazer for this film.

Marie-Claire Olivia and Simone Simon in Jacqueline Audry’s ‘Olivia’ (1951).

What’s your favourite “Dear Diary” movie, the one that best uses a confessional voice-over? Terrence Malick pretty much cornered that market with some beautiful, beautiful attempts at that. We definitely have to pay our respects! Particularly Days of Heaven is pretty amazing. The voice-over work there is extraordinary.

What is your go-to comfort movie? It’s funny because I was asked that a while ago and normally I would just be like, “Anything Nancy Meyers makes is just so lovely”. She makes these films that are just like candy. But during the pandemic, it’s just too hard to watch these cozy movies, because it just makes you feel depressed. So right now, the film I’ve watched the most in my lifetime is Eyes Wide Shut. I also find it to be a Christmas movie… If it’s on anywhere, I’ll always leave it on, or just watch a little piece of it.

What should Letterboxd members watch after The World to Come? First of all they should watch Olivia if they haven’t seen it, and then the other day I watched Martin Eden—it’s an incredible movie. So beautifully made.

What is the one film that first made you want to be a filmmaker? I grew up watching a lot of movies. My family are cinephiles and I’ve always loved films. I grew up on a steady diet of Ingmar Bergman’s films during my teenage years, and Tarkovsky too. Seeing those films made a really big impression me. But what really inspired me in many ways was seeing Claire Denis’ films. The way she approaches storytelling is so intuitive. It’s so exciting. That resonated with me, and later on I recognized some of that in Lucrecia Martel as well. I just love how she handles time and logic and character.

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Follow Bleecker Street on Letterboxd

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‘The World to Come’ is currently in select US theaters, and will be available on demand from March 2, via Bleecker Street.

[respectablesentiment]

A hand tears at Dina’s hood, another grabs her ankle, dragging her back until she can kick it off. By the time she looks up, a runner has broken through the fence, Ellie is yelling and on her back, pushing and shoving and attempting to hold it away from her. -- prompt: abandonment, day 5 of elliedina week this is a sequel to day 4, please read 'warmth' first to understand the background. AU where Ellie was never bitten, until she is. set the day after the winter dance. Dina POV.

(day 1: ache) | (day 2: dawn) | (day 3: trouble) | (day 4: warmth)

or you can read ‘gone’ here:

gone

Dina gets the girl. Finally.

They dance long into the night, swaying together until the band packs up.

Ellie had always been so hard to wrangle, reluctant to show up and unwilling to join in. It seemed like all the tension melted from her body when their lips touched, her smile was warm and dopey, her eyes full of hope and disbelief, and all protests about dancing faded in her reverie.

Ellie’s arms around her were warm and protective, her cheek brushing against Dina’s was soft, and Dina just couldn’t stop kissing her.

It felt like a daydream.

Dina wanted to take it slow, not push too soon. They part that night with a tender smile and the promise of tomorrow. She spends most of the night lying awake, grinning to herself in the darkness. She’d cared for Ellie deeply for a long time, felt an instant connection to the awkward silent girl who showed up with tear-stained cheeks and a wistful smile.

There was something about her that stuck out, that both rattled and called Dina to her.

It never really made sense until she saw Ellie with Cat and then the confusing feelings swirling in her stomach crystallised into spikes.

It made her more determined to make things work with Jesse, but they knew that the love between them was just friendship and convenience. She’ll always be thankful for him and his calm presence, a steady ship in the storm, content to sit beside her silently on the anniversaries of darker days and eager to encourage her to follow her heart.

He eyes them warningly the next morning before patrol, running through his normal instructions with an additional plea to be safe.

The sky is clear and the day is bright.          

And then it isn’t.

A snowstorm takes them off the road, into an old library where they lose themselves for a couple of hours until the weather lightens.

Ellie is eager to move on, to finish running the route so they can return without worrying everyone.

They must have been in the eye of the storm then, unknowing and hopeful, ignorant to what was ahead of them.

The sky grew darker and the snow picked up obscuring their vision.

They leave their horses when they spot a lone runner ahead. Ellie slowly creeping forward to grab it. A broken street sign creaking in the wind.

When Ellie is halfway, she freezes.

It takes Dina a second longer to hear it, to registers the groans around them. Staggering footsteps. Then snarls and screeches.

She rushes forward just as Ellie rushes back, grasping at one another before sprinting onwards.

“Run,” Ellie says breathlessly. “We have to run.”

Dina is terrified, scrambling down a steep hill, losing her footing at times and sliding to keep momentum. They pass several houses, twisting and turning in the darkness, and her socks are wet from the creeks they splash through.

They’re so close, just behind them and beside them and ahead of them as they zigzag across the rooftops of buses.

“Here!” Ellie shouts just as Dina feels there’s no escape, vaulting over a fence.

Dina follows, heart racing as they search for a way forward.

There’s Infected slamming on the gate.

A narrow passageway down the side of the building in front of them, protected only by a chain link fence.

Dina pushes Ellie forward, following her closely as they run, the fence crumples under the weight, Ellie’s hand finds hers as they shimmy along, backs pressed to the wall as they attempt to avoid the hands grasping for them.

The fence crumples further, and before Dina realises they are crawling.

Forward, forward, forward.

A hand tears at Dina’s hood, another grabs her ankle, dragging her back until she can kick it off.

By the time she looks up, a runner has broken through the fence, Ellie is yelling and on her back, pushing and shoving and attempting to hold it away from her.

Dina shoots before she can think about it.

Pure instinct and adrenaline.

She helps Ellie to her feet, tugging her forwards as more come through the fence.

Ellie looks shaken, blood splattered across her face, but there’s no time.

“Come on, there’s too many,” Dina says. “Run, go!” She covers her, shooting a few as they make it through before continuing.

“Here, here!” Ellie yells, throwing a molotov at the Infected approaching from the other end of the hallway.

They take the door to their right, barricading it before taking a breath. The door slams and jumps unnervingly in front of them.

“There’s so many,” Ellie says quietly.

Dina is panting, her hands on her knees and her heart in her throat. “Where the hell did they come from?”

“Doesn’t matter, we gotta find a way out,” Ellie says, her jaw clenched as she moves forward.

Ellie peers through the gaps in the boarded-up windows, antsy and restless.

Dina searches for supplies and weapons as quickly as she can, tossing a steel bar to Ellie.

“Watch the windows,” Ellie says quietly, moments before a runner climbs through.

They put at least four down before they move forward again. It’s only then that Dina recognises where they are, the old gondola station.

Ellie curses under her breath. “Quick, help me with this,” she asks, shutting the door beside them and tipping one of the large lockers into place to hold it shut. “That won’t last long.”

“We gotta move,” Dina says, scanning their surroundings. “The window, we just need a boost.” She’s still desperately searching as they’re rushed again.

They work together to take care of it, aware of the splintering door behind them.

Together they push one of the gondolas back onto a trolley, moving it over to the window to climb over and out.

“Forward, forward,” Ellie chants. “Come on, go!”

There’s more outside than Dina can count, climbing over cars, rushing closer and closer in the snowstorm.

“Here, this door!” Ellie yells, shooting a runner as it comes almost come enough to grab her.

They get inside, lungs burning and Dina holds the door shut as Ellie fits a solid plank of wood in the barricade brackets.

“You okay?” Ellie asks, turning to her, her eyes are wide and fearful as she grips Dina’s shoulders to look her over. “Are you alright? Did they touch you?” Ellie demands, she pushes at Dina’s sleeves, pulls at the collar of her jacket to examine her neck.

It’s only then that Dina sees it.

The stain on Ellie’s sleeve, the tear in her jacket, the bite on her arm.

“You-” Dina stammers, heart cracking in her chest.

“Are you alright?” Ellie demands again.

Dina nods jerkily, clutching at Ellie. “Ellie-”

Tears streaming down her cheeks.

“We can’t stay here,” Ellie says, looking back to the door. “You need to keep moving.”

“Ellie,” Dina sobs brokenly.

Ellie is more focused on another doorway behind them, slipping out of Dina’s grasp to pile things against it. “Help me with this?” She asks, putting all of her weight behind moving a solid table in front of the door.

Dina doesn’t move, watching as Ellie successfully moves the table, stacking more furniture to barricade the smaller door before shifting her focus back to the main door.

Her eyes trace Ellie’s jaw line, the hair escaping her bun, the slope of her nose, the curve of her lips, the constellations of freckles she’d never be able to fully memorise.

“-okay? Dina? Dina!” Ellie pleads. “Are you listening?”

“I- yeah,” Dina says lamely, her thirst dry and her words quiet. Ellie’s eyes were the most beautiful shade of green she’d ever seen and she doesn’t know if she’s ever been able to tell her that.

“I need you to go, okay? You need to run. They’re just on this side for now and I can hold them off,” Ellie says, calm and resolute. There’s an edge behind her eyes that Dina’s never seen.

“I love you,” Dina says breathlessly, almost a whisper.

Ellie’s expression falters for a second before it becomes guarded once again.

“I never- I never got to tell you, I didn’t want to push too fast,” Dina says, stumbling over her words as they spill out of her, clinging to Ellie’s jacket. “But I do. I love you, as my best friend and more. I’m in love with you,” Dina continues, pressing herself against Ellie, her forehead against Ellie’s. “I don’t know for how long. You’re my favourite person, you’re wonderful and beautiful and kind and funny, and I love you.” The words rush out of her.

“Dina-”

“You’re so strong and so brave and I love you so much,” Dina says, the words are angry now and she smacks her fists against Ellie’s chest. “I love you so fucking much,” she sobs, hot tears streaming down her face.

“I’m so sorry, Dina,” Ellie says, acknowledging it finally. “I’m so sorry.” She clings to Dina in return, the embrace almost crushing.

The pounding grows louder.

“You have to go,” Ellie pleads. “I need you to go.”

“I can’t leave you,” Dina whimpers. “I can’t.”

“I’m already gone,” Ellie murmurs, the look in her eyes is indescribably and it only serves to make Dina cry harder.

“Ellie, no, please no,” Dina sobs, vision blurred by tears, heart lying somewhere near her feet.

“Go,” Ellie repeats solemnly. “Tell Joel and Tess that I love them, that I’m sorry, and that I’ll always be thankful for everything they’ve given me.” She cups Dina’s cheeks in her hands, looking at her searchingly.

Dina nods. “I promise,” she stammers.

“I love you too,” Ellie tells her, kissing Dina firmly. She squares her shoulders, the weight of the world bearing down on her. “I’ll hold them off,” she mutters, turning away. “It’s my turn.”

Dina barely catches her words, her heartbeat loud and punishing in her ears. She doesn’t move.

“Please, Dina,” Ellie pleads, looking back to her. “I’m already gone, just go, please!” Ellie pleads, the look in her eyes is indescribable and it only serves to make Dina cry harder.

“I love you,” Dina repeats brokenly, wiping at her face roughly. “I love you so much, forever.”

“I love you too,” Ellie replies.

Her words sound like an apology.

“Please go.”

So she does.  

[lilacyennefer]

a winter's tale

Anon asked: “You’re gonna regret that, sweetheart” with Benny pls ❤️

A/N: I might got a little carried away, but I really love how this one turned out, and I hope you guys think the same. There's a lowkey Garrett easter egg hidden in there and I'm curious if anyone will know what is it 👀

TW: some smut

Growing up in the English countryside, one of your favourite things to do was going outside to a long walk when it was snowing, enjoying the beautiful snowy landscape. 

You missed this a lot when you moved to the States to study, you originally planned to stay for 2 years, but two years became 4 when you met Ben Miller. 

Oh, Benny Miller. 

Knowing Benny now, you’ve met with him in the most unlikely place to ever meet with someone like Ben, in a book shop. 

You loved to read, this was something what your grandmother, who raised you, taught you, to read as much as you can. So it was really common for you to spend days in bookstores, looking for something new to read. 

It was Saturday afternoon on a rainy day when you met with Ben. You were in the mentioned bookstore, flipping through a new fantasy novel what just came out when you sensed someone stepping next to you, and a second later that person started talking.

“Excuse me, Miss, sorry to bother you, could you please help me?” The tall man with bright blue eyes, and a baseball cap asked you in such a deep voice you swear you could feel it resonate in your bones. 

You smiled at him politely, telling him you’re not working here.

“I know, I just thought you could help me, you know. The staff being busy and all.” 

“This makes sense.” You nod. It really did.

“I’m Ben, by the way.” The tall stranger introduced himself.

“I’m Y/N. Nice to meet you, Ben!” You shake his hand “What are you looking for?”

“Something scientific. It will be for my older brother’s birthday.”

“I see. Well, let’s go and see what we can get for your brother.” You tell him, and you walk towards the science part of the bookstore. 

After choosing the right book for his brother, Will, you paid for your chosen book, and Ben paid for the birthday gift, and the two of you headed to a coffee shop. During your time in the bookstore, Ben asked you if you’d like to drink a coffee with him after this as his way of saying thank you. And of course, you said yes, not just because you loved coffee, especially in this weather, but you really liked Ben. He was charming and funny, and despite your first impression, he was really intelligent and actually nice. 

There was a lovely coffee shop nearby, and just like the bookstore, it was pretty empty when you arrived. 

“What would you like?” Ben asks you, and looks at you in a way what makes you melt. 

“A caramel latte please.” Ben nods.

“Take a seat, I’ll get our orders.”

You sit down in a boot, and just watch the people on the streets as the raindrops race down the window. 

After a little while, Ben sits down in front of you after he placed your coffee in front of you, immediately wrapping your hands around the warm liquid, warming your cold hand up. 

“I have a confession to make.” Ben says sheepishly.

“Oh?” You look at him seriously.

Ben licks his lips before he says anything, shiver runs down your spine, but this time not from the cold. 

“I actually asked you to help me because you’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.” His compliment surprises you, and you can feel yourself blush as you look down to your coffee.

“I figured.” You said in a small voice “The bookstore was almost empty so the stuff didn’t have a lot to do.” 

Ben smiles at you, and you think he has the most beautiful smile you’ve ever seen. You like it, you think, and you definitely like Ben. 

You spent hours in the coffee shop just talking. Conversation with Ben was easy, he talked about his life, he told you that he’s an MMA fighter who picks up all kinds of odd jobs between fights, but previously he was in the Special Forces. 

You told him about your life, that you grew up in England in the countryside, and that your grandmother raised you. 

This was 2 years ago, 2 years since you met Benny and since the two of you fell madly in love. 

Because, you were madly in love. 

That kind of love what’s written in the stars, the love poets and musicians wrote about, that passion what makes you do absolutely anything for your partner. 

And you think it’s beautiful. 

It’s beautiful how much you love each other. 

Ever since you arrived to the States, you didn’t go back home, and after 4 years you started missing it more than anything, and Benny knew this. Seeing you become sadder and sadder because you missed your home and your grandmother broke Benny’s heart, and he just had to do something about it. 

So, Benny picked up more jobs and more fights, so he could save money for the plane tickets so he could surprise you and travel home with you. 

Two weeks left until Christmas, and you’re sitting on the couch in your pjs, watching tv when Benny storms into the apartment the two of you share. 

“I finally got it!” He screamed, making you jump.

“Jesus, Benny, what the hell?” You turn towards him.

“I got it, Y/N!” He says excitedly. You get up from the couch and walk up to him.

“You got what?” Ben takes a deep breath to calm himself down. He really is like an excited puppy. 

“An early Christmas gift.” He explains “Y/N, I couldn’t watch you being so sad, I had to do something. So I worked harder than ever to be able to buy this, because who the fuck knew plane tickets were this expensive honestly, but I finally got it!” He hands you an envelope “Two plane tickets to England so you can go home to your grandma. And hopefully, you don’t mind me coming with you.” He says somehow nervously, watching your reaction. 

You open the envelope and see two plane tickets, to England and back, with your and Ben’s name on it. You feel a lump in your throat and you swallow hard, trying to keep your tears from falling, but you fail as emotions rush over you.

“Why are you crying? Did I fuck it up? Please say something!” Benny begs, and you look up at him.

“No, you big dummy! This is the most beautiful thing anyone ever did to me!” You wrap your arms around him, pulling him close as you cry from the happiness.

“You really did this for me? Letting people beat you stupid just I could go home?”

“Hey, I won almost all of those fights, otherwise I wouldn’t have the tickets now.” 

You always said that Benny was a dummy with a heart of gold, he wasn’t the sharpest, but the way how he loved and how he’d do absolutely anything for you made up for it. 

“Thank you.” You sob “Just thank you. You have no idea how much this means to me.”

You’re still hugging Benny, and he leans down to place a tender kiss on your forehead.

“I’d do anything to make you happy.”

“I know.” You look up at him, chin resting on his chest “But you should’ve spent all this money on yourself.”

Ben doesn't let you finish it as he starts speaking.

“I did this for you, and us. This makes me just us happy as it makes you. Seeing you happy makes me happy.” Another kiss on your forehead. 

“Besides, I want to meet with that grandma of yours who I heard so much about.” You let out a small laugh from Benny’s words.

During the time you’re together with Benny, you told him a lot about your grandma, and Benny has this idea that your grandmother is probably the coolest person ever. 

You told him how she was at Woodstock, and traveled around America in a hippy van when she was younger, knew some of the biggest icons of the Beat Generation, and after her adventures in America she returned to England where she met with your grandfather who she married after 2 weeks of knowing each other, then they went and traveled Europe as their honeymoon.

You told the stories you heard from your grandmother to Benny, who was in awe the whole time and he decided your grandma is the coolest person ever. 

“She’ll be really happy, I can’t wait for you to meet with her.” 

The next week, you were on your way to England with Benny by your side. You were actually nervous about the whole trip, especially about flying for many hours, but Benny made sure that you’re distracted or asleep, he even suggested to have sex in the small bathroom of the plane, and you gave him a look what silenced him for a little bit, but a few minutes later you leaned closer to him and whispered “Maybe on our way back.” and you winked at him. 

When you arrived at the airport, your grandmother was already waiting for you and Benny, and in the moment you saw her you started running towards her, jumping in her arms and hugging her. You spent minutes just hugging and telling each other how much you missed each other, and after you’re done, you finally introduced Benny to your grandma. Thankfully, your grandmother really loved Benny, and Benny really loved your grandmother, but they already had a small, not serious argument when Ben wanted to drive even though he didn’t know where your grandmother lived, or how to drive on the left side, and it took you a long time to convince him to give up.

“I know you love driving, Benny, but this is not the time.”

“Fine, fine.” he finally gave up and took his place in the backseat of the car, meanwhile you were by your grandmother’s side.

Your first few days were about relaxing and fighting jetlag, but after like the third day both of you were okay, and you finally could show Benny the small town you grew up in, you were walking hand in hand, drinking hot chocolate. 

The next week, just before Christmas, there was a huge snowstorm, making you all excited about the snow, and Benny was just as excited as you. 

The next morning after breakfast, your grandma went over to her friend, leaving you and Benny alone for the first time since you came to England. 

“Let’s go outside and play in the snow.” you say excitedly, and without hesitating, Benny agreed. So, you dressed up in warm clothes and you went outside to enjoy the snow, and you even built a snowman. 

“You look so fucking cute, all flushed.” you tell Benny. He indeed looked fucking cute how his cheeks and nose turned all rosey from the cold, a few snowflakes are sitting on his long lashes. 

“Is that so?” he murmurs in his deep voice as he pulled you closer by your hips. “I have an idea how to make you all flushed too.” Benny cooed before he leaned down to kiss you sweetly on the lips. 

“You have to catch me first.” you announce when you pull away and you start running away from Ben, but he’s close behind you. 

You hide behind a tree and squat down to collect some snow in your hands and quickly form a snowball, and when Benny is close enough to you, you throw the snowball at him, and you watch it land on his chest. 

You giggle when you see Benny’s stunned expression, but you start running again when he’s chasing you again, but this time, he caught you, lifting you up in his arms.

“You’re gonna regret that, sweetheart” Benny tells you as he carries you back to the house, you know he means it, but all you can do is giggle.

“I can’t wait.” you murmur, placing a hot kiss on his exposed neck, making him groan. 

When you’re back in the house, Benny puts you down and you kick your shoes off, and take your jacket and hat off while Benny does the same. 

You grab his hand and stand on your tiptoes to kiss him, hot and delicious, making your abdomen clench with want. 

“We should take a bath, since we’re both cold.” you whisper against his lips, and Benny’s face immediately breaks into a huge grin.

“Oh, yes, baby.” and he’s already pushing your body towards your room.

Benny and You always wanted to have sex in a bathtub, but you never had the chance to do it since none of your apartments had a bathtub, but the small bathroom in your room has one, although it’s equally small. 

“How are we gonna fit into this?” you ask Ben as you’re standing in the bathroom with him.

“We will make it work.” he mutters into your skin as his lips are all over your neck, kissing it tenderly. 

And just like that, Benny and you quickly undressed each other while the hot water was filling the bathtub, and the scent of your favourite bubble bath surrounds you.

When the tub is filled with water and bubbles for your liking, Ben helps you into the water, and you carefully sink down in the burning hot water, letting it relax your muscles and warm you up. You move a little bit, giving Ben some space so he can sit behind you. He carefully maneuvers his big body into the small bathtub what already has you in it, and some water. 

Somehow he managed to sit behind you, wrapping his strong arms around you.

“This is really nice.” Ben whispers into your ear, and you nod, agreeing. “But I know a way how this could be even more enjoyable.” He nips your earlobe the same time he brushes his hand over one of your breasts, taking your nipple between his fingers, and gently pulling it, making you moan. 

You pull away from him to turn around and sit in his lap, Benny immediately wrapping his arms around you, pulling you back close. 

“Please, love me.” you whisper against Ben’s lips, and you see him soften before you kiss him, slipping your tongue into his mouth, massaging. 

You sit like that for minutes, in the hot, bubbly water, tangled together as you make out until you don’t know where you end and where Benny starts.

Still kissing, you feel Benny sneak a hand between your hot bodies, finding your slit and running his long, agile fingers over your folds, making you moan as his fingers press against your clit, massaging it the way you like it. 

You break the kiss and press your forehead to Ben’s shoulders, meanwhile he peppers your shoulder, neck, and chest with soft, gentle kisses as his fingers are pleasuring you, touching you the way how he knows you love it.

“You’re so soaked.” he groans when his fingers are circling your opening before he pushes a finger inside of you, making you let out a whining sound. 

“Please, Ben. I need you.”

“You have me.” he whispers against your skin. 

You grab his hand what’s between your legs and gently pull it away as you lift your hips up just a tiny bit, so you can take his already hard cock in your hands and place it where you need him the most, then agonisingly slowly, you sink down on him, making both of you throw your head back with a moan. 

You just sit there, completely still as you let yourself adjust to his size, and when you’re finally feeling ready, you started rocking your hips against Ben’s. 

Your times with Ben were almost always fast and hard, let’s just say you were fucking most of the time, but not right now as you moved slowly together. 

This was about your hearts and souls connecting, but also about the pleasure of your bodies as you made love with each other. 

“Benny.” you moan into his neck, Ben’s arms tighten around you as you push yourself closer and closer to the edge until you shatter, and fall, pulsating, moaning Ben’s name. 

You slowly ride your orgasm out, panting against Ben’s skin while his hands are soothingly caress the skin on your back, his soft lips are pressing equally soft kisses where he can reach. 

When you feel like you caught your breath, you sit straight back up, but Benny’s lips never leave your skin as it goes lover and lover, until his mouth is on your breaths, taking one of you nipples into his mouth, sucking the sensitive nub, then circling it with his tongue. You sigh and close your eyes from the calming pleasure Ben is causing you as he lick and suck your sensitive nipples, you wrap your arms around his neck and face, leaning your head on the top of his, closing your eyes and just enjoy how soft Ben’s lips feel on your skin, and how good they make you feel, while his rock hard cock is still buried deep inside of you. 

“Hmmm, as much as I’m enjoying this, the water is getting cold.” you whisper, and Ben lets your nipple go.

Benny carefully lifts you off of him, making you wince from the sudden emptiness, and he stands up and steps out of the bathtub, wrapping a towel around his hips, and holding your fluffy towel out for you, and you get out of the tub, letting Ben wrap you up in the soft towel. 

Again, he’s wrapping his strong arms around you to pull you close, kissing you, making you melt.

“I should take care of you now.” you tell Ben. You don’t have to specify what you mean, he knows exactly.

“I’m not done with you yet.” he shakes his head, and he lifts you up in bridal style and carries you to the bed, gently placing you down on it. 

He takes the towel from your body and drops it on the floor, and he does the same with his, making your mouth water as he reveals his throbbing erection to you. He pulls you closer to the edge of the bed, spreading your legs for him as he kneels down in front of you, between your legs.

Benny peppers your inner thighs with tender kisses, moving closer to your core as he watches your chest rise and fall quicker as he gets closer to your soaked folds, and your breath hitches when he softly runs his tongue over your folds, carefully to not cause you any discomfort since you’re still sensitive from your orgasm.

So, he first just caresses your inner fold with his tongue, lapping your wetness, and dipping his tongue into your hole, curling it inside of you. 

Benny can read you like an open book, every move, every moan of you, he knows what he should do to give you the most pleasure he can, so he exactly knows when you’re ready for him to touch your clit, and when he finally does he makes your whole body shake, and moan his name. 

Still somehow sensitive from your orgasm, your legs shake violently every time Benny touches or sucks your clit, but gosh, it feels so sinfully good, and it doesn’t take you long until you fall over the edge again, and cum hard on Ben’s tongue. 

“Holy shit.” you mutter and Ben lets out a laugh.  

“Are you okay? Wanna take a break?” he asks you as he stands up, wrapping his hand around his cock, pumping.

You shake your head “No, I need your cock, Benny.” you say in your most seductive voice, and he answers with a groan. 

Ben steps between your legs, taking them in his hands and pushing them back until your knees touch the bed, leaving you wide open for him. 

“You’re so fucking beautiful. All wet and spread out for me.” he praises, making you even wetter than before. 

“Please, Benny.”

He doesn’t say anything as he places his cock against your opening, and with one fierce move, he’s back inside of you, not giving you time now to adjust, he starts moving hard and fast. 

With every move, every time Ben smashes his hips against yours, your tits are bouncing, to Benny’s pleasure. You know he has a hell of a view at you, he can see his cock disappear inside of you every time, and the same time he sees your tits moving and the pleasure written all over your face. 

“Ben!” you scream as the fire in your belly is growing stronger second by second, and after two earth shattering orgasm, your third one is approaching rapidly.

Benny groans loudly and he growls “Y/N, cum for me.” and your body obeyed him, as you came for the third time, harder than ever. 

You’re drowning in your own pleasure, your heart is pounding in your ears, but you can hear Ben letting out an animalistic groan before he pulls out of you, and pumps his dick a few times before he spills himself all over your stomach and chest, marking you as his. 

After he made sure every drop landen on your skin, he tiredly crashed down next to you on the bed. 

You take that small drop of cum on your chest and you make sure Benny is watching you when you take it to your mouth, licking his cum off of your finger.

“Fuck.” Benny groans as he saw every move of yours “You’re so good. So fucking good.” he praises, and you smile at him.

You carefully turn to place a kiss on his cheek before you get up and take one of the towels from the floor and wipe yourself clean. 

While Benny is watching you, he can’t stop thinking about how lucky he is to have you, the most wonderful woman he could ever wish for, and seeing you happy here, in your home, worth every fucking fight and suffering with shitty jobs. And little did you know that he not only bought the plane tickets, but there’s also a ring resting deep in his suitcase, waiting for Christmas Eve to ask you to marry him. And he can only hope you’ll say yes.

Tags: @innerpaperexpertcloud​ @agirllovespasta​ @lady-evans​ @oldstuffnewstuff​ @keithseabrook27​ @alexa-rae-dreamz​ @minnicelli​ @woahitslucyylu​ @de-profundis-ad-astra​ @mylifeliterally​ @happyhenners​

[justablobfish]

Holding out in a snowstorm together/Getting snowed in together

Day 15 of my Advent Calender. A new drabble or oneshot everyday until Christmas, following the Continent’s favourite found family and what they’re up to in the winter season. Based on this prompt list

Read on AO3

Day 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14

______

What a prick, Lambert thinks as he urges his horse to go faster. 

He has to hurry if he still wants to make it to Kaer Morhen before the mountain pass snows over. 

Who the fuck takes on a contract this close to the beginning of winter? You're supposed to find a safe place to hibernate, just like the monsters do. What point is there in tracking into the mountains and slaying a beast, that won't do anything but sleep for the next three months anyway? It'll still be there in spring, so why bother with it now? 

"It's good coin, Lambert," he can hear Aiden's voice echo in his head. 

What a moron. It's not his problem if Aiden wants to be stranded for the winter. Just because they did a few jobs together in the past couple of months Lambert doesn't owe him anything. 

Soon enough he's going to enjoy the hot springs and the crazy Cat can lie dead in a ditch for all he cares. 

It's not like Aiden had asked him to stay. Instead he'd given Lambert a choice; stay to help with the contract or head to Kaer Morhen. And Lambert had chosen the sensible option, thank you very much. 

Aiden had only shrugged and let him get on his way. 

That's the worst part of it. 

Why had he just accepted it? Why hadn't he asked Lambert to stay?

What an asshole. Lambert doesn't need him. 

Only when his horse whinnies in protest, does he realise that he's spurred her on to a gallop. He sighs and allows her to slow down and pick the pace herself. No point in taking his sour mood out on her, when Aiden is the target of his ire. 

He looks up to the sky to determine how much time he still has to make it to the place he can't quite call his home. And freezes. He’d been too busy being stuck in his own head and hadn’t noticed the weather changing. The wind has picked up and so has the soft snowfall, to the point that Lambert can’t actually see the sky anymore. If this keeps up, he’ll have a full blown blizzard on his hands soon.

There’s still enough time for Lambert to make it to the next town and find shelter. Aiden on the other hand is trailing the monster on the far side of the mountain range and won't even notice the storm until it's immediately upon him. 

But that's not his problem. Aiden hadn’t cared when Lambert left. Why should he care about Aiden's fate, then? 

"Fucking bastard," Lambert mumbles under his breath and turns his horse around. 

He still remembers what the Alderman said about the creature. It's not like he had paid attention or anything, but he was in the same room when Aiden had taken the contract. From the description it sounds a lot like a Yeti. Which means it must have a lair somewhere up in the mountains, a natural cave or cavern probably. 

The track up is risky and treacherous, Lambert remembers as much from when he hunted here in the height of summer. With the snow, it's going to be even worse, so he decides to leave his horse at the local inn's stables. It'll only hinder him in his search for the crazy Cat. 

Then he heads up the steep mountain path. 

The bad news is, the storm hits before he can find Aiden. 

The good news don't exist. Just like with every other goddamn thing in his life. 

Everything around him is white. He can barely see his own hand when he holds it in front of his face. The wind pulls on his clothes and pushes against him. More than once does he stumble over a loose rock and nearly falls down the steep cliff going down right next to the narrow path. 

There's no fucking way he'll be able to find anyone in these conditions. He might very well walk right past Aiden without seeing him. 

The smart thing to do would be to turn around and save his own hide. Aiden's a lost cause and it's his own fucking fault, anyway. 

Lambert presses on. 

The cold seems to seep into his bones and every step forward becomes a conscious effort. 

"Aiden!" he screams, but the wind tears the words from his lips and drowns them in the howling of the storm. 

Just one step in front of the other. Just a little further. Just a little bit more before he'll give up and turn back around. Just one more step. 

He barely notices when the path becomes wider. Nothing changes, except that he isn't in constant danger of falling over the edge anymore, even though the wind has become stronger still, and he barely manages to walk in a straight line. 

He almost doesn’t notice the flash of light somewhere diagonally in front of him, like a flash of fire that flares up and immediately extinguishes again. He thinks it's just a trick of his mind, at first. 

Then a large, looming shadow appears, seemingly out of nowhere, nothing but a dark outline against the contrast of the white snow swirling around him. 

Before Lambert's frozen brain can process that information, let alone attack, the shadow raises a giant paw and swipes down on something right in front of it. Lambert draws his sword and charges. 

Hidden by the storm he almost doesn't see the creature's other paw coming down on him. He throws himself into the snow at the last moment, rolls over the icy ground and comes back up standing in front of the creature's broad chest. 

Slowly, he looks up at the face hovering above him. This close he can make out more details than just a vague outline. Small beady eyes glare down at him. 

The creature draws the blackened flesh of its lip back into a snarl, revealing a giant maw full of razor sharp teeth. Foul, rotten breath washes over Lambert despite the storm's best efforts. 

One of the horns protruding from the thing's ugly visage is broken off at the base, but the other still looks sturdy and, judging by the discoloration of dried blood at the top half it, pointy enough to gore right through a person. 

He takes a swipe at the creature's chest but his sword barely scrapes through the thick fur that covers its body. 

Black goo flows out of the shallow wound and closes it up immediately. 

Several more clumps of black ichor are matted into the thing's yellowed fur here and there and as the creature raises its thick paw once again, Lambert can see a severely cinched area on its elbow. 

Aiden has gotten a few hits in, then. It must've been him, who else would have created the Igni sign Lambert saw flaring up earlier? 

So where is the bastard? 

Lambert purposefully doesn't think too much about the bright red color that’s covering the dagger-like claws of the monster and dyeing its fur a crimson hue. 

He dodges again and hacks at the burnt elbow, but other than making the creature angry, it doesn't seem to have much of an effect. 

He'll have to find a weak spot on that damn thing, and fast. He can already feel his limbs growing heavy with the cold.

"Hey, ugly!" he taunts, but the wind tears his words away once again. He can only hear the raging of the storm around him. Or maybe that's just the sound of his pounding heartbeat. 

He'll have to attack somewhere that isn't covered in fur, which means he'll have to get up close and personal with the bastard. 

Lambert draws a sigil into the snow with the tip of his sword. This time when the creature paws at him, he doesn't roll out the way, simply jumps backwards a bit. The claws get caught in his Yrden sign and the creature furiously tries to pull free. 

Lambert can feel his magic weaken already from the sheer force of the monster, but it should hold long enough for his purposes. He jumps on top of the creature's wrist and runs up the arm as fast as he can while dodging below a swipe from the other claw. 

As he reaches the shoulder, the monster swats at him like he's a bothersome mosquito. Lambert jumps before he can be flattened under the giant limb. 

He grabs onto the first thing that comes into reach and a moment later he's dangling from the intact horn. 

Not quite according to plan. And he lost his sword in an effort not to fall to his death. But he can work with this. He's been in worse situations. 

The creature opens its maw in an angry roar and throws its head to the side to shake Lambert off. 

Perfect. As he loses his grip on the horn, Lambert forms both his hands into the sign for Igni and aims at the exposed inside of the creature's throat. 

There's no time to check if he hit his mark. His next sign, Quen, flickers to life a split-second before he hits the ground hard. 

His groan as he scrambles to his feet is swallowed by the raging storm. As are his calls for Aiden. Where is the fucking Cat? The only thing he can see is the giant heap of monster fur a few feet away. It's not moving. At least that. 

Lambert stumbles to what he thinks is the spot where he saw the monster attacking Aiden earlier. He drops to his knees and frantically rifles through the snow. 

Finally, his hand brushes against something solid. He pushes more snow aside until Aiden's face comes into view. Thick snowflakes hang on his lashes and his lips have taken on a blue tint, but his chest still rises in irregular intervals. 

Aiden doesn't react when Lambert shakes him. The snow underneath him is soaked red, but with the snow constantly blowing into his face Lambert can't make out where Aiden is wounded. They'll have to find shelter. 

He drapes Aiden's arm over his shoulder and grabs him around the waist. Aiden hangs by his side like a sack of potatoes, still not stirring in the slightest. 

Lambert looks around and realizes that he has no idea anymore which way he came from. Everywhere around him is the same unforgiving white. 

He picks a direction at random and drags Aiden along with him. With his luck he'll most likely just fall over the edge of the mountain path and kill them both, but staying put isn't an option either. 

Just one step after the other. Just keep pushing forward. 

His grip on Aiden becomes slippery after a while. He rearranges the weight and tries not to think about how much blood he must have already lost. 

One more step. And another. He can do this. Just one more step. No matter how much his knees want to buckle underneath him. No matter how much he wants to give up and just become part of the ever-present snow. Just one more step. 

The storm cuts off abruptly and Lambert's ears ring from the sudden lack of deafening noise. It takes an insane effort to look up. Around him is grey stone, the inside of a cave. The color of the rock seems to be the most vibrant thing he's ever seen compared to all the snow outside. 

Tufts of white-ish fur stick to the walls here and there and there's a small pile of bones stacked in the far corner. He must have stumbled upon the monster's lair by accident. 

He drags Aiden's lifeless body a little further inside before he drops him carelessly to the ground and falls to his knees next to him. 

It's still bitterly cold in the cave but at least they're mostly protected from the biting winds here. 

He leans down next to Aiden and finally manages to make out the wound. The monster's claws have cut deeply into his shoulder and scratched over his chest. Blood oozes out of it sluggishly. The cold has probably kept him from dying of blood loss so far, but that won't help him survive if he freezes to death instead. 

Lambert drops his bag to the floor and takes out his medical equipment, then goes about stitching the wound up and wrapping it in bandages. 

A red spot immediately forms on the wound dressings around the deepest part of the gash. He's not certain that Aiden will heal fast enough, even with his enhanced Witcher abilities. Despite Lambert's best efforts, Aiden might not make it through the night. 

"If you die on me, after all this trouble I went through," he threatens, "I will drag you out of hell and kick your ass right back to oblivion." 

The only response Lambert gets is that his own teeth start to chatter. 

He'll have to do something against the cold. Good thing he still has some Summer's Kiss potions with him. That'll warm them until the stupid storm is over and they can head back to the village. 

He rifles through his bag once more and pulls out one of the flasks with the bright orange liquid inside. 

Then he goes searching for the other. His fist closes around the neck of the bottle and his hand shoots upwards. 

Something's wrong. The potion is too light. 

He examines what he produced from his bag. Below his fist the bottle neck ends in sharp edges. 

Broken. The second bottle broke and leaked the potion into his bag. 

It must have happened when he dodged the monster's attacks and rolled over the frozen ground to regain his balance. 

Lambert stares at the sad piece in his hand for a full minute, as if the concoction would magically reappear if he only waited long enough. 

Finally, he curses and throws the shard away before carefully turning his bag inside out. A few more bottles are broken and he's left with two Cats and some Black Blood. Nothing that will even remotely help him in this situation. Then again, he already knew that he only had two Summer's Kiss left. 

He grabs the intact potion and turns back to Aiden. His face is sickly pale and his lips are more purple than blue now. He's close to freezing to death. 

Lambert kneels down and pulls Aiden's head into his lap. Then he feeds him the potion, bit by bit. 

That's all he can do for now, though. There's no fire wood or anything else to maintain a flame and going back out into the storm is definitely out of the question. It's a miracle he found the cave in the first place, he'll never make it back in the blizzard. 

So he sits down with crossed legs and watches the slow rise and fall of Aiden's chest. 

Lambert usually struggles with meditation, but today, for some reason, his mind drifts away momentarily. It's just so much easier not to move anymore. To just let his aching limbs rest… 

"… bert…" 

"...leave me…"

"Lambert, wake up!" 

"Woah!" 

Lambert tears his eyes open, breaking the thin layer of frost that has formed on them. The first thing he sees once his eyes adjust to the dim light is Aiden staring back at him. 

He's still lying on the ground where Lambert left him, arm reached out in his direction, and his face is still far too pale for Lambert's liking, but he's awake. That's more than Lambert could have hoped for. 

"N-n-n-no need to yell at me," he snaps back, his chattering teeth taking away the edge of his annoyance. "W-w-what do you want? Go back to s-sleep". 

The storm is still raging outside but now there's even less sunlight coming through. It must be getting close to dusk. How long was he out for? 

He should definitely check on Aiden's bandages, see if he needs to redo them. But the idea of moving seems like such an enormous effort. He'll just rest for another five minutes. Yeah, that's a good plan. His eyes slowly drop closed again. 

"Lambert! Stay with me you idiot!" Aiden snarls. 

"What?" Lambert shouts back. "L-leave me alone!" 

He opens his eyes once more and watches a number of different emotions pass over Aiden's face, too quick to follow. He'd almost say there's concern in the mix, but that would be silly. He's not the one who almost bled out today. 

"Lambert," Aiden repeats, now in a whiny tone. He still manages to sound teasing, though. 

"What d-do you want, Cat?" Lambert grunts, annoyed. 

"I'm cold," he replies with a pout. 

"You have got to be k-kidding me," Lambert deadpans. "I gave you a p-potion!" 

"Must be some weak ass shit you brewed together if I'm already freezing again," Aiden grins. 

"W-weak?" he huffs in indignation and jumps to his feet. "Ungrateful piece of shit! And what do you want m-me to do about it?" 

"Come cuddle with me!" Aiden demands and bats his eyelashes. 

"H-hell no!" Lambert returns and crosses his arms over his chest. "I don't cuddle." 

"But I'm oh so c-c-cold," Aiden taunts, his smirk growing wider. "Don't you want to keep me from freezing?" 

"Urgh," Lambert groans as he drops down next to Aiden, who wraps his uninjured arm around his waist and pulls him closer. 

"How can you be cold?" Lambert complains. "You're like a furnace! My potion is working fine!" 

"Stop wiggling!" Aiden orders. "You're such a baby!" 

"My legs are tingling," he snaps back. "You try to hold still after your legs fall asleep!" 

"Thank the gods," Aiden mumbles under his breath. 

"What?" Lambert huffs. 

"Nothing," Aiden sighs. "Just stay close, alright?" 

"This never happened," Lambert bites back. "He's cold, he says. Needy bastard." 

Soon enough, sleep overcomes him. There's little to do but wait, after all, and the warm weight at his back is far more comforting than he'd ever admit. 

When he wakes up next there's bright, unfiltered light shining in from the entrance of the cave. The storm has passed over night. 

The weight of an arm draped over his waist is gone, though. Alarmed, Lambert sits up. 

Aiden is kneeling in the far corner of the room, re-bandaging his wound. 

"Morning, sunshine," he greets with his ever-present smirk. "Missing my sweet embrace already?" 

"Fuck off," Lambert growls and gets up to stretch his aching limbs. 

"What happened to the monster, by the way?" Aiden prompts conversationally. "The Alderman wants proof of death or he won't pay." 

"Are you insane?" Lambert yells, his patience finally gone for good. "Why are you so obsessed with this? You nearly died and for what? You could've just waited till spring! Nobody takes a contract that late in the year!" 

"Nobody survives the winter with an empty purse," Aiden returns, suddenly serious and without looking up from where he's packing Lambert's medical kit back together. "There's no place to stay for a Cat. Not like you have." 

Lambert just gapes at him, open mouth and all. 

"You risked your life because you're broke?" he manages finally. "Why didn't you say something?" 

Aiden is still not looking at him. He's done packing the little medical bag, but he's fidgeting with the buttons. 

"Careful now, Wolf," Aiden teases. "One could almost get the idea that you care about me." 

"Certainly not," Lambert huffs. "Anyway, next year you're coming with me to Kaer Morhen. I'm not running after your sorry ass again!"

[faofinn]

Ok, Who Had Natural Disasters On Their 2020 Bingo Card? - Whumptober Day 27

@whumptober2020

Christmas was, unsurprisingly, one of Finn’s favourite times of year. Alongside the food and social side of it - Fao had often managed to get leave - there was also the childish excitement of presents. The fact it was his birthday only made things better.

They often stayed at Fao’s house, the brothers going down a few days before to get things set up before their parents joined. Finn loved it, time alone with his brother was a rarity (not that he resented Jess or Ely’s presence) and having the place to themselves was just an added bonus. Despite the whole place and multiple bedrooms, Finn still ended up in Fao’s bed, often dragging his duvet in before they’d even unpacked.

It had been a cold winter, the snow already lying a few inches on the ground. Sleet and hail had battered them as they’d driven down, ominous and foreboding. Inside though, they’d soon started a fire, getting it set up and roaring as they waited for the house to warm up.

They’d had an easy night, the pair only heading to bed in the early hours of the morning. As usual, they’d snuggled together, Finn’s curled into Fao’s side and watching the flurry of snow out of the window. The wind hadn’t let up, howling as it battered the house, almost rattling the windows.

Fao fell asleep first, exhausted and more than slightly tipsy. Finn stayed awake for a little longer, letting Fao’s heartbeat softly lull him to sleep, trying to focus on that instead of the storm outside. It took a while, but eventually followed, arm draped over Fao’s chest and tucked under Fao’s duvet.

When morning broke and Fao’s alarm rang out, neither brother moved. There was an uninviting chill to the air outside of their duvets and both snuggled closer.

“Mornin’.” Fao’s voice was still rough with sleep and he cleared his throat. “Sleep well?”

Morning.” Finn echoed. “‘s cold.”

“Yeah? You’ve got all the blankets.”

Finn grinned sleepily. “Yeah.”

“You’re always cold. Spare a thought for poor old me and my ancient bones.”

“Yeah.” Finn pulled the duvets closer. “At least you admit you’re ancient.”

“Am compared to you.”

He laughed. “Nah, just ancient.”

“Sure, sure.”

"True."

“Can we stay here all day? I don’t wanna move.”

“Neither do I. I just want to stay snugged.”

“Yeah. When’s Mum coming up?”

“We’ve got a few days.”

“Don’t have to move then.”

"We have to get the house sorted. And I want to make a snowman."

“You'll freeze your balls off.”

“I’m not going to be naked.”

“You're always cold.”

"Indoor snowman?" Finn joked, pushing his hair out of his face. "Are you gonna go make breakfast?"

Fao huffed. “Whilst you stay all warm in bed?”

"Yeah. Go on." He wriggled, pulling his knees up and pressing his feet to Fao's back.

Fao yelped, but dragged himself out of bed, throwing on a hoodie. It was absolutely freezing, which had been fine under the duvet and blankets but not now he was up. He slunk off to throw something together for breakfast, using the opportunity for a smoke. He didn't make it fully outside, but he at least had the back door somewhat open. Tomas and his dad had smoked in the house, so he wasn't exactly bothered by it, but he doubted Finn would appreciate it. He made tea and started on pancakes, and called up the stairs to his brother. 

“Finn! I've made tea and I'm about to cook pancakes. Get your fat arse down here!”

Oddly enough, there was no response. Usually Finn was all too eager for food, claiming he was still growing even in his early twenties. Everyone had doubted that, but when he'd suddenly shot up and grew several inches, he took them all by surprise. 

Even asleep, Fao's calls would usually rouse him, especially when it promised food.

The silence really did worry him, and Fao took the pan off of the heat before he headed upstairs, fearing the worst. He hoped Finn had just fallen asleep and hadn't heard him - the house was big, after all - but there was always the other possibility. 

Of course, things couldn't be simple. Finn was buried under the duvets and posturing. He wasn't breathing.

“Fuck.” Fao muttered, dragging the duvet back. “Finn?”

His younger brother groaned slightly, his muscles contracting and staying tense.

Fao rushed closer, kneeling on the bed beside him. He clearly wasn’t breathing, body tense and stuck. He swore under his breath, half English half Gaelic, and hurriedly looked for Finn’s meds. The blister pack in the bedside drawer was empty and he had no idea where Finn had put his supply. 

He tried to check his phone too, and of course there was no signal. Stupid fucking countryside. Weather didn’t help either. 

“Fuck’s sake Finn, you never bloody make things easy, do you?” He swore at his brother. Where were his bags? He’d probably buried his meds in there. But did he have time? It was that or nothing. He had barely any kit anyway, they were fucked without hospital. And especially fucked without midaz. 

He finally found Finn’s stuff, and his meds. Thankful the packet was full, he fumbled to get the dose out. It hurt him to see Finn like this, it wasn’t fair. Nothing had set him off, nothing had changed. 

His midaz didn't change anything, Finn continuing to seize despite them. Sweat collected on his brow and there was a blue tint to his lips as he forced his head back into the bed. He couldn't keep it up much longer.

Fao swore again. He'd not even shown a flicker of resolving, just as tense and slipping into cyanosis. He grabbed a second dose of midaz and gave it, though he knew he shouldn't. He had no other choice, Finn wasn't breathing anyway. What harm was it going to do? Couldn't exactly make things worse. He needed far more resources than he had. And he needed to not be in a freezing cold house in the middle of a snowstorm. 

The second dose finally did something, Finn's body finally relaxing and his chest able to rise and fall. It took a moment for him to breathe, exhausted and sore. He still wasn't with it, his body barely functioning anyway, but he continued to breathe heavily, trying to resolve his hypoxia. 

Finn wasn't the only one breathing heavily. Absolute relief washed over Fao as his brother took that first proper breath, and he sat there for a good few minutes with his hand on Finn's chest, feeling the rise and fall. 

It occurred to him then that Finn's phone might have service. He was reluctant to move, but he could see it on the other bedside table, and scrambled up to get it. One tiny bar. It was enough, it had to be. 

Hands shaking with adrenaline, he called for help. But the weather was getting worse, and he had no idea if they'd be able to get to them. 

"Emergency. Which service?"

“Ambulance.”

"Ambulance. Is the patient breathing?"

Fao was back with Finn on the bed, his free hand on his chest once again. “He is now.”

"Is the patient conscious?"

“No.” Fao took a slow, deep breath, trying to fight the rising fear. 

"Okay. What's your address?"

Fao gave it. “He’s had a bad seizure, wasn’t breathing for a decent amount of time. He’s had to have a double dose of midazolam just to stop it. I’m a doctor but he needs a hospital.”

“Okay, I’ve arranged an ambulance, help is on its way. He is breathing now, right? I need you to keep an eye on that and let me know if anything changes.”

“He’s breathing.”

“That’s good. Does he have seizures normally? Is he epileptic?”

“He is, but this was worse than his normal.”

“Alright, thank you. How long was this seizure?”

“I didn’t see it start. He looked like he’d been going for a while, so I gave the first midaz after a minute. It was a lot worse than normal, and the midaz didn’t make any difference at all, so I gave him another minute or so and gave the second dose.”

“So he’s had two doses of his midaz? And he would only normally have one?”

“Yeah. The two is his ‘worst-case scenario’ plan.”

"And the second dose has helped?"

“Yeah.”

“Good. Keep an eye on his breathing for me."

“I am doing.”

"That's good. You're doing really well. The ambulance is on its way, but the roads are very dangerous right now so they may take a little longer."

“Yeah, I guessed as much."

"Sorry, we are trying our best."

“No, it's okay. We're pretty rural, that weather’s shit.”

"Yeah, the service isn't too great either."

The line crackled and Fao gritted his teeth. “Yeah, I-” The phone cut out and he swore. Had the signal cut out? Pulling it back from his ear, he realised the phone had died. Fucking Finn and his inability to charge his phone. Fao nearly threw it across the room, frustrated. Now they were even more fucked. He moved to plug it in, and then the lights flickered and died. 

Fucking power was out. 

He went back to his brother, moved him into his lap and stroked through his hair. “I've got you, Finn. You're okay.”

Finn made a quiet noise, lip turning up in a slight smile. He liked the contact, registering somewhere deep down, and Fao was warm against his back.

“That's it, I've got you.”

He was already gone, breathing for himself but exhausted. His breathing had started to even out, though there was a tinge to his lips.

Fao let him rest. He wasn’t anywhere close to out of the woods, but he was breathing for himself and seemed to be relatively stable, despite the double dose of midaz. He leaned back against the headboard of the bed, his jaw tense. How the hell were they going to get out of this one?

Finn stretched out, screwing his face up. Everything hurt and he wasn't sure why. He fidgeted with his feet, rubbing his fluffy socks together.

There was a brief flash of panic in Fao as Finn stretched out, his back arching, before he realised it really was just a stretch. Sighing heavily, he rubbed his arm. “Hey, you’re alright.”

He fought against the heaviness, forcing his eyes open. Fao. A lazy smile graced his face as he let his eyes close again, relaxing against Fao.

“That’s it, get some rest. I’ve got you.”

 Content, Finn let himself sleep again (not that he had much choice). The bed was comfy enough despite his aches, and the drugs only helped lure him under. 

With the power out, the heating wasn’t working properly. The room began to chill off quickly, and Fao shivered. He knew he couldn’t leave Finn, just in case, and so had to make do with the heavy blankets on the bed. It wasn’t perfect, and in an ideal world he’d get the fire going again, but Finn was far too heavy and content in his lap. 

Finn protested at the weight, trying to wriggle out and crying out as he moved. It was cold, and the weight on him was only colder. He pressed closer to his brother, his pjs damp and sticking to him.

“Hey, it’s to keep you warm, you daft shite.” Fao said good naturedly. “Give it a minute, you'll warm up.”

He didn't want it. Why didn't Fao understand? He kicked out, twisting away from it.

“Alright, alright. No blankets? Fine. I'll keep them for me.” He grumbled, draping it over his shoulders instead. “You can freeze.”

Without the attention, he quickly lost his fight, mainly forgetting what he'd been fighting against. He shuffled about a little as he struggled to find a comfortable position. 

“Just try and sleep, you're okay.”

Finn slept until he woke himself shivering. His eyes flicked around the room, trying desperately to focus.

“It's okay, you're okay. Just cold, let's get you warm.” Fao murmured, draping the blanket from his shoulders over his brother. “That's better, hmm?”

He frowned, trying to push it away. He wanted Fao, not his blanket. 

“It's to keep you warm, Finn.”

"No."

“Yeah, just a blanket.”

He groaned, pushing it off. Nothing was focusing or falling into place and the panic only rose. 

"Off."

“You’re alright, it’s okay.” Fao reassured. 

How could it be alright? His face screwed up as tears fell, clumsily raising a hand to scrub at his eyes.

“Hey, hey. You’re okay Finn, I’ve got you.”

“Cold.”

“Yeah, I’ve got a blanket here for you?”

“No. You.” Finn finally looked at Fao, frowning. 

“I’m here, yeah.”

A small smile made its way to his lips. “Hug?”

“Hug and blanket, yeah?”

“You.” He murmured sleepily, trying to push himself up onto Fao.

Fao wrapped his arms around him, aware his brother was freezing cold. With no power and the weather getting worse, he had no idea how long they were going to be stuck. Finn needed a hospital, but now the phone had died who knew how long it would take for an ambulance. If they even got one at all. 

[naomignome]

First Lines meme

Tagged by the inimitable @forbiddenfantasies1

Rules: List the first lines of your last 20 stories (if you have less than 20, just list them all!). See if there are any patterns. Choose your favourite opening line. Then tag 10 authors!

I think I have...14? 

1)  “You know, for the Lord of Storm’s End, you’ve got terrible security.” (My only Gendrya fic)

2) “Tyrion,” the Stark matriarch might’ve hailed from the Riverlands, but her blue eyes were as cold as the North she married into. (My Leverage AU LOL Tyrion was my stand in for Nate which I think showed how much I hated Nate lmao).

3) The bell above chimed quietly, as the red door swung open slowly. (unzip the back (to watch it fall) tailor!Jaime AU)

4) The Blackwater Bar was known for two things: strippers and shots. (Bronn Blackwater: Second-Best-Man-In-Command HAHA my first ever attempt at humor; it’s a little over the top lol and dedicated to my favorite discord server) .

5) Brienne stepped into Ms. Cat’s first grade classroom on the second floor slightly out of breath, with little Podrick in tow looking like he could barely breathe from climbing all the steps. (as the bells ring-- lol KIDFIC looking at it now, it really should have stayed as a oneshot).

6)  Brienne wondered what led to this. (dying is easy (living is harder) haha my first and unfinished attempt at candiv where Brienne loses her hand instead of Jaime; I’m fixing it and continuing but who knows when that’ll be)

7) Catelyn Lannister of Tarth ran her fork through a potato, viciously and without mercy. (touchin’ the stars (then draggin’ them down to earth) ANOTHER kidfic. this is just fun--there’s a sequel in my wips lol)

8) The first time they meet, they’re not even on the same side. (My spies fic -- there’s also a sequel to this in my WIPs)

9)  From Brienne’s other side, Hyle heard Lannister mutter, “This team building exercise is just an excuse for Catelyn to bring her kids to the zoo.” (The Riverlands Gang Go to the Zoo--I had so much fun with this one. It is also over the top) 

10)  “I hate the cold.” Jaime murmured into the nape of his mother’s neck. (A Winter Wish)

11)  All curses start out as blessings.(My Narcissus/ Echo AU that I somehow always forget I wrote. I felt possessed writing it lol)

12) ”We would like to stress now the importance of staying inside and waiting out what weather maester’s are now calling the worst snowstorm Westeros has seen in a century. Some locals are calling it The Long Night--” (A Long Night--this was fun---I cut like 2,000 words of it because I couldn’t edit it the way I wanted to--so maybe a prequel sequel will go up one day LOL)

13)  It was certainly a scene to be had, Brienne thought dully, sitting in this diner with the most beautiful traitor in Westeros, a teenager, and a grumkin.  (i’ve got your face (hung up high in a gallery) Marriage of convenience fic)

14) Wave after wave the dead come. (there’s a piece of you (in how I dress) Pod dies fic)

Patterns: Short sentences? Maybe? Or dialogue? I don’t know; a personal pattern for me is that all the opening sentences are usually thought up while I’m washing dishes. 

Favorites: 8? I think. The opener to the spies fic is my favorite one that I’ve written--so I think the first line probably feeds into that. 

If you’ve read this far, you’re tagged. UHHH but I’ll just tag the usual suspects knowing that they’ve been tagged before @ajoblotofjunk @eryiscrye @unadulteratedkr @ceruleanphoenix7 @virareve