#snowpiercer: season 1

[aflawedfashion]

Snowpiercer 1x06 / 2x01

[onetrainscifi]

"Snowpiercer season 4 has gone too woke" literally what are you talking about. What the fuck are you talking about. Do you even know what words mean.

[igotthecharnelhouse]

"I’m still a brakeman, Josie. I still have a duty to this train. We have a duty to each other, and to the workers, and to the weakest among us. There’s no future without it, Bess. You just have to decide what’s right and wrong. Doesn’t matter what the consequences are for you."

Snowpiercer, Season 1 Episode 7

[bookqueenrules]

DD Season 3 start of filming delayed until mid August?? They will be filming in Madrid. Source X

The evidence is getting to be too much!!

Emily is in Europe for months this Spring (I believe filming early for season 3). DD Season 1 was filming certain scenes well before its October 2022 publicized starting date for filming.

Norman starts publicizing EVERYWHERE that DD season 2 episode 6 is the best hour of TWD EVER. (Curiously, when asked her favorite episode, MMB said she really liked episodes 4 and 5.)

AMC pushes DD2 back two months when they buy Snowpiercer.

Emily decides to go the Manchester con only after most of the other actors were set to attend.

Emily posts that she is rerecording at least one of the songs she sang a decade ago in TWD.

Now, the news that they moved production back two months?(I believe because they are worried about keeping Emily/Beth in Season 3 a secret before Beth is revealed alive at the end of Season 2)

Yep, I just might agree with Norman about DD2 episode 6 if Beth is revealed alive!

[dwcmarshalarts]

I adore your style and content - I’m considering doing masters studies of some of your pieces just to try it out, but I’m still fairly new to art. I was curious if there’s any part of your process or any particular advice you’d have?

Gave this answer before to someone who asked me the same question, and I think it still counts! 1) Build stamina. You can do this by drawing often- and with intention. Start your drawing with a warm up- something light, not overly serious. Focus more on the literal mechanical feeling of your hand moving to draw. Then focus on the heavier stuff after you’ve both literally and mentally warmed up, setting the stage for more involved drawing. Make this a routine and drawing overall will be less tiring over time.

2) Focus on replicability, not detail. This goes hand in hand with the previous point. A lot of people develop a kind of perfectionism early on, where they get overly attached to a specific sketch and don’t wanna budge from it, and put details until it “looks good,” even when the subject as a whole is wonky. I like to equate this to “too much icing, not enough cake,” or “building on sand foundations.” I’ve been there before, and it can hold you back. Instead of focusing on a specific piece and how you rendered it that one time, focus on how you render it such that you could do something similar, easily replicate the concept. Once you’ve built more stamina, you can open up the gates to tackling the same subject matter in different ways.

3) Mind your mark making. Some folks agonize over the tiniest detail, sometimes for hours. At the end of the day, that itself doesn’t necessarily bring improvement- that’s more of a test of patience. Unless someone specifically asks, you don’t- for example- need to draw every single ridge of every knob on a switchboard in great detail. These things can be implied through mark making. Remember, a lot of drawing isn’t about literally making something for people to see- it’s tricking the eye into believing what’s drawn is actually there. You’ll be amazed at what detail can be like even when you don’t define every part.

4) Drawing is more seeing than “making it up.” * Don’t be afraid to use references and such. It’ll help you render form than imagining it- sometimes the imagination can conjure things incorrectly. *Even seasoned artists who don’t typically use too much references need to do studies from life or books every now and then to reinforce skills.

One point I didn't add before for style things specifically is: 5) Look where the artist got their inspirations from if you want to learn from them. No art exists within a vaccuum, everyone has their influences. Trying to do a study from someone's art will only take you so far- because then it'll feel more like mimicry than actual, learned study. Research or try to see parallels with artists that you might think had a hand in influencing a given artist's style. Notice the patterns there- certain textures are invoked here, this form was defined like this, etc. A lot of folks confuse wanting "more of a thing" as opposed to "what makes that thing desirable/unique." If you'd like to know where some of my influences come from, I'd say look at the works of Squiddy, covers for Hellboy comics, and the Snowpiercer graphic novel.

Addendum: If you're looking to draw anatomy specifically- study from real anatomy, and learn how to do those before you begin to "break the rules" (exaggerate, anthropomorphize, etc). For resources on that, I'd recommend the Morpho books (all of them haha) and Dynamic Human Anatomy by Roberto Osti.

Hope this helps somewhat, feel free to ask if I missed anything.

[lifessoshortandsoami]

Spring Day

Outfit & Hairstyle

Identification: RM, Jin, SUGA, jhope, Jimin, V, Jung Kook, Luna

[Verse 1: RM]

I miss you

Saying this makes me miss you even more

I miss you

Even though I'm looking at your photo

Time's so cruel, I hate us

Seeing each other is now more difficult

It's all winter here, even in August

My heart is running on time, alone on the Snowpiercer

I want to go to the other side of Earth, holding your hand to put an end to this winter

How much should my longings fall like snow

Before the days of spring return, friend?

[Pre-Chorus: Jimin, V]

Like the tiny dust, tiny dust floating in the air

If I were the blowing snow, wouldn't it be able to reach you a little faster?

[Chorus: Jung Kook & j-hope, Luna, V & j-hope]

The snowflakes are falling and moving away little by little

I miss you (I miss you)

I miss you (I miss you)

How long do I have to wait and how many more nights do I have to stay up?

To see you? (To see you)

To meet you? (To meet you, ooh-ooh-ooh)

[Post-Chorus: Jung Kook & j-hope, Jung Kook]

After the cold winter ends

Until the spring day comes again

Until the flowers bloom again

Please stay, please stay there a little longer

[Verse 2: Suga, Luna]

Is it you who changed? (Is it you who changed)

Or is it me? (Or is it me)

I hate this moment, this time flowing by

We've changed, you know?

Just like everyone, you know?

Yes, I hate you, you left me

But I never stopped thinking about you, not even a day

I miss you, honestly, but I'll erase you

'Cause it hurts less than to blame you

[Pre-Chorus: Jin, Jimin]

I try to exhale you in pain, like smoke, like white smoke

Even if I erase you with words, in reality I still can’t let you go

[Chorus: Jung Kook & j-hope, Jung Kook, V & j-hope]

The snowflakes are falling and moving away little by little

I miss you (I miss you)

I miss you (I miss you)

How long do I have to wait and how many more nights do I have to stay up?

To see you? (To see you)

To meet you? (To meet you, ah-ah-ah-ah, ah)

[Bridge: Luna]

You know it all, you're my best friend

The morning will come again

No darkness, no season can last forever

[Chorus: Jimin & j-hope, Jung Kook, Luna]

Cherry blossoms seem to be blooming, this winter is coming to an end.

I miss you (I miss you, ah)

I miss you (I miss you, ah-ah-ah)

If you wait just a little bit (if you wait) if you stay up a few more nights

I'll be there to see you (I'll go there to meet you)

I'll come for you (I'll come for you, yeah, eh-eh, yeah, yeah)

[Post-Chorus: Jin & j-hope, Jin]

After the cold winter ends

Until the spring day comes again

Until the flowers bloom again

Stay there a little longer, stay there a little longer

[wedonthavemuchtime]

Snowpiercer (season 4, episode 1: Snakes in the Garden) / 2024 — IMDb, TMDb

[aflawedfashion]

Bess & Audrey | Snowpiercer 1x05

[onetrainscifi]

OKAY SO

Everyone knows the International Peace Forces (IPF, the mouse head people) are the enemies in s4 correct

If you go rewatch 2x06. The logo on the log books is the IPF logo. We also know from one of the audition sides that our good friend Clark Gregg (as Commander Milius(?)) wants to have a word with our other good somehow still alive friend Melanie Cavill (or Megan Cunningham/Felony Havill) I guess.

Anyways my weather forecast for s4 is that the IPF went back to Breslauer after Mel left her note and shit and had her name and DNA and calendar and everything all over the station, caught up to Snowpiercer all these months later, and then said hey we wanna talk to Melanie Cavill

And that's why Melanie has a gun and also a deep desire to not only run away with Ben but also go underground.

[backstabkitty]

SnowPiercer S4 early reactions

Having watched the first episode of S4 I am filled with dread at how this is all going to end. Particularly for my favorite characters, Audrey and Bess. Early reviews say that there will be significant death of fan favorites and that certainly appears to be the case with episode 1. Reviews also praise Mickey's performance this season which tells me they are really going to put Bess through it. And given how Audrey starts the season, I worry she might not make it out of the season. If that is going to be the case I kind of wish Snowpiercer had ended with that S3 finale where they end up happy. I do not want to spend a final season watching them be separated for the majority of it and one or both of them dying.

We have waited so long for this final season to air so I'm going to stick it out to see how they wrap it up. Given how things have gone on this show IDK why I'm expecting ANY of these characters to get happy endings at this point but at least the end of S3 gave you hope only to snatch it away with that season opener. I'm probably asking for too much but I desperately want Audrey and Bess to have an optimistic future where they are both alive by the end. I'm so tired of tragic gay endings. We were just starting to move away from that.

Also, I'm so tired of Wilford. They could have let that man stay gone!

[sahara-solaris-solace]

Hydra FC Club General HeadCanons

An accurate definition of wild cards.

They are not malicious evil but are not merciful either.

Many players are from Australia, New Zealand, Hawaii, Columbia and Italy.

The club is supposed to originate from Australia but the shareholders and Coach Del Aqua originated from France so that's where the Floating Stadium takes place.

The players stipulation aside from knowing football, is good in ocean activities and sea lover.

Their diet and personal hygiene are two core rules by Coach Del Aqua and the players took those rules to their heart due to his strictness.

Liquido is the current player, such as Ninja from Cosmos FC that made his fame in Season 1 as during that time, Skipper is the star player for that season. Liquido worked hard and managed to garner his fame around Season 2.

All are laid back and surfer guys during off days.

They each have cabins like in Snowpiercer TV series ( Second Class Cabin ) in one corridor far away from the match and the visitors team so they won't be violated in privacy.

The crew and players have weekly meeting just for team building.

In the comics, One Super League Under the Sea, the players have some girls they hooked up for fun while watching TV in the lounge but in tv series, Coach Del Aqua forbid them to bring strangers in the living lounge as to prevent any robbery or intrusion so any hook ups or one night stands have to be done outside the stadium.

Most of them are single and childfree ( Thankfully 2000's era the topic of childfree being tackle and to prevent any unwanted neglected children that will turn to monsters ). I see possibly Skipper and White Ripples being taken as others prefer single.

They are all reluctant about Liquido leaving North stranded in the ocean in Season 3 episode so when North made it out alive, they decided Liquido's intention is too malicious so they no longer affiliated with Liquido's sly gesture, hence why Liquido being scolded without anyone in his defence in Season 5.

They taunt rival teams but purely for football rivalry. They draw line as they have heart and to avoid real conflict.

At night, they like to gather outside for stargazing with cokes and barbecue.

Since Liquido is the newest in the group, most of them are wary of his hyperactive vibe but soon became accustomed with his drive.

Most of them knew Liquido have a crush on North, not that he will admit it.

Coach Del Aqua and Ursula are basically in charge of the club with Ursula acted as a discreet Assistant Coach/ Manager to the club, as well as the brain cells of the club.

[analeasekittin]

MY SNOWPIERCER SEASON 4 REVIEW:

Soooo, I’ve watched the leaked season 4 of Snowpiercer… forgive my sin!

This is my review of the season, with no spoilers or major revelations.

REVIEW:

the season starts with a heavy focused on new eden, episode. the world building does feel a bit rushed, as we are in around 9 months - 1 year time jump and the world of new eden is already built in the season with no real build up to what’s been happening for the past year.

one thing, the early reviews of the season were right to say that certain characters won’t appear for the whole season. let me disappoint you, Jennifer Connelly is one of them.

the story this season in my opinion is both interesting and boring at the same time. It’s very focused on science and climate trials. some scenes, unfortunately most of them being in new eden, just didn’t interest me at all! though, the last 2 episodes of the season are action packed in very a satisfying way.

the early reviews were also right to say there’s quite a lot of death in the season. some characters do not make it alive to see the outcome of everything that’s happened in the season. some are fan’s favorites.

Also, the question we’ve all been waiting for the last 3 seasons is finally answered.

Who’s Alex’s dad?

surprisingly, it has an interesting story behind it, which i absolutely did not think about. also a really fucking weird and funny (?) scene related to it, which at the time of watching it I was like “wtf am i listening too lmao”.

This season is probably my second if not at battle for my most favorite season of Snowpiercer. Can’t believe it truly ended, or about to begin this Sunday, but the story must come to an end and their story ending is quite special.

SOME SNIPPETS WITH NO SPOILERS:

[punemy-spotted]

Sixteen Tons - Chapter 1

Chapter 1 - Muscle and Blood

Pairing: Miner!Curtis Everett x Witch!Reader

Warnings: THIS IS A HORROR FIC, Discussion of death, graphic depiction of someone bleeding out, 1890s coal mining town aesthetic in the modern day, strong pro-union opinions, Pentecostal Christianity, Appalachian Gothic Horror, Cosmic Horror, See future chapter warnings for additional tags, DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT

PLEASE REMEMBER THAT YOUR CONSUMPTION OF MEDIA IS YOUR OWN RESPONSIBILITY AND IF YOU ARE UNCOMFORTABLE WITH THE CONTENT THAT IS BEING PRESENTED, PLEASE DO NOT READ

Chapter Summary: The world melts away, rots into dirt and decay, and as a garden grows untended, you find your gifts crowding out the rest of your life.

We all know that the only light in the deep dark is a paycheck. So hush. Count your blessings, boy. Roof over your head, food on the table, diesel and grease, work boots on the porch, crippled back, crumbling joints, and silence. Company and even union, tuck you in, shut you up, and leave you to rot. And God damn it, you’d better be grateful. - Old Gods of Appalachia Episode 3: The Covenant

Notes: This fic also serves as a sort of direct sequel to Glory, Amen, in that the reader is technically the daughter of Pastor and Ma Rogers, but uses a pseudonym outside of the home she grew up in. The song referenced in this chapter is No Glory, by The Eagle Rock Gospel Singers. They're wonderful, so check them out!

At the time of publishing this chapter, the Family Sleepover, Down in the Valley is still ongoing! Please come by and check it out as we celebrate spooky season all year ‘round!

Also, in this house we support Unions.

All of my work is 18+ Only, Minors DO NOT INTERACT. I do not consent to my work being posted anywhere besides Tumblr or Ao3 and I post my work there myself. Do not copy, translate, or repost any of my content.

Curtis Everett is going to die.

‘Course, everything dies, eventually. Much as you loathed sittin’ through your daddy’s sermons, you knew the truth in ‘em — death is a prize every livin’ being, regardless of sapience or the desire to be, ought to aspire for.

Death is the gift of all gifts, your daddy would proclaim from his bone-and-antler pulpit, the final gesture of our loving Lord and Savior — an’ of course, you, your sisters, your momma, your daddy and a few others your daddy claimed were kinfolk on his side were just… all the guides meant to introduce all manner of worldly beings too blind t’understand just how precious that kind of oblivion was to the glory of that final, permanent end.

Still.

Curtis Everett is going to die.

Curtis Everett is going to die in your kitchen, his own pickaxe embedded in his chest, the final desperate pumps of his pierced heart pouring blood all over that pretty linoleum you didn’t actually like keepin’ in your kitchen an’ probably would tear up after you came to terms with never feelin’ like you could scrub away the remnants of him.

You watch it play out before you like you’ve done plenty of times before, the course of Curtis Everett’s life written in scars yet t’be earned, bruises waitin’ to bloom on flesh that has known little more than the danger an’ dread of coal dust for as long as you have known him.

You also watch him sittin’ in your clinic, for once not complainin’ as you finish cleaning and re-wrappin’ the thankfully not festering burn he’d been dutifully lettin’ you treat — per your own professional orders — for the past week-and-a-half, Looks like it’s healin’ nicely, but it’ll probably scar.

It’s not the first scar he’s earned in Snowpiercer, but it’s certainly not goin’ to be the last. You’ve been countin’ down the months — and injuries — to that particular worry for a while. The ones you can help him avoid — the ones he listens to you about — you warn against, and the ones he can’t escape, you patch up. The same as you would anyone in Snowpiercer, bein’ the company’s own doctor as you are.

Your momma’d scold you up, down an’ sideways if she knew what you were doin’, interferin’ with the predestined path of men as you watched ‘em struggle, suffer, an’ eventually succumb. But your momma wasn’t here to know, an’ ever if she was, your momma’d never be able to understand just what sorta poison of a gift it was she’d saddled you with.

Death is a Rogers daughter’s birthright, even if they themselves were more often than not denied the majesty of its truest gift. You were not born into this life to die, but to be a guardian of it, to guide the walkin’ dead makin’ their way beyond the borders of that ol’Holler you’d been born in through the trials of judgment an’ that precious, ultimate verdict.

You were not, your momma woulda reminded, voice sharp as the trowel she always kept at her side, garden bloomin’ by her stern hand, meant to shield ‘em from the pains of life — an’ the lessons to be gleaned from ‘em!

Anythin’ you want me to do with it? Curtis Everett’s question breaks you out of your bitterness, reminds you of the more pressin’ responsibilities you chose. You turn to watch him, lookin’ at him as if you might just need a moment to remember the exact instructions you ought to give for his wound care.

Except that’s not what you give, is it?

‘Stead, you look over Curtis Everett’s work-weary expression, the quest dread in his eyes at the prospect of needin’ to manage yet one more thing, one more purchase at the Company Store, one more burden to bear, Just come by every evenin’. I’ll keep the coal dust outta them wrappin’s for you.

You know full well you’ll need to work late t’take care of it — an’ t’clean the coal dust outta your clinic — but it’s better you than him.

Least, that’s what you tell yourself, as Curtis Everett’s shoulder relax, relief floodin’ those work-weathered features you’ve almost started memorizing by this time, makin’ the sleep you will almost certainly lose tomorrow and the remainder of this week worth it.

It must always be worth it.

By the time you leave your clinic, barrin’ the doors for  the night, even the moon’s started its settin’, leaving the town in near-pitch darkness. You might’ve — if you were young an’ naïve enough — equated the darkness around you to a mineshaft, if mineshafts still had the privilege of fresh air to reward you for breathin’.

Not on Company Time.

Wiser folk than you might’ve considered stayin’ indoors ‘til sunup. Maybe even considered the merits of puttin’ a cot in your office to avoid havin’ to brave the deep woods durin’ the Witchin’ Hour, everyone more than aware of what sorta shadows lurked beyond the borders of a sad little minin’ town — an’ what sorta shadows would encroach upon those borders the moment they got the chance.

You… ain’t got much time t’think about that now though, not when you catch sight of the figure lurkin’ by the road, the only path there is t’ween your two worlds — the Clinic and the House. Everett?

There he is, hands jammed into the pockets of his overcoat, lurkin’ by the lone streetlamp Pierce an’ Rumlow’d finally seen fit to install in this part of town, after you’d spent about four years complainin’. Too late to be walkin’ back alone, Doctor, he tells you, almost sheepishly, expression invisible in the darkness — and yet you know exactly how his lips have curved into a half-smile you might’ve been quick to return had you seen it in the daytime, Figured I’d walk you back up as thanks for stayin’  late for me.

You can’t help yourself, really — you smile at him right back, the corners of your mouth tickin’ up despite the cruelty playin’ out before your eyes, at least until you remember yourself an’ blink away the vision, If I kept the same hours as you pit boys, nobody’d be gettin’ patched up. Now you best not be tellin’ me you were lurkin’ out here in the pitch dark an’ cold waitin’ for me t’finish my notes and close up, Curtis Everett.

Maybe you ought not have put words in his mouth — or taken ‘em out, as the case may be — as he shrugs at you and flashes you a grin you cannot see but are certain of, Then I won’t, Doctor.

An’ with that, he starts off back down the road, towards the lights still spillin’ from the windows of your boarding house, hummin’ some ol’ work song you only halfway knew the words too. An’ you watch him go on for longer than you should, takin’ in the sight of his silhouette slowly becomin’ part of the gloom.

You catch up soon enough, keepin’ up with his long, languid strides as if by some miracle, your own steps quick and harried. There are moments you wonder how a man like Curtis Everett — always managin’ to tower over everyone in the room, includin’ Superintendent Wilford an’ that lady Minister Mason he’d installed over at  the Tabernacle of the Iron Gospel — ever really managed to fit in the mines this whole sad sack of a town was built around.

Shouldn’t have stayed out waitin’ for me, you scold with a good-natured ribbin’, not really meaning to chastise… but worry instead, You’ll’ve missed dinner call, Everett.

So’ve you, Doctor, he counters, the burr of laughter in his voice makin’ you roll your eyes an’ put on a scowl you barely mean — mostly cuz you hate feelin’ so outwitted, but no one dare make you admit it.

I’m allowed to be late, I own the place, you argue right back, a rebuttal that earns you another low chuckle, a sound you’re only used to hearin’ from Curtis on rare occasion — earnin’ you a burn of pride in your chest at hearing it now.

You really ought not do this, you know. But here you are, comfortable in the cold silence of the deep night, hands jammed into your coat pockets, walkin’ alongside Curtis Everett with all the calm an’ ease of dear friends.

Glancing at him. Looking without lookin’, pretendin’ you don’t know what you’ll see when you—

You know better, is the bottom line. You know you ought to know better — hell, you know your momma taught you better.

In the corner of your vision, Curtis Everett bleeds his last on your linoleum floor.

In front of you? Curtis Everett hums a work song an’ walks with you through the gloom, right up to the gold-light gleam of your doorstep an’ into your kitchen, the ghosts of the future fadin’ into an approaching dawn.

An’ maybe that’s enough.

Company House — its true name barely in use by you or your boarders, halfway for your own protection an’ halfways cuz it’s just easier — is a handsome-enough structure, nothin’ like that ramblin’ greenhouse you’d sprouted in, a bloom in your momma’s garden.

No. Company House — name lost an’ purpose found — on the other hand, is yours. All yours.

A loomin’ thing, the house cuts through the nighttime gloom like a lighthouse, every window on its main story burstin’ with light. Built on a hill overlookin’ the town proper, it served as home an’ hearth for any miner ineligible for the pretty pre-built housin’ developments south of the mine, where Pierce & Rumlow… rewarded those willin’ to produce more bodies to throw into that gapin’ wound the combine’d carved into the mountainside with such luxuries as driveways, fences, mortgages, an’ obligations.

It was just the way you liked it. Home for the lonely an’ the friendless — least that’s how it sounded in town, if someone dared ask Minister Mason about the mountain fortress an’ the ‘Godless Heathens’ inhabitin’ it. The Iron Gospel she preached ran on the blood an’ bones of its congregation, on family an’ obligation, on ties that bind whole generations to the mine.

A Gospel that had no room for the wholly different kinda worship that comes from strangers sittin’ round a table breakin’ bread an’ formin’ bonds. On brotherhood an’ union, on wantin’ somethin’ better that the paltry concessions afforded by minders with plenty of money t’provide more. You knew it then from your daddy’s own congregation an’ those Sunday suppers your momma arranged each week. You know it now from the warm surety of Curtis Everett’s hand on your arm, keepin’ you from losin’ your footing on that trick step you ain’t had time to fix — I can get Ed to take care of that tomorrow — and the sound of hurried conversation bubbling outta your front parlor, house still buzzin’ with life.

Shit, Curtis’s swearing nearly startles you outta your skin all over again as you both stand on the front porch, stompin’ the day’s coal dust off your shoes, forgot there was meeting tonight. Foreman’s gonna have words for me, no doubt.

You’re allowed t’be late, for walkin’ me home, you tell him, letting the light of the house illuminate your smile as you open the front door.

Meeting is a cute word for it — s’the way things go, get the lonely and the friendless to start airin’ grievances an’ suddenly they ain’t so lonely nor so friendless anymore. A man with a wife and children might think twice about givin’ the company a reason to tear away the roof over his family’s head, divin’ into his future tomb day after day, respirator an’ headlamp in hand, but a man with nothin’ to lose is a man with a bone to pick with the only industry in town capable of puttin’ food in his belly on a daily basis — so long as he survived to see his next meal. Unions, you got used to hearin’ back in your own holler, are the Lord’s way of puttin’ His protection back into a man’s own hands.

Too bad them folks at P&R’d forgotten that sorta conventional wisdom.

Tonight’s union meeting is just about comin’ to a close when you and Curtis walk in, a cracked joke derailing whatever Gilliam’s supposed agenda had left to cover. You’re late, the old man half-scolds, room hushed by his disappointment as all eyes turn to you and the union leader you know you’re already being accused of distracting.

Curtis Everett is going to die.

Ignoring the raised voices that begin in your wake — and unwilling to get between two men in the middle of a union dispute — you make yourself proper scarce, disappearing into the kitchen. Between running the clinic and  the house, you’re run halfway ragged, but you do cheer quietly upon seeing two foil-covered plates sitting in the fridge — Yona keeps true to her eternal word, making sure nobody goes hungry if she’s got the time and the ingredients.

The sound of someone entering the kitchen while you’re putting plates in the warmer don’t surprise you much — someone was bound to follow you into this place eventually — but you don’t turn around, not immediately.

Not ‘til Curtis Everett clears his throat, Thought I smelled food.

You sure  you ain’t part bloodhound, smellin’ it all the way out there?

There. Another burr of laughter, low in his throat, and another burn of pride.

They calm down out there? You wave your hand toward the general direction of the parlor, noting the distinct lack of raised voices now that the warmer’s stopped beepin’ at you.

It’s my fault — should’ve told ‘em I’d be late.

They worried?

He’s quiet at that, the silence sittin’ heavy on both your shoulders while you move around the kitchen some more, collectin’ utensils and glancin’ back at him occasionally, waiting.

Finally — Gilliam’s steppin’ down. Nobody wants the job — company’s made sure of that.

You set the platter in front of him, to quiet thanks, He still want you to take over?

He don’t need to answer. You see it again, written all over his face — someone’s gotta do it.

The rest of the meal is… quiet. Heavy. Uncomfortable. A silence neither of you are willin’ to break, coupled with glances neither of you are willin’ to admit to, brows furrowed and thoughts elsewhere. Barely tasting the food, just glad to have something to busy your mouths with, ‘stead of trying to hold a conversation neither party wants t’have or worse — trying to change the fuckin’ subject, with both your minds trapped on the things you’d rather not think about.

Curtis Everett is going to die.

Everything dies, eventually. You rationalize it between bites, teeth on tongue to keep the scream of it all held in your chest. Everything dies, including Curtis Everett. Including Gilliam — whose death you’ve pre-emptively forgiven certain parties for. Including Yona — whose hands will evidence endless adventures before she lays down for that final rest, satisfied an’ satisfying. Everything dies. Includin’ Curtis Everett.

Curtis Everett, who will take on the work. Who, in three weeks’ time, will be back in your clinic, bullet in his shoulder an’ strike unbroken. Company infuriated.

One injury closer.

You open your mouth, about to do the unthinkable, disappointment and poisoned bloom — everythin’ dies, but Curtis Everett deserves to choose — when the music finally registers with you both.

Music. And singing. And laughter.

The kitchen door slams open hard enough to rattle the plates in the cupboard, Yona’s wild presence in the doorway, Come on!

No explanation. No answers. You’ll have t’see it to know it.

Curtis glances back at you, brow raised an’ hackles too. Better make sure they’re behavin’ out there, is all you give in response to it, on your feet in a flash, empty dishes in hand.

He lingers, eyes on you. Imposes his will with his presence, You need help with the dishes?

Let him stay.

You don’t.

S’two plates an’ a couple mugs. I’ll be fine — you go, keep an eye on ‘em for me.

He’s so fast — behind you in a flash. How does a man so tall an’ so full of presence move so fast?

Got no time  for answering that, not when his hand’s on your shoulder and you’re glancin’ back at him without thinkin’, waiting. Come out there when you’re done or Yona’ll never let either of us hear the end of it.

An’ neither will I, is what he doesn’t say. Not aloud, at least, stepping back only when you nod.

It don’t stop you from hearin’ it though, playin’ on loop in your mind all the way through dishes, through cleanin’ up your kitchen, through makin’ good on your word an’ takin’ that cautious walk to your parlor, where the sound of stompin’ boots joins in with the chorus of voices pouring outta your record player, blessedly drownin’ out all manner of conscious thought.

Take me down to that red dirt road Where all them white tails, white tails roam

The parlor is abuzz with life, a hive of movement as you take in rearranged furniture an’ the slowly climbin’ beat of stomping boots coupled with clapping hands, ring of bodies circlin’ the room, all watching Tanya — up from the General Store like always, on behalf of the widows this town left behind — in her valiant attempt to tutor Edgar in the complexities an’ social conventions of a good ol’ fashioned barn dance.

I don’t belong in a big coal town Can’t hear my Lord in all that sound

You almost manage t’become part of that ring of onlookers, slippin’ past the disapproval ruining Gilliam’s face, but turns out no one escapes Curtis Everet, work-hardened fingers winding around your wrist an’ pulling you back, Thought I was gonna have t’come rescue you from the sink, and now there’s no getting away, nor are you feelin’ quite so keen on it anymore.

Not when he looks at you like that.

Wanna show ‘em how it’s done, Doctor?

You dance, Everett? Since when? And since when did Curtis Everett become capable of smiling so sweet he just might fool you into saying yes?

Hell — what gave him the right?

Well I’ve had my fill, of concrete floor Where all them highways, them highways grow

You don’t get a chance to ask too many questions of him, not when he’s pullin’ your fool self right into the center of that cleared floor, sayin’ somethin’ about secrets you barely catch before he’s turnin’ you about an’ you gotta start paying some fucking attention.

There ain’t no glory None that I see None to compare Your love for me

‘Course, you’ve danced before — your daddy might’ve been a fire an’ brimstone preacher up at that bone an’ antler pulpit but he wasn’t a fool — but barn dances an’ church revivals don’t do shit t’prepare you for the rush, for the easy pressure of Curtis Everett’s hands on you, for the peal of laughter that pours outta your throat before you get a chance to think about it the moment he spins you out an’ catches you back with entirely too much ease.

He surprises you and doesn’t at the same time, sure hands and steady feet, both of you catching on to the rhythm quickly as the rest of the room drums the beat, a cacophony of work boots strikin’ the floor in a steady pattern, You gonna answer my question properly, Everett, you accuse him and he pulls you closer, smile on your face betrayin’ any anger you might be feigning.

I’m full of surprises, Doctor.

My days are few, my time is near But I know God will take my fear

He keeps his hands respectful, holdin’ one of your high and keepin’ the other at the small of your back, but there’s nothin’ either of you can — or want to, you’re startin’ to realize — do about the closeness, about the way you can’t stop looking up at him and the stormclouds in his eyes, like you’re seeing them for the first time. Really seeing them, that is.

It’s somethin’. Hypnotic.

The chorus turns into a loop, a rising swell of voices joinin’ your thudding heartbeat, lips parting to ask another question, make another joke, feel that burr of laughter against your chest, feel hands fallin’ from the glory of God to meet a different kinda worship, feel fingers curl into his coat like a lifeline.

He holds your cheek. He draws you in.

His mouth slides over yours like an invitation, your lips parting like an acceptance, like forgetting, like surrender. The music does not slow, but you do, fallin’ into the languid ease of hungry breathlessness, like you could find answers in the sweep of a tongue against yours, in the tightening of his grip on your back, in the wall of him around you.

Your love for me Your love for me Your love for me Your love for me

[oswidower]

Happy 15 days until Snowpiercer season 4! 🎉❄️

I know who some of you obsess over but give me your top 5 Snowpiercer characters (They must be alive)! I'll start:

1. Osweiller

2. Javi

3. Ruth

4. Zarah

5. Papa Roche

[homely-lunatic]

no YOU guys started shipping bess and audrey on snowpiercer in season 3 when the show began to develop them as a couple. I started shipping them season 1 episode 1 after I saw someone make a jinju/bess gifset on the snowpiercer tag that maybe had 3 (three) people actively posting on it except they thought jinju was audrey so they mistagged it and I wasn't able to let go of the idea for the next three years and had my little mind absolutely fucking blown when season 3 started. we are not the same.