#this week it's only -5 on average and I keep thinking it's above the snow melting point

[thesinglesock]

saw grass today. which was weird because I was out in the woods and the snow was up to my elbows. but I walked on some trails that had been shoveled and grass was poking through. it was green. why was it green. we've had sub-zero temperatures for 4 months. how is grass? green?

[feathers-scales-and-tails]

My ‘unhealthy’ chickens

My blog has a lot of cute chicken photos on it, and sometimes I get comments such as “wow I want a chicken like that!” Which is lovely! I’m glad to spread the chicken love! However I want to take a second to address this. Just like with dogs, there are many breeds of chicken which are unhealthy and have health consequences because of this. I have a couple of birds like this. I just want to make people aware that if they seriously want a bird like this, to take into account what health issues may come with them.

Sooty - Frizzle feathers

Sooty is a fan favourite, and one of my favourites too. I do admit that I love the frizzle feather gene, it just looks so cool! However frizzle feathering causes some issues and I didn’t intentionally get a frizzle, Sooty hatched from a mystery egg. Her Dad was the only frizzle in the flock, with 13 other roosters, so she was a surprise to say the least!

Weather intolerance: Due to the feathers sticking out like that, birds can’t warm up in the cold since their feathers don’t provide a protective barrier and body heat escapes. This also means they have no natural shelter from rain and wind. Sooty doesn’t have to worry about any of this, it’s never cold where I live and she lives inside. She really struggles in the heat, however that’s likely due to her leg and foot feathering which I’ll discuss later, rather than the frizzle feathering.

Flight: Birds can’t fly well, since their primary wing feathers are curled or brittle. This puts them at risk of leg and spinal injuries if they try to fly from too large a height. Sooty did severe nervous damage to her spine when she was 8 weeks old, causing her to become paralysed in the legs for 3 months. Thankfully, she fully recovered after 5 months of physiotherapy.

Sooty’s wings look like this. Not all frizzle feathered birds have flights this poor, however it is a potential consequence of the feather type.

Communication: Another issue frizzle feathers cause is communication within a flock. Sooty used to get pecked a lot by her top hen Kath, because Kath thinks Sooty is always challenging her to fight! Chickens use their neck feathers, called hackle feathers, to communicate a whole bunch of things. From fear, to aggression, to even asking another flock member to clean their feathers. Since frizzle feathers stick out like that, the bird struggles to move them into the positions used for communication so can’t talk to their flock very well. Sooty’s curled hackle feathers make it look like she’s always challenging another hen to a fight

You can see how those raised hackles kinda look like Sooty’s ‘mane’ of curled neck feathers! Thankfully, Sooty is second in command and her head hen, Kath, seems to have learnt that Sooty just looks like that! So she doesn’t get attacked very frequently anymore.

Unethical breeding: The gene which causes frizzle feathers in homozygous form (two copies of the gene) also causes serious issues. These birds are called Frazzles or ‘over frizzled’ and their feathers are very weak, often falling out and leaving the bird naked. It can be painful for them, and if they’re left outside, they certainly wouldn’t survive. Therefore frizzles should never be bred together. To breed frizzles you should use a frizzle feathered bird with a smooth feathered bird. However, this means you hatch only 50% frizzles, so some unethical breeders breed frizzle x frizzle to reduce the amount of smooth feathered birds they get.

A Frazzle chicken

Heart failure: These feathers have also been linked with enlarged hearts, increasing risk of heart failure. Since the feathers cause loss of body heat, it causes an increase in metabolism and other physiological functions to keep the body temperature at the appropriate level. This means the heart has to work harder, increasing its size and putting more strain on it. Sooty tires out easier, and when she used to be out ranging she’d frequently come inside to sleep on the couch while her flock was still outside having fun. I could see this putting them more at risk of predation, since if they’re already tired they don’t have the same stamina of another bird to flee a predator.

Solo - Heavy foot/leg feathering

Not the most flattering photo of her but the best one I have to show her foot feathering! As you can see she was quite cranky with me! She’s a Silkie X Pekin, which are both breeds known to have heavily feathered legs. There are many breeds with healthy foot feathering, such as Langshans

But some like the show-type Pekin bantam, have a number of issues associated with their foot feathering. Here’s a Pekin in comparison to the Langshan above

As you can see the feathering is much much heavier!

Mobility: Very heavy leg and foot feathering significantly reduces mobility. The large feathers make it harder to move toes, making perching more difficult, and are a tripping hazard. Solo is always tripping over, stumbling, and ‘shuffling’ when she walks since her feet impair her movement a significant amount. I’m probably going to cut her foot feathers off so she can move about easier. They’d never hindered her movement until now, this molt they grew in humongous for some reason. Obviously having a built in tripping hazard isn’t a good idea, since it predisposes the bird to a higher risk of leg injuries.

Thermotegulation: As mentioned above, legs and feet are very important in helping a bird regulate their temperature. Lightly feathered legs like the Langshan has don’t have this issue, since the bird has majority of its foot free to cool down with. Heavily feathered legs like the pekin provide little surface area to cool down with, so the birds can really struggle in hot weather. Solo is one of our least heat tolerant birds, and she thankfully has wattles and a comb unlike poor Silkies!

Cleanliness: Heavily feathered feet get disgusting! They’re more prone to getting dirty and are harder for the birds to keep clean. Solo always has poop, sticks, food, mud, and all sorts of other gunk crusted into her foot feathering. I have to clean them quite frequently so that she doesn’t get bacterial build up.

Other health ailments: In my experience, heavily feathered feet tend to be a beacon for related leg and foot health issues. We don’t have to worry about this where I live, but foot feathers can get wet in snow and heighten frostbite risk for toes. Although I don’t have to worry about the cold, sadly these foot feathers also have heat related issues! I live in a sub-tropical environment, so humidity levels get pretty high here. Bacteria loves humidity. Solo has had a bad case of Bumblefoot which was really hard to treat due to this humidity. Sweep, another bird with heavy foot feathering, has had 2 cases of bumblefoot now. I’ve never had a clean-legged bird get bumblefoot, so it’s definitely linked to trapping bacteria and humidity. I haven’t had to deal with this parasite myself, but apparently feather-legged breeds are more prone to Scaly-leg mite too.

Cujo - Heavy layer breeds

Cujo is a Hamburg, sometimes referrred to as ‘Everlayers’ since they have a reputation for reliably laying an egg every day. They rarely go broody, and if they do are very easy to dissuade. I am very against production breeds if they’re not within an agricultural industry, where they have a purpose, since it tragically shortens their lives so much. The Hamburgs lay on average 200 eggs annually, which isn’t too bad and makes them a healthier layer breed, but it’s certainly heavier laying than most of the other breeds I have. Cujo is actually very healthy, I took great care in picking a breeder to get her from and most of his birds are lighter layers than they ‘should’ be. Cujo was laying 3-4 eggs a week before her current molt, much better than the 5-7 her breed has a reputation for.

Heart failure: One of the most frequent ends to laying birds is heart failure. Their bodies are under so much stress to make an egg every day that their bodies eventually just give up, usually from heart failure.

They don’t go broody: A lot of people don’t like broody hens, since they stop laying and sit on their nest all day, however I really like them. A broody hen gets a much needed break from laying eggs! Some breeds continue to lay eggs over winter, and some birds don’t stop laying when they molt if it’s a light one. So broodies give the bird a choice to stop laying and sit on eggs when she wants, if she didn’t get a break over winter or molt. Breeding this behaviour out of production breeds contributes to their issues, since they can’t take that break.

Shortened life span: Due to the strain mass egg production puts on their bodies, average lifespan is 3-4 years compared to the 6-10+ of healthy heritage breeds. I had a utility leghorn as a pet many years ago, her heart tragically gave out on her one day while I wasn’t home. She was dirtbathing in her favourite spot when it happened, so I hope to think it was a peaceful end. She was only 2 years old.

Reproductive complications: Heavy layer breeds are more prone to experiencing issues with their reproductive tract. This includes cancers, tumours, prolapses, egg binding, and egg yolk peritonitis (infection). They’re also more prone to nutrient deficiencies, especially with calcium, since it takes so much out of them to lay eggs. This is easily preventable with a balanced diet, however if calcium deficiency does occur the hen can suffer from brittle bones.

Sweep - Aggressive breeds

Now Sweep isn’t nearly as bad as this title frames her to be, but it’s still worth a mention. We can only guess what her parentage is since she came from mystery eggs, but we think Sweep is an Old English Game cross Pekin. In Australia, Old English Game are a hyper aggressive breed. They were bred for the cruel sport of cockfighting, where two roosters are forced to fight to the death. Thankfully this sport is now criminalised, but nobody bred the aggressiveness out of this breed.

Injury risk: hyper aggressive breeds pose a greater risk of injury mainly to other flock mates, but also to themselves. These birds often antagonise others despite there not really being a reason to, resulting in more fighting, disharmony, and injury within a flock. If another bird is stronger than them and gets sick of their shit, they themselves could be seriously hurt since they often don’t know when to back down from a fight like non-aggressive birds do. Sweep has to be housed separate from my main flock with her mother, Solo for company. She has tried many times to outrank birds in my main flock but her fighting is very brutal compared to the normal pecking order fights. She aims for the eyes, and came close to blinding a bird once before, I can’t risk that sort of injury.

Mortality risk: continuing on from that first point, some individuals will take their aggressiveness too far and kill fellow flock mates. What might start out as a simple pecking order fight can turn very bloody and very brutal with these breeds fast. Roosters can kill hens and hens can kill hens. This obviously should never happen in well bred, good tempered birds. I do not say this jokingly when I say that Sweep and Sooty would kill each other if I let them. They’re both Pekin X Old English, and although Sooty is good with other birds, she’s terrible with Sweep. I’m hoping Sweep will mellow with age (she’s currently 2) and I can integrate her and Solo as part of Blossom’s flock.

Social interaction: I think this is something a lot of people don’t seem to consider, but having hyper aggressive birds which have to be housed seperate will obviously hugely impact upon their social needs. It doesn’t matter how aggressive the bird is, a chicken is, and always will be, a social animal. They need companionship, and while this can be provided by us, it’s easiest to provide it with other chickens. Keeping a social animal by itself, never letting it interact with others, and not providing that companionship yourself is incredibly inhumane in my opinion. It doesn’t matter if that bird is incapable of interacting without trying to kill the others, the fact is that this animal is still hardwired to live in a social group. By breeding such aggressive animals, it’s very cruel since it deprives them of such a basic need.

Now this post isn’t to say people can’t get a breed if they like it but it has health consequences, because something like those heavy foot feathers don’t cause the bird any harm or pain in itself, it’s just a consequence of poor management. So if you’re willing to do the work to ensure those features don’t hinder the animals quality of life, then excellent! Go ahead and get those basketball-shaped Pekin lads! This post was merely a reminder to think critically and research any animal/breed before you get them, and to make sure you’re prepared for any future consequences or adjustments for that animal/breed. Sooty and Solo need fans set up on their pens during the Summer, Sweep needs a seperate coop, and all three need adjusted perches and weekly foot health checks because of their heavily feathered feet. Once again, the importance of you screening for ethical, responsible breeders is crucial when deciding to bring a new family member home.

Thanks for reading!

[whatdoesshedotothem]

Wednesday 4 January 1837

7 ¼

11 40

No kiss F31° now at 8 ¼ am and fine morning – the snow a good deal gone – this return to freezing convenient to me for getting the Long goit scale carted to under the Mytholm bridge wall – Had Joseph Mann a few minutes – stones wanted for the Long goit – ordered at Hipperholme quarry – the measures perpendicular and crushed and bad as ever in Pearson’s land about 10 yards on this side the road – breakfast at 9 ¼ to 9 ¾ - before and after till 10 35 wrote out Rent audit – 2 copies – 1 for SW one for myself – went down to SW at 10 35 – settling with him about the rent day etc till 11 ¼ - He thought £100 for Lower brea too much – I said my uncle had laid out £1000 upon it, and I heard enough of what GR- has laid out, the place ought to be worth £100 a year – SW- to consider about and let me know how much too much he thought £100 a year – the Soughtedge Harrison field to be paid for on the 2nd of next month – I said SW- must explain why he thought A- ought to have it – I did not quite see why – it was on the other side of the road – but if it would be a greater convenience to her than to me, she had certainly have it – at any rate, her tenant Mr. Holmes should have the 1st refusal of it – SW- to consider about it – time to make out the deeds – time to settle whether A- or I should have the field – either of us – it matters not much – had written the above at 11 ½ -

SH:7/ML/E/19/0184

Holt at 11 ½ come to see the Long goit and to say the Bowling Engineer would be here on Friday or Monday next – told him the estimates the Manns had given in – no objection – but he seemed to think the middle band water drift unnecessary – it would be easy driving – should be done at 3/6 per yard instead of 4/. per yard as for the rag-water drift - - the drift in Godley Lane for water should also be done at 3/6 – mentioned Mr. Jeremiah Rawson’s application for the coal – R- cannot now get more than 2 acres per annum because obliged to pull all up at the marsh pit – It will be 3 years before they can spend the level they are going to drive for next spring (Joseph M- told me this afternoon from Low bed to Little band coal = 28 yards) If they sink 28 yards (the coal dipping 1 at 17) 28x17 = 476 yards breadth of coal they will loose – a great breadth but the job is not done yet – Ever with the out the water that will be thrown on them, they cannot get 28 yards with their present engine – what an outlay! R- says the coal does not pay him now – How can it pay him hereafter – nothing no coal for him to buy but of me or Mr. Walker Priestley 40 or 50 DW which Holt can get at ½ the expense R- can – R- cannot get them of 2 or 3 years nor Mrs. Machan’s of 5 or 6 years – H- bade Mr. WP- £80 per acre Low bed and £70 per acre upper bed – not taken – will not apply again till their pit is bottomed – to be bottomed in November next – R-‘s colliery cannot last many years – must now turn off half his colliers – cannot employ more than 10 or 12 – they cannot get coal enough now for their supply – Stocks can only get Micklemoss loosed thro’ Wilson – W- told Holt S- had been at him often, but he (W-) would have nothing to do with him – this rise in coal makes a difference of £5 per week to W- who says he can weather it out – H- told him he might make a fortune in loosing other people – told H- if I did not clear £300 per acre I should be forced into letting my colliery – H- all in good spirits – said it would pay that – coal would keep up – my coal would always average 10d. per load at the platform – I said I allowed 6d. per load to cover all expense – 10d- 6d = 4d. per clear profit – that would do – all above £300 per acre would be benefit to pay me for my trouble in keeping the colliery in my own hands –

Joseph Mann told me this afternoon I should allow 2d. per load for carting –

Bad job at the Long goit the stuff being again so crushed and irregular – the men gave up working during last night – could not get on – Holt will see after it –

walked down towards Mytholm with Holt about 12 – met Mr. Freeman – took him to the wheel-race – he said £350 would not pay for it – I told him I thought it would be about £400 masonry and digging – asked the value of power   15 horse – he said £300 per annum – 2 horse power = 3 worsted frames which let easily at £17 per frame (Henry Bates had told F-) I said this satisfied me – the mill was let – I was not at liberty to say to whom – nobody should have a corn mill here (F- did now know this mill was for corn) of more than 10 or 12 horse power – F- turning a corn mill of his into a worsted mill – would cost him £2000 – left F- downstairs while I went upstairs at the Stag’s head and sent for Aquilla Green – had him till after 1 (dinner waiting on the table) asked if he was quite decided about the mill – yes! would abide by his agreement – could keep on both mills this here, and the mill at H-x – I said he took it at £255 per annum – not by power he was to take it as it would stand – He wanted to take the Staups cottages that William Green had for William daughter – I said the cottages were let – but I would not let them to WG-‘s daughter at any rate – too disreputable a person – AG- said more for her than was quite consistent with morality – on leaving the Stag’s head sometime in Mytholm Ing with Joseph Mann – then with the gardener placing large oak yew trees wood on the embankment near the great sycamore – then with John Booth – came in about 4 ½ - had SW- who paid me the rents he had received this morning at the Stag’s head – spoke of making the best of the land during my absence the fog would not let for more than 14/. per DW for sheep to remain on the ground till the middle or end of February – I proposed netting off 2 acres at once – the net said SW-  would = £8 at Knaresborough 300 to 400 stakes required – 1 for every 2 ½ yards – to see Thomas Greenwood and make the best arrangement he can about the Conery Ing – I said G-‘s land would be thought poor enough by anybody wanting to take it – G- not my best farmer – no! said SW- evidently agreeing in what I had said and owning that he (G-) was a very bad farmer – SW- to settle with Mrs. Dewhirst – he should [said] she should let the fixtures against the overtime she was allowed to stay in the house and for which she paid nothing – A- and I to settle by Saturday which should have the little Southedge field bought of Mr. Harrison – I said perhaps we should toss up for it, if she had no particular wish either way – I wished it to be done for the best – SW- thought £3.10.0 a fair rent – I said I could let it for £4 SW- did not doubt – satisfied when he heard A-‘s Southedge was at all rates to have the 1st refusal – A- returned about 5 – dressed – read a little of last nights’ paper – dinner at 6 ½ - coffee upstairs – very sleepy afterwards – asleep on the sofa about ½ hour – then reading the architectural magazine that came tonight  with the other periodicals – no newspaper – then till 11 40 wrote all the journal of today but the first 14 1/3 lines – George on returning from H-x this morning (went with A- to Mr. Gilmores’) brought me a letter from Mr. Watson – the Misses Preston would be glad to accommodate me – could not give an answer till after Wednesday when they would hear from Mr. Parker!  getting them a security for £8000 would prefer 2 securities – I shall wait their answer – all very well – I can m’arranger dans tous les cas? fine day F34° now at 11 374 pm sat up with A- talking and what?

[ahs-source]

Happy Friday! Welcome to this week’s Fanfiction Friday! Thank you to those who submitted these fantastic works for this week’s Fanfiction Friday. Let’s celebrate these wonderful works that you can all read while in quarantine! Please stay safe!

As Above, So Below (Completed) by 7_wonders (AO3) Relationships: Michael Langdon x Female Reader | Tags: Hades & Persephone au | Completed (23/23 Chapters) | 71441 words

Your average, mundane life as a college student is flipped upside down when the man you thought you knew as your next-door neighbor turns out to be the God of the Dead. When Michael lures you down to Hell, everything that you thought you knew about the world is proven wrong.

Headache (Completed) by heramew (AO3) Relationships: Fiona Goode x Myrtle Snow | Tags: Abuse, Hurt/Comfort, young Fiona and Myrtle | Completed (1/1 Chapters) | 2098 words

1971, Fiona and her friends sneaked up to a party in town, but things didn't go as planned.

Headfirst for Halos (WIP) by @hellish-ramblings-of-an-emo​ (Tumblr) Relationships: Tate Langdon x Female Reader | Warnings: allusions to both physical and emotional abuse from a family member, actual physical abuse between a freshman and a senior, allusions to mental illnesses such as depression, student v. student violence. A certain way an event was phrased could be considered an allusion to molestation. strong language. a reference to homophobic slurs (none were used) | Completed (1/? Chapters) | 1240 words

I truly believe there isn’t a sound as horrible as the sound of my alarm. The repetitive chimes shoot straight to the center of my brain. It’s horrible. My bones crack as I attempt to get out of bed, a groan instinctively leaving my throat. I was dizzy, the light peeking through from between my blinds making my head throb. My shitty alarm clock read 6:27AM. 15 minutes until my ride gets here.

Love Like Winter (Completed) by @dailylangdon​​ (Tumblr) Relationships: Winter Anderson x Female Reader | Warnings: Oral sex, alcohol use, fingering, lack of plot | Completed (1/1 Chapters) | 549 words

How did you end up like this?

You hadn’t seen her in god knows how long. She was just a girl you knew from school. It was Christmas break from college and by chance you ran into her on your first night back in town.

She took you to her place and you split a frozen cherry lime wine cooler. The two of you talked about old times and dissolved into giggles. Next thing you knew, every piece of your clothing was hastily peeled off your body.

Resistance is Futile (Completed) by Sojourne (AO3) Relationships: Michael Langdon x Female Reader | Tags: Dubious Consent, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Demons, Bondage, Begging, Size Difference, Size Kink, Dirty Talk, Oral Sex, Vaginal Fingering, Fingerfucking, Hand & Finger Kink, Overstimulation, Choking, Hair-pulling, Demons, Demon Summoning, Spanking, Rough Sex | Completed (1/1 Chapters) | 5355 words

Soon after moving into your new apartment, you realize that something isn't quite right. It's constantly cold, you always feel like someone is watching you, and things start moving around on their own.

Turns out, one of the past tenants summoned a demon and then trapped him here, and now he's upset with you invading his territory. Uh-oh.

Demon AU

Run Rabbit Run (Completed) by @maso-xchrist​​​​ (Tumblr) Relationships: Michael Langdon x Female Reader | Warnings: PURE SMUT. Non/dub-con, chasing, violence, mimicry, knifeplay, cutting, stabbing, choking, hanging, & blood consumption. In other words, not for the faint of heart! | Completed (1/1 Chapters) | 6k+ words

A single heart beats in the outpost.

Security Blanket (Completed) by @mxnstersarehuman​​​​​​ (Tumblr) Relationships: Kai Anderson x Female Reader | Prompt: Hey could you write something maybe for a softer Kai Anderson x reader idc what I’m sorry I know this isn’t really specific just softer Kai thanks if you can! | Completed (1/1 Chapters)

You hear the slam of the door and immediately know Kai is home. Things had been so hectic as of late and he was always so busy with his cult so you always made sure to stay up for his return home just so you could see him. Even if it was only for a few minutes before fatigue took over and you both fell asleep.

Kai was a terrifying person, mean and vindictive and manipulative and cruel, all things that he had never been towards you. Everyone in the cult had thought you were crazy for accepting his proposal of a date when he had offered a year ago, but you saw something in his eyes when he asked you. His request wasn’t demanding like you would’ve expected, rather polite and genuinely inquisitive as to whether you actually liked him romantically.

So of course you had said yes.

thanatos (Completed) by SophieGraceJ (AO3) Relationships: Michael Langdon x Mallory | Tags: Immobilisation kink, Smut, Rape/Non-con Elements, Creepy, Blood and Gore, fairytale!au, Snow White!Au, dark!millory, this is dark, Death, cosmic horror kinda | Completed (1/1 Chapters) | 2537 words

“There’s something in these forests.” “Something … something venomous. It’s been killing me since I arrived here. It is what drains me of life, what keeps me bed ridden.” “But I cannot leave. I protect the people. Now I pass this onto you, this destiny is yours now Mallory.”

She fell, fell deep into the grave, body unmoving. At first, she suspected it was sleep. But it wasn’t. No.

Her eyes blinking again, vision clear. She could see, hear, smell … but not touch. Couldn’t move a finger, couldn’t wriggle her toes, couldn’t open her mouth to gasp when time passed.

He met her gaze, and his eyes widened. Only just discovering an intimacy. He smiled some more. This time, it reached his eyes, although they wept with tears, copying her own.

The Devil Incarnate (Completed) by jeromevaleska​​​​​ (AO3) Relationships: Michael Langdon x Female Reader | Tags: POV Second Person, Eventual Smut, Banter, Slow Burn, Family Drama, Lots of plot, Reader-Insert, Explicit Language, Slow Build, Sexual Tension, it starts off when miriam brings michael into her home, there will be smut ya'll already know, Reader-Interactive, Eventual Sex, there's some tension between you and michael, you don't trust him at all, Porn With Plot, i'll add tags as the story goes on, Love/Hate, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Dysfunctional Relationships, Explicit Sexual Content, Developing Relationship | Completed (23/23 Chapters) | 142022 words

You're Miriam Mead's daughter, and you two have a complicated relationship to say the least. You think she's more than a little bonkers with her religious beliefs, and no matter how much she has tried to make you follow the same dark path, it's in vain. But when Miriam welcomes Michael into your home, you start to question everything and you just might become a believer.

the love that discovered the sin (Completed) by @lvngdvns​​​​​ (Tumblr) Relationships: Michael Langdon x Female Reader x Timothy Howard | Warnings: Fingering, oral sex (fem. receiving), threesome, rough sex, double penetration, anallingus, anal sex, vaginal sex, degradation, choking, cum eating, religion kink, biblical allusions/perversion of scripture, all things blasphemous and unholy. Literally just sacrilegious PWP. (+ crack ship pairing) | Completed (1/1 Chapters) | 4.4k words

“Bless me father,” she breathes into Timothy’s ear as she crawls astride his lap, slipping a finger underneath the rim of his collar and pulling it free in a single, effortless motion, “for I have sinned.”

Untitled pt. 2 (pt.1 here) by @writerforprompt​​ (Tumblr) Relationships: Kai Anderson x Female Reader | Warnings: Oral Sex, Manipulation, Mention of Drug Use, Vaginal Sex, Dark Themes, Pregnancy | Completed (1/1 Chapters) | 2350 words 

You were kneeling in between Kai’s legs, head tilted towards the sky, arching your throat into his grip. You brought your chest forward to make sure it was directly within his line of sight. Based upon the number of hungry glances he shot down your plunging neckline, you’d say it was.

Thank you to those who sent in these works! Please continue sending submissions to ahs-source.tumblr.com/submit or through the Tumblr mobile app to continue celebrating the writers in the community!

Previous FF Fridays: 1 | 2a + 2b | 3 | 4a + 4b | 5 | 6

[thefanficdude]

The Winter Months: OCTOBER, Part 1

The wind blew through the barren trees, the only petals left from the previous season struggling to stay on their branches. The ground was no longer grass, but rather a medley of yellow, orange, and red leaves that fell from the looming forest above. The soft yet violent breeze was cold with a familiar change, yet it usually didn’t come this early. He knew this was all but good.

Wilbur walked back to the village, navigating through the masses of bark and stumps that were all too familiar to him. After all, this had been his home for his whole life. While on his way, the wind picked up and he adjusted his coat and hat to conserve heat. Leaves from the ground flew up into the air and created a swirl that could be described as a tornado of fall colours. The leaves wisped past Wilbur with the effortless force of the breeze. He watched them pass, admiring the beauty of the changing seasons while also knowing the winter would not be kind to him and his people. He continued to walk.

Eventually, he got to the town he called home. There were 8 buildings made of sticks, stones and mud, all designed to withstand the four seasons. 7 of the buildings were the houses of the 7 people that occupied this area, but the last building was the Community House, a place where they held meetings, discussed local issues, and planned their strategies for war (They were all generally peaceful people, but when threatened they were some of the best fighters in the land). Wilbur was making his way to the last, which was the biggest of the 8 and located right in the middle of the town. A voice stopped him before he could step through the door.

“Wilbur!” A young boy about 17 years old with golden hair ran towards him with a smile on his face.

“Tommy, right on time!” Wilbur said as Tommy slowed his pace and stopped in front of him. “I was just about to call a meeting. Round everyone up for me and tell them to meet here.” Tommy’s smile was replaced with a more serious tone.

“Is it about winter?” He asked. “We still have quite a while until snow comes. At least 8 weeks if I’ve been counting right.”

“You’ve been counting right,” Wilbur said. “But the leaves have fallen much quicker than normal and the air is getting colder every day, much more than it should.” Wilbur sighed, thinking about his next words. “Just get everybody to come as soon as possible, alright?”

“Yeah yeah, I’ll get everyone here in less than 5 minutes” Tommy said dismissively.

“Thank you,” Wilbur stepped inside the Community House as he heard Tommy’s footsteps run through the village.

There wasn’t a single soul Wilbur knew that was more stubborn and determined than Tommy. Sure, these traits often lead Tommy to most, if not all of his problems, but they were also his greatest strengths. When something needed to be done, Tommy was always the first one on the case, despite being the youngest out of everyone. Wilbur admired that about him. He wished he was like that when he was Tommy’s age.

Wilbur looked around the Community House, taking in everything about it; the nostalgic smell of the wood and charcoal, the mural painting that went all the way around the four walls, the chilled air inside, the-

Wilbur suddenly realized how cold it was inside. He looked at the fire pit in the center of it all with frustration. It would have to be lit sooner this year, maybe even tonight. Of all the seasons, winter was the one Wilbur hated the most because of how impossible living conditions were, let alone the sheer vulnerability and complete inability to fight. Being the leader of these people, he had to reassure everyone that everything was going to be ok, but in reality he was always on edge during the snowy months.

Wilbur looked up from the fire pit to the door, where the first resident silently stood in the frame.

“Will,” The resident stepped through the door, struggling to get his giant wings through the average-sized frame. “Tommy knocked on my door saying you were calling a meeting. If this is another prank of his, it’ll be the third time this month.” Wilbur chuckled.

“Keeping track, eh Phil?” Wilbur sat at the head of the Community House, right before the fire pit and directly across from the door. He gestured for Phil to sit. He did, tightly yet effortlessly folding his black wings behind him.

“Oh yeah, been keeping track since he was 10.” Phil said. “He’s always been a trickster, but at some point I decided to start keeping count. It’s been keeping me busy.” Wilbur nodded with a smile. It was true.

Philza was the wisest person Wilbur knew, and that wasn’t just bias because Phil was his father. Out of everyone Wilbur had ever met (and he met a lot of people), Phil was the one that taught him the most, from how to hunt and skin a deer, to how to flirt with the ladies. Regrettably, he was teaching all this wisdom and advice to Tommy since Wilbur had heard everything he had to say.

“What’s the meeting for this time?” Phil asked after a moment of silence. Wilbur snapped back to reality and realized he had been zoning out. He looked at Phil.

“I want to give all the details once everyone is here,” Wilbur said. “But it’s about the coming winter.” Phil nodded in understanding.

“Ah,” He said. And that was all. Phil was probably the only one who understood the stress Wilbur was under, for he was the leader of this town before Wilbur was. Usually a position of power is given to someone else when the current leader passes away, but Phil didn’t want to wait until his deathbed to teach Wilbur how to properly and successfully lead an army and protect his people. Instead, he retired from his position to teach Wilbur everything he knew. Many people, including himself and Wilbur, would agree that he did a good job raising a pretty awesome kid and leader.

“Tommy said there was a town meeting,” A young woman with pink hair came through the door and sat herself down on one of the benches.

“Yes, I told him to round everyone up for me,” Wilbur said. “I’m glad you could join us, Niki. I hope I didn’t disturb your baking.”

“No, you didn’t disturb me at all,” Niki said. “I actually just pulled a batch of muffins out of the oven. I put them by the window to cool right as Tommy knocked on my door.”

“Ah, perfect! Make sure to ration some of those for winter.” Wilbur said.

“Winter?” Niki asked. “Isn’t that still two months away?”

“...Well-”

“What flavour are the muffins?” Phil asked. Wilbur silently sighed and looked at Phil in thanks. He always somehow knew the right time to insert himself into the conversation.

“Blueberry. They were the last I had of what we picked this year. Any longer and they would’ve gone bad.”

“Good,” Phil said. “With winter coming into our sights soon, it's good to conserve food as much as possible. Those blueberries will last a little longer in those muffins.” Niki nodded.

“You’ll have to split one with me after the meeting.” Wilbur said, smiling at Niki.

“Of course!” Niki replied. “I’ll make sure to set aside the best one for you.”

Niki was the sweetest and kindest person Wilbur knew. You’ll never meet a more caring soul. She spent most of her time baking and making food for the whole village. It was mostly her work to make rations for winter. If it wasn’t for Niki, everyone would’ve died of hunger during the first snow.

“And you remembered to put out the fire in the oven this time, right?” Phil leaned his elbows on his knees and adjusted his wings. Niki gave a nervous laugh.

“Yes, yes!” Niki buried her face into her hands in embarrassment. “How could I forget after nearly burning down the whole village?”

“Hey, I already said don’t worry about that,” Wilbur said. “It was an honest mistake. And as the saying goes, ‘we learn from our mistakes’.”

“Yes, I recall you saying the exact same thing on that day.” Niki moved her hands down and rested her chin on them. The three of them laughed as they looked back on that day, which then was nearly a disaster, but now was just a funny story.

“Hey guys!” Another man entered the building. His hair was brown and curly, and he wore a navy blue dress that went all the way down to his ankles. Over the dress was a grey, light-weight jacket.

“Eret!” Wilbur greeted.

Eret was the plant-keeper. She didn’t want the title of a farmer because it sounded like he did more work than he actually did. So, his title was made the plant-keeper. During summer, he grew plants that grew various kinds of food, and that was when the plants most flourished. But during winter however, Eret had to do everything he could to make sure they were at the very least still alive for the next summer. It was a miracle if one or two of the plants could make a single serving of food during the snow.

“Welcome to the group! Stylish as always I see.” Niki said. Eret looked down at the dress he was wearing and gave a quick spin. The dress's thick fabric flew into the air effortlessly.

“Ah, ya know. I gotta present myself nicely to the plants.” Eret said, taking a seat beside Niki.

“Speaking of the plants, how’s the greenhouse going?” Wilbur asked. Eret copied Phil and rested his elbows on his knees.

“Very well, actually! Just a few more weeks with fall temperatures and we’ll be all set for winter.” Wilburs expression dropped. He cleared his throat.

“Has Tubbo been helping you?” He asked.

“Yes,” Eret replied. “He’s been a great help, especially with his ability. It’s made things move along much faster.”

“Good.” Wilbur said, folding his hands on his lap. “Once Tubbo gets here, I’ll discuss it further. He’s the only one left besides-”

Tommy burst through the door arguing with a boy who looked about the same age as him.

“What the fuck were you doing Tubbo!?” Tommy yelled.

“I was trying to get into his house! Meanwhile you were trying to burn his house down!” Tubbo yelled back.

“Yes because all he does is sleep all day and Wilbur told me to get everyone!”

“You were going to kill him Tommy!”

“Hey!” Wilbur stood up and everybody looked up at him. Tommy and Tubbo stopped fighting and stood still. “First of all, stop arguing with each other! Especially in the Community House! This is not a place to be joking around, do I make myself clear?” Tommy and Tubbo nodded, but Tommy was more hesitant. “Good. Second of all, Tubbo, explain what happened.”

“I was trying to-” Tommy began, but Wilbur put a hand up to stop him.

“I didn’t ask you.” Wilbur said calmly. “I asked Tubbo.” Tommy looked at the ground with the same energy as a 2 year old about to have a temper tantrum. Wilbur looked at Tubbo.

“Well,” Tubbo started. “Tommy knocked on my door saying a meeting was happening and that he was put in charge to tell everyone about it. I asked if there was anyone else he needed to visit and he said George. So I offered to come with him, just because.” Wilbur nodded. “We got to George's house, Tommy knocked, but nobody answered the door. A few more knocks, still no response, and Tommy started getting... impatient.”

“I was not-!” Tommy tried defending himself but Wilbur gave him a stern look that made him stop talking again. He looked back at Tubbo.

“So I proposed we could calmly go inside to see if he was ok, but Tommy interpreted that as ‘use my ability to cause the most amount of damage I can get away with’. I stopped him before he could do anything.” Of course he did, Wilbur thought with a sigh.

“Thank you for controlling him, Tubbo,” Wilbur said, sitting himself down again. “You two can have a seat.” Tubbo sat beside Phil, and Tommy sat beside Tubbo. Tommy was angrily mumbling to himself. “And Tommy, could you do me another favour,” Wilbur said. Tommy looked up, still pissed. “Would you mind lighting up the fire pit?” Tommy looked confused.

“What do you mean? It’s still October. We don’t light the pit until late November.”

“I said what I said. Light it, and I’ll explain.” Tommy rolled his eyes but did as he was told. With a flick of his wrist, sparks and flame emerged from his hand and engulfed the few pieces of wood and charcoal that remained from last year's winter. It wasn’t much, but there was enough fire there to heat up the building to a good room temperature. Wilbur cleared his throat.

“As you all know, it usually doesn’t snow until December. Late November at the earliest…” Wilbur looked around the room and could already see people's faces change as they realized what was happening. It wasn’t as hard as telling someone the news that someone they know has passed away, but it was still hard because it meant telling your loved ones that just simply surviving will be a lot harder this year. Wilbur continued speaking.

“And, as always, I’ve been taking weekly trips into the deep forest to examine the natural changes of the environment. This time around however…” Wilbur looked to Phil for support. Phil simply took a deep breath and gestured Wilbur to keep talking. Wilbur did exactly that. After a deep breath, he continued.

“It seems like the snow will be coming a lot sooner than other years.” Everyone had different reactions, but they all had one thing in common: worry. Everyone started either talking to themselves or the person beside them. And, as per the duty of any good leader, he needed to reassure them that everything was going to be ok, despite all the odds.

“But, I’ve already created some plans of what we can do to make sure this winter is just as good as the ones before.” Everyone looked up with intrigued and hopeful expressions. “However, it requires everybody's effort and ability.” Everyone nodded in agreement, and Wilbur was now hopeful himself.

“Firstly, Tubbo and Eret, the people on greenhouse duty.” Tubbo and Eret straightened and paid close attention. “Eret, you said with a few more weeks, the plants will be strong enough to withstand winter. However, I don’t think we have weeks. I predict we’ll have snow in the next 5 days.” Eret and Tubbo looked at each other with a common thought. How are we gonna pull this off?

“Tubbo, your ability is Earth, meaning you are especially knowledgeable about different types of dirt, fertilizers, and more. With the little time we have left, I’m requesting you find something that will make the plants grow faster to be prepared by next week.”

“Yes sir.” Tubbo replied.

“Eret, with your ability of light manipulation, I need you to store as much light as possible, more than what you normally prepare. With winter starting earlier, we should expect it to last longer too.”

“Of course.” Eret replied.

“Phil, if it starts snowing before the plants are ready, it’s your job to use your air ability for as long as you can to keep snow away from the greenhouse. And if it’s also possible, see if you can keep a piece of the sky cloud free so we don’t have to use up the stored light source right away.”

“Can do.” Phil replied, stretching his wings back.

“Niki and Tommy, I need you to scavenge for as much scrap food as possible. If you can find more ingredients for your baking Niki, even better. As I said before, we should expect this winter to last longer, so we need to prepare more.”

“Got it.” Niki replied.

“I have a question,” Tommy said. “By food scraps, do you mean like… dead rats and birds?” Wilbur sighed.

“Unfortunately, yes. But it will only be a last resort if we run out of our main rations.”

“Ugh, alright.” Tommy groaned. “Niki and I will be on the lookout for dead shit.”

“Fantastic.” Wilbur clapped his hands together and looked around the room. “Does everybody have a job?” Everybody collectively nodded, but Niki raised her hand.

“What about George?” She asked. “He isn’t here, so what’s his job?”

“Don’t worry about George.” Wilbur said. “Once dismissed, Phil and I will stop by his house.” Wilbur looked at Phil and he nodded. “Any other questions?” The room fell silent. “Alright, that’s that! Meeting dismissed.” Everyone stood up from their seats and started making their way to the door. Tubbo and Eret went to each other to discuss their job, as did Niki and Tommy. Wilbur and Phil were left alone in the Community House together.

“What do you have in mind for George?” Phil asked. Wilbur sighed as he got up from the bench.

“Well, because George doesn’t have an ability like the rest of us, his job will be a little easier, but just as important. He’ll be in charge of making sure the pathways and trails in the town and forest are clean before the snow comes. And when the snow does come, I’ll have him help shovel the snow off the roads.” Wilbur made his way to the door and turned to wait for Phil, who was only getting up now.

“Makes sense,” Phil said. “But why do you need me?” Wilbur and Phil started walking through the town.

“You’re aware of what my ability is, right?” Wilbur asked.

“Of course, mind reading. It was a big problem when you were younger, you know. I could never keep a secret.”

“Yeah, sorry about that.” Wilbur laughed. “But I’ve been noticing George has been missing more and more meetings due to his ‘sleep schedule’.”

“And you think it's not just that?”

“Yes.”

“But what else could he possibly be doing?”

“I never like to assume. I need more proof first.” Wilbur and Phil stopped in front of a house with red accents. One could say it looked like a mushroom house, a little home for fairies.

Wilbur knocked on the door with enough force that if anybody was sleeping, they definitely would have woken up.

“George!” Wilbur yelled. “Wake up! I got a job for you!” No response. Phil came up to the door.

“George!” Phil knocked harder than Wilbur did. Still no response.

“We need to go in.” Wilbur said. He turned the door handle, but it stopped with a sudden halt. “It’s locked.”

“Here, let me try.” Phil stepped in front of the door and took a deep breath. In the blink of an eye, his foot was floating in an open doorway. Phil calmly walked in. Wilbur stood outside in confusion for a moment, but stepped in soon after.

“George!” Wilbur called again. The main area of the house, which was the kitchen and living area, was empty. The only other place in the house was his bedroom. Wilbur slowly opened the door.

George’s bedroom was actually quite nice. A small, quaint room with shelves filled with antiques and found treasures and a bed with a red and white dotted blanket. The blanket was not flat though. There was something under it.

“George!” Wilbur went into the room and came beside the bed. Phil came through the door and watched. “George! How heavy of a sleeper are you, man?” Wilbur stripped the blankets off the bed. It wasn’t George under the sheets. It was a pile of pillows made to look like a human.

Wilbur looked at Phil.

They both knew.

~~~

George’s cloak caught on the barren branches as he ran blindly through the thick forest. He was used to having a trail to guide him, or a map at the very least, but not this time. The place he wanted to go was only marked as no-man's-land on all the maps he’d seen. He was headed in the general direction, but he didn’t have a specific route to follow. So blindly he ran, his cloak being wrecked and snagged by the trees around him.

Unlike the others, George didn’t have a power, or an ability as they called it. He was just a normal guy, and all he wanted was a life of luxury and peace. George always felt he was belittled and not taken seriously enough when living in Wilburs town. He was seen as the weak one. The useless one. The burden that others were forced to carry on their shoulders. So he went to the only other place he knew. To the people Wilbur constantly worried about. Wilbur was going to worry about George now, but not in the way of pity. For the first time in his life, George understood what power felt like.

It didn’t last long.

George stopped in his tracks when he heard a rustle in the bush beside him.

“Hello?” George said, creeping towards the bush. “Who’s there?” An arrow burst through the leaves, stopping only mere inches away from George’s throat. The person holding the bow emerged from the shrubbery, not taking his eyes off George.

“State your business.” The man with the bow said. George was still in shock from the life-or-death situation he found himself in, he was unable to speak. “Now!” He said. “Before I shoot this right into your throat!”

“Ok, ok!” George put his hands up for the man to see. “I’ve come to visit your leader. I have no weapons or ill intentions. I just want to talk.” The man slightly lowered his bow and looked at George’s face more carefully.

“...George?” Unfortunately, George was pretty oblivious most of the time.

“...yes?” He responded. A smile came across the man's face and he dropped his bow to give George a hug.

“George!” The man pulled away. “It’s me! Fundy!”

“Fundy?” George hadn’t seen Fundy since he was a small child. Wilbur would put George in charge of babysitting him when everyone else was busy. But now that he heard the name, George saw it: the fox-obsessed boy that could talk to animals. “Fundy! Oh my god! How are you?”

“Ah, well, surviving like everyone else.” Fundy said, picking up his bow again. “How about you?”

“About the same, I guess.” George said. “But I’m trying to look for a better place where I can live my life.” Fundy became skeptical.

“Did Wilbur send you? Is this some sort of way for him to get information on us?”

“No,” George replied. “Nobody knows I’m here, but nobody would care if I was gone either. That’s why I want to talk to your leader.” Fundy thought about it for a moment.

“You would have to be checked for weapons.” Fundy said.

“That’s fine.”

“You would have to be escorted by as many guards as they see fit.”

“That’s fine.”

“Are you sure you want to do this?”

“I’ve never been more sure of anything.”

Fundy walked George through the forest until they got to a town, but it was nothing like Wilbur’s. There were many more buildings, all of them bigger than the ones back home. They were made of concrete bricks instead of sticks and stones. It was better than George could’ve ever imagined.

A resident saw George and Fundy and ran towards them.

“Fundy,” He said. “What’s going on?”

“He’s requested to see the leader.” Fundy gestured to George. “I already checked for weapons.”

“And?”

“None, Technoblade. George said he just wanted to talk with him and nothing more.” Technoblade thought for a moment and then called for some more people. He looked back at George and Fundy.

“You may take… George, you said?” Fundy nodded. “You may take George to see him with two other guards. If anything goes wrong, it’ll go on your record.” Two other men came up beside George while Fundy took the front.

“Yes sir.” Fundy said, leading George to what looked like their version of the Community House.

It was a large building, possibly bigger than all of Wilbur’s buildings combined. It looked old and tested by nature, but it still held strong. Fundy, George, and the two other guards went in.

Large fire-lit torches hung on the walls inside the giant building, and in the center was a table that took up most of the building. Strewn on it were maps, weapons, and small bottles of god-knows-what. George didn’t dare ask what it was.

At the head of this table was the man George was looking for. He stood hunched over a piece of paper on the table with a quill in hand. Even without doing anything, his presence was the scariest thing George had ever witnessed.

“Sir,” Fundy stepped forward. “There’s someone here who wishes to speak with you.” The man at the table looked up and straightened to get a better look. Suddenly what looked like a 4 foot tall dwarf was a 6 foot tall warrior. George’s throat tightened.

“Is that so?” With the quill still in his hand, he walked over to George. “What’s your name?”

“G-George.” He stammered out. The man with the quill raised a brow as he stopped in front of George, just inches away from him.

“You’re from the other side of the forest, right?” He stroked the underside of George’s chin with the soft feather which made George instinctively look up at him. “That’s a long way, especially for a one-man army.”

“No, you’ve got it all wrong. I haven’t come to fight. I have no weapons, I…” George swallowed as the man leaned in closer. “I’d like to offer my services to you.” George said.

“I want to join you, Dream.”

[sticky-wicket-urn]

County Championship Round Up

Toby Reynolds, 27/04/2021

Three weeks into the championship and we have had double hundreds, hat-tricks and games delayed by snow. The only thing we have failed to see is a Surrey win.

A Thousand Runs by the End of May?

This has arguably been the most batting friendly start to a season in a while. In the first three weeks, there have been four double hundreds, thirteen 400+ scores by all counties and Haseeb Hameed now holds the record for the most balls faced in a County Championship match. I am not sure many people would have guessed this would be the start to the season.

Furthermore, six of the top seven run scorers are from “Division Two” sides, yet again showing why maybe this system of the County Championship could be the way forward. Personally I really like this system with three conferences as it allows any team a chance to win the whole competition and also doesn’t belittle the smaller sides and force any player with international ambitions to move to a “Division 1” county.

Now, back to the top runs scorers: David Beddingham, a twenty-seven year old, South African born, middle order batsman, who plays for Durham, has taken the top spot from former England opener Adam Lyth. Beddingham scored a magnificent 257 against Derbyshire in a tight draw. He moved to Durham as an overseas player last year and struck a career-best 180 not out against Nottinghamshire. These large scores have helped to keep his first class average above 50 and impress at county level.

There have also been three other double hundreds. Surrey and England young gun, Ollie Pope, scored 245 on a fairly flat track against Leicestershire in a game which petered out for a draw. The other two were scored by two players who have been dropped by England in the past. James Vince (13 tests) and Tom Westly (5 tests) both batted brilliantly for their double tons. Vince helped Hampshire to a great win, also against Leicestershire, by an innings and 105 runs. Both Tom Alsop and Liam Dawson scored hundreds in the match. Westly’s runs came against Worcestershire, where both sides passed 470 in their first innings, leading to a draw with almost a thousand runs in the match.

However, I think my favourite moment to come out of the first three weeks of the tournament has got to be Haseeb Hameed coming back into form. He scored one fifty in the first two matches but dominated in the final match with opening partner, Ben Slater. Hameed not only top scored in Nottinghamshire’s first innings with 111, but then batted out over a day with his partner for 114* to draw the match after Notts were made to follow on. Although Hameed has started the championship well since his short stint with England, this bodes well for the rest of the tournament if he can keep up this amazing start.

Green Seamers in Early April

It has not just been the batsmen who have been dominating though. Three potential English seamers are topping the wicket takers list, as well as two spinners. 

Ollie Robinson, a right-arm medium fast bowler for Sussex is currently the leading wicket taker with 20, after taking 9-78 in the second innings vs Glamorgan to help Sussex win by eight wickets. Robinson has been in and around the England set up over the past couple years, staring in England Lion’s victory in Australia. Robinson lead the attack with Craig Overton (who is joint second on the leading wicket takers with 17. Neither are especially quick but their accuracy combined with skill make it extremely hard for batsmen. 

Another major talking point for the second round of the County Championship was Mohammed Abbas’ hat-trick against Middlesex. Abbas took the wickets of Holden and Gubbins at the end of the second over, before getting Eskinazi in the first ball of fourth over to complete the hat-trick. He then continued to rip through the order and finished with 6-11 from elven overs, before Hampshire pilled on more runs. Abbas then came back in the final innings to take another three, along with opening partner Kyle Abbot.

Other leading wicket takers are Simon Harmer and Matt Parkinson. The two spinners have 17 and 15 wickets respectively. Harmer has dominated the County Championship for Essex since arriving ahead of the 2017 season as a Kolpak player but impressed so much he has retained his spot an an international. Parkinson, on the other hand, has struggled to get consistent games, and therefore wickets, with the red ball. However, he has really been given an opportunity this year, taking what could be the ball of the century in Round 2 and then a seven-fer in the second innings against Kent in Round 3 to mop up the tail and take victory for Lancashire by an innings and five runs. 

Ryan Higgins is the only other top wicket taker we have failed to mention. The Gloucester seamer, who is hotly tipped to be a possible replacement for the injured Ben Stokes, has taken 17 wickets and scored a fifty, helping his team to two wins and draw with three three-fers and two four-fers. His batting is arguably not quite strong enough to be a like-for-like replacement for Stokes but if Buttler and Pope shift up the order, then he may be able to bat at seven or eight with Chris Woakes. 

Standings

Warwickshire are currently topping Group 1, unbeaten on 53 points. They drew with Derbyshire in the first week but have since beaten Essex and Nottinghamshire comfortably. Worcestershire are second but without a win. They have drawn their three matches to the same sides Warwickshire have faced. The rest of the group is in tight competition: all sides are within one win of each other.

Group 2 is more spread out. Top of the table Hampshire are forty points ahead of Leicestershire, who prop up the conference. What was considered the hardest group has definitely lived up to its reputation with 2019 County Championship winners, Surrey, without a win and struggling to find consistent runs. 

Group 3 is similarly spaced with the two Roses clubs, Lancashire and Yorkshire sitting at the top of the table unbeaten, while Glamorgan and Kent have failed to get a win.

It is hard to predict what will happen over the next few months of the season, but my prediction is that the six sides making it to Division 1 will be:

Essex

Warwickshire

Hampshire

Gloucestershire

Lancashire

Yorkshire

[fictional-worlds-are-exquisite]

agajsksns not gonna lie being 10 feet tall sounds awesome. i have no idea how tall that is because the only thing i know about feet (that sounds so wrong) is that google is telling me that i'm 5'6 (sorry to disappoint). which is. average height right? well it doesn't feel like it coz my best friends are giants. they're both 180+ cm tall and they constantly make fun of me for being short. but honestly i win because i can always make them reach things for me.

thank you! that's very sweet, i actually only saw your reply like 20 minutes before the new year so it was right on time! i loved writing to you and waiting to hear back as well, you're a really fun person to talk to!

i know you probably won't see this for a couple of weeks before going on holiday, but have fun!

i laughed really hard at the picture my brain conjured up when reading about you dropping the vampire act and starting to pretend to be a mouse, just straight up scurrying up to the houses on all fours in a bathrobe is hilarious. i'd pay to see that. and yeah! me either. the number of times i've gone outside at night is probably like 3. that's counting that time when i went for ice cream at 11pm to the store on the other side of the street in my pajamas and then had to turn back because it apparently closes at 10 pm. that was a pretty big disappointment

a halloween themed birthday party sounds awesome! it's sort of disappointing though that you can barely remember it. the only themed birthday party i had (or at least the only one that i remember) was princess themed because i was on my princess faze back then (i was 5 or 6 i think). i still remember the sheer joy i felt at being able to wear a long fancy dress. it was brilliant

oh yeah! i'm still slightly scared of blenders because of that time. now anytime i even put my fingers close to the blade i unplug it first. also i saw you got a blender? i think we have one that's similar to the one you described. so i have a couple of suggestions! i like to make banana "ice cream". you just cut up a banana into pieces and freeze it, (i have no idea how long it takes to freeze i just generally always have frozen bananas in my freezer) then you take them out, let them sit for 10 minutes (to not break the blender when you use it) and blend them. i sometimes add frozen berries or peanut butter too! depending on what i want that day. it's great, especially because i'm slightly lactose intolerant too and i absolutely love ice cream. you can also make smoothies as you said. i usually put in mine whatever fruit we have, generally apples, bananas and oranges or grapefruits. or if i'm making one for breakfast (which i know you can't, but this is just a generally more filling option i think?) i also add spinach. you can't really feel the taste but it's supposed to be good for you and it fills you up more (it does make the smoothie super green though!). but yeah i pretty much just mix and match anything i have! also: milkshakes. ice cream, berries (optional) and milk! super easy and my little cousins love it when they visit!

ohhh your grater also seems to be out to get you. i bet it's really painful if it actually falls on your feet, because like metal. on foot. ouch. especially if it hits you with a corner! and i would definitely also get surprised every time it happened no matter how many times it did! bifocal glasses do not sound fun either tho. i would constantly forget how to use them and probably would just get headache really fast too! i get a headache from my normal glasses when i wear them (i usually wear contacts) so bifocal ones would be even worse i bet.

exactly. i had no idea what "hot" means. i thought you were supposed to use it when you thought a person was aesthetically pleasing? or like you thought they look cute? i dunno. i used it a couple of times before i realised that was not what that meant and then i was just like uhhhh yeah i'm gonna delete that word from my vocab. yeah! i think that ace and probably aro too are pretty hard to figure out because it's the lack of something.

ahahsksns i can imagine tiny Lindsey waking up on Christmas morning and running to the window expecting snow in the middle of summer and it's so funny! i can't say anything though because we have this saying in lithuanian which is used essentially when someone does something unexpected and unusual for them so you say "it's gonna snow tomorrow". as in "wow, [name] did [something super unexpected from them], it must be snowing tomorrow" (because like those are equally unexpected things i guess? but it's said in winter too so it's just something you say whenever, i'm sorry it's hard to explain!) but yeah a figure of speech. and anytime i heard that, even in the middle of summer, the next morning i'd run to my window and look for snow and when there was none, i'd just stare accusatorily at my parents. like wow, i can't believe you lied/let someone lie to me

horse races sound fun, i've never been to one though! and a picnic luch sounds awesome! i love picnics but we have them very rarely, i definitely think we should have them more often

and yeah, i get that acid reflux more of an annoyance than a problem but still! i completely agree with you about peanut butter though. it's amazing, i could eat it everyday

I know exactly how tall 10 feet is purely because I’m 5 foot so two of me is 10 foot. I barely know feet but I got used to people being confused when I was like oh, I’m 155cm! so I learnt what my height was in feet but I can really only visualise heights when I put them into centimetres. Someone can be like I’m 6 foot! and that’s great but I don’t have the faintest idea how tall that actually is. 182cm on the other hand is easy. that’s just like one ruler above my height. I can picture that. 5 foot 6 is probably average but as a short person, I consider you tall. That really isn’t saying much at my height but still sdflshdfks. Biggest benefit of tall best friends is indeed making them reach high things though. 

And now we’re almost three weeks into the new year. Time seems to be flying this year. This is a very late reply indeed sdfjhskdfs. I did see this before I left but didn’t have time to reply, thank you though! I did have lots of fun. I had some birds try to invade the unit up in Orewa and I had a dotterel (I think) follow me along the beach at Ngarimu Bay playing some sort of red light green light game with me (it only moved closer and started following me again when I looked away) and I think a blackbird started some sort of mating performance at me which was flattering but uhhhh I’m a bit of a big bird mate. Maybe choose someone else. there was also beaches and gorgeous views etc etc but birds, y’know. birds.

i would 100% do that for money with no regrets. on one hand I could get a job and contribute to society. on the other hand I could do that as my main income. not a hard choice. hire me by the hour to freak your family and friends out. i have no respect for myself i’ll do it to anyone for the right price. damn. only closed one hour earlier. that’s a massive disappointment. i was out at night willingly for my high school prom and for a creative writing night at my uni and inside a car if that counts when I think my family was travelling back from the south island when I was younger. So three times that come to mind. Oh. And if stupid camp burma trails count then add a few times to that but those were not night outings I did willingly.

I can barely remember most of my life, I just assume it happened and I wasn’t just planted here at 12 years old as an alien spy. Anything’s possible though. I remember my birthday cakes more than my birthday parties to be honest with you. My mum always made the cake and when I was young she’d make fun designs. A bee, a bat, a swimming pool and a cat come to me off the top of my head. They were mostly just sponge cats but she cut them and iced them expertly. A princess-themed party seems like a very fun type of party for kids who like that. Kids always seem very happy to dress up in pretty dresses and cool outfits to attend those kinds of parties. I can imagine the joy. I know my little cousin looooves that sort of thing, and her brother isn’t willing to be left out either

thank god you unplug it first now sdfjhsdf that’s incredibly reassuring. Ooo thank you for those suggestions!!! this is great!! I was wanting to try something with bananas and that sounds easy enough. I had an apple and feijoa smoothie while I was away on holiday and all I want is another one of those. So I’m very very very interested in trying out fruit smoothies now because they seem like they can be very very tasty. Spinach seems like such an odd thing to add but I’ve heard that several times now so clearly it’s a thing. I don’t think I’ve ever even had spinach. I’ll keep it in mind though. I suppose if I just try whatever fruit we have on hand eventually I’ll get something that tastes good. I have dairy free ice cream and dairy free milk so it seems like this could work out for me in a way where I’m not regretting my entire life. Normally when I go near a milkshake I regret the day I was born.

It isn’t a super heavy grater but I have intense survival instincts every now and then so it hasn’t actually hit my foot yet. I go diving in the other direction. But I think if it did I’d probably curse a few times before moving on with my life. I don’t think it’d be THAT bad. But I live in fear regardless. oh no. do your normal glasses have a slightly wrong prescription or is this just a thing that happens when you normally wear contacts,,, I’ve never worn contacts because I fear touching my squishy eyeball and also I think my shitty eyesight is too awkward for contacts so I have no idea if that’s a thing.

oh yes haha hot has been solidly deleted from my vocab for many years except in terms of temperature. It has a word that has never naturally come to mind and I’m sure it never will. It just seems weird when I use it. 

I was a fool of a child and absolutely nothing has changed there! I mean I know how hemispheres work now but I’m still a dumbass at heart. Hahahahahaha oh nooooo. That’s incredible but oh noooo. I get what you mean by the saying though, that’d make a lot of sense here honestly since it never snows ever. Locally, at least. 

i think horse races are just a form of betting and losing money that is frowned upon less than actual buildings based on gambling and such. I mean I only ever attended those ones, idk if all horse races are like that, but I know there was buying tickets for whatever horse you thought would win, and if they did you got money, if they didn’t you lost money. I don’t think it was a whole lot of money ? just like a few bucks ? but maybe you could choose to bet more ? I really don’t remember how it worked, I just remember accidentally finding a ticket on the ground and handing it in only to receive some money because the horse won. I think it was like 5 or 10 bucks which seemed like a LOT to my kid self. picnic lunches are fun though. my family keeps a tartan blanket in the back of the car that we use whenever we have picnics and also whenever we get takeaways (we put it in the middle of the lounge floor as the rest of my family eats fish and chips and I eat sushi, normally). But we don’t have as many as we used to. They are fun though.

can confirm i do eat peanut butter everyday and it goes brilliantly.

[celestinaruns]

The joys, pains, and everything in between of conquering a 50 miler

Things I learned this week: telling people you ran 80 km in a day tends to get ta consistently shocked reaction, with the occasional person questioning your sanity.

That is definitely not a typo. 80 km, 12 hours, and nothing but love for every moment of it. While I only just got into ultra running this year, I fell in love at first... sign of debilitating pain that keeps me in bed cuddled up with a bag of Sweet Chili Heat Doritos and yet another season episode of The Walking Dead. And, like all firsts, this past weekend gave me a lot to reflect on.

This summer has been a busy one for my running endeavours. I have tacked on more long-distance races than usual and ran my first two ultras, just within three months of each other. When I ran my 50 km at River Valley Revenge in June, I was unprepared. An understatement, to say the least. Yes, I was familiar with what my body needs during a long run and made sure to put in all the mileage I could, but there’s a huge mental game to ultra trail running that I had entirely missed. I had had no idea just how technical trails could get and hadn’t realized that my trusty energy gels, a great pick-me-up in every road marathon I had run before then, were not going to do the trick here. My first ultra was less one of success and more one of learning lessons... the hard way.

I did learn them, though, and I applied them as best as I could. It was with that ambition that I registered for the 80 km event at River’s Edge Ultra. That, and the desire to go camping before snow hit, to be perfectly honest.

Okay, I could have just gone camping. It was mostly ambition.

The months leading up to REU were... great, really. I trained smart, put in the work, and modified my nutrition and running habits until everything felt just right. I had very few tough runs and felt ready to go--right up until the very last week when I caught a cold. Talk about shit timing.

My entire last week of tapering was out the window at this point as I tried to nurse myself back to health as quickly as possible. Dreams of crushing the 80k turned more into hopes of just finishing the 80k. Still, by some miracle, when Friday rolled around, all I had left was a little bit of congestion. There was some hope yet that I wouldn’t crash and burn and inevitably DNF.

I made my way over to Parkland County on Friday evening, grabbed my bib, and set up camp. It was all going smoothly, and with the peacefulness of the untouched ravines and quiet farmlands, I felt the calmest I had felt in the last week. Although there was a stressful day ahead of me, I was able to take some moments to enjoy the little slice of heaven that was so close to the city.

Despite that, sleep was restless and interrupted, as it usually is the night before a race, and I felt as groggy, rushed, and unprepared as ever as I tried to get all my gear on and double checked that I had everything in my drop kit.

Worst of all, though, it was cold.

It was supposed to warm up later in the day, yes, but the morning air was biting at whatever exposed skin I had--which was a lot, because for all of my planning, I hadn’t accounted for just how cold it would be in the dark. I had three headlamps and I had reflective bracelets and extra batteries. Clearly, I was aware it would be dark, just not experienced enough to bring any more layers aside from my bright orange reflective arm warmers.

But hey--reflective!

I huddled close to the bonfire before the start, right up until the last possible moment. Standing around in my shorts and singlet and my measly arm warmers, I was beating myself up for not thinking head. What a lousy start.

But I had learned from my 50k, hadn’t I? Ultra running took a lot of mental strength, and it was that reminder that pushed all of those negative thoughts out of my mind and replaced them with much better ones. The first loop is only 9 km. Move steady and you’ll warm up in no time. By the time the start was announced, I felt ready as ever.

The first and shortest loop went by in around an hour. I wasn’t in a rush, that had been my goal from the very beginning. No point in bursting out the gates, especially not with my congestion still sticking around. Still, that loop was all I needed. After that, I was warm and pumped up. One loop at a time, and I had no doubt I would be rolling into that finish strong.

The beauty of this course was that, with each loop, I got to make my way back to the race headquarters to replenish everything. I would get a chance to grab food, replenish my pack, and have anything I needed to be looked after by a volunteer. With a very over-prepared drop kit, all I really needed to worry about, as the racer, was making sure that I could take on those loops. All I had to do was focus on running. Throughout the day, the distances of each one passed through my mind, like a little reminder that I was inching closer to the end. 19 km, 19 km, 20 km, 12 km. Repeat.

I ate more during this race than my 50k, which is a very good thing. During ultras, it is recommended that runners eat an average of 300 calories an hour, and while during marathons I can pop back a gel, solid food is a much better option when you’re going all day. I discovered that pancakes and bacon sat great with my easily disturbed stomach, as did cherry cola flavoured Honey Stingers. Even after a 20 km loop with a brutal elevation gain, I felt mentally ready to take on the last leg of the race.

Managing to adequately calm myself down, I set out once more, power-walking my way up a hill as I popped back some Honey Stingers. My heart rate was slowing down to something more manageable instead of feeling like Hammy in Over the Hedge. I spent a little more time at the aid station this time, enjoying the hot food that was now ready--perogies and meatballs. I hadn’t had that much protein in one bite all day.

Physically, though, the exhaustion was catching up with me. Just 10 km to go, I could feel the shakiness creep into my legs and a heaviness in my stomach. Still, this was a mental game, and I knew I couldn’t give up--so I got some calories in my stomach, popped an Advil, and set out once more.

It wasn’t long after I set out on my last loop, unfortunately, that something started to feel... wrong. Now, with less than 12 km to go--now was when things went south. I was getting nauseous, my heart rate wasn’t lowering at all despite the fact that I had reduced my speed to a walk, and the sun shining directly above me was oppressively hot. I had forgotten to grab a cap, of course, because something had to go wrong today.

I made my decision surprisingly easily. With over 5 hours until cut-off, DNFing was no longer an issue. Heatstroke was. I continued to walk instead of run and hydrated smart, focused solely on getting my heart rate down and getting rid of my nausea. Soon enough, I made it to the river crossing.

You read right. River crossing. No, not in a boat.

The current was going strong and I was instantly thankful that I had gone through that lifeguard training in high school. I had to wade through the North Saskatchewan River over to an island... which was exactly what I needed, it turned out. The cold water was like an ice bath for my legs. I wasn’t 100% yet, but I was definitely feeling better. I kept up the walking, made my way around the island, got some water dumped on my head, and by the time I was back on mainland, I felt just a bit more ready to finish this baby up.

Only four kilometres to go.

It was a doable loop back, but with my runner’s brain not really keeping track of anything and my watch in power saving mode, I didn’t really know how far I was progressing. At least, until I hit a large downhill, said fuck it and barrelled my way down it like a ten year-old, then rolled into the finishing chute with that momentum, gunning it across the finish line.

I hadn’t even realized I actually finished until I stopped and glanced around. In 12 hours and 18 minutes, I had my first 80 km ultra under my belt--and I was out of it. It almost sounds anticlimactic, describing it like that, but I can tell you right now that there is no sweeter feeling than finishing an ultra. After being on my feet all day, the realization that I was done was absolutely heavenly.

In a daze, I stumbled around for a bit before taking my boyfriend’s genius advice to sit down after running around for 12 hours. I showered, ate some food, enjoyed hot chocolate by the bonfire, and chatted with other runners and race volunteers as the evening turned to night. Just your average day of camping, right?

While my sleep before the race had been restless and interrupted, my sleep after the race was restful and deeper than Sleeping Beauty’s. Endorphins were still keeping the soreness at bay Sunday morning, so I enjoyed the last of the peaceful views and grabbed some breakfast before packing up camp and driving back home to the city.

... with my prizes in hand, of course.

It is safe to say that the soreness has more than caught up with me now, as has the complete lack of sodium in my body. And yet, I can’t help but smile every time I think back on the weekend. I smile because I’m proud of myself for finishing that 80 km (and feel ready to finish one in sub-11:00 some day soon) and that I got to accomplish that at such a great event. It is one that I will be returning to as often as I can, whether it’s as a runner or volunteer. I smile because I got to do another ultra, because this time I felt prepared and was able to enjoy every minute of it.

Most of all, though, I smile because it was just another day that I had the opportunity to appreciate the nature that makes up my backyard (figuratively) and the people that make up the running community. With the cold weather setting in and my fitness turning more towards crosstraining instead of running for the winter time, I could not have asked for a better end to my long racing season. It has me excited to recover and take on more ultra running in the upcoming year... with even more ambition and dreams than before.

[illicreatxm]

Jodie

—    basics.

▸     is    your   muse    tall    /   short    /    average?

Jodie is a smol bean. She’s 5′3″, so a couple of inches below average at least. And the thing is, she doesn’t wear heels often, so she definitely looks her height at all times. She just has a big personality to compensate.

▸     are    they   okay    with    their   height?

She’s okay with it in the sense that she can use her height to her own advantage and use it to intimidate people who are afraid of short gingers with tempers. She’s not okay with it if you use it against her. She will fight you if you do.

▸     what’s    their   hair    like?

Wonderfully ginger, and pretty straight. She prefers to keep it around shoulder length or in a bob, but more often than not she’s too lazy to go and get it cut so it’s tied up and away from her face in a bun.

▸     do    they   spend    a    lot   of    time    on   their    hair/grooming?

Not really. If it’s short, she does a quick straighten and comb and then she’s out of the house. If it’s long, she’s tying it up and out of her face really quickly, and often she ties it up on the go. She usually has other things on her mind, like the fact that she’s late for the second time that week and it’s only Tuesday.

▸     does   your   muse   care   about   their   appearance/what    others    think?

She really tries not to. After all, she sees herself as more of an athlete and prefers to put more effort into the things she can do, rather than what she looks like. But really, like Allie, she cares about what people think about her appearance. If someone calls her ugly, she’ll brush it off. but she does get hurt by that kind of thing.

—    preferences.

▸     indoors    or   outdoors? Outdoors

▸     rain    or   sunshine? Sunshine

▸     forest    or   beach? Forest

▸     precious    metals   or    gems? She’s naturally more drawn towards precious metals, in any of her verses. Of course, in powers it’s generally because she has some sort of control over them.

▸     flowers    or   perfumes? Flowers (again, in powers it’s because she can control them).

▸     personality    or   appearance?  Personality. Mostly because if they have a personality that can deal with hers, they’ll likely get on really well.

▸     being    alone   or    being    in   a    crowd? Definitely being in a crowd. She is usually the loudest voice, and you’d be looking around for the source

▸     order    or   anarchy? A tough one, but Jodie likes both depending on the situation. Regardless, she will be the first to cause chaos in any group.

▸  painful    truths    or   white    lies?  Painful truths. She would rather hear the truth than find out it was a lie later on.

▸     science    or   magic? Magic sounds a whole lot more appealing to her, in all honesty.

▸     peace    or   conflict? Jodie will be the first to dive straight into a conflict, but not because she likes it. She’s naturally the kind of person who wants to create peace asap. Even if you have to create conflict to get there.

▸     night    or   day?  Day.

▸     dusk    or   dawn?  Dusk. Jodie actually likes going for runs in the evening, especially as the sun sets.

▸     warmth    or   cold?  Warmth, though she burns in the summer and does far better in the winter, particularly when it snows.

▸     many   acquaintances    or    a   few    close    friends? A bit of both. She enjoys having those close to her that she can trust, but she also likes hanging with many people she calls “friends” but are really acquaintances, just to chill and joke around.

▸     reading    or   playing    a    game? Games, all the way. Jodie likes to be kept active, both physically and mentally. Give her a good game of Mario Kart, Twister, or (one of her personal favourites) Uno.

—    questionnaire.

▸     what    are   some    of    your   muse’s    bad    habits?

She is very loud and argumentative, and that can be off-putting for many. The only times you won’t catch her in her usual state are when she’s feeling vulnerable. She is also quick to insult and slow to apologise, and can be incredibly aggressive at times.

▸     has    your   muse    lost    anyone   close    to    them?     how    has   it    affected    them?

This usually depends on the verse, but in canon? Her father left her mum because he was, in her words, “a cheating bastard and mum deserved better”. Of course, not long after this, she left her ex at the altar because he was stealing from her. So really, her romantic trust in men has been damaged more than even she realises.

In powers, the next most developed verse I have for her, she still loses her dad and is pretty jaded about it, and she also ends up losing a member of their team, Bryce, who ends up becoming an antihero and a double-spy of sorts. Of course, she didn’t know this, initially thinking he’d turned evil, and in a way it’s made her a lot more ruthless with people who hurt others. Mostly because Bryce nearly killed Alex.

▸     what    are   some    fond    memories   your    muse    has?

Most of the memories are childhood memories, generally of her time with Allie and Mandy before they all moved away from each other. Meeting Allie for the first time, meeting Mandy for the first time, and various times they played at the park or in the playground together definitely come to mind. Of course, she also has some fond memories from secondary school, mostly of her messing around with her best friends, and more often than not they include Obed calling them all idiots as they all collapse laughing.

▸     is   it    easy    for   your    muse    to   kill?

In canon, no. She doesn’t want to kill. She does, however, know how to shoot.

In powers, it is easy. Theoretically. A flick of her wrist, and she could strangle someone with vines. But she would have to be very angry for that to happen, and she tries not to do anything beyond serious harm. She doesn’t want someone’s death on her conscience.

▸     what’s    it   like    when    your   muse    breaks    down?

Jodie often tries to shut herself away before she completely breaks down, but when she does she’s very quiet and generally very shaky. She’s also a lot more prone to being hurt by words, because she just absorbs everything people say as she breaks down.

▸     is    your   muse    capable    of   trusting    someone    with   their    life?

Yes, mostly because she needs to. She trusts her best friends because they’re her best friends, but she of all people knows that people have to be trusted to stay alive. Because she can’t watch her own back.

▸     what’s    your   muse    like    when   they’re    in    love?

Jodie tries to act nonchalant, she really does, but it doesn’t always work. She’s the kind to be a lot more brash and playful with the individual she likes, but overall she pays a lot more attention to them. The turning point, or the point where she realises that she’s also in love with them, is where she finds herself going to them for comfort instead of Allie or Mandy. Putting anyone above her best friends is a scary thing to her, and if she does that means you hold a special place in her heart.

Tagged by: @lokitheliesmith

Tagging: @astrologicallyperfect/@sxpersquad, @a-simple-rper, @mirror-image-rp, @sxilingthegalaxy, @damagedbyfate, @thegallantspirit/@parttimemuses, @musesofthenight, @detholmes, @thexcourageous and anyone else who would like to!

[kissmetae]

Blizzard

x Taehyung

AU: You and Taehyung both work as skiing instructors at a popular ski resort, teaching the very youngest kids how to ski. An interest is sparked in each other but in secrecy from the other. One evening the instructor team decided to get together for a movie night but it took a twist into a game of spin the bottle that resulted in heavy feelings of jealousy.

As a heavy snowstorm pulls in over the resort you’re all trapped indoors and meanwhile you and your friend Hoseok try to figure out a plan to make things go back to normal between you and Taehyung again. 

But things turned out completely unexpected, yet desired instead…

Fluff/smut | 13.2k | x reader

AO3 version | m.list

Disclaimer: This is fiction. Actions and events in these stories are often exaggerated and to a certain degree unrealistic.  Please have this in consideration when reading fiction, especially if it includes sexual content.

Rating: MATURE | sexual content, unprotected sex

NSFW features: VERY descriptive and detailed, dirty talk, oral and taking the energy out of big dick energy

A/N: This is a slowburner but not in the way you think.

The sun reflected brightly against the snow, making it sparkle.

It was the perfect weather to be out on the mountain, or well the base of it where the beginner slopes were.

You worked as a skiing instructor for kids at a popular ski resort.

You thanked yourself for remembering to put on sunscreen before you headed out, or else you’d for sure end up with an oddly shaped burn thanks to your helmet.

Your group was already eagerly waiting by the meeting point by the beginner slope. A mix of familiar and unfamiliar faces greeted you and you began to check of their names on your list and hand out vests for the newcomers.

The group you were responsible for were a level above absolute beginner, so most kids were a bit older. The absolute beginner group consisted of a lot younger children, so there was more play involved in learning and they mainly kept to the flatter section of the beginner slope.

The instructor for the absolute beginners was a tall young man with blonde hair, close to your age if not possibly the same age. He was standing a few meters away checking the assembly of his group.

He was wearing a big red jacket, the same as yours with “Instructor” written in white across the back and a pair of black ski pants. The only difference was that he was wearing a black hat instead of a white helmet like you. His long blonde locks peaked out from under the sides of the hat and he was smiling widely at the kids surrounding him on tiny skies.

Since the section your group practiced on was a bit steeper you had to be a good example for the kids and wear a helmet.

You and Taehyung, which was his name, were the only instructors stationed by the beginners slope. The other instructors were on the bigger slopes with the more experienced skiers.

Since this was the case, you and Taehyung would normally have lunch together between classes and had become more than fairly acquaintance.

You finished checking off their names and told them all about what you would focus on today before you headed towards the tiny lift with your group.

On the other side Taehyung was teaching the kids how to stand properly and stop before heading towards the lift with his group.

You made it to the top fast as the beginner slope wasn’t very long. First on the agenda was a tiny warm up or “Get used to the snow” run as you liked to call it where you all just skied down the hill in a straight line, no turns or slalom but just feeling the snow in a slow and controlled speed to feel more comfortable.

You headed down first and backwards, so you could watch your group.  

Being encouraging was important, if the kids got to hear that were doing good they quickly got a lot more comfortable and enjoyed the class a lot more. A little secret you had figured out early on.

You passed by Taehyung and his group and he shot a quick smile towards you, watching you slowly come to a halt at the end of the hill.

Was it the cold wind or did he suddenly make you blush?

You had to admit… he was a handsome sight and more often than you wanted to admit, he made your heart flutter a little…

You smiled for yourself shyly and redirected your attention to your students.

Time passed and both your classes came to an end. After each class you’d treat all the students to hot chocolate and then they’d all get picked up by their parents.

At the end of the week, or if a child advanced a level you’d always hand them a cute diploma for them to feel proud of themselves over.

Each day consisted of a morning class and an evening class with two different groups.

Between the two classes you and Taehyung would have significant free time and lunch.

Since the kids you taught were so young, the classes weren’t very long.

When all kids had been picked up Taehyung walked up beside you with his skies over his shoulder.

“Hungry?” He asked, a cute smile making his pink cheeks puff up.

“Starving!”

Your skies were leaning against the racks by the little cottage house at the base of the slope. The cottage was a storage room for the various obstacles you placed on the slope sometimes and also had a first aid box and some important essentials inside.

Taehyung placed his skies next to yours on the racks while you took off your helmet. You hung it on your skies and fixed your hair slightly. The calm breeze outside was cold against your ears.

You quickly changed out of your skiing boots and into your normal shoes that you stored in the cottage during classes as well as your valuables.

The resort had multiple places to eat as, and as instructors your lunch was of course free at any of the places tied to the resort.

“Should we go the waffle house today?” Taehyung suggested.

“Yes!” You eagerly responded. You were so hungry that anything would do but at the word “waffles” he had you craving it.

It was a short walk to get there but you didn’t mind in the sun.

“How did your class go?” Taehyung asked shyly, trying to spark a conversation with you.

“It went well! How did you do with the little ones?”

“Oh, they’re so cute!” Taehyung pouted.

“I can imagine.” You giggled.

“One of them kept walking on their skies instead of sliding, as if they were long shoes.” He chuckled, making his cheeks puff up cutely again. “And I kept telling her, No Molly you have to slide on the skies!”

He made you laugh.

The way he was talking about it was so… adorable? You could hear in his voice that he really enjoyed working with the little ones and witnessing their cute shenanigans.

He appeared so dreamy…

You caught yourself lingering your gaze at him as you walked and quickly looked away.

As you got closer to the waffle house you were able to smell the sweet scent of freshly made waffles. The house was a red wooden house with a chimney leaking a bunch of white steam out on top.

You stepped inside and the warm air immediately hit your face, making your skin blush from the sudden rise in temperature. To your luck the waffle house was fairly calm today and they had also begun to decorate it for the season.

You ordered food and beverages and headed to one of the tables by the windows with your hot drinks. The waffles would be done shortly and the staff would come out with them for you.

You put your drink down and began to take off your heavy jacket that had been keeping you warm out in the cold all day and Taehyung took off his own as well. Underneath he was of course wearing your average normal fitted thermal wear, but it accentuated his toned body beautifully… and his broad shoulders… You caught yourself staring and quickly returned to hanging your jacket up over you chair when Taehyung suddenly reached out for it.

“I can take it.” He said and you handed it to him with slight confusion.

You had missed the hooks on the wall that Taehyung hung up your jackets on, next to each other.

“Thanks.” You smiled and took a seat.

Taehyung pulled out the chair opposite of you and sat down with a relived sound.

“Finally I get to sit down!” He expressed, slouching slightly.

The waffles were served and you both began to dig in with great appetite.

“Good?” You asked after a while.

“Delicious! How was yours?”

“Everything I needed and more.”

“That’s one lucky waffle.” He chuckled and leaned back against the chair.

Was… was that a flirt?

What had that wikihow article taught you again? 5 seconds or longer of eye contact? Or was it 7?

He chuckled again for himself and reached out to grab his drink.

He took a sip and suddenly his eyes went wide.

“Oh my god, this is yours! I’m so sorry!” He put it back down, blushing. “I’ll get you a new one!”

“It’s ok! Don’t worry about it. I’ll just drink from the other side.”

He had already half-stood up from his chair.

“I have to go to the bathroom.” He mumbled awkwardly and stood up fully and walked away from the table.

--

He placed his hands on the sink and looked at his reflection.

“Why do you have to be so… clumsy?” He scolded himself, embarrassed.

He adjusted his tight top slightly with a sigh.

“I’m making it so damn obvious that I like her…” He thought, shaming himself even more.

When in fact, it wasn’t obvious at all… accidents like that happen, but for a mind blinded by adoration, anything can seem like you’ve just ruined your one and only chance.

Taehyung returned from the bathroom and you had finished your waffle during the time.

You left the waffle house a short while later and headed back to the main building of the ski resort.

In the main building were the hotel, wellness center and biggest restaurant in the area. By the side were two other smaller buildings, one holding a conference center and the other being housing for the resort staff.

You had made it a short distance from the waffle house when Taehyung suddenly broke the silence.

“Aren’t your ears cold? They’re red.” He pointed out, sounding concerned.

“It’s ok, we’re almost there anyway.” You smiled.

“You can borrow my hat.” Taehyung offered.

“Then your ears will be cold.” You said, raising a brow at him.

Taehyung didn’t say anything and looked down at the snow.

Why did he look so down suddenly? It wasn’t like him…

You slowed down and reached down to pick up a pile of snow and began forming it into a ball.

You tossed the ball at Taehyung, aiming for his back.

It hit him and he turned around with a playful frown.

You acted overly innocent, looking at the sky as if you hadn’t done anything but simply enjoying the sky above.

Taehyung quickly reached for a pile of snow and tossed it towards you.

“No!” You squealed, laughing and picking up more snow to defend yourself from his second attack with.

He formed a snow ball and tossed it up and down a few times.

“Who’ll strike next?” He teased.

You formed your own snowball out of the snow, ready to strike back if he’d throw it.

He aimed the snowball at your feet and missed and quickly made his escape.

You ran after him and tossed the snowball at him, missing him right above the shoulder.

He looked back and stopped to quickly pick up some more snow but you caught up with him and attempted to steal the snow from him, causing it to fall out of his hands. So you quickly reached to pick up more snow before he had the chance but to your surprise he wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you back up.

“No!” He laughed and put you back down.

“Peace?” You suggested, out of breathe.

Taehyung pulled his hat off and put it on your head.

“Peace.” He said, before removing his hands from your head.

Your heart skipped a beat.

The warm hat felt nice over your ears…

When you arrived inside the main building they were busy setting up a Christmas tree in the lobby.

“Isn’t it a bit too soon for that?” Taehyung laughed.

“It doesn’t matter what time you start decorating, there’ll always be someone who thinks it’s too early.” You pointed out. “Some people even wait long enough as to the actual day of Christmas to decorate.”

“That’s way too late!” He frowned.

You took off your gloves and shook your shoulders.

You still had quite a lot of free time left before your next class so you decided to sit and chill in one of the side rooms of the lobby. The side rooms all had fireplaces and sofa groups for people to relax on and since it was mid-day most guests were out, so luckily you had the side room for yourselves.

You took off your jacket and ski pants and hung them up on the old style coat rack in the room.

It was a relief to finally take off the bulky clothing.

In the side room the fireplace was crackling wildly with fresh logs just recently tossed onto it and lounge style Christmas music was playing on low volume.

You plopped down on the large sofa and Taehyung joined you, taking a seat next to you and leaving a little space between.

There was a brief silence, but the low volume music saved it from becoming too unbearable.

“The other instructors are going to have their own after ski tonight…” Taehyung began saying, fidgeting slightly with his hands.

“Oh yeah, I heard!”

“Are you going?”

“I was thinking about it, are you?”

“Yeah!” He nodded. Now that he knew you were going, he was going.

You knew a few of the other instructors from previous seasons but naturally you were closer with Taehyung since you two worked more closely together. But for Taehyung the most of the other instructors were still closer to strangers for him.

Speaking of the other instructors you suddenly heard the familiar razzle of heavy outdoor wear entering the room from behind you. You looked over your shoulder and saw Hoseok walking into the room with a wide smile.

“Are you all being cozy in here and not inviting me?” He laughed and walked around the sofa before falling down onto the opposite one.

Hoseok was an instructor for the advanced youth group, supervising and teaching the more experienced and older kids in the bigger slopes.

You giggled at his claim.

“You need an invitation to enter this room.” Taehyung teased and Hoseok shook his head with a chuckle and leaned forward to be able to take his jacket off.

“Class go well?” You asked.

“Yeah, yeah, it’s all good.” He sighed. “But, one of them fell over pretty bad and their parent got mad at me for it.” He rolled his eyes.

“Presidential suite type people?” Taehyung asked.

“That’s an understatement.” Hoseok leaned forward, resting his elbows on his legs and lowered his voice.  “They didn’t get hurt bad, but they both acted as if he was dying and began talking about refunds.”

You almost spat.

“Are you serious?!”

“I am, and I said sorry miss but my class doesn’t come with a no-fall guarantee, here we get up and get better, you fall, you learn. And she got pissed off and just walked away.”

“Ugh.” Taehyung expressed.

“Sounds fishy, as if she told her son to fall purposely so she could save some money if you know what I mean.” You said.

“Honestly.” Taehyung agreed.

“I don’t want to assume things, but that is exactly the same thought I had.” Hoseok laughed. “But what to do, some people just have to be problematic.” He sighed, leaning back on the sofa and stretching out his arms. “Anyway, how did your classes go? Tantrums?”

“No, no tantrums just cuteness.” Taehyung smiled.

Hoseok tilted his head to the side with wide eyes and a pout.

“The parents all just seem grateful that we keep their kids occupied for a while.” You chuckled.

Hoseok slapped his hands on his knees softly before standing up from the sofa.

“Well I need to grab something to eat and have a shower or else I think I might die.” He sighed, but with a smile. “See you tonight?” He questioned.

“We’ll see you tonight.” You responded.

“Nice! Ok see yah.” Hoseok waved his hand and grabbed his jacket before leaving the room.

“If I had a no-fall guarantee I’d have to repay everyone every class.” Taehyung chuckled. “Some of them can barely walk properly when they’re wearing the boots.”

“I practice intentionally falling so we can learn how to get back up, so I’m completely screwed.”

“How dare you get snow on my child’s overalls!” Taehyung gasped, putting on a snobby high pitched voice.

“You’ll hear from my lawyer about this!” You continued, making both of you giggle.

--

You and Taehyung headed back to the beginners slope and set up some obstacles in the hill before the next class.

Time passed quickly and you practiced turning techniques together with both groups. Your group headed down first, since the younger kids went a little slower and were much more dependent on Taehyung helping them one by one.

Class came to an end and you and Taehyung packed up all the equipment into the tiny cottage and then headed back to the staff housing with your skies, calling it a day.

You dropped your skies off in the dedicated storage room and then headed to your rooms with your boots in hand.

Taehyung’s room was on the level below you so he got off the elevator first.

“See you later.” He smiled and headed down the hall before the elevator closed again.

You threw yourself face down on your bed and kicked off your ski pants.

You reached for your phone and rolled over on to your back and began to pointlessly scroll. There wasn’t much to see but a short distraction from the reality was what you needed to unwind. You almost scrolled past a post by Taehyung before noticing it was from him and moved the screen back up over the post.

“How to stop being awkward…”

Awkward? He wasn’t awkward! What was he talking about?

The post was made just now…

--

He hit post and locked his phone, tossing it next to him on his bed with a sigh.

His head rested on his pillow and he had his hands over his waist and looked up at the ceiling, beginning to replay the day to overthink when his phone suddenly interrupted him, luckily so.

He picked it up and looked at the notification.

“You’re not awkward.”

--

After a nap and a refreshing shower you began to get ready for dinner before you’d head to the after ski. At the ground floor of the building was a big entertainment room with a TV and a larger kitchen. Each level had its own tiny kitchen but usually you all ate out at the facilities in the resort, but the entertainment room was where you’d all hang out tonight.

When you were done getting ready you sent another text to Taehyung, telling him that you were heading over to the dinner buffet at the hotel and asking him if he wanted to join.

He immediately responded with a yes.

You took the stairs down and knocked on his room. He opened the door with wet hair, but dressed.

“Oh, I’m not done yet I just need to dry my hair… I sent you a text.”

You quickly looked at your phone in your hand and realized you had missed the text asking if you could meet up downstairs in 10 minutes because he wasn’t ready yet.

“Oh, I’ll wait downstairs then.” You chuckled awkwardly.

“No, you can come in.”

You took a seat on his bed and Taehyung returned to the vanity and began to brush through his hair.

“What were you feeling awkward about before?” You asked.

He almost dropped the hairbrush.

“Oh… it was nothing.” He said, trying to brush it off, literally.

“Enough to make a post about it.” You pointed out.

“I just felt like I was being super awkward when we were talking to Hoseok, that’s all.” He lied.

“You’ll warm up soon enough!” You encouraged.

“I hope so…” He sighed and reached for the hairdryer.

--

When you left, the sun had kissed the sky goodbye and left it with thick clouds in its place.

The snow was lightly falling down as the sky got gradually darker during dinner.

Once you headed back again the other instructors had already begun to set up in the entertainment room.

Hoseok was busy trying to get Netflix to work on the big TV while the others poured up snacks into bowls and covering the floor with blankets and pillows.

“That makes all of us!” Hoseok cheered when he saw you walk in with Taehyung. “We thought we’d go for a cozy after ski tonight! Netflix and chill.” He winked and began to cackle.

You shook your head.

The instructor team wasn’t large, you were probably 10 as a full but the adult instructors normally kept for themselves and weren’t there.

You all got comfortable amongst the numerous pillows and Taehyung kept to your side.

Hoseok had finally managed to get it working and you all decided on a movie together.

About half an hour into the movie it suddenly stopped and began to buffer.

“Aaaaw” You all sighed.

Hoseok stood up and hit pause.

“Let’s play a game and let it buffer a while.” He suggested.

“Spin the bottle!” One of the other instructors called out, laughing.

“Seven minutes in heaven!” Another called out.

“Y’all are so damn horny it’s sad.” Hoseok commented making all of you laugh.

The guy that suggested spin the bottle stood up and went to collect one of the soda bottles you had finished. You knew him a bit from the previous season when he first started. His name was Jimin if you weren’t mistaken.

“Gather around.” He said, taking the initiative for the game.

You all moved into a circle in the middle of the floor and Jimin placed the bottle in the middle.

“Are we playing the truth or dare version or-“ Hoseok asked.

“The real version, come on!” The guy who suggested seven minutes in heaven said.

Hoseok spun the bottle first and it landed on Jimin.

“Your go ChimChim.” Hoseok said. “Pick your victim.”

Jimin spun it carefully and it landed on the seven minutes of heaven guy, who’s name you had unfortunately forgotten.

“You can pick cheek kisses!” Jimin suddenly said.

“Hey, hey you can’t change the rules mid game!” You yelled.

“Yeah, commit to it Chim, it was your idea, Jungkook is waiting!” Hoseok teased.

Jungkook was his name!

Jimin looked reluctant at first and frowned at you when Jungkook suddenly took the initiative.

He leaned across the middle and placed his hands on the side of his face and gave him the quickest and most delicate peck on the lips, turning all of you into a giggling mess.

“It’s not such a big deal! It’s just a game!” Jungkook laughed, waving his hand at your reactions, dismissing them all.

Taehyung was fidgeting nervously with the blanket over his lap. Hoping that he bottle would never hit him…. or if that it did, it would only be the one person in the room he actually wanted to kiss.

In secret he had hoped that the seven minutes in heaven option would’ve won…

Jungkook spun the bottle and it fell on you.

You cursed and spun the bottle hard.

It began to slow down and you watched it intensely as it stopped…

“Hey the movie has loaded a lot now!” Hoseok called out.

“You’re pointing that out only because the bottle fell on you!” Jimin nagged.

“I’m not! We’ll show you how it’s done.” Hoseok said in a cocky tone.

He skootched into the middle and moved the bottle aside.

Taehyung didn’t want to watch, but he couldn’t pull his gaze away…

It meant nothing! You thought, and were in on the idea to show Jungkook and Jimin how it was properly down.

Hoseok placed a hand under your chin and tilted his to the side slightly before leaning in and pressing his lips softly and surprisingly passionately against yours. You rested our hand on the side of his face and pulled away slowly.

Jimin snorted.

“That’s because it works when you have chemistry!” Jimin blamed

“Are you saying we don’t have chemistry!?” Jungkook yelled, trying to sound offended.

You laughed.

Hoseok stood up and went to put the movie back on before returning to the stash of pillows he had hoarded for himself.

--

The night had come to an end you had all returned to your rooms.

The snow was falling heavier than before outside and a storm warning had been put out for tomorrow.

“It’s just a dumb game…” Taehyung mumbled for himself.

“It doesn’t mean anything…”

But it still hurt.

He had nothing against Hoseok, and he had no reason to be mad at him either… but it was hard to not feel a sort of resentment towards him suddenly…

He called himself stupid and went to bed.

--

Taehyung woke up the next morning from the wind hitting hard against the window accompanied by the familiar alarm sound.

He stretched his arms and let out a little groan.

His muscles were a bit sore and he was feeling hungry.

He pulled off the warm covers and sat up in bed with a sigh, pulling a hand through his hair.

His feet touched the cold floor and he walked over to the window to look out.

It was storming really bad outside.

He checked his phone expecting to see exactly what he saw.

”Storm, classes cancelled. Stay inside today and be careful!” From the team leader.

Since he was already up now there was no point in going back to bed again.

He quickly got dressed and headed downstairs to the large kitchen to have breakfast, hopefully the rest of you would be there…

 Taehyung entered the kitchen and saw you and Hoseok both eating breakfast together by one of the tables.

A sting of jealousy went through him.

He ignored the two of you and headed straight to grab something for himself.

”Taehyung!” You joyfully called out.

His name and your voice… it hurt more than usual.

He turned around and shot a half-hearted smile towards you both.

Was something wrong?

 You grabbed your plate and walked up to Taehyung who was preparing a bowl a cereal for himself.

”Are you feeling ok?” You asked.

”I’m fine, why you ask?”

”Oh, no you just seemed a bit- I thought you looked troubled.” You said.

”I’m not troubled.”

”Oh… well that’s good then.”

You placed your plate in the dishwasher and went back to the table next to Hoseok.

 ”Is he ok?” He whispered.

”I don’t know, he seems oddly distant… maybe he’s just tired?” You suggested.

”I hope he isn’t getting ill.” Hoseok said, voicing his equal concern.

Taehyung joined you by the table.

”Hey Tae!” Hoseok smiled.

”Hey.”

”So… the storm, nice with an extra day off right?” He said, trying to brighten the mood.

”It’s a bummer we can’t take advantage of it outside though.” You pouted.

Taehyung remained silent.

”Well I- I have some stuff to do… I’ll see you later.” Hoseok smiled and made his escape.

 The second Hoseok left the room you turned to Taehyung and looked him in the eyes.

He looked back at you with a questionable expression.

”Are you sure you’re alright?”

”Why do you keep asking? I told you I’m fine!”

You didn’t expect that reaction…

”Did I do something?”

”No.” He sighed and slammed his spoon against the bowl accidently.

”I’m only asking because you’re acting differently… and I’m worried about you.”

”You have better things to worry about than me.” He mumbled.

”What are you talking about!?”

He remained silent again.

 The wind whistled outside.

 You sighed and stood up from the table.

”I’m sorry.” He whispered.

”You’re acting really weird.”

”I’m sorry.” He repeated, looking down at his half eaten breakfast.

”Tell me when you’re in a better mood again.” You said and left.

 —

”I don’t know, I tried talking to him but then he said he was sorry and I just- I don’t understand… What if he’s mad at me? I don’t even know what I’ve done wrong?” You whined.

”Maybe he’s just having one of those days… But it’s odd because I’m also used to always seeing him so upbeat.” Hoseok said.

Your room and Hoseok’s were on the same floor and you had joined his room after leaving Taehyung downstairs.

”But I doubt that he’s mad at you, he has no reason to be… unless…” Hoseok said

”Unless what?”

You had mentioned for Hoseok that you found Taehyung attractive, but you had never told him that you actually had feelings for him.

”Unless he likes you.”

”What? Stop it, what do you mean?” You asked, flustered.

”I mean, the kiss yesterday… maybe it hurt his feelings?”

”What makes you think he likes me?” You snorted, looking down at your hands.

”I don’t know… maybe the way he always sits next to you… always looks at you with that dreamy gaze…” He acted out the gaze in an exaggerated way, making you giggle.

”And just the way he acted yesterday made it obvious…” Hoseok continued.

”I didn’t notice anything peculiar…”

”Of course you didn’t! Plus that I was actually sitting across of him so I saw his facial expressions all the time… He blushes a lot?”

”Stop!” You playfully hit him. ”You’re going to make me start thinking that he likes me.”

”Is that a bad thing?” He asked. ”Didn’t you once say that he looked good?”

”I…” You frowned at him.

”like?” He raised his brows and held out his hands suggestively.

”No!… I mean yes but, no!”

”No, but yes but no? You can trust me.”

”I wouldn’t be mad if he liked it, let’s put it like that.” You confessed, fidgeting with your sleeve.

”So you do like him?”

You nodded shyly and looked up at Hoseok.

 ”As your romantic advisor I give myself a worthy promotion to your personal cupid.”

”Don’t!” You laughed,

”He’s jealous, it’s obvious.”

”I don’t know…” You looked down again.

”He looked relieved when I suggested to put the movie back on…”

”That doesn’t have to mean anything…”

”But it does! Listen, go up to him and ask him if he wants to go on a date.”

”I can’t just do that!… and it’s a storm outside…”

”You’d be able to make it over to the hotel through the weather though.”

”Then how about we all have a cozy evening against tonight but this time be play seven minutes in heaven and i accidently rig the game?”

”You’re not going to let this go are you?” You laughed.

”I’m emotionally involved in this now, I need things to happen.”

You sighed.

”Hey, it’ll be alright ok? It always seems scarier than it is when you’re experiencing these feelings… but just go talk to him and give him some reassurance. Flirt with him a little, make him feel like he still has a chance.” Hoseok suggested, patting your shoulder.

”Thanks Hobi.” You smiled.

”Now go, and keep me updated!” He waved his phone back and forth in his hand.

--

You headed down the stairs slowly.

How does one even flirt without being obvious?

Or maybe you should be a bit obvious… Or else he wouldn’t know that he had the chance… IF he so happened to like you…

You hesitated slightly before knocking on Taehyung’s door.

Was he even there?

Maybe he was still downstairs…

Should you knock again just in case?

The door suddenly opened and Taehyung looked at you with a confused expression.

“Can I come in?” You asked.

“Sure…”

He pulled a hand through his hair nervously and went to sit on his bed.

You walked over to his window and looked out at the storm.

“There’s not a soul outside…”

“It’s gotten worse… but I was thinking about attempting to get over to the hotel building later…”

“Can I come with you?” You turned over to look at him.

“Of course…”

“I think we’re all going to watch a movie again later tonight too…”

“I don’t know about that…”

“Why not?” You asked, trying to sound caring and took a seat next to him on the bed. “I need someone to snuggle.”

“There are plenty of options.” He chuckled awkwardly.

“But I want to snuggle with you.”

His face went red.

“With me?” He looked up at you with a shy smile, raising his brow as if he didn’t believe you.

“Yes.”

“I’ll guess I’ll go then… for you.”

You moved closer to him and wrapped your arms around his waist, hugging him.

You rested your head against his shoulders and you felt his arms around you.

“You looked like you could need a hug.” You whispered.

“I do.” He hugged you tighter, heart beating faster.

He exhaled deeply and you could feel him relax into the hug when he suddenly nuzzled you softly.

You couldn’t help but giggle and the giggle was contagious.

You leaned back and loosened your grip but Taehyung still held you and your eyes meet, closer than even before.

He let go of you and quickly looked away, shy.

“Should we try and get over to the hotel?” You suggested.

“Yeah.” He nodded, clapping his hands together.

You quickly headed up to your room to grab your jacket and then you headed downstairs together.

You looked over at him, secretly stealing a glance in the elevator but letting yourself get caught by him.

He smiled and looked down.

He was acting oddly shy…

You got out of the elevator and headed for the entrance.

The snow was flying sideways aggressively.

You pulled up your scarf to your cheekbones and pushed the door open.

The wind instantly hit you strong, almost making you fall over.

Taehyung’s hand reached for yours and he grabbed it tight.

With one arm he tried to cover his eyes from the snow.

It was only a few meters to the hotel but the snow had fallen heavily and created a thick level on the ground that you had to get through.

Your skin was already tingling and you hurried towards the entrance together.

You made it into the lobby and you immediately freed yourself from your suffocating scarf.

“You ok?” Taehyung asked and sniffed softly.

“We made it.” You laughed and let go of Taehyung’s hand to take your gloves and jacket off.

Taehyung did the same and his eyes suddenly went wide when he felt your hand in his again, but skin to skin this time…

You turned to him and brushed his hair away from his face casually.

His heart skipped a beat.

What were you doing? Why were you acting so… so heart clenching? He questioned.

The lobby was fully decked out in Christmas decorations now and the staff was handing out free hot chocolate to everyone.

You grabbed some for yourself and found an empty sofa you could sit in.

“So… do you… come here often?” You asked and gently blew on your hot chocolate.

“Every now and then, what about you?” He laughed, giving you a weird look.

“Oh I like to pop by every once in a while… I’ve seen you around.”

“I’ve never seen you before, care to introduce yourself?”

You gasped and pretended to be offended.

“You don’t know who I am?” You whispered.

“Should I?” He asked and took a sip of his chocolate.

“I’m the heirs of… kingdom”

“Just kingdom?”

“It has no name.” You tried to act snobby.

“When can I visit?” Taehyung asked, giggling.

“We shall discuss the matter of your future temporary attendance.”

“How exquisite.”

You laughed.

“But how could a mere peasant like me possibly be seen with the heirs?” He continued.

“A peasant? I thought you were a prince.”

“I thought my disguise was fool proof.” He slapped his leg.

“Then how could a mere heir of a fortune be seen with someone of such a high status like royalty?”

“Because the prince likes her.”

Taehyung looked down at the paper mug in his hand.

“Would the prince give up his royal title?”

He chuckled.

“No, the heir would become a princess.”

“What would it take for the heir to become a princess?” You asked shyly.

“That she told the prince she likes him too.”

He swirled the hot chocolate he had left around and around in his mug.

“Taehyung?”

He looked up from the swirls.

You leaned in close and placed a soft kiss on his cheek.

“The heir is head over heels for the prince.”

“Only the prince?” He asked, blushing wildly.

“Only the prince.”

He returned the kiss on your cheek, but his lips lingered longer against your blushing skin.

“The prince loves her.” He whispered, making your heart flutter.

On the way out into the cold again you stopped in the lobby to put on your outerwear again.

But heading for the exit Taehyung suddenly stopped you by grabbing on to your arm from behind.

You turned around in confusion, but it didn’t take long for you to notice what you had unknowingly been walking away from.

There was a mistletoe hanging from the ceiling.

Of course…

Taehyung took a step closer to you and leaned down, tilting his head slightly and placing a warm hand on your cheek before his soft lips pressed against yours in a gentle kiss. He leaned back slightly with his hand still caressing your cheek and his eyes sparkled.

You had your hand held on his and he kissed you again, longer this time.

“I’ve wanted to do that for so long…” He whispered.

--

Hoseok gathered you all in the entertainment room.

“Since there’s a storm out, we have to take advantage of it and have another cozy gathering.” Hoseok said. “Movie suggestions go!”

“Christmas movie!” You yelled.

“Elf!” Jimin yelled.

Hoseok gave Jimin a look of exhaustion.

“Comedy!” Jungkook yelled.

“Comedy and Christmas, lets scroll and see what we can find.” Hoseok said and held up the remote

“Elf!” Jimin yelled again.

You were all seated on the floor but you and Taehyung were leaning against the couch, sharing a blanket. His arm was secretly around your back under the blanket and you leaned against him slightly.

When Hoseok scrolled to the Christmas section the TV and few lights you had on all suddenly cut out.

“What happened?”

“Did the power go out?”

Hoseok tried to turn the TV back on without success.

“Well, I guess we’ll have to wait a little then.”

A few of the Christmas decorations in the window went on batteries so Hoseok quickly ran over and grabbed them and placed in the middle of the room instead.

“So, seven minutes in heaven anyone?” Hoseok suggested.

Oh god…

“I’m down!” Jimin cheered.

“Taehyung you go in first.” Hoseok ordered.

“Alright then.” He stood up carefully and readjusted his sweater slightly. “Where?”

“Uhm…there’s the storage room in the kitchen or the cleaning supply room over there.” Jungkook suggested and pointed.

“Ok good, let’s go with the cleaning room.” Hoseok said.

Taehyung got in and closed the door.

“So Taehyungie… do you pick the first person?” Hoseok asked and pointed at you.

“Uhm… no.”

“And the next person?” He still pointed at you and you hid your face in your hands.

“Ok.”

You stood up with a sigh and shook your head towards Hoseok.

You got into the tiny room and Taehyung looked relieved.

Hoseok closed the door.

“You have seven minutes starting now!” He called out.

It was pitch black in the room and you reached out to locate Taehyung and you heard him giggle.

He was leaning against the wall and he wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you close. His hand trailed up your jaw, trying to find his way and you moved your hands to the sides of his face. Your noses accidently bumped, making both of you giggle before your lips finally found each other and he pulled you in tighter.

Your hands travelled up his face and into his hair as the kiss got more heated. You could feel his hand on your back slowly move lower and lover down your spine…

Taehyung was panting, desperate to catch his breath but unwilling to pull away from the make out.

You grabbed his hair harder and your lips fell from his. Breathless you placed a kiss on his jaw instead and then his neck.

He mumbled something you couldn’t hear and found your lips again, sliding his tongue in this time and moaning softly into the kiss.

You didn’t want it to stop.

He suddenly lifted you up and you wrapped your legs around him while he spun around, pushing your back against the wall. If it wouldn’t have been for the seven minutes you would’ve been pulling and tugging at his clothes by now…

Hoseok suddenly knocked on the door twice.

“It’s been seven minutes and a half, guys!”

“Fuck, I don’t want to stop.” Taehyung mumbled out of breath and put you back down on the floor.

“Me neither.” You panted.

“Continue later?” He suggested.

“Yes please.” You chuckled.

You found the door handle in the dark and opened the door carefully.

“Finally!” Hoseok teased.

Taehyung walked out behind you, being careful not to trip over the mops.

“His hair looks messier than before.” Jimin pointed out, trying to sound like a detective.

“So do you! What happened out here while we were in there?” Taehyung teased and laughed.

“That’s a significant mood change…” Hoseok commented.

“I think it’s your turn now Hobi” You said.

“My turn!?”

“Yeah, game master!” Jungkook yelled.

“Fine!” Hoseok said and entered the tiny room.

--

The power still hadn’t returned and the storm was still going strong.

Whatever had pulled in wasn’t going to be leaving any time soon unfortunately.

You found a few torches in the kitchen and used them to find your way back to your rooms up the stairs. The elevator was obviously not working.

Jimin and Jungkook had rooms on the first level, Taehyung on the next and you and Hoseok on the third.

“I wonder if the guests in the hotel have key card doors, wouldn’t they not work now?” You asked Hoseok while you headed up the final flight of stairs.

“I think they still would…maybe the hotel has some kind of extra generator for those or something, otherwise it’d be problematic.” He said.

You walked up the last steps and Hoseok asked you what he had been dying to know.

“So, Taehyung seemed to be in a better mood…” He pointed out.

“He is.” You smiled.

“So, what did you do?”

“We just talked…”

“Talked? Sure, his hair said something else.” Hoseok laughed.

“I meant before that!” You giggled. “I’m not telling you what we did in there.”

“I have my guesses already. Either way, sleep well and I’m expecting to hear the details of that talk tomorrow, ok?”

“Sure.” You laughed and headed towards your room.

You had already seen the text on your phone when you closed the door behind you.

“Come to my room?” – Taehyung

Just a few minutes. You thought. A few minutes just in case…

After a short while you carefully opened the room to your door again, making sure Hoseok wouldn’t hear from his room and carefully closed it behind you and sneaked back downstairs with your torch.

You knocked softly on Taehyung’s door and he immediately opened.

As you stepped inside the lights in the hallway suddenly switched back on behind you.

The power was back.

All lights in Taehyung’s room were switched off and the only source of light was from the large spotlights by the slopes nearby.

He closed the door behind you and you reached for the light switch, turning on the ceiling lamp.

“No.” He said and hit the switch back off. “Leave the lights off.”

He grabbed your hand and led you to his bed.

He sat down next to you, placing one hand on your thigh and the other turning your face towards him. His lips immediately found yours, kissing you with a different type of hunger than before.

It didn’t go long before your threw your leg over his thighs and straddled him, pushing him down on to the bed, back hitting the mattress and his hands moving down to your ass.

Your right hand grabbed the hem of his shirt by the neck and pulled gently at the fabric, making him chuckle a little.

“Do you want me?” He whispered.

You nodded. Hoping he could feel it more than he could probably see it.

“Yes.”

He licked across his upper lip and pulled you down on him. He rolled over on to his side and moved further up the bed. He grabbed the hem of his shirt and pulled it over his head and tossed it into the darkness.

“Come and take me.” He teased.

You crawled up to him but before you had the chance to reach out he had you pinned down under him. He nuzzled you aggressively by the crook of you neck. His long hair tickled and he left soft kisses all over your neck and jaw, leaving a trail all the way until his lips reached yours again. Your hands explored his bare skin, moving over his broad shoulders and feeling every curve. You dragged your fingertips down over his collarbones, making him shiver slightly from the subtle teasing touch.

His hand escaped under your top and he swiftly pulled it off over your head, temporarily breaking the kiss.

His lips found you again, but lingering by your neck again and moving down to your décolletage. It felt like he was almost worshipping you with these kisses, all over your body…

You loved it.

“Can you sleep here with me tonight?” He asked in a low tone.

You put your hand on his head and began to stroke him softly.

“I’d love to.”

It was hard to see in the dark but you found his face with your hands and leaned down to kiss him, kissing him on the nose first and then his soft swollen lips.

You took your jeans off and Taehyung quickly got up from bed and grabbed one of his t-shirts for you to sleep in.

He tossed it to you and you caught it and pulled it over your head.

“Don’t look.” He suddenly said and began to unbuckle his belt.

Not that you could see much, but you could see his silhouette loud and clear.

You couldn’t help but linger your gaze on the curves of his back… He was standing sideways from you and suddenly his pants fell to the floor and you covered your eyes with your hand… but leaving enough room between your fingers to just get one little glance of the man in front of you…

He hooked thumbs under them hem of his underwear and pulled them down, stepping out of them and his pants. He quickly reached for his pajama pants on the chair in the corner and your eyes found the curve of his silhouette below his back.

You clenched your other hand into a fist.

He turned back to his side and bent down and you witnessed more than you bargained for and looked down, shy.

He pulled on his pants and walked back to the bed.

He placed one hand on either side of you, still standing and you removed your hand slowly to reveal him standing above you closely.

“I saw you peaking.” He said and kissed your forehead.

You could feel your cheeks going warm again.

Taehyung crawled into bed and pulled the covers over you both. You got comfortable on one of the two pillows when you suddenly felt his arm snake around your waist and pull you back close against him. Lips exhaling by your neck, arm tightly squeezing you and his bulge pressing against your butt…

Feeling him subtly rubbing himself against you made it hard for you to relax and all you could focus on was your heart beat getting faster and faster and his tickling breath against your neck.

He moved his leg slightly and began to whisper by your ear.

“You know…” He began, pausing mid-sentence to let out a small chuckle. “Earlier… I was really afraid that the others would notice how hard I was…” He confessed.

You looked over your shoulder to face him but he hid his face against your neck.

“Ah you must think I’m so pathetic.” He laughed, feeling a bit embarrassed.

“I don’t…”

“What do you think?” He asked in a sultry voice.

“Keep talking…”

“Do you like it when I talk about these things?” His chuckle made it hard to conceal a flustered giggle and he pulled himself tighter to you.

You nodded and let out a short hum.

“What more is there I can say huh? Hm…”

His deep voice sent shivers down your spine.

“Have you ever… thought about me?” He asked.

In the silence of the night you could hear almost everything with him this close to you.

You could hear how he swallowed after asking the question and how softly he was breathing and you were almost positive that he could hear how fast your heart was beating.

Of course you had thought of him… so many times and more than you wanted to admit… and each time it was enough to turn you on and start exploring yourself…

“Of course I have…” You whispered.

“In that way…?”

“In that way.”

“What would you do then?”

You looked back over your shoulder at him and his expression was a lust-filled relaxed smirk.

“Probably what you think I’d do.”

“Would you touch yourself?”

His words made your cheeks warm.

You giggled and all flustered you tried to hide under the covers to no use.

“It’s ok.” He comforted and you could practically hear in his voice how his smirk grew wider.

“I’ve done that too…” He admitted.

You turned around in his hold and faced him eye to eye.

“Done what?”

“Touched myself while thinking of you…”

You bit into your lower lip.

His words were getting you more and more heated up.

His hand left your waist and reached up to your face to move your hair to behind your ear gently.

“You’re so beautiful.” He whispered and placed a gentle kiss on your nose.

You suddenly heard how something fell outside, causing a loud bang.

“What was that!?” You gasped and sat up straight.

Taehyung got out of bed and rushed over to the window.

“One of the trees outside blew over.”

“Oh no…”

Taehyung got back into bed and the presence of his body made the bed feel warmer again.

You snuggled up to his chest and put your arm around him.

“I guess there won’t be any class tomorrow either if it continues like this.” Taehyung said and put his arm around you too, pulling you even closer against his body.

“You’re so warm.” You suddenly pointed out and pressed your lips against his chest.

“Maybe I’m too warm and should take the rest of my clothes off.” He teased.

“I won’t stop you.”

“Hmm?” He expressed.

Taehyung reached down the back of your thigh and suddenly grabbed it and pulled your leg over him while he rolled onto his back, successfully pulling you on top of him.

“I can’t sleep with you next to me like this, you’re so distracting…” He chuckled.

“Am I distracting?” You asked, putting emphasis on the I.

“Yes, I just want to hold you and touch you and hear your voice, I don’t want to fall asleep.”

“You’re the one that keeps trying to turn me on…”

“Oh!?” He raised his brows, looking surprised as if his actions weren’t intentional.

“Then why don’t you try turning me on instead?” He teased.

“Are you sure? I have an upper hand here already…”

“What upper hand exactly?” He shot you a crooked smile.

Considering that you were currently lying on top of him, you could easily sit up over his crotch and grind down on him…

Instead of explaining that, you placed your hands on his bare chest and pushed yourself up.

He quickly understood what you mean but it was too late when you suddenly began to move your hips gently over his already hard cock.

There was no point in turning him on, since he obviously already was by his own words…

But you kept going anyway… because the friction felt nice for you too.

Taehyung let out a suffocated whimper as you began to grind harder against him.

“Baby…” He moaned, placing his hand on your thigh and throwing his head back.

“Do you want me to stop?” You asked in a low sultry tone.

“No, no… Please don’t. It- it feels so good…”

Another soft moan escaped him and his expression looked like as if he was about to have an orgasm.

His other hand suddenly reached up for you and grabbed the t-shirt you were wearing into a fist and pulled you down, meeting you half way with his hungry lips.

The kiss was messy and desperate and the sounds of it echoed around you as your lips smacked against each other, tasting, exploring and lusting for the other.

He rolled both of you over, almost hitting the wall but getting on top.

He grabbed the t-shirt again and pulled it up and over your head. Breathless between the kisses his hands roamed up the sides of your body and under your bra strap.

You had your hands tangled in his hair but you let them fall to push yourself up so he could reach around you and pull your bra apart.

He managed and pulled it off your arms and threw it onto the floor, exposing your breasts.

His lips found yours again and his hands squeezed your breasts tightly, feeling them and touching them, exploring the softness of your skin and the smooth texture with his hands. His fingertips trailed across your nipples, making your shiver.

He let out a low chuckle in-between the kiss in response to your reaction.

His fingers trailed down your sides, gentle to the touch and stopped by your hips.

He had since long been aching for your touch but it was becoming unbearable…

He pulled away from the kiss and you reluctantly lost his touch. He stood up on his knees above your hips and you could see his outline through his pants.

Serious eyes and an open mouth with swollen lips looked down at you, his chest moving up and down rapidly to catch his breath again.

You concealed your breasts with your forearms, getting flustered by his gaze.

His hands hovered above the hem of his pants and he began to pull them down slowly to expose himself. One hand reached down into his pants and covered him while he pulled down the fabric with the other, slowly and moving his hand from his hip to the front to pull them down easier.

He looked down.

You could feel your heart pound.

Well past, his pants easily slipped down his tense thighs.

He looked nervous.

His hand was cupping his balls and his cock rested against his lower abdomen. He was rich in thickness, thicker than you expected and the head was pink, aching for attention with a tiny trail of precum down the middle.

A few veins trailed from the base up his shaft and you caught yourself staring longer than you thought and bit down on your lip.

He took a deep breath and got out of his pants, letting them fall to the floor with a gentle thud.

With one hand he reached for the hem of your panties and began to pull them down your thighs, exposing the very last of your body for his eyes.

You kicked them off the rest and you looked at each other for a while.

The atmosphere felt intimidating and intriguing at the same time.

He let go of himself and reached for your thighs, carefully spreading them apart and moving your legs to the sides of him instead. His hands gripped gently onto the back of your thighs and he leaned down and placed a kiss against your aching clit and then began to lick with his tongue up and down the slit and suck on and kiss each and every inch of your wet below, making you chip for air and clench your hands into tight fists.

You threw your head back against the pillow when the tip of his tongue suddenly pressed against your entrance and slid in, passionately teasing you for what was to come and driving you insane.

His tongue pulled out and you could hear the wet sounds his lips were making against you, making it all even worse…

He swirled his tongue around your sensitive pearl and sucked on it gently, letting his lip smack softly over it. At the same time you could feel his hands move further up to between your thighs and two of his fingers dragged up and down your wetness while his lips were occupied further up.

Without warning he slid his two fingers in as far as he could reach and curled them upwards. He pulled his fingers towards him softly while keeping them curved and you had to hold your hand over your mouth to not scream out and instead whimpered loudly into your hand

He spread his finger apart, stretching you slightly with a pulsating motion before he pulled out.

His touch abandoned you and he sat up straight and saw your hand pressing against your mouth for dear mercy.

He grabbed you wrist and pulled your hand away.

“I want to hear you.”

“But the other people…”

“I want them to hear too.”

He grabbed a tight grip around his the base of his cock and stroked himself up and down a few times.

He was so swollen…

He moved closer and lied down on top of you with his face resting by the side of your head so would be able to hear him louder than anyone…

You could feel the tip of his cock drag from down to up and over your now over-sensitive clit, coating himself in your wetness and making you wince at the sensitive touch.

You felt a pressure against your entrance and the anticipation and desperation for relief was destroying you.

“Relax.” He whispered. “I’m pretty big.”

He let out a small chuckle and the pressure got harder and he carefully pushed himself in and whimpered from the tight fit.

He kissed your jaw and with a soft grunt his cock slid in deeper as he thrusted gently.

His hands pushed your legs further apart and he carefully pulled out so he could thrust back in again, harder this time.

Your hands tried to grip against his shoulder blades but without much success and just ended up softly scratching his skin instead.

He pulled out half-way again and thrusted his thick cock back deep.

He picked up a slow pace and you began to get used to his size.

His breath tickled against your neck and the sound of his breathing getting heavier only aroused you more. He moaned against your ear and left a few nibbles on your earlobe. Then he started to get rougher.

His grip tightened and his thrusts got harder, making it harder for you to stay quiet much longer and when he suddenly pounded into you brutally without warning he successfully made you let out a high pitched moan from the pleasure.

An “Oh my god” or two escaped your mouth when he did the same thing again with a loud groan.

“Say my name.” He begged. “Please say my name.”

His breathing got heavier and heavier as the sound of skin slapping against skin, hard, became faster and faster. He was thrusting deep, barely pulling out before he slipped back in hard.

Your nails dug into his skin and you curled your toes, keeping sane was becoming impossible quickly when the tight tense feeling took over your core. You called his name, begging him not to stop and encouraging him even more to keep going. He was getting exhausted, he had to stop for a while or slow down but he was getting so close himself that he couldn’t make himself do it.

He cried out in a whimper, desperately chasing his high and ended up slowing his pace down slightly.

“I- I’m so close.” He panted.

All you could do was nod.

Another thrust and he sent you off the age, making you able to feel your heart pound throughout your entire body when your muscles finally gave in around him. Your breathing fell heavy as your muscles clenched and ached and he continued to pound into you. A few short loud groans followed each breath and his thrusts slowed down significantly but he pushed himself even deeper till he let out moan of relief and you could feel his release. His cock throbbed as he cummed, squirting his heavy release into you.

His back was glowing from sweat and he was finally regaining control of his breathing, face buried in the crook of your neck.

He pulled out carefully and rolled over on to his side and pulled you close for soothing cuddles. You could feel his release trickle down your inner thigh and you knew you needed a long shower after this but the exhaustion and after high made you too needy for his comforting hold around you.

His hand moved up and down your back soothingly.

“We should shower…” You chuckled, drawing lazy circles with your fingertips over his chest.

“I’m too tired to even stand up right now.”

“I get that, I mean later.” You giggled, getting flustered.

“We could shower tomorrow morning.” He suggested and placed a soft kiss against your forehead. “Together.”

--

You headed upstairs wearing your clothes from yesterday and with damp hair. To your relief you didn’t see anyone on your way and you quickly got changed into fresh clean clothes in your room and fixed your hair before heading back downstairs for breakfast.

The storm was still livid outside but it was going to calm down during the day hopefully so that the slopes could re-open again either this evening or tomorrow.

Tomorrow was Sunday and on Sundays you didn’t have any classes which meant that you’d have another extra day off. Usually you and the other instructors would take that day to do some skiing yourselves.

When you arrived downstairs you spotted Hoseok who had just finished his breakfast.

Usually the two of you would wake up about the same time so you tended to eat breakfast together before the others woke up.

“You’re late today.” Hoseok pointed out, smiling but with a suspicious squint.

“I slept in a little” You lied.

In truth you had had a long shower… with Taehyung.

You grabbed some breakfast for yourself and walked over to sit next to Hoseok when you suddenly felt a hint of soreness.

“What’s up?” Hoseok asked, noticing the sudden change in your expression in response to the soreness.

“Nothing, my thighs hurt a bit, but it’s fine.”

“Exercise pain?” Hoseok suggested.

“Something like that, it’s manageable.” You sat down. “Did you sleep well?”

“Yeah, I did!” He smiled. “But back on topic, that’s really weird because none of us were out yesterday.” He pointed out, voicing concern.

You sighed and smiled a smile that read “please stop talking.”

“It’s ok.”

He leaned back and squinted towards you.

“Fine, then how come you didn’t answer when I knocked on your door before…”

“I was in the shower.”

“I lied, I didn’t knock. Now tell me what happened.” He smirked and poked with his spoon at his left overs.

“Hobi!” You laughed. “Nothing happened!” You blushed.

“Where you maybe in… another room?” He leaned closer, giving you a curious look.

“I was in Taehyung’s room but-“

“Aha!” He slapped his hand on table. “Tell me more.”

You were occupied chewing on your food.

He leaned forward and lowered his voice.

“Did you two have sex?”

You started coughing and got flustered. Why did he have to be so nosy?

Hoseok laughed.

“I’m only joking!” He said and patted your back.

You looked up at him with a shameful expression.

“Wait… did you!?” He suddenly yelled. “You’re joking right?” He lowered his voice again.

You hid your face in your hands, trying to swallow your food so you could respond.

“You did!” He gasped.

“Maybe.”

“What on earth happened yesterday, you never told me the details! Here I was thinking you two were going to go steady or get flirty but you go off fucking instead?”

“Stop!” You pleaded.

“This is… wow… was he good though?”

You couldn’t stop yourself from laughing.

“Smash or pass?” He asked again.

“Big smash…” You whispered, grabbing another spoon.

“Big as in?”

You dropped your spoon into the bowl and had to hold your laugh in again to not spill food everywhere.

Taehyung suddenly entered the kitchen and put together some breakfast on a plate and walked over to your table.

“Hey” He smiled sweetly.

“Good morning Tae, did you sleep well?” Hoseok asked, overly enthusiastic and making you hide your face laughing again.

“Very well. You?”

“I kept hearing screams outside, I think big foot got lost in the storm or something, it sounded like a beast.”

You were dying.

“What?” Taehyung gave him a questionable look and laughed.

“He’s lying, he said he slept well.” You said, looking up from your hands with tears in your eyes.

“Well, I’m going to leave you two to it, so see you later.” Hoseok said smoothly and grabbed his plate.

“What is going on?” Taehyung asked confused.

“I don’t know.” You still hadn’t calmed down.

“What did he do? What’s so funny?” Taehyung asked eagerly.

Hoseok put his plate away and headed for the hallway when he suddenly turned around.

“Condoms! Good shit!” He thumbs upped.

You hit your head against the table, making the plates rattle.

“Did you tell him?” Taehyung whispered.

“He made me.” You cry-laughed.

“Did he hear us?”

“No, no, he didn’t.” You finally calmed down so you could speak a normal sentence.

He giggled cutely and took a bite of his sandwich.

“So… what do you think?” He asked.

His phone suddenly buzzed on the table.

“About what?”

“Nevermind.” He looked away blushing, trying not to laugh.

“Please don’t tell me he texted you…”

Taehyung moved his phone over to you.

“Ps. She called you big. You’re welcome.” – Hoseok

“I’m going to execute him.” You said.

Taehyung took his phone back and raised his brow at you in a flirty manner.

“But on a serious note…” Taehyung suddenly said. “This wasn’t a one-time thing right? Because I meant what I said at the hotel yesterday…”

“I meant what I said too…

“I do love you.” He confessed, directly this time.

“I love you too.”

The ‘good morning kiss’ had already happened both in bed and in the shower… but in the shower in the form of a heated make out with your back against the cold tiles.

But it still felt shy when he suddenly leaned across the table and kissed your lips.

“Am I interrupting something?” Jimin suddenly looked at you with wide eyes.

You hadn’t noticed him coming into the kitchen, followed by Jungkook in the hallway.

“huh?” Jungkook expressed.

“They were kissing.”

“Wait, are you together?” Jungkook asked, surprised.

--

News spread faster than you had expected it to… but on the weather forecast of the day, the storm had finally blown past by the afternoon.

You and the others planned to head up the mountain to see the aftermath of the storm from a view later but since the lifts were still closed due to technical checkups you headed up on the snow scooters instead.

Jimin and Jungkook were instructors for advanced adults and private instructors and therefor they had access to the scooters and could easily lend out a third one.

Jimin and Jungkook had one each and Hoseok joined behind Jungkook while you and Taehyung had the third one.

Jimin lead the way in front followed by you and Taehyung and Jungkook and Hoseok behind you.

Taehyung had his arms wrapped tightly around your waist behind you while you drove along the tracks, heading up the mountain.

The trees around you were all covered in a thick layer of snow, not a single hint of green being visible. It looked beautiful.

You finally reached the top and got off the scooters and removed your heavy helmets.

Normally you could get up there via the ski lift and there was a restaurant and a view point but because of the storm the restaurant was of course closed. On the side of the long slope was a track for distance skiing that split into a second road leading further up for scooters so that staff and emergency teams could get up and down the mountain easier.

The resort and the small town nearby were all covered by snow and a few trees seemed to have fallen down.

Jungkook had his camera with him and walked off to take some photos of the aftermath and the view, but besides the trees everything seemed to have gotten away unharmed.

--

After that day things returned back to normal at the resort, the skiing classes started again and the movement around the resort and all the restaurants were open again. The fallen trees were gotten rid of and the little damage there had been was currently being repaired.

“Try bending your knees a bit more when you turn Hector, besides that you’re doing great.” You smiled and the little one wobbled away towards the lift to go back up again.

You got on the little button lift as well and joined your student at the top.

“Ok, last one for today everyone, you’ve all done a great job! This time we’ll play follow john in a line behind…. Amanda!”

You counted down from 3 and Amanda, the first one, went down the hill followed one by one by the others. The point of the game was to do what “john” who in this case was Amanda did and follow her movements. She started flapping her arms as she turned and the rest of the line followed by you last copied the movement.

On the less steep side Taehyung had placed out little obstacles that resembled gates that his students had to duck under. The last ones ducked under the obstacles and joined the rest of the class by the cottage followed by Taehyung.

The parents had all already arrived to pick up their kids and you checked them off the lists one by one and making sure to give them all some well earned praise.

Hector, one of the kids in your class excitedly gave you a high five before he said bye.

Taehyung suddenly joined by your side.

“Can I have a high-five too?” He asked and crouched down.

Hector gave him a high five too and then he ran off.

He stood back up again with a wide grin.

His hair messily rested over his headband and you brushed a few strands away from the center of his face.

“Thanks.” He said, smiling the smile that made his cheeks puff up that you loved so much. “Have you checked off everyone?” He asked.

“Yep, he was the last one.”

“Great, then let’s go eat!”

You changed quickly changed shoes and headed away.

Taehyung’s hand reached for yours and grabbed it firmly.

“Where should we eat?” You asked.

“I think the hotel has a Christmassy buffet today.”

“Sounds good to me.”

“I can text the others to join us there after they finish their classes.” Taehyung suggested.

“They usually eat lunch up at the viewpoint restaurant; they could do with a change of setting for once.”

“Plus, Christmas food!”

“That too!”

You arrived at the hotel and took off your jackets. One of the waiters found a bigger table for you and you sat down.

“I tied my boots to tight earlier, my feet ache.” You whined.

“Excessive toe wiggling usually helps, it get the blood flowing but it should get better soon since you’re wearing your own shoes now.”

“I know, it’s just so annoying when it happens.” You pouted.

The buffet table had everything to feed whatever your hunger desired and you excitedly gathered random pieces of whatever on to your plate.

“It’s Christmas next week…” Taehyung pointed out.

“It is.”

“Do you have anything planned?”

“Not really, I’ll participate in the celebrations here, it’s the downside of working here I guess but last year was really fun!” You said with a smile.

“Good, because I thought… since there are no classes during Christmas… maybe we could…”

Jimin, Jungkook and Hoseok suddenly joined you by the table mid-sentence.

“3rd, 4th and 5th wheel have arrived!” Hoseok laughed.

They all began to take of their jackets and you leaned across the table to Taehyung.

“Maybe we could?” You asked.

“I- I’ll say it later.” He got flustered and grabbed his phone out of his pocket.

“Can you recommend anything from the buffet?” Jimin asked.

“Try the chicken!” Taehyung said. “The one with the red sauce!”

“Everything from the sweet section.” You said.

You felt your phone vibrate in your pocket and you quickly reached for it to check.

“Maybe we could go on a date.” – Taehyung

His phone was on the table instead of in his hand now and he continued to eat, looking down a bit shy at his plate.

You reached over and tapped his shoulder to get his attention when Hoseok and Jungkook suddenly disappeared after Jimin to get food.

“I’d love to.” You said, making Taehyung smile widely and look back down again.

It was like he had two sides, one shameless side and one easily flustered side.

“Where would you like to go? Or can I surprise you?” He asked.

“Surprise me!” You said eagerly.

--

It was the day before Christmas and you and Taehyung had left the resort for the day and headed into the nearby town.

The streets were decorated with lights and various smells of spices and food swept through the streets to the sound of choirs singing Christmas carols

The town was lively and in the middle of the large plaza was a big Christmas market with all different kinds of stuff for sale from gifts to food.

You held Taehyung’s hand tightly to no get lost from each other amongst all the people but also because… holding your boyfriend’s hand was a thing you enjoyed doing.

You had no idea of where you were going or what you were going to do so you let Taehyung led you the way but you took a detour through the Christmas market.

Some of the stands had little trays with taste tests with what they were selling. There was chocolate, marzipan and nuts and other various baked goods that all smelled delicious.

There was one stand that sold hot chocolate but the melted type where they put a stick of chocolate into the milk and mulled wine.

Another stand had some Christmas themed hand-painted snow globes and hand-made ornaments to hang in your Christmas tree.

Sadly you didn’t have a Christmas tree of your own but it made you think of if you’d ever have a Christmas tree together in the future… maybe you’d even have a place of your own someday.

You looked over at Taehyung who was wearing his scarf tightly wrapped around his neck and jaw, making him look especially squishy.

You let out a little giggle and got his attention.

“Hmm?”

“You look cute.”

He smiled widely and hid his face in his scarf.

You left the market after buying some treats and moved on to where you were initially going.

Down a few streets you arrived at another smaller plaza with an ice rink set up in the middle. Children and adults were skating around under a big disco ball that was hung up over the center to up-beat Christmas music.

“I hope you like ice skating.” Taehyung said

“Are we going to skate?”

He nodded eagerly.

“Then after we’re going to eat, but I’m not going to tell you where.”

You squeezed his hand with both of your hands in excitement.

You had been skating a few times before and could stand and move securely but not very fast yet.

Taehyung tied the strings of his skates fast and then quickly went down on his knees in front of you and began to tie yours for you.

“You don’t have to do that.” You giggled.

“But I want to!”

“Who knew you were such a gentleman.”

He looked up at you with a witty grin and winked.

He took help of your knee to get himself back up on his feet and then held out two hands for you to help you stand up on the unsteady surface. You carefully made your way on to the ice first followed by Taehyung who was holding on to the reeling for dear life.

“I’m not the best at this.” He chuckled and finally got on to the ice properly.

“Take my hands.” You said and held out your hands to him. He let go of the reeling carefully and grabbed your hands for support instead. You pushed yourself backwards slowly, pulling Taehyung along towards the center of the ice.

You noticed how Taehyung suddenly looked up above you once you reached the center. He pulled against your hands so you’d get closer to him and he wrapped his arms around your waist instead, stumbling slightly as he did.

From the distance before you hadn’t noticed the little mistletoe hanging from under the disco ball.

“Are they everywhere?” You giggled, looking up.

A hand moved to your chin to tilt your head back down and a soft pair of lips found yours and kissed you gently.

You received another kiss on your nose and his puffy cheeks were blushing pink.

You continued skating and went around the entire rink hand in hand slowly, when you had almost made a successful lap Taehyung suddenly lost his footing and slipped and fell on his butt on the hard ice.

“Honey are you ok!?”

He started laughing.

“Ouch.” He whined.

His laughter spread to you and you failed to hold back a little giggle before helping him back up on his feet again.

“Did you hurt yourself?” You asked.

He shook his head. “I’ll be ok if you kiss it better” He pouted.

“You want me to kiss your butt?”

“… The lips would be fine to.” He admitted and made a kissy pout.

You put your hand on the side of his face and gave him a sweet peck, and another, and another and one on his cheek and another on his lips until he cracked into a wide flustered smile.

“Is it better now?”

He nodded innocently and brushed off the ice on his clothes.

[throughthedirt]

Season 1: Chapter Nine

Previous Chapter — First Chapter

Miles

It didn't matter that I was just shy of turning 44 years old. The University of Oregon campus was nearly 300 acres of property housing nearly 23,000 students from around the world. Sure, the majority were teens and young adults, but there was no shortage of older individuals seeking education. More so, I didn't have to be a student. I could be a teacher, a maintenance worker, the IT guy, even a fuckin' janitor. For all anyone knew, I belonged here. And the way I walked through those grand, window-framed doors - people knew. I had a purpose. Showing no signs of hesitation, fear, or confusion, I waltzed my way throughout the campus. For nearly an hour, I roamed the campus freely and without even batting an eyelash to any other person. I was mostly ignored by those who did notice me. But for most, it was like I didn't even exist - just like the rest of them. I was just another body in a mass of humans. But I was here for a reason, and that was to fulfill a job and keep a promise; an agreement that got me freedom in 6. Kyle Turner. Kyle fucking Turner. "Fuckin' football prick raped my niece and got off scot-free," as Correctional Lieutenant Dave Ward would say. The very first words of his that changed the course of my history at Oregon State Pen. And I had read the reports, the articles, the media frenzy - all in prison. I knew what he had done, and he was guilty. But a fully-paid scholarship and a hell of a lot of "hush-money" got him nothing. Not even a smack on the wrist. He walked. Went free. And Ward's niece? Well, things didn't go so great for her. Fearing him, she refused her admittance into UofO, afraid she would see him again. So the fucker had to die. And now it was finally time. 

Approaching the glass doors of the Performance Center, I made a fatal mistake. Reaching my hand out to pull on the handle, the door stayed shut. It creaked as I tried to open it - but it was locked. "Uh, hello?" A large football player called to me in his confusion, his mouth agape and his eyes squinted as he made his approach. He was as heavy as he was tall; his long, afro-style hair alone adding inches to his height. "This building is for authorized personnel only..." He said to me, pulling a plastic card from behind him and slipping it through the swipe-pad beside the door. The pad flashed green and the door clicked. Unlocked. This place was advanced, way more security than I could have ever imagined. University of Oregon had changed in the last 6 years. Turning to him, I gave a toothy grin and begin to chuckle. "Boy do I feel old, huh." He looked at me, cautiously as he stood before the door. But I didn't let him disappear into the building before I extracted needed information. "I'm actually lookin' for someone - maybe you can help me..." I iterated, "One of your football mates, Kyle Turner." The player gave me a saucy eye glare. "What about him?" Pausing, I conjured the biggest load of shit I could muster up in 0.2 seconds. "My niece, you know-" I started to chuckle, so much so that it interrupted my speech. "Ah man, this is embarrasing on her part, but she's... she's a HUGE fan of his. And I mean HUGE. She has posters of him all over her room, you know?" "Uh-huh..." Little interest from him. Only suspicion. But I didn't let him get another word in. "I mean she's just nuts for college football. Strange for a girl, no? I guess the world is changin' and I'm far behind. Heh, heh, heh." I chuckled again, trying to fluster the boy with too much information for him to process. "But ANYWAYS -" I continued, "Her birthday's comin' up and I was hopin' to get maybe a... you know... surprise appearance from him?" There was a look of confusion on the poor boy's face. "WITH COMPENSATION, of course." Another smile. "Uhhhhhhhmm, righttttt." He replied. "Let me..." He struggled to respond. Possibly the weirdest request he'd ever received, surely. "Let me go see if he's here. I'll be right back." "Sure thing, but ah-!" I held my hand up, a signal for him to stop as he reached for the handle. "Allow me," Taking the door by the giant O shape in its handle, I pulled the steel frame open to allow for the jock to head in. In respect to him, I closed it behind him, locking me out of the building once more. I stood there waiting. Waiting patiently. With my hands stuffed in my pockets, I casually swayed my body and whistled a chirpy hymn. To my surprise, it took only minutes for the door to open again. And out came Kyle fuckin' Turner in the flesh. And he wasn't a teenager anymore. No... He was a man, now. "Uh, hi-?" Kyle would greet me, without so much as a formal introduction. Fuckin' millennials. It took me a moment to sink in his appearance. Tall, 6'1, still shorter than me. A big guy, no doubt. But size didn't matter when it came to murder. Only intent, motive, and calculation. "Yes! Kyle Turner." Pulling my hand from my coat pocket, I extended it to him. "My name is Angelo Rossi. It's great to meet you!" Turner took my hand, shaking it as firmly as I was squeezing. But as he had taken my hand in his, I had also raised my other free hand to firmly grip his bicep. A sort of gesture of greeting, but it secretly to scope his muscular size. "Yeah, thanks." The fucker would respond. Yeah, thanks? Really? Really. Releasing his hand, I returned my superior 6 foot 3 stance to it's upright position and gave a fake, cheery smile. "My niece, she's a crazy fan." Pulling for my wallet, I slipped out a photograph of a teenage girl. "Her name is Nakoma. She's... half native half Italian, like me. Heh." Kyle took the photo in his hand, his eyebrows raising at the beautiful young lady he saw in the picture. Perfect, interest. "A looker, I know. Causes me more problems, ya know?" I chuckled, taking the photo back. "So listen, I came here hopin' I could hire you. For a job, of sorts." Kyle crossed his arms before him and looked at me curiously. "Oh yeah?" "Yeah, man. I'm organizing Nakoma's 16th birthday and I really want to make it special. She has posters of ya' all around her room and I thought, pffftttt, what better to surprise her with her favorite football player? Every teenage girl's dream, right?" I laughed again, thinking the idea is silly, but might actually work. "Nothin' major. There's be about 30 of her girlfriends there hangin' around the pool-" Realizing it was January, I instantly corrected myself. "Indoor pool, at her father's place. Big place, you know?" Kyle's head was nodding - Still interested. "Figured you can drop by for an hour or so, or even less if you're in a crunch. Sign some autographs, take some pictures. Grab a bite to eat, whatever you want. There'll be plenty of food, cuz, well, Italians, am I right?" Laughing again, Kyle's interest seemed to only be piquing the more bizarre and outlandish the story got. "Sounds fun." He smiled, bringing his fingers to his lips as he pondered the thought of 30 hot teenage girls in their bikinis. "But uh-" He started to sway. "I don't know-" "I'll pay you $5,0000. Cash." I confessed. His eyes widened. "$2,500 for showing up. $1,500 for autographs and another $1,000 if you take some selfies. You know' - the girls thing. Selfies, heh." I paused, my eyes growing darker as they remained hidden behind Aviator shades. "What do ya' say? We got a deal?" Swiftly changing tunes, "You know what, don't sweat the decision now. There's a lot of politics in sports, I'm old. I know it." I waved my hand in typical Italian fashion. "You gotta' business card or somethin'?" "Uh, nah but I can give you my number-" Perfect. A rich white kid, hot-shot jock, AND a moron. This was too easy. Handing him the photo, he retrieved a pen from his pocket and jotted down his digits. "Wow, thanks man. I appreciate you considering this." I waved the photograph of "Nakoma" and slipped it back into my wallet. "I'll give you a call something this week. Talk it over with your coach or manager or whoever you kids report to, heh." I put my hand out for him to shake again, "And nice meeting you again."

—   —   —  

I found myself roaming the halls of University of Oregon on my attempt to exit the campus. My curious mind sent me further and further into the campus maze - a prestigious multitude of buildings and intricate floor plans; each with its own purpose, meaning, and unique design. Deep in UofO, I stumbled upon the Department of Fine Arts. The halls were brimming from floor-to-ceiling with murals and artwork. Slowing my pace, I stopped to appreciate the work. I had always had an affinity to for paintings. My eye had always found itself drawn to the color red. Red. My dark irises wandered the walls, finally pulling towards a large, 5 foot canvas. It soared above me - dazzling in its ocean of red. The painting was of a woman, presumably dripping in blood. A sort of, Queen of the Damned. Intrigued, my eyes shifted to the small plaque stuck to the wall by the corner of the artwork. Nicola Strom. My stomach sunk as my heart skipped a beat. "Crucifixion." The words rolled off of my lips. My head retracted slowly as my eyes closed. "Mmmm."

—   —   —  

January 20th, 2018 - Five days after release. Eugene, Oregon had been unusually warm for January. For the most part, it was sunny and rainy on-and-off, with an average high temperature of 45 degrees F. Too warm for snow. At least, not enough sub-zero temperatures to keep it for more than a couple days, anyways. Luckily for this lovely Saturday evening, the rain had stopped early morning and the skies were greeted by a brightening sun. Kyle parked his Trail-Rated Jeep cruiser in front of the colonial-century home, red-bricked mansion. He ducked his head, looking over the place with his pale eyes as he took in the sheer size of the place. Although Eugene was home to old money - big money - it was also commonly inhabited by the middle class. Whoever owned this place... wasn't a white-collar, middle class citizen. Exiting his truck, he approached the front door, which was lavishly decorated with a Sweet-Sixteen balloon bundle. A clear indication he was at the right house. As he rang the doorbell, it only took a few seconds before he was greeted by a familiar face. "Mr. Turner." I said, standing tall with my hand cemented firmly on the back of the door. It was the first time he was seeing my hazel-speckled brown eyes. It was also the last. "Cute." I blurted, subliminally mocking his uniformed self as my eyes gazed over his full-football get-up. Shredded sleeves to show his pectoral muscles. How sleazy. Helmet and all. How sweet. "Come join the fun." I smirked, guiding him through the front door. "But maybe take off the helmet." Chuckling, Turner cracked a smile as he took a step into the house - which was, unsuspectingly, filled with the sound of laughing girls. "Too much, huh?" Kyle joked, unclasping the helmet and slipping his head free. His back was to me as I closed the door. "I thought mayb-" The moment he turned to face me, my hand - hidden behind the door the entire time - swung straight for his head. A thin medical syringe pierced into the side of his neck - administered by my right hand - Gloved. Protected. Injecting the cocktail of muscle relaxants, Kyle quickly deteriorated in a matter of seconds. His initial reaction to grab for my hand, but by the time he could react - it was already too late. He was losing almost all of his muscle ability. One. Two. Three. He hit the ground, unable to move, unable to moan, unable to call for help. With his body curled in the middle of the hallway, his eyes remained open - panicked. Looking down at his 6'1, 200 pound physique - which had been reduced to nothing in just seconds - I shook my head. Pathetic. His eyes followed my every move. He was conscious. Awake. Aware. I stepped over him and walked past him like he didn't even exist. Stepping into my living room, I smiled at the sound of giggling teenage girls filled the open-concept space. Walking over to the stereo system, I grabbed the remote and clicked - Off. Silence. Girls? What girls. There were no girls. Returning to his paralyzed figure, I crouched down to brood over him. I tilted my head to the side and grabbed his face between my gloved thumb and fingers. Squeezing his limp cheeks between them as I leaned his head to look at me. "Oh, Kyle." I made clicking noises with the back of my tongue. "Remember her?" Pulling a photograph from my back pocket - Sarah Ward. "Yeahhhhh." I flicked the photo in his face, nearly submitting to my urge to spit on him. "You're gonna die tonight." There was a dark, unforgiving grimace that crept my cheeks. "And it's gonna fuckin' hurt." Two, single-drop tears fell from the corners of his eyes. Hours had passed. Daylight turned to dark as night loomed over the city. Darkness was here. And it didn't come from the sky, nor the sun. Using Kyle's keys, I exited the mansion on the quiet, quaint street. E 22nd Avenue - a large strip of homes graciously spread apart; separated by the comfort of many, decades-old trees. I pulled the vehicle into the long driveway, reversing it rear-forward all the way to the side of the house. Two garage doors welcomed the Jeep, closing behind the front of it. It remained utterly hidden, safe within the confines of the home's garage. It would remain there until 3:45 in the morning, and a storm was brewing. The sound of the garage door sliding gurgled as it swayed open. Keeping the lights of the Jeep off, I placed it into drive and pulled it out of my driveway. The garage door closed behind me automatically, dismissing any evidence it had ever harbored a crime scene. My heart remained regular - beating as it would driving any other vehicle, on any other day, under any other circumstances. Humming, I drove the few blocks between the mansion and the University Campus. The Jeep came to the vehicle entrance of the Oregon Autzen Football Stadium. Like everything within the Performance Center, it required a swipe card to be unlocked and accessed. Holding out Kyle Tuner's card, I flicked it between the pad and waited. Flashing green, the gates to the field slid open. Although forbidden to bring any vehicles directly on to the terrain, it was 3:50 in the morning, on a Saturday. Too late for any players to be hangin' around during off-season, and too early for any maintenance workers or cleaners to begin their services. It was pitch-black, and between the sticky snow and the blowing winds - visibility was poor. Reversing the trail-rated wrangler, I slowly backed it up on to the field, parking the trunk of the vehicle directly in front of the brightly-yellow painted goal-post. Exiting the vehicle, I was dressed from head-to-toe in Kyle's football uniform, with the addition of a black long-sleeved T-shirt underneath. No tattoos were visible. Virtually nothing about me was recognizable. For all intensive purposes, I could very well be Kyle Turner. Unlatching the trunk, it swooshed open. There lay the true Kyle Turner. The flesh and blood. And there was a lot of blood. Taking the thick, twisted rope in my hand, I ran it from the back of the truck to the goalpost. Tossing it over the post's T-center, I caught it back in my hand and ran it back to the truck. The end of the rope was supported by a curled grappling hook. Kneeling behind the trunk, I fastened the hook to the hitch on the Jeep and found my way back to the driver's seat. Pushing the gears into drive, I slowly began to inch the vehicle forward until the rope strained - pulling viciously with the weight. Metal to the floor, I forced the truck into overdrive, suddenly gunning it forward and sending the object in the trunk to veer out of the vehicle. Decelerating the tracks, I watched in my review mirror as the item - two strong planks of crossed wood - reeled up against the T in the yellow goalpost. As it mounted to perfect height, I slammed the Jeep in park, and swiftly - excitedly- hopped out of the truck. It started slow at first, my heavy, rumbling laughter. But it evolved, soon developing into a magnified, thrill-infused maniacal cackle. Victory.

—   —   —   January 21st, 2018 - The Discovery. The lights to the stadium flickered on - lighting the dark early-morning. The sun would not rise for another hour. And for a group of football jocks mucking their way to football practice, it would be a morning they would never forget. Wailing. Loud, incessant, uncontrollable wailing. The sound of screaming echoed throughout the stadium; hair-raising in its velocity, and intensity. The scene brought a grown, 21-year old man to his knees. Vomit projected from his chapped lips as he puked vehemently on the immaculate, freshly-snowed grass - staining it flaxen. It brought a wave of nausea to the entire team. Some cried, some collapsed, some gagged, heaved, hurled. But most... most stood in shock. Hailed before them was the body of Christ - a crucifixion of their most valued team member. There lay the body of Kyle Turner, naked and colorless, with only the stain of bleeding red that covered his postmortem flesh. His genitals were mutilated. His penis split in three different directions. He had been completely castrated; his balls were absent entirely from his groin. An indescribable amount of blood has been loss at its expense, leaving a blood-pour of red human serous to cascade down his legs. Cause of death? Blood loss. Slow, agonizing, harrowing blood loss. The cross hung from the center of the goalpost, the snow beneath his purple-faded feet red with blood. His hands were staked on either side; his ankles crossed and tied. His neck - the same color as his bruised toes - was mounted by barbed wire. His head bore the same fate - crowned like that of Christ with blood trickling from his scalp. RAPIST - Carved with a knife in to his forehead. SINNER - The words dripped from his abdomen in crusting blood, beginning to harden... but still moist. Fresh. —   —   —   "Shocking news this morning on KVAL-13." Smitha George - Live News Reporter, would announce on national television. "A tragedy has occurred at University of Oregon. Senior Football Quarterback Kyle Turner, Star of the Oregon Ducks, was found brutally murdered at the campus stadium." She would go on, standing unshaken in the parking lot of the Performance Center. "Police have ruled the case a homicide after teammates found Tuner's mutilated body crucified on the goal-post of the end field." Spilling too much information for her own good - reporters classically interfered with investigations; often jeopardizing their efforts. "His hands and feet were reportedly pinned to a wooden cross, and his head wrapped in barb wire. Teammates report that the words "Rapist" and "Sinner" were carved on his body..." "... And that his eyes and lips were painted red, with blood." "Turner's vehicle, a Black 2017 Jeep Wrangler - was found abandoned at the scene. Police are looking for any information that may aid their efforts in solving this terrible case." She paused, staring into the camera as her words fed into the lives of millions of Oregon residents. "I'm Smitha George, reporting LIVE for KVAL-13 News." The clip ended.

[geezertcyclist]

I have been meaning to add my list of lessons learned.  I include  it below. I also plan to post a list of where I stopped my bike each day, maybe in a few days. I hope this helps others trying to bicycle across the country.

Lessons learned:

Bullet points for those who don't want to slog through  the text: -Granny gear and preparation -Start date -Route planning     -Motels -Days off -Routine -Food -Bike trails I found -Equipment

Granny gear and preparation - I live in flat land, so it was very important to make some practice rides over the mountain passes in Washington. In 2016 and 2017 I drove out to Washington and rode my bike over the four mountain passes. I learned that I needed a granny gear to climb over those passes. My current lowest gear is 28 teeth on the front sprocket and 32 teeth on the rear. The mountain  passes in Washington are very long and steep, the most difficult climbs of the entire biking journey. I'm glad that I had the granny gear or this bike ride might have ended right near the start.

Start date - I planned to take a break around July 4th to attend some family get togethers.  So I decided to do half before the break and half after the break.  That put me starting on May 15. That is a very early start. I was lucky this year. Washington pass had opened  about a week before I started. I was also lucky that it did not snow on me while I was riding. Anyone starting this ride before June 15 has to be prepared  for snow on these mountain passes. 

Route planning - I planned to go from west to east and take advantage of the prevailing westerly winds. I used MapMyRide.com to plan out most of my daily routes.  But as I got close, I drove some of the route to see for myself. That was especially important on the Olympic Peninsula of Washington state. The official Olympic Discovery bike trail takes you on Highway 20 from the intersection of Highways 101 and 20, but the first 6 miles of Highway 20 are steep and winding.  There is no shoulder and with all the logging trucks and other traffic on highway 20, they recommend taking highways 104 and 19 to bypass this dangerous section. It is 20 miles farther. I took the bypass. I recommend that to anyone taking  this route. I originally planned to average 80 miles per day. While the  weather was cooler in May and early June, I was able to make a pace near that, but as the weather got hotter in July and August, I found that it was better to plan on 60 miles per  day. 

Motels - I planned this journey using the support vehicle driven by my wife. I had less gear on my bike because I could keep most of my gear in the car. Also the SAG vehicle could stop and help me with cool water on hot days and a dry place when it rained. At the beginning we thought that the car  could pick me up if  I did not make it all the way to the motel. Near the beginning we tried this. At Marblemount WA I was able  to go 20 miles extra one day. The  next day the SAG vehicle took me to that point. That made a 90 mile climb over Washington pass only 70 miles. But as we traveled farther, we found that it was  difficult to get both of us up and out of the motel  to take the bike to the starting point. Things worked better when I could wake  early and leave the motel by myself.    Then my wife could sleep in and check out of the motel about 10 am. She would stop by along the way and check on me about 11. Then proceed to the next city.  If I needed help, we had cell phones to keep in contact. 

Also my wife was the one who contacted motels and made reservations. We needed reservations ahead of time because many times the motels were full when we arrived. She checked out reviews on TripAdvisor and most of the time we had good places to stay. Over this whole trip we only had a couple places that were "dumps." But they were also the best spot in that city. Again this whole adventure would have ground to a halt without the help of my wife driving the vehicle and setting up the lodging. 

Days off  - From the beginning I planned to take Sunday off from riding. We would find a local church to attend and have one day out of seven to  rest and recuperate. I found that by doing this I was able to keep riding each day and each week I kept making progress.  At my age (67) I think that I needed that break.

We also planned a two  week break at the midway point. This was very good for recuperation of my body, but it also allowed me to have my bike get a tune up and a new chain.

Routine - As the journey progressed we settled into a routine. I pumped the tires up the night before. I would wake at 5:30 or 5:45. I would put on Boudreaux's Butt Paste and dress in my riding clothes. I would check the weather and review  the route for the day on line. I would do my stretches, lube the chain on the bike, check for my fluids and fruit. I took two Advils and ate breakfast. I usually started riding at 6:36. Near the last few weeks I would finish about noon or 1 pm.  We would check into the motel early. I would take a shower. Then eat some lunch. 

At the beginning we thought that I would have time to read books or perhaps sit in a chair to take a break along the way. We brought chairs and a box of books for the first half of the journey. We found that I had little time for either,  so we left these things behind on the second half of the ride. Less weight and less hassle. 

Food - I found that chocolate  milk was the best rejuvenating beverage at the end of  a day of riding. Most days I had a breakfast with eggs, potatoes, toast,  orange juice and  a banana.Each night I ate big - having steak or a large piece of chicken.  I only lost four pounds,  but I did lose about an 1 and a half off my waist. 

Bike Trails - I used the Olympic Discovery trail in Washington state. A key section  was under construction this  year, so I took Highway 101 for most of  the  Olympic peninsula. 

I found the Historical trail and took it through Kalispell MT. I used the North Star Bicycle Route in Minnesota toward St. Paul.  I also used the Mississippi River Trail from Hastings MN  into Iowa. 

Near Chicago I used the McHenry County Prairie trail, the Fox River Trail, the Prairie Path, and the Salt Creek trail.In Ohio I used the North Coast Inland Trail. I really liked the Western Reserve Greenway trail from Warren to Austinburg.

In New York I used Bike route 517 and Bike Route 5 (the Erie Canal Trail). I also used the Erie Canalway Trail. Route 5 is an on road signed trail,  while the Canalway trail is mostly on the towpath of  the old Erie canal. The Canalway trail went through Rochester without going  on surface streets. But in Syracuse I needed to go on surface streets through town.

The Cape Cod Rail Trail was very good, paved and shaded, but I only used it for about 5 miles total. 

Equipment - I mentioned about the granny gear above. I used a hybrid bike - The Specialized Sirrus Disc model purchased at the Wheel Thing in Lagrange Park IL.  The highest gear  was 48:11 front to back, and the lowest gear was 28:32 front to back. 

I used metal toe clips. They are no longer available commercially. Some of the metal toe pieces started breaking last  year.  One of my brothers fixed it with wires, but the other side broke in the last week. So I wired up the other side with green floral wire, as can be seen in the photo. On the last day I noticed that the other pedal broke. It is time to buy new ones. They will be plastic, and I have used plastic on  my other bike. It should work fine. I liked toe clips  over  cleats. That way I could use regular  gym shoes.  Others prefer cleats. This worked  fine for me.

[sallyannthearts]

Hiking for Princesses 2

How To Prepare for a Hiking adventure when You’re a City Princess

Pic: Day One when all was still well and I could still balance well enough on a steep rock to take this photo. 

A real princess is one who lives in fantasy whilst still having her toes touching reality, no matter how harsh it may seem. In that sense, signing up for this trip wasn’t on a silly girly whim. I knew that there’d be tough times ahead but I also didn’t want to think too much about it. 

One thing that I knew I’d be okay with and was ready to do was: NOT TO SHOWER FOR 6 DAYS... and probably crap in a hole in nature. 

I’d signed up before the summer holidays and told myself that I’d be dancing every single day at summer dance camp while hiking on the weekends to prepare for this feat. But just before the summer holidays began, I found myself with a severe ankle sprain after having fallen off a chair during a dance in Cabaret the Musical. I couldn’t walk properly for the next 1 month. Oh Oh. 

Pic: Early stages of rehearsal during Cabaret the Musical by ECM Paris at Theatre de la Variete, Paris. I wore heels to dance in the show. 

So, in total, Andro, reason 1/2 of why I was going for this torture trip and I only trained like, twice for the trip. The first time we did so was around our backyard from Paris 5th arrondissement to Parc Montsouris where we ended up having a tasty lunch with beers. 

Pic: If only she’d known back then what awaited her. 

The second time we ‘trained’ was in Dieppe with 8 bottles of milk in my bag pack and we walked over slippery rocks at the beach with the tide threatening to come in close to wash over us (dangerous thing to do). That was more like it and already, I thought I was dying from lack of stamina. I shivered at the thought of the 110km. But summer was very hot in Paris for the next remaining weeks so... we didn’t train anymore. 

Pic: Day One when we arrived at the first viewpoint/ eating place with LapDonalds hamburgers for sale and I thought this was going to be an easy breeze. 

SO, if you’re going to sign up for a Classic Fjallraven Hike or anything like that, one thing I do advise you is: TRAIN FOR IT or at least have good enough stamina because I have to thank the Gods for my youthful energy and dance background for having saved me by the latter. 

Also, another note that would be elaborated later: LEARN HOW TO USE YOUR EQUIPMENT because not everyone will be lucky enough to have an Andro to help you through it all. 

Pic: This is an Andro. He was the one who helped me and two other girls survive this trip by teaching us how to really set up our tent and to use our bunsen burners amongst other camping tricks.

Photo credit: Michael Mead (a.k.a Jesus because he came to join forces with the Andro to help us girls along the way; to be continued). 

Now question about your packing list, what do you really need in that bag of yours? 

I got most of my stuff from Decathlon and their equipment proved to be very good. My undergarments came from Ice Breaker, full 100% Merino wool of comfort and cleanliness which makes every cringing penny you spend SO worthwhile. 

YOUR HIKING PRINCESS PACKING LIST:  

1) A Waterproof Bagpack (YES WATERPROOF IN SWEDEN!!! You will soon read why.) Mine was a 60L one which was just enough and nice for a little body like mine. Anything lesser would be tough to keep everything in for a 6 day hike like this. It also comes with a waterproof bag cover, worth the buck! 

2) Waterproof Boots (Decathlon, mine came with pink laces!) I remember telling my boyfriend that I didn’t wanna get mud on them when I first used them. HA. Ha. 

3) CLOTHES: 

-Base layer: 100% Merino Wool bra and panties (Ice Breaker) Yes, they’re expensive but they’re well worth it! You’ll smell like roses even after six days of rain and not changing them. 

-Extra base layer (if it’s cold because the weather in Sweden can go from hot summer to freezing cold winter with snow): 100% Merino Wool long johns and top (or sleep naked in the ice cold like me because you love your sister more than your comfort and you gave her your long johns to sleep in whilst your soaking wet pants tried to dry in vain in the rain) 

-Middle layer: A odour-proof, sweat-proof basic T-Shirt (Decathlon) 

-Top Layers a.k.a the dozens of Jackets you’ll put on if it’s super cold: 

1st Jacket: Basic Fleece Polar (Mine was from Uniqlo) 

2nd jacket: Feather down Jacket (Mine was a pink one from Gap, pictured above) Get one that’s easy to pack and very light so that you don’t add more weight. 

3rd jacket: Waterproof & Windproof Jacket with Hoodie (Mine was a green one you see above from Decathlon, a $20 euros deal that saved my life!) 

-Rainy layer: Huge Poncho (Decathlon) that can fit your bag pack inside too. Choose wisely for you will look like hunchback or if you prefer, like my sister, a cute orange spongebob. 

Pic: The Orange Spongebob, nicknamed after my boyfriend when we were looking out for her in the distance.

-Head layer: A beanie because even your ears will freeze if you are blessed with weather like ours. 

-Neck layer: An all purpose scarf/headband (Decathlon) 

-Hair: Bring hair ties to tie your hair up! 

-Hands: Winter gloves that can withstand rain (Or 1 single glove because you love your sister and gave her yours only for her to find hers and lost 1 out of 2 of your gloves and so you continued the hike with one aching hand all the way) 

-Bottom Layer: One pair of Waterproof pants that can be turned into shorts (Decathlon); actually, bring 2 pairs because if it rains, I’d rather save you from the horrors of sleeping in 0 degree Celsius naked. Also, if you’re a less adventurous princess, sleeping in your bed with the same muddy pants may not be your cup of tea as I did during my adventure. 

4) FOOD & DRINKS: 1 Lifestraw water bottle 50ml (You’ll keep passing beautiful streams and rivers of nice fresh water but still this built-in filter assures 99,999% of bacteria and virus killed); 1 pot and pan with utensils, 1 bunsen burner beaker (they'll provide you with gas), 1 lighter or matches (bring your own and don’t make the mistake like us of sharing only one! But hey, now we have a matchbox from Salka as a souvenir!)  !!! Bring your own energy bars and chocolate and all that guilty crap you couldn’t eat back in the city because of well, fat. YOU CAN SNICKERS YOUR WAY THROUGH IT THIS TIME! Hello, guilt-free eating! 

Pic: DO NOT get the Creamy Salmon with Pasta from Real Turmat. Neither do I recommend the beef and lamb stews. Instead, the best were Chicken & Lime, Kebab Stew, Curry Chicken and Chilli Con Carne! 

5) BEAUTY: Vaseline (For your feet blisters), Blister pads & Hand plasters, thick creamy facial cream (with 20SF sunscreen in case you get some sun suddenly popping out), Flip Flops (Even in the cold, to let your feet breath), Toothbrush & Toothpaste (although I only used them twice in 6 days), polarised sunglasses, small microfibre towel, lip balm, hair oil, mosquito stick (in case), 1 roll of toilet paper, 1 small anti-bacteria hand wash. 

6) MEDICATION: Panadol, Diarrhoea pills, Muscle ache roll-ons (DO NOT get the ones that cools instead of heats else you’ll end up feeling intense cold on certain parts laughing in semi-hypothermia like me).

<!!! Contact Lenses: 

I’ve tried looking for blog posts about advice on wearing contact lenses when hiking and camping in the wild but to no avail. So here it is: TO WEAR OR NOT TO WEAR YOUR CONTACTS? 

Yes, YOU CAN WEAR THEM. How? Dailies. Wash your hands beforehand or use a small bottle of eyedrops to wash your hands and then put them on, preferably with the help of a tent if not you’ll be surrounded by three other people like my sister whilst she tried hard to put them on in the wind and rain.> 

7) Walking Sticks (2 of them because you’ll thank the vision of yourself at age 90 walking with these sticks when you’re at 25km and limping in the cold towards the next checkpoint) 

8) TENT (Spend on your tent, seriously! The Green ones most of the Singaporean team got from NatureHike was not suitable for the cold weather at all! Your Tent is your Home. It’ll motivate and help you to stay strong. More to come about my horror Tent story later) 

There goes, my Princess Hiker Packing List. I also brought a book and a packet of Monopoly deal, neither which were ever used. My bag was one of the lightest  from the start because we spent on the newest and lightest quality equipment, all of which your back and shoulders would thank you later. 

Pic: With one of the lightest bag packs at less than 10.5kg amongst the 2200 participants of this year’s Fjallraven that had an average of 15kg to a whopping 25kg+, I was set for a breezy walk, wasn’t I? 

So, with about $500 euros per person spent on equipment. I was ready for the 110km adventure wasn’t I? 

Click here to READ ABOUT THE WORST CLASSIC FJALLRAVEN SWEDEN 110KM HIKING YEAR EVER AND HOW IT BECAME THE BEST. 

[flightyrock]

Laundry Day

Summary: It’s laundry day for a certain pair of half ghosts.  But when Vlad digs deeper than he should, he finds more than dirty laundry, testing the bonds between father and son.

OR

A shameless fluff fic in which Vlad is too hard on himself (as usual), Daniel does his best to reassure him, and Vlad proves he is father of the year material.

Featuring: accidental naps, hugs galore, and rambling internal monologues.

Characters: Vlad Masters, Daniel Masters

Tags and Warnings: Father/son relationships, Backstory, Emotional fluff/pain, Really Long Flashbacks, invasion of privacy, miscommunication, allusions to suicide, hopelessness, fake science, grey ethics, fake medical jargon, dehumanization, Vlad’s special brand of angst, mild body horror, clichéd tropes, happy ending, cuteness

If you’re concerned, feel free to PM me and I will be more than happy to provide a detailed summary or tell you what parts to avoid.  All of the iffy ones, save for the emotional hurt/comfort, only last for a few paragraphs.  Most of them are contained in the flashbacks, which are in italics. But on a whole, it’s father/son fluff and feels.  Be safe!

Word Count: ~10,500

I’ll also make this available on AO3 for your viewing pleasure, since I know some people (myself included) prefer that format better.  But tumblr makes it easier to share, so that won’t be linked for awhile; I’m thinking a week?

Some notes before we dive in, since this is the first fic I’ve written in this particular universe, so there are a few (read: a lot) of things I need to cover.  Explanation and story under the cut!

Update:  This isn’t posting right, so I’m going to remove the links for now.  If this works, I’ll make a separate post with the links.

This fic takes place in what I’ve nicknamed the “Perfect Son AU,” an alternate universe to Danny Phantom where Vlad successfully created a clone, which he named Daniel.  It’s a working title, and someone else might have already come up with something better, but I’m running with it for now.

I did not create Daniel; he was originally introduced as an unnamed character along with a possible future version of Vlad in Butch Hartman’s second “Danny Phantom: 10 Years Later video.” All we’re told is that he’s a mixed clone of Danny and Vlad.

Of course, this premise has tons of potential, and several artists have created content for him.  I fell head over heels for @schnivel‘s interpretation; the designs and characterization are just incredible, and gave me that creative itch. I live for that cute picture of Vlad and Daniel at a Packer’s game.  There are also a bunch of doodles, and the tags provide fun details, hinting at character dynamics and firmly establishing Daniel’s presence in-universe.  The rest of his art is awesome, too; it’s incredibly expressive (facial expressions and body language are always SPOT ON), and he has some really neat OCs, so be sure to check him out!

Schnivel also took the time to chat with me, and answered many of my questions regarding Daniel’s characterization.  Thank you so much!

I discovered that other artists loved this version of the character as well, and during one of schnivel’s discussions with prom during one of @promsien‘s streams, she had the fun idea that Vlad knits Daniel sweaters, and heaven help anyone who ruins one of those.

Needless to say, this (and other details surrounding the fallout) gave me…ideas.  This incident is only hinted at in this fic, which started out as a cute 1500 word fluff piece I thought up on the bus back to school after Thanksgiving break.  But then plot and angst snuck in, and the characters just weren’t quite right, so four rewrites, 9000 words, and about two months later, here we are; the longest piece I’ve ever written.  

Keep in mind that this is just my interpretation of schnivel’s canon, based on details from several sources, so the events described here may or may not have occurred; essentially, it’s a fanfic of schnivel’s AU.

This story takes place after about a year after Daniel’s creation, in the transition period between schnivel’s 16 y/o and post puberty designs.  While not necessary to enjoy the story, I strongly recommend taking a look at these before you begin reading; you won’t be sorry.   Some other quick details to keep in mind:

1.  Daniel is still in high school, and is enrolled in Casper High.

2.  Daniel =/= Danny

3.  Yes, Daniel knows Danny and they do not get along.

4. Vlad and Daniel live together, and share a healthy (and frequently adorable) father/son relationship.  They get along incredibly well most of the time, and genuinely care about each other.  Vlad is finally happy (mostly), and it’s my favorite thing ever.  Do me a favor and do not tag this as ship, please and thank you.

5. Danny is not in this fic, but he is referenced a couple of times; once, confusingly, as Daniel.  (I’m sorry; blame Vlad.)  It’s not mentioned in this fic, but he doesn’t call Danny “Daniel” anymore, for obvious reasons.

Alright, enough notes!  I’ve rambled long enough!   Kudos to you for reading this far; I do think the context is necessary to fully appreciate this story, so if you skimmed, I completely understand, but I urge you to check out the five-point list and links  [sorry guys, removed these to see if they were the problem] above. And remember to check out @schnivel and @promsien.  Thanks, guys!  So, without further ado, enjoy!

“Daniel, laundry!”

The amiable call echoed off the interior walls of a luxurious but tasteful mansion overlooking Amity Park; walls that had changed extensively in the past year.  Previously, the nondescript barriers existed out of necessity, stabilizing the considerable load of the structure and dividing too much space into too many cold, empty rooms.  

One wall in particular, located between the entry and the main staircase, changed dramatically, and now proudly announced to visitors that two shared the space, and quite happily at that.

An eclectic selection of frames housing amateur photographs were mounted artfully in a quantity bordering on excessive.  From this, an outsider could reasonably assume that the curator was either an overly-enthusiastic hobbyist or a new parent.

In this case, both assumptions would be correct.  Indeed, most of the photos focused on a single boy, specifically, a teenager, sporting unique, striped locks and a smile.  

But this wasn’t your average, awkward, get-me-out-of-here, oh-my-god-are-we-still-not-done-taking-pictures-yet kind of smile that most teenagers plastered on instinctively to escape the camera: No, this was a genuine, candid expression of happiness that would make any photographer worth their salt dissolve into blissful tears.  It would have been hard to believe the boy was truly a teenager, if not for the distinctive, almost puppy-like proportions that suggested there was still growing left to do.

He was occasionally joined by an older gentleman wearing a smile of his own; more guarded, but no less genuine.  In these photos, the boy veritably beamed at the camera or the man himself, expression all the brighter in his company, leaving no doubt just who was responsible for cultivating such joy.  Likewise, the boy coaxed the man out of his shell, steadily transforming a shyly quirked corner of the mouth into a joyful grin as the series progressed.

The gentleman in question was currently strolling around the house, dressed casually in socks, slacks, and a button-down.  His sleeves were neatly rolled above the elbows, exposing muscular forearms that strained to maintain an awkward hold on the large basket of casual wear.  His burden couldn’t have been too cumbersome, however, as he took a moment to admire the photo wall, as he always did.

He shifted the basket, clamping it against his left hip with the same arm, freeing his right to compulsively straighten an already perfectly-aligned portrait of the boy, providing an excuse to linger.  

It was one of his favorites; a candid shot he had snagged during one of their first snows together.  He was quite proud of it.  Daniel kneeled on the plush window seat, dwarfed by the dual floor-to-ceiling windows.  His features were alight with childlike wonder and the soft, winter sun, breath fogging the glass as he peered out of the pane, entranced by dancing flakes.  Vlad’s eyes grew misty, recalling cold, damp clothes, laughter, and hot chocolate   His shoulders softened a touch, mouth pulling upward fondly.

The reverie was broken by an uncomfortable burn in his forearms as the basket slipped slowly downwards under gravity’s influence, prompting him to readjust his hold and resume his search.  

It was that time of year again; the relentless heatwave had broken at last.  Residents of Amity Park gave a collective sigh of relief, enjoying cool days and brisk evenings just shy of uncomfortable as summer gave way to autumn.  Full suits were no longer suffocating.  And football season was in full swing.

In short, life couldn’t be better.  There was something invigorating about the crisp, cool air that accompanied the changing seasons, putting Vlad in the rare mood to do some tidying.  Housework was a small pleasure he had rediscovered recently; busy hands left the mind free for reflection, something that Vlad wasn’t as eager to avoid these days.  The reason for this?  Well…

“Daniel!” he called again, perplexed by the continued lack of response from his young charge.  No, his son, he reminded himself, distracted for a moment by the thrill of excitement and anxiety that still shot through him at that thought.  Against all odds, he was a father.  

He savored the feeling as he searched, peeking around the corner to the living room on a whim, and bit back another call.  Warm affection swelled in his chest at the rare and, admittedly, adorable sight.

His son, Daniel, was sprawled lengthwise across the couch, out like a light.  Sleep had hit him hard and fast; the awkward position of his limbs was telling, and looked anything but comfortable.  

A socked foot was braced on the floor while its twin was slung over the couch’s far arm, still trapped in a sneaker, laces tangled from an abandoned attempt at removal.  One arm hung limply to the side, while the other was likely going numb, trapped against the back and beneath the Maddies, who were taking full advantage of their human’s compromised position.  

The opportunistic felines were curled up on the half-ghost’s broad chest, passive-aggressively close to one another, soaking up the warmth.  Like many cats, they managed to radiate smug bliss even from the depths of slumber, much to Vlad’s amusement.  

He really couldn’t blame them.  Naps for Daniel were a rare occurrence, after all; the boy rarely slowed down long enough.

But Vlad had almost forgotten what else autumn meant; school was once again in full swing.  A ridiculous amount of coursework accompanied Daniel’s ambitious class load, pushing the limits of an already-taxing daily schedule.

In addition to coursework, he participated in several extracurricular activities, made time for friends, and dedicated himself to a rigorous training and tutoring regimen of Vlad’s own design. No wonder the boy was exhausted.

Not that he had so much as hinted at fatigue, eager to prove himself.  

Vlad mentally shook his head, pride mixing with fond exasperation.  He had, admittedly, forgotten just how difficult it was to be a teenager (though he thinks he can be excused for this oversight given that it’s been over twenty years since then; twenty long years).  He vaguely recalled expectations to tackle a workload any self-respecting, paid employee would strike over.  

Daniel, like many teenagers, did that and more with only a fraction of useable energy at his disposal at any given time, resources diverted to accommodate the emotional and physical stress the body underwent as it matured.  Puberty had hit Daniel late and with a vengeance.  The boy had been shooting up like a weed lately, the gap between his cuff and ankle widening at an alarming rate (not surprising given the state of the pantry at the end of any given week; the teen had to be burning through massive amounts of energy in the process).  

As his coach, Vlad had noticed he was struggling physically; his center of balance shifted so rapidly he just couldn’t keep up.  Daniel’s frustration was all but tangible at times, face heating with anger and humiliation when he fumbled through warm-ups and drills that had once been simple. Recently, more often than not, he left their practice sessions drained and irritable, shower doing little to dispel a dark mood that carried over into their evening lessons.

Vlad wondered if he was sleeping enough.

Judging from his current state alone, the poor boy needed all the rest he could get.  Vlad quelled a rush of remorse for pushing him so hard, reminding himself that Daniel had set the pace.  

Insisted, really.  He was normally eager, almost desperate, to improve, diving into training with a single-minded intensity that rivaled Vlad’s own.  Daniel had protested furiously when Vlad had suggested they take it a bit easier during the school year, pushing himself even harder.

Vlad chuckled fondly; Daniel was his son, after all.  But perhaps he could persuade him to revise their schedule to an every other day kind of thing; in hindsight, it was a bit ambitious to have lessons and physical training on the same day…

Musing about schedules, he set the basket aside and approached, debating whether the merits of repositioning gangly limbs into a more comfortable position outweighed the risk of waking the boy.  

No, better to let him rest. He was young, after all; he probably wouldn’t suffer from the stiff neck Vlad wouldn’t admit to getting if he slept at the demonstrated awkward though, admittedly, impressive angle.  (His neck definitely did not twinge in sympathy. He wasn’t old.)

He settled for carefully prying off the remaining shoe before unfurling a fuzzy throw that hung over the back of the couch, settling it gently over long legs, careful not to disturb the felines.  They, of course, would have no such qualms about waking Daniel in their subsequent bid for freedom should they be trapped beneath the heavy fabric.

His fond gaze migrated upward upon completion of his task, settling on Daniel’s face, relaxed in slumber. It was a rare treat to observe his son in such a peaceful state, and he was somewhat tempted to take a picture (too bad his camera was in his room).  

Daniel looked so young this way.  The man’s eyebrows bunched, oddly nostalgic as he took in the boy’s strengthening features, an early sign that he wouldn’t be one for much longer.  Soon, soft lines would vanish completely, giving way to the strong jaw and defined cheeks that were already taking shape.  

He would miss these days. Vlad felt an irrational surge of longing and loss, feeling absurdly cheated out of the early years, of a tiny Daniel smiling at him, of endless questions and childlike wonder (which was absolutely insane, considering he didn’t even like children.  There was a reason he’d decided to create a teenaged clone).  But if that was the case, Vlad supposed he wouldn’t be the Daniel he knew now.  It was probably for the best.

He sighed, and ran a gentle hand through thick stripped locks, marveling at the silky softness as it slid through his fingers.  It really was getting long, Vlad thought idly, scratching lightly across the scalp, delighted when the crease between Daniel’s eyes smoothed, and he sunk deeper into sleep with a content sigh.

Vlad lingered for a moment before withdrawing reluctantly, gathering up the basket again with a sigh of his own.  A nap would do the boy good, he reminded himself, so he’d best leave Daniel to it.

Of course, this meant he was back to square one with the laundry.  He was looking for Daniel in the first place to gather his dirty clothes so Vlad could start a load or two before dinner.

Well, perhaps he could still do that.  He could always take a detour into the boy’s room himself.  He was certain Daniel wouldn’t mind the intrusion; after all, he was simply retrieving laundry, so he wouldn’t be there long.

Decision made, he turned back, pausing to empty his basket in the laundry room before ascending the stairs once again to the wing that housed their personal quarters, hesitating for a moment before cracking open the door and entering Daniel’s room.  

It was strange, being here without the room’s main occupant.  He felt a bit like an intruder.  The space was shockingly well-kempt for belonging to a teenager, not that he was surprised; Daniel was hardly your average teenager.  

As expected, his dirty laundry was in the hamper, and Vlad wasted no time in sorting through it.  

Something was off, though. Vlad lived with his son, so of course he noticed that Daniel had started sweater season as soon as he no longer ran the risk of suffering heat stroke.  That meant there should be about two weeks’ worth of ripening knitwear, as none had been sent out recently.  But there were none to be found in the hamper, and, despite the fibers’ natural resistance to sweat and grime, it was certainly time for a wash.

Most, if not all, of Daniel’s sweaters were handmade, knitted by Vlad himself, so required special care.  He supposed Daniel could be keeping such garments separate in a display of caution. Conscientious, as always.  

Not that it was necessary; Vlad only hired the best, and, of course, always ran a brief inspection of the sorted garments before they were taken to the proper cleaning facilities. Details meant everything in his line of work, and his appearance was one of many he monitored personally.  Sure, he was a billionaire, and could afford purchase a new wardrobe any time he wished, but it hadn’t always been this way. He was taught to take pride in his possessions, and waste was unthinkable; far be it for him to neglect his roots.

Shaking himself out of his musings (he certainly was distracted today), he got back to the task at hand; finding the sweaters.  He supposed he could simply wait and ask Daniel during their evening session, but leaving the job half-done would bother him.

Vlad was a completionist to a fault, and knew that if he put this off, he ran the risk of losing his productive mood.  Not to mention the thought of the laundry sitting half-finished would torture him all evening; it would have been better to have not started at all.  And he wouldn’t wake the boy.  But this also toed the line of invasion of privacy.  

He weighed his options, and decided that a taking a brief look couldn’t hurt; he was already here, after all. In such a neat space, there weren’t exactly an abundance of hiding places.

He checked the walk-in closet first.  A thorough search left him baffled by the complete lack of sweaters, dirty or otherwise. He had checked the drawers (meticulously folded), hangers (formal wear was sorted by degree of formality then color), and even the floor (his shoes were lined up so perfectly he put showrooms to shame).

Daniel clearly treasured his possessions, and Vlad felt a rush of pride.  His son kept his space in perfect order, and everything had a logical place.  Except for the sweaters, it would seem.  Which didn’t make any sense.

His frustration grew as he continued to pace the room and failed to find a single one.  He was running out of ideas, and was uncomfortable at the thought of exploring much further.  On a whim, he ducked his head under the bed, admittedly feeling a bit foolish; this was one of the oldest clichés in the book.

But his eyes were immediately drawn to a large cedar chest, a copy of the one he himself used for keepsakes.  He had forgotten the boy had one as well; Daniel had been delighted with the gift, especially when Vlad had shown him the contents of its twin in his private study.

Vlad slid the heavy container out, running a hand across the sanded, weighty lid, hesitating for only a moment before giving in to his curiosity and lifting it before he could change his mind.

Sure enough, here were Daniel’s sweaters.  He let out a breath he wasn’t aware he’d been holding.  Mystery solved.  The quantity bordered on insane, way more than he remembered making, Vlad observed somewhat sheepishly.  What could he say?  He was a stress knitter.  

But he was particularly fascinated with the way the garments were packed.  Despite the large quantity, each sweater was folded with a degree of precision that spoke wordless volumes of care.  Handmade garments often had quirks; small flaws that made each piece unique, making it nearly impossible to pack them away neatly.  Daniel had somehow managed it by treating each sweater as an individual, modifying his folding technique slightly to ensure optimal fit.  Even the dirty ones were carefully folded, and placed on the smaller, right-hand side of the central divider.  It made his closet look sloppy in comparison.

Reluctant to ruin what was clearly several hours of work, Vlad carefully flipped through layers of sweaters, separated with tissue paper, the garments growing smaller as he descended. He was sure most of these didn’t have a hope of fitting Daniel any longer.  

One stood out from the others, though.  It rested at the very bottom of the heavy chest, and was individually wrapped, obscured by many layers of delicate tissue and tied loosely with string.  This deviation from the established system sparked Vlad’s curiosity further, overriding common sense, and before he knew it, he was carefully removing the wrappings.

He wasn’t sure what he had been expecting, but it wasn’t this.  

He drew in a sharp breath, unnerved, and delicately traced the ragged edge of a black-rimmed tear with shaking fingers, transfixed.  It extended downward from right shoulder to sternum in a great slice, like it had been severed with a hot knife.  

Bafflingly, someone had also gone to great lengths to attempt repair; the edges were joined with neat, if pointless, stitches.  Only the lack of patching material revealed that this was a rush job.  Admirable effort, but an exercise in futility nonetheless; nothing could hope to fix the charred edges.  

The garment was utterly ruined.  No wonder Daniel kept this one covered so well; it likely brought back unpleasant memories, but the boy clearly didn’t have the heart to get rid of it.

Upon closer inspection, Vlad realized he recognized this sweater.  The vague unease grew into a feeling far more unpleasant.

It was the first one he’d ever made for Daniel, not that he’d known that at the time.  It had been started with his own dimensions in mind, but modified on a whim; gold and green, stitched together with hands bathed in the eerie green glow of the incubation chamber.  

He had been a different person then, twisted by hatred and blinded by his obsession with the Fentons.

Each stitch had been formed in bitter anger, to keep him grounded, patient.  Clicking needles helped to cover up the maddening hiss of the central air system and the relentless beep of monitoring equipment.

He knew at his core that this would be the last plot, his last attempt to take what was rightfully his; should he fail yet again, the fallout would be devastating.  He would be unable to stop himself from giving up, from descending irrevocably into madness.  Because at the end of the day, hate was all he had, his only constant along with his pride. But hatred took energy, and he was tired.  So tired.

Lips curled in disgust as he ran the clumsily-constructed fabric sitting in his lap through his fingers, reliving the turmoil through the record of amateurish mistakes that littered the garment.  Each pucker and twist, invisible to the untrained eye, glared at him accusingly, reminding him of sins he could never atone for.  Made him sick with guilt as they whispered to him, reminded him of a time when Daniel had been merely an “it” and “the clone,” a tool he had every intention to use for revenge.

He was practically living in the dim, sterile, underground room, on standby to respond in a moment should the clone destabilize again.  He couldn’t remember the last time he had slept in his own bed (he kept a cot down here), gotten more than two consecutive hours of sleep, or eaten something more substantial than the occasional protein bar. He carefully refrained from imagining the state of the companies he was neglecting.

But this stage of the project was too unpredictable to leave unattended, the clone’s outline in the cloudy fluid filling the tube bobbing peacefully up and down, blissfully unaware that its existence could end in an instant.  But he wouldn’t let that happen.  He would have his prize.  With a completely obedient half ghost by his side, he would rule.  He had taken no chances, had combined a stolen sample of the Fenton boy’s DNA with his own.  It was his ultimate weapon.  No one would be able to stop him. No one could keep him from his rightful place.

But throughout human history, it is in moments like these that astounding things can happen.  Picture a person building a perfect pyramid, finally reaching the absolute top, standing on that tiny, sharp pinnacle, at the very highest they can go.

It is when we are at this peak, feel the most unstoppable, have the firmest foundation, are the most confident in our convictions, that the smallest breeze can topple us over and force us to rethink the foundations of our self-constructed realities as we fall, force us to shift our reality; rebuild, or cease to exist.  

It is the small things that shake us to the core, that have the power to change us forever.

Be it stroke of luck, fate, divine intervention or pure coincidence, one such moment occurred in that sterile lab when a rare set of circumstances coincided.  The fluid ensconcing the clone ran clear for several minutes, reflex prompted new eyes to flutter open, and Vlad happened to look up.  

And looked into a familiar set of blue eyes that he hadn’t seen anywhere other than a mirror since his mother had passed away all those years ago (he had searched for her desperately after he learned the nature of his transformation, to no avail).  They may have been obscured by fluid, but the shape and shade were unmistakable; they were her eyes.  His eyes. Staring unseeingly back at him.

It was…disturbing, to say the least.  Blame it on sleep deprivation if you will, but he felt his mother’s eyes cut right through him, accusingly, judging him for his behavior in her absence.  Forcing himself to do something he had done his very best to avoid, in a way only she ever could.  

So Vlad Masters took an honest look at himself for the first time in several decades.  

And he wept, because he knew that she didn’t like what she saw, was disappointed in him.  He had known this, on some level; it was why he had been putting off this realization for years.  But, he was surprised to find that she wasn’t disappointed he had fallen so far; no, because she knew and he knew now, too, that he had fallen.  Which meant that he was capable of picking himself back up and hadn’t. He had chosen not to, had chosen temporary comfort over the harder but healthier path.  But he could do better.  He would do better.  If not for her than for himself.

And on that paradigm shift, he rebuilt his world.  The eyes closed.  

And Vlad, with fresh eyes, truly looked into the face of the being he created for the first time.  But dread overtook him when he realized he wasn’t seeing the face of a clone.  No, instead, he was looking into the face of a child.

It took him back to the first time he had met young Daniel at the college reunion, blindsided by an irrational rush of paternal pride and unspeakable longing to get to know this boy, realizing that he wasn’t, didn’t have to be alone anymore. (How wrong he was).

That familiar, fierce longing again surged to the surface, become part of his world once again.  A desire he had buried long ago when the hopelessness simply became too much to bear.

All he had ever wanted was someone to love.

He thanked everything he could think of that he hadn’t started the programming, that is, the brainwashing, yet. And he wouldn’t.  He’d keep the basic learning protocols, so the boy could communicate, have basic knowledge about the world, but nothing else. If he wanted a son, he’d earn his trust and affection the old-fashioned way.  The right way.

But he was forgetting something.  New hope warred with sick dread.  But why? What threatened his happiness now? Because this being he created wasn’t a tool, this was a child.  His child. So still.  So fragile.  

The realization opened the floodgates, and he fought to keep the rush of panic at bay. What had he done!?

Once again, in a display of arrogance and ignorance, he had put someone at risk.  He already cared too much about the boy, was once again on the verge of losing everything. Because the child, Daniel, was dangerously unstable.  He could die.

Vlad couldn’t let that happen.  

For the first time in years, he was truly terrified of the consequences of failure.  Because he wasn’t used to consequences.  In an instant, the project had evolved into a horrible tightrope walk between life and death. He hoped the anxiety wouldn’t kill him first.

It was touch and go for a small eternity.  Vlad lost sleep, hair, and his lunch to far more close calls than he cared to recall.  He was certain he aged about twenty years that month, trapped in a micro-hell of his own design; he still had nightmares about that innocent face devolving into ectoplasm, but awake, screaming in agony from the confines of the tube at a pitch that made his hair stand on end…

Vlad mentally shook himself. No.  He thought about this quite enough at night, no sense in dwelling on it during waking hours as well.  

Preoccupied with the stressful task of keeping Daniel alive, sleeping in the lab even after the boy had stabilized out of sheer paranoia, he realized he was woefully unprepared to care for a child; embarrassingly so.  He panicked when Daniel emerged from the tube, realizing he hadn’t given a thought about basic needs.  Like clothing, for example.  

His “newborn” was freezing; his small frame shook uncontrollably in the thin sterile gown as he was propped upright on a cot so Vlad could monitor his vitals, a pile of medical blankets doing little to combat the chill. The boy was in tears; uncomfortable and confused, agoraphobic and overwhelmed by this strange new world, so Vlad had grabbed the completed sweater instinctively and helped the boy into it, hoping the warm weight would ground him, rambling about inconsequential things to distract from the alarming machines as he worked to reattach feeds and wires.

He cringed; in hindsight, he had risked further overstimulation that way, and the outcome could have been disastrous.  His palms still grew slick with cold sweat, and his blood pressure skyrocketed whenever he thought about everything that could have gone wrong, all the mistakes he had made in those early days.  He cursed his stupidity.  

Vlad shook off his self-disgust in favor of gathering up the old sweaters, having forgotten his original task, otherwise occupied with the chaos of his memories.  They didn’t fit Daniel any longer, so there really wasn’t any sense in keeping them.  

It was embarrassing how amateurish they looked now.  They were an unwelcome reminder of a time when he was at an absolute low.  He just wanted them gone.  Especially that first one.  The marred fabric seemed to mock him.  Yes, better to dispose of it, and bury the anxiety and fear that came with it.

He gathered his legs under him with mild difficulty, surprised to discover he was a bit stiff—he had been kneeling on the floor longer than he thought—and glanced up at the doorway.

Only to lock eyes with Daniel, who stood, gaping, in the doorway, hand frozen in an abandoned attempt to straighten tousled locks.  Tension radiated from his too-still frame, and wide eyes flickered from confusion to shock to panic.

Vlad froze as well, uneasy; he had never seen this look in the boy’s eyes before, and never cared to again.  Sick dread pooled heavily in his stomach as all other thoughts evaporated; he knew without a doubt that something was very wrong.

“Dad,” Daniel whispered, hand dropping abruptly.  “What are you doing with those?”

His gaze lowered, fixed on the pile of sweaters in Vlad’s arms.  Vlad looked down as well, and blinked, bemused by the sudden lack of sweaters there.

Daniel hugged the garments to his chest tenderly, like a young child would cuddle a favorite stuffed toy for reassurance after a scare.  In moments like these, Vlad was reminded of how new to the world the boy really was; it was too easy to forget when he wore the skin of a teenager.

A familiar, irrational stab of loss joined the budding guilt and self-loathing; that strange yearning for early years that never occurred.  

Nostalgia must be a theme today, he thought idly.

Reason returned as he watched Daniel drop carefully to his knees a deliberate distance away to begin refolding the stack.  Vlad’s inquisitive and concerned gaze was studiously avoided as the boy focused entirely on the task at hand.

Careful hands guided handmade fabric into precise creases reverently, deep blue eyes gleaming with a look of concentration so intense, it might have been comical under different circumstances.  If he didn’t recognize the carefully constructed front for what it was.

Upset was an understatement; and despite an admirable effort, Daniel was unable to conceal the slight tremble that made his hands clumsy and slow, an obvious tell that only intensified the harder he tried to hide it.  

Overall, he gave the impression of one who had survived a close shave.  As the shock slowly abated, Vlad’s mental alarm bells became more insistent.  This reaction was a bit extreme, even for someone experiencing the emotional fragility that was part and parcel of an unplanned nap.  Something wasn’t quite right; he was missing some crucial detail.

“Daniel, what…” Vlad trailed off, at a loss, hands reaching toward the boy helplessly, then falling short, uncertain.  “What did I—”

“You were going to get rid of them, weren’t you.”

It wasn’t a question. The words were tight, clipped. His eyes remained fixed studiously downward, even though it was obvious that he wasn’t truly looking at the abandoned sweater in front of him, fists clenched in an a futile attempt to suppress trembling fingers.

Daniel abruptly rocked back on his heels and wiped roughly at his face, shattering the invisible barrier between them, allowing Vlad to finally take action.  He scrambled in his haste to close the gap.  

He gathered the boy clumsily into his arms, and Daniel practically melted into the firm embrace before returning it fiercely, clinging to him in turn.  A striped head filled his peripheral vision, resting its comfortable weight on his shoulder, and soaked the light fabric covering it in warm wetness.

It was unclear how long they remained that way, respecting an unspoken agreement to set aside the circumstances for awhile in favor of comforting another; indulging in the unique security that came from holding a kindred spirit close.  

After a while, Daniel pulled away reluctantly, sniffling wetly and wiping halfheartedly at his nose. Vlad produced a fresh handkerchief and settled into a cross-legged position, facing the teen, waiting patiently for him to collect himself while he gathered his own thoughts.

“I apologize, Daniel,” he began, slowly, when the sniffles had eased, and the boy settled into a similar position, rolling edges of soft fabric anxiously between his fingers as he met Vlad’s gaze.

“I didn’t mean to upset you. I know that I am at fault here, but I do admit that I’m not entirely sure what exactly I did to cause you this much distress.  Regardless, I should not have been in your room or searched through your things without your express permission.  I knew better, but I did it anyway.  I invaded your privacy, and for that, I am sorry.”

Daniel maintained eye contact, reddened and puffy appearance doing nothing to diminish the sincerity evident in their depths.

“I forgive you.”

There was no hesitation. The honest declaration mowed through Vlad’s emotional barriers, and his vision blurred as identical blue eyes prickled with tears of their own.  

He bit his lip.  His mistakes had long entrapped him, clinging fast and weighing him down.  Experience taught him that, once made, he would never be rid of them.  This knowledge, this fear, were iron shackles. It was his curse.  But this boy…

Never before had he known such forgiveness.  

Daniel absolutely hated to see his dad cry.  There was just something fundamentally wrong about seeing someone you cared about in distress.  So he was quick to reassure, hoping to fend off the flood and the inevitable interrogation.

“There’s really no harm done.  They’re all here, they’re safe.”

Honestly, this assurance was just as much for himself.  Of course, he would have forgiven Vlad regardless of the outcome; his dad was way more important to him than keepsakes, but this had come completely out of left field.  

He had always been so careful, and seeing his collection spread across the floor had been the last thing he had expected after trudging upstairs to finish his homework before training, cursing himself bitterly for falling asleep.    

He had really only meant to rest his eyes for a second or two, having gone distractingly cross-eyed while undoing his laces, falling instead into the deep kind of sleep that left one feeling fuzzy-headed and irritable upon waking instead of rested.

Daniel looked over at his favorite sweater, the one he had taken the most care to preserve.  As always, fury at the damage was tempered with fond warmth.  He flushed lightly, briefly recalling the circumstances of its repair.

His dad, who had since pulled himself together, followed his line of sight, brows drawing together in confusion, focused on the blackened article.  

“Why keep these?  Most are much too small, and this one,” he pulled the garment closer, “is damaged beyond repair.”

Daniel’s hands twitched instinctively, ready to come to the rescue at any moment.  

Honestly?  The thought of getting rid of them had never even crossed his mind, so he hadn’t.  And he felt much too strongly about the garments to ever consider it.

But his dad was looking at him expectantly, obviously waiting for an answer.  He had no idea how to put his jumbled thoughts and feelings on the matter into words, so he called upon the time-tested art of stalling.

“But you made them for me,” he settled on a basic truth, trying to buy a bit of time as he scrambled, struggling to string his thoughts into a pattern his dad would accept.

“I can make more, you know,” Vlad pointed out reasonably.  “There’s no sense holding on to something that’s outlived its usefulness. At this point, they’re just clutter—”

“They’re important to me!” Daniel snapped, and Vlad blanched, drawing back in shock.  

Daniel’s eyes widened, immediately regretting his outburst.

He didn’t mean to yell at his father!  But that statement hit distressingly close to home.  It was like Vlad wasn’t talking about the sweaters at all.  For a moment, his nightmares were playing out before his eyes…

He forcefully shoved his insecurities to the back of his mind in favor of running damage control; he had hurt his dad, and he looked on guiltily as his father struggled to school his features into a neutral position.

“I’m sorry, Dad!” Daniel rushed to explain, mentally kicking himself for his tone.

“I would never get rid of these.  I just can’t. You spent so much time on them, and it makes me feel cared for, kind of important, you know?”  

He traced the hem of the special one, eyes softening as his face heated up, but he was determined to get this out before he could talk himself out of it.  “Not to mention they’re basically portable hugs.  You’re with me all day this way.”

He hadn’t exactly wanted to give quite that much away.  But if he had to choose between his pride and his dad, his dad would win every time. It was the truth, after all, and he knew he had made the right choice when his dad’s eyes softened, and he was swallowed in his embrace once again.

Daniel had learned a long time ago that his father’s hugs went beyond the physical; they were part of an extensive nonverbal language, expressing what words simply could not.  

Because he maintained a stern public image, a necessity in his line of work, most people didn’t realize that his father was a very emotional man.  Daniel had seen how often he was misunderstood and slighted by his peers (to Daniel’s fury) because they never experienced this.  

For someone who claimed to have little experience in the area of affection, he sure didn’t act like it. Daniel still had no idea how he managed it, how exactly he coordinated the variations of timing and pressure into such clear but complex expressions.  This time, Vlad was conveying relief, awe, gratitude, and as always, more than anything, love.

The guilt intensified, sitting heavy and low in his stomach.  He didn’t deserve this.  He’s such a hypocrite, furious when others fail to appreciate his father, but hasn’t he done the same thing?  Vlad cared so much, almost too much, about other people; he would do anything for the ones he loved, for Daniel.  Anything.  And yet, Daniel was upset because he had tried to declutter.

Of course, Daniel is fully aware that this isn’t exactly the reason he’s upset, but he’s very careful to avoid the thought.  Now is not the time to think about this.  It’s much easier to tell himself he’s simply sentimental.  Nothing else.  

Vlad’s grip tightens almost imperceptibly, seeking reassurance, and Daniel pushed aside the painful train of thought, eager to provide it.  

He returned the embrace fiercely; he loves his dad more than anything, and he was determined to convey this. He knows he can’t hold a candle to Vlad’s raw skill in this area, but that doesn’t stop him from trying.

He must have succeeded to some degree, because he feels his dad relax a bit.  Daniel sighed, settling his head once again onto a broad shoulder, still a bit damp from earlier, and takes the opportunity to burn this moment into his memory, to add it to his collection.  

He savored the slight tickle of grey locks on his upper check, sprung loose from their ties; the pleasant burn of cologne mixed with a scent that was simply Vlad drying his sinuses and coating the back of his tongue; the unnatural heat radiating through his silky shirt, warm and comfortable. For a small eternity, he knows nothing but safety, comfort, and love, and basks in the feeling.  

They eventually break apart and, once again, take a moment to collect themselves before Vlad looks again to Daniel’s favorite sweater.

“What happened?” he ventured, concerned by the implication that someone had attacked his son in human form (and rightfully so), but reluctant to upset Daniel further.

Daniel gathered it up with a sigh, reluctant to delve into complicated memories again.  He began to refold the garment, grateful for the excuse to avoid eye contact as he, fumbled for an answer that would satisfy his father, struck with an annoying sense of déjà vu.

“I took care of it. Doesn’t exactly fix this, though.”

Vlad sighed; he knew that truth all too well.

They kneeled there awkwardly for a moment, neither entirely what to do, caught in that strange limbo that followed any major argument; that period where you tell yourself everything’s okay now, but you know deep down that it’s a lie.  Because the cycle of injury, apology, and forgiveness isn’t some magic fix, and no relationship pops back to how it was before even though the issue has been resolved.  Things weren’t really okay yet, and they probably wouldn’t be for a little while.

Honestly, the invasion of privacy didn’t sting nearly as much as his own insecurities; he’d move on. But would Vlad?

Daniel glanced surreptitiously his father.  Vlad was an expert at the practiced neutral face, but Daniel knew better; his poor father would be beating himself up about this for days.  

Sure, he was still a bit shaken, but nothing had happened.  Vlad was just too hard on himself.  He had been a mess for weeks that time he had broken Daniel’s nose after opening a door too quickly, despite the fact it had healed without a scare in a matter of days. He had hated the way his father had tiptoed around him, hated that tortured look in his eyes as the incident no doubt looped in his mind, on repeat; over and over again.

If only there was a way to reassure his dad that he still had Daniel’s trust, a way to break through his uncertainly.  He played with a loose hem pensively, cursing the circumstances that had led Vlad to rummage through his sweater box in the first place…

Sweaters.  It was so obvious.

He gathered up the unwearable sweaters into a neat pile again.  He was embarrassed by how reluctant he was to go through with this, but if he had to choose between his dad’s happiness and sweaters that didn’t even fit anymore, well…

There really wasn’t a choice at all.

He got to his feet, and hefted the pile (there really were a lot of them), depositing them in his father’s arms.  He smiled wryly as his dad looked down at the pile, bewildered, before raising his gaze and quirking an eyebrow inquisitively.

“Take them.”

Vlad blinked, lips parted slightly to respond, before they shut again.  He glanced to the side, brows furrowed in concentration as he tried to reconcile the large volume of mixed messages he had received that afternoon.

“What?” he asked, settling on the explanation that, somehow, he had simply misheard.

“Take them.” Daniel maintained firm eye contact, staring into blue pools identical to his own.  “You were right, they don’t even fit me anymore.”

“But, Daniel, those are yours,” Vlad sputtered, intelligently.

Daniel smiled softly.

“They were.  But now I want you to have them.”

Vlad looked helplessly at the pile, as if it held the answer to the puzzle that was currently throwing him for a loop.

“But why, Daniel?  You told me you love those sweaters.”

He left his father on the floor and walked to the door, grabbing his backpack on the way.  He’d do some homework at the kitchen table for a while, give his dad some time alone to process.  He paused in the doorway, a melancholy smile pulling at his lips as he gave his answer over his shoulder.

“I do.  But I love you more.”

                                                      ><><

This particular project normally would have taken months; Vlad had it done in one.  But not because he had rushed; no, he made absolutely certain it was perfect.  Nothing less for Daniel.  He didn’t sleep much anyways.

Daniel’s demonstration had the intended effect; knowing he still had his son’s trust even after his mistake meant the world to him.  

It had been a shock, at first.  He hadn’t known what to think when the boy handed his treasured pile of clothing over with barely an explanation.  It had been more difficult than he’d like to admit, allowing his son to walk away after sharing such a sentiment, leaving him on the floor to collect his thoughts. But after the shock (finally) wore off, the implications of the gesture warmed him to the core.  

(He also was trying his best not to dwell on the implication that someone attacked Daniel.  His son.  In human form, no less.  Because if he thought about that for too long, it took him to a dark place.  He trusted Daniel.  He did.  But surely it hadn’t been out of line to investigate the incident himself, not that he found anything, to his frustration.)

By the time training had begun that evening, Daniel appeared to have forgotten all about the incident. To the untrained eye, that is. Vlad had to give credit where credit was due; he had admirable focus during training and finished all his homework, but he’d caught a glimpse of him with the cedar chest out again later that evening on his way to bed; reorganizing.

Vlad truly had no idea the boy was so fond of the sweaters.  He could have kicked himself.  He thought he knew his son so well; how had he missed something so important to him?  Sure, he always beamed and hugged him whenever Vlad presented him with a new one (which may have contributed to the vast number now that he thinks about it, hmm…) but then again, Daniel always thanked him for gifts, equally delighted be it a motorbike or a new toothbrush.

In hindsight, though, the favoritism for knitwear was obvious, in the way his eyes would light up just that much brighter, how he’d wear it the very next day.  And his words…

They’re basically portable hugs.  You’re with me all day this way.

He had replayed this exchange countless times over the past month, the warmth in his chest just as strong as day one.  Never before had he known such happiness.  Such love.

His eyes prickled a bit. It was strange kind of responsibility, to have such a significant role in the happiness of someone else.  He both cherished and feared it in equal measure, terrified he would wake up one day, and he’d realize he’d imagined this whole thing. Or worse, that he would drive Daniel away himself one day, just like every other important person in his life. He’d be alone again.

For years, he chased a mirage of this feeling, feeding his obsession with a woman who would never return his affections, and later, her son.  At some point, he had given up, resigned himself to a lifetime of loneliness and swore revenge instead. He had cursed his failures, then.

Now, he thanked whatever power was responsible for those failures; any “victory” he may have achieved during that time, which now felt like lifetimes ago, would have been a mockery of the affection he craved, a mere taste that would have eventually driven him mad with longing.  Daniel had freely given him what he’d never dreamed could exist.  And it meant the world to him.

He didn’t deserve Daniel. But for some unknown reason, he had decided to stay.  He was the first person who had chosen Vlad above all others, and Vlad longed to show him how much he meant to him.  

He would continue to make the boy sweaters.  Socks. Hats.  Scarves.  Heck, he’d learn how to sew properly and make all his clothes, if it meant this much to him. But one step at a time.

On that note, Vlad put the finishing touches on the piece, feeling the strange mixture of melancholy and satisfaction he experienced whenever he completed a long-term project.  

And to his delight, it turned out much better than he had hoped.  He had conducted extensive research regarding design and technique; it was pretty far out of his comfort zone, and he only had one chance to get it right.  But it was worth it.  Anything for Daniel.

He took a moment to appreciate the fruits of his labor before packing it away with the utmost care.

Everything had to be perfect.

                                                     ><><

Something was up. Daniel’s eyes narrowed as he watched his dad make breakfast.  The change was subtle.  Only someone who saw the man on a daily basis would notice the difference; he was almost twitchy, movements sharp and almost harried as he fixed Daniel’s plate.  

His Dad placed the food in front of him with a quiet “good morning” and a tired smile.  Daniel noted the bruises under his eyes were darker than usual.  Daniel thanked him before focusing on his plate, inhaling sharply at its contents.

Pancakes.  In fun shapes.

Oh no.  It was worse than he thought.

He kept stealing glances at his dad as he ate, watched him worry at the handle of his coffee mug and pick at his own pancakes.  Daniel hated to leave him like this, but really, there wasn’t anything to be done when Vlad was in one of these moods.  And his dad wouldn’t want him to miss school.

If he lingered a bit during his goodbye hug, his dad didn’t comment.  Just bid him to have a good day, like usual.

Daniel tried to go about his day as he normally did, but was unable to shake the concern for his father. They texted as per their habit during his lunch break, in between laughing with his friends, but Vlad seemed a bit…distracted, he supposed.

(His friends could have told him that Vlad wasn’t the only one, but, like all good friends, they didn’t comment, opting instead to respect his privacy, confident that he would talk when and if he wanted to.)

Needless to say, Daniel wasn’t entirely sure what to expect when he crossed the Masters’ threshold that afternoon, hanging his jacket on the rack and shouldering his backpack, anxious to check on his father.

“Dad, I’m home!”

No answer.

He deposited his keys in the dish, and moved through the entryway, calling twice more, trying not to worry when he was met with silence.  

While uncommon, it wasn’t unheard of for Daniel to get home before Vlad.  But with the mood his dad was in that day, he was on edge.  Normally, he would text Daniel when he was working late.

Daniel sighed, running his fingers lightly along the wall of pictures as he made his way down the hall and up the staircase, deciding to distract himself with a bit of schoolwork while he waited for his dad to get back.  He hoped he was alright.

Daniel deposited his backpack beside his desk, taking a moment to kick off his shoes before pulling out his phone to text his dad, making his way over to sit on his bed, glancing up to check the height (his muscle memory wasn’t the most reliable these days; he was running into furniture and walls so often that his dad often joked about childproofing) only to stop short.  There was already something sitting there.

It was a box of medium size, just short of being too large to hold comfortably with two hands, wrapped simply but neatly in white paper.  Resting on top was a light green envelope, with his name inked in gold in a familiar hand.

He furrowed his brows, perplexed, and set aside his phone to pick up the envelope.  Unless he was very much mistaken, this was a present from his dad. Strange.

Not that surprise presents were an unusual occurrence; on the contrary, his dad loved giving him gifts, much more than Daniel enjoyed receiving them.  The quantity had been truly ridiculous at first.  It took a while for him to convince his father to relax, admitting that while he appreciated the thought and attention, he felt guilty that he was unable to reciprocate.  So they had compromised, agreeing to save gifting for special occasions.

Of course, Vlad pushed the boundaries of this rule, but it made him so happy to do nice things for Daniel that the teenager didn’t have the heart to call him out.  As long as he didn’t go overboard, Daniel had decided he could live with the occasional surprise.

He picked at the flap of the heavy paper envelope.  

But, unlike any other time his dad gave him a gift, he wasn’t here.  Daniel knew from experience that the real fun of gift-giving came from watching the recipient’s reaction.  

And his dad’s absence was clearly intentional.  Vlad was a master of presentation; the private location combined with the open and inviting position of the box and envelope was not coincidental.  Not to mention his unusual absence from the house at large.  And no audience meant no pressure, no need to control his reactions with the feelings of other in mind, free to be himself.

Which meant it was a gift intended for Daniel and Daniel alone.  He was touched.  And intrigued.

He finally managed to get a thumb under the tight seal, prying the glue apart slowly, careful to leave the envelope intact.  He pulled out a sheet of simple off-white stationary, revealing a message in his father’s distinctive hand.  

Daniel chuckled a bit; for someone so detail-oriented, his handwriting was atrocious.  He sat down, and began to read.

Dear Daniel,

I apologize for violating your privacy and your trust about a month ago.  I have no excuse.  I allowed my curiosity to overrule my common sense and overstepped your boundaries.  Worse, I used this knowledge to impose my will when it was neither wanted nor necessary, failing to respect your space, and by extension, you.  I am sorry, Daniel, for this, and any similar past missteps that I failed to recognize.

I cannot promise you that something similar will not happen again; I promise to try my best, but as much as I pretend otherwise, truly, I have no idea what I’m doing.  You are the first person I have shared a space with in over twenty years, and those past examples did not end well.  Despite my best efforts to the contrary, I successfully drove away everyone close to me.  I hurt people.  I’d like to think that I’m a bit wiser now, but I know that’s not entirely true.

To be completely honest, I’m terrified, Daniel.  You are my only son.  I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if I hurt you as well.  And I did hurt you, that day.  Others have left for far less.

Imagine my surprise when you forgave me so easily.  I simply couldn’t believe that it could be that easy.  You know that I trust you, Daniel, but you have to understand that years of evidence to the contrary are not so easily ignored.  

And then you decided to prove that there were no hard feelings; you gave the subject of my betrayal back to me, as a sign of good faith.  Your prized possessions.  Given freely.

I suspect you don’t have any idea clue how truly special you are.  So selfless, so kind.  If I hadn’t had such an involved role in your creation, I never would have believed that you were my child.

So thank you, Daniel.  Thank you for being you.

Daniel blinked back tears, taken aback by the forthright nature of the letter.  It was just so honest, so Vlad that he wasn’t sure if he should shake his head or cry.  Honestly, he was a bit disappointed; he had thought that his show of trust with the old sweaters had been enough to assure him of Daniel’s sincerity, and relieve him of guilt.

He loved the man, but it killed him how stubborn he could be.  He didn’t need to apologize again; Daniel had been tired that day, and overreacted, reading farther into the situation than he should have.  They were just a bunch of old sweaters.  This was his dad.  Why couldn’t his dad see that?

He decided to move on, rubbing at his eyes, unable to suppress a snort at the next line:

Now, because I know you, I’m certain that unlike every other teenager in existence, you read the card first. So do me a favor, please; open up the box before you read the rest.

He shook his head.  No one knew him like his dad.  He’d worry about the implications of his predictability later.

For now, he took the box into his lap; it had heft, but wasn’t heavy, per se.  He turned the package over, searching for the seams, and methodically pried tape away from the wrappings, careful not to tear the paper, savoring the anticipation.

He set the paper aside, and grasped the lid of the oversized white cardboard clothing box, prying it away from the bottom half, and brushed aside green and yellow tissue paper.  His hands began to shake.

He was greeted with something familiar, yet new.  He traced the old knit pattern, yarn soft from wear, but freshly laundered.  He tried a couple of times to lift the bulky block of fabric from the box, but it was packed tight, and he was unable to find purchase.  So he gave up and turned the box over onto the sheets instead, then unfolded its contents, eager to see the piece in its entirety.  He gaped.

They were all here. All of his old sweaters, the ones that he had given to Vlad that day.  The ones that he reluctantly put aside one by one when he could no longer slip into their warm embrace.  He had mourned the loss of the memories that went with each one, resigned to enjoy them as mere keepsakes.  

He didn’t regret giving them to his dad, but he had missed them.

Here they were, but not as they were; the torsos had been divested of the sleeves and divided in half down the sides, former front and back forming large patches that were sewn methodically onto an oversized sheet of ultra-soft fabric.  Parts of the sleeves had been repurposed into artful borders to separate individual sweaters.  The construction had been stuffed lightly, and formed a type of quilt.

Overall, the effect was stunning, striking a perfect balance between respect for the past and celebration of a new era.  

As far as he could tell, every salvageable part of his collection had a place.

In the middle, framed like a piece of art, was the front of his favorite sweater.  His first one, complete with mar and repair job.  He traced his friend’s handiwork reverently, taking a moment to reflect before taking action.

He arranged the quilt on top of his comforter, admiring the personal touch it brought to his space.  He itched to burrow under it immediately, but he knew better; there was no way he’d be able to avoid falling asleep right now if he was that warm.

It was, without question, the most thoughtful gift he had ever received.  So much time and care had been poured into this.  He had no idea how his dad had managed to organize the diverse collection into the aesthetically-pleasing and functional piece of art resting on his bed. He felt a rush of concern for his dad.  When had he found time to sleep this month?

With a jolt, Daniel remembered that he still had half a letter to read.  

He bit his bottom lip, conflicted, and decided to take a calculated risk; he burrowed socked feet under the quilt and shimmied down to his hips, sighing in delight.  The warm weight was unbelievably comfortable, and his feeling of nostalgia only intensified with contact. He had missed this.  His dad’s voice colored the rest of the text.

Life is full of change.  I often did my best to resist it, believing it could bring only pain.  You have taught me that this isn’t always the case.  Change can bring pain, but it often brings benefits as well.  Especially when it brings about growth.

Take your sweaters for example. You were, and still are, incredibly fond of them, despite the fit becoming uncomfortable as you outgrew them.  To continue to grow unhindered, you had to take the small sweaters off.

You’ll continue to grow in many different ways.  I look forward to seeing who you will become.  

But you will find that you will outgrow more than old sweaters in the course of your life.  Mindsets, routines, places.  At some point, you’ll realize that they’re no longer as comfortable as you remember, but moving on can be hard.  

When you reach the point of no return, Daniel, you must promise me you won’t linger.  Trying to fit into that “old sweater” again, as tempting as it is, will only bring you pain.

I regret to say I speak from experience.  I was stuck, for many years, trying to fit into my own “sweater,” denying the restriction because it was all I had.  I was stuck, longing to change my circumstances, but unwilling to release my hold on the “then” and embrace the “now.”  

It was painful, to say the least. I wallowed in anger for years, refusing to share blame, placing it fully on the shoulders of my friends, pushing them away.  Then I wondered why I was always unhappy and alone, with only my dark thoughts to keep me company.

I was still that person when you came along.  No hope, intent on using you as a tool for revenge and conquest.  But you were greater than I ever dreamed, far more than I could ever hope: A person.  My son.

It terrified me; you were too good for this world, too good for me.  And I was ashamed, thought myself unworthy to be your father, terrified I’d ruin you. That I’d fail you.

Please don’t make my mistakes.  Make your own.  Grow.  Live.  

Let this quilt remind you that it’s okay to remember the past, but not to dwell on it.  With some imagination, your memories can grow with you.   The past has its place, but life can only continue when you let go.

You taught me this, Daniel.  Let me return the favor.

And no matter what else in your life may change, you can rest easy with the knowledge that I will always be here for you, for as long as you’ll have me.

I am so proud of you, son.  I can’t wait to see what kind of man you’ll become.  

I love you.

-Vlad

An ugly mix of tears and snot streamed unchecked down Daniel’s face, dripping off his chin onto his shirt, arms carefully outstretched to preserve the letter.  

Sure, parts were a bit embarrassing. And sad.  But while his dad expressed his love often enough verbally, it was a different experience altogether see it in writing.  It felt more authentic, somehow.  Perhaps it was the deliberation that was required to record such a sentiment on paper; completely separate from the heat of the moment.  Sincere.

Today had been a roller coaster of emotion, from pancakes to quilts; he was exhausted.

When he first slid under the blanket, he had thought he’d never want to get up, reminded of his dad’s embrace.  But now, he found himself longing for nothing less than the real thing, confident he knew where his dad had been hiding under the circumstances.

In his haste, he elected to phase out from under the quilt, pausing only to set the letter carefully on his desk before phasing through several walls into Vlad’s private study.

Sure enough, there he was. Daniel barely registered that the man was staring blankly, hunched over an old photo album before it was lost from sight as he released the transformation and buried him in a hug from behind, over his shoulders and the desk chair.

Vlad tensed at first, so lost in thought that he hadn’t heard the boy come in.

“Thank you,” Daniel whispered.

Vlad relaxed, closing the book before turning around with a tentative smile.

Daniel let go, and Vlad stood so he could hug his son properly.

A/N: Thanks so much for reading!  I hope you had just as much fun as I did writing it!  I’m pretty new to writing fiction (I normally write research papers), so I’d appreciate any feedback you’d be willing to give me.  Feel free to point out any mistakes or oversights!  Overall, I’m really happy with how this turned out.  I guess fifth times’ the charm and all that.  I was concerned about the pacing being too slow, so I’m curious to see what you guys think.

I’m also open to requests!  Feel free to hit me up.  I have a few more shorts planned in this universe, namely, the story of how Daniel’s favorite sweater was damaged and an, admittedly, crack-ish short where Vlad and Daniel react to the sketch that started it all (Vlad commissions a family portrait, but has mixed feelings about the result); but after that, nothing’s planned, but I do have a couple of vague ideas.

Thanks for reading!

[livinginlandmarketing]

In late January, Mammoth Mountain was hit with more than 100 inches of snow just as Gov. Gavin Newsom lifted the latest stay-at-home order.

And, while the fresh powder beckoned cooped-up eager skiers and riders, it also was a pivotal lesson in how resort officials would navigate this year’s season amid tight COVID-19 restrictions while still providing a fun place to enjoy the outdoor winter wonderland in the High Sierra. The resort opened on Nov. 13, after the longest off-season in its history.

“It was quite a weekend,” said Stacey Cook, who heads up the mountain’s newly created COVID-19 Enforcement Team. “The storm kept building in the forecast and at the same time, we saw the stay-at-home order being lifted. It was the perfect storm.”

Crowds began forming at the few open lifts across the vast mountain and wait times stretched to as long as 55 minutes. Access to the mountain was limited to IKON pass holders and advance paid ticket sales. By that weekend, resort officials announced the mountain was “sold out.”

“Everyone showed up all at once,” Cook said. “We wanted to make sure we had safe operations and waited until ski patrol finished their avalanche blasts. I don’t know if any communication would have suppressed the guests’ stoke.”

Then, two weeks later, the mountain got some more fresh powder with about 18 more inches. Skiing conditions were much better and the mountain opened a lot sooner. The next fresh snowfall is expected Wednesday, March 10 and the mountain is expected to provide skiing and riding until at least Memorial Day. The summit now has 224 inches and Main Lodge has 184 inches.

To keep its guests safe, Mammoth Mountain has invested $1 million in COVID-19-related resort enhancements. This includes new technologies and sanitization procedures to help with physical distancing and public health and to reduce contact points throughout the resort.

Skiers and boarders wait in lift lines near Canyon Lodge, where COVID-19 restrictions are in place. (Photo by Erika Ritchie, Orange County Register/SCNG)

Skiing in the COVID era

That late January weekend was eye-opening as crowds began forming at the lift lines. Masks are required indoors, in lift lines and on lifts, in gondolas, shuttles, and when social distancing with others outside who are not part of your travel group.

Cook’s team members — dressed in orange vests — were on hand to make sure guests had their noses and mouths covered and that kept a 6-foot distance. Bandanas and gaiters are already part of many skiers or riders’ gear, so that part wasn’t that difficult, officials said.

But, some who tried to grab a sip of a beverage or maybe cool down after an exhilarating run and pulled down their face coverings were quickly and politely addressed.

“A lot of it is observation and talking to guests,” Cook said. “How do we make them believe what we’re doing is necessary? We’re constantly battling the misconception of being outside without a mask is OK.”

Chris Dahl, a lift operator who is on Cook’s team, brought an unusual amount of enthusiasm to the waiting lines at Chair 5. He’s found a way to make COVID-compliance fun by bringing a sort of entertainment to the crowd.

“It’s almost a whole year into the pandemic and I can see a lot of people are pretty tired of it,” said Dahl, of Fullerton, who is working his first season on the mountain. “I take that attitude because it helps make my experience more fun. I think people gravitate towards it because they’re also excited about being on the mountain and they want someone to share the energy with.”

Since the first storm, Dahl said he gets a good level of compliance but sees better cooperation from California residents than those who come to Mammoth from out-of-state.

The lift lines are distanced. For skiers, that isn’t too hard; it means lining up tail-to-tail and, for some, including just about one more foot of separation.

“We do get some people who squeeze up tight,” Cook said.

The late January storm showed Cook and her team how to get ahead of the game. In some cases, that meant opening lifts earlier and getting ahead of any crowds forming by the beginning of the day.

“That weekend, we were never able to get people spaced out.”

The COVID team works with mountain hosts — part-time workers and local volunteers dressed in yellow vests — to advise skiers and riders where to go on the mountain.

Three-step enforcement

While the majority of guests comply with the COVID protocols, Cook said some balk. But, the mountain has a three-step plan for non-compliance. Many times the mistakes are innocent and people have either forgotten or aren’t aware.

“We correct the mistake and we’re nice about it,” Cook said. The second time it happens, we educate them on why it’s important and how we’d like to keep the mountain open. The third time, corrective action is taken; it’s noted in their profile.”

Each guest has a profile whether they are an IKON Pass holder or not. A first warning is noted in the profile. The second time non-compliance happens, their ski pass is turned off for a week. If it happens a third time, the pass is revoked for the season.

Cook said a lot of notes have been made in profiles and more than a dozen passes have been revoked so far this season.

COVID protocols have also affected the Panorama gondola that travels to the summit. It no longer picks passengers up at McCoy Station at mid-mountain. Those who ride must board at Main Lodge where capacity is limited to single households. The Village Gondola — which runs from Canyon Lodge to the Village at Mammoth — limits capacity to 25% with open windows, even in inclement weather. Seating is arranged to ensure a six-foot distance between people from different households.

If you want to get more proficient at taking turns, ski and board lessons are private to ensure only people within a household are placed together.

Mammoth Mountain basking in sunlight after a recent storm. (Photo by Christian Pondella, Mammoth Mountain)

Lodges and après-ski

And, with the restrictions on the mountain, there are similar safety measures being taken at all of the resorts’ lodges.

Hand washing and sanitizing stations are placed throughout lodges at the resort. Places like railings, bathrooms, door handles, tables and chairs are being disinfected regularly.

Guests will miss some of the traditional ski getaway fun like eating hearty breakfasts and lunches inside lodges, having a place to warm up a shivering child with hot cocoa and the ever-popular and expected après-ski at some of the mountains’ bars and restaurants.

While the lodges aren’t open to gather, there is plenty of outdoor seating where visitors can enjoy takeout food and drinks. The mountain also has opportunities for advanced ordering and pickup options through the Mammoth Mobile App. There are also pop-ups on the mountain where guests can pick up drinks and snacks.

At Canyon Lodge, for example, the ever-popular Canyon Beach has been a place to hang out socially distanced while relishing the pure joy of a bluebird ski day. At Main Lodge, there’s plenty of space on the sun decks outside with views to the mountain’s famed Unbound Terrain Parks.

“It’s not the same experience, but it’s still a good experience,” Cook said. “Have a plan to grocery shop or eat lunch in your car. Call and ask questions, look on our website and don’t come unprepared. Our employees don’t want to be the police. This is a place to be kind and enjoy life. Show up with an attitude of fun and patience.”

In Mammoth Lakes, all restaurants are open for outdoor dining, takeout and delivery.

The best place for a fun après-ski is likely your lodging. If you need to stock up for groceries and want to avoid large groups and long lines, avoid times between 3 and 10 p.m., especially on Friday and Saturday.

While COVID may have changed some of the experience, Mammoth’s terrain remains amazing. The wide-open bowls, steep canyons and long groomers are there to welcome eager skiers and boarders back. Here are some of the best ski runs that just may make you feel “normal” again.

A skier is covered in powder on Mammoth Mountain. (Photo by Peter Morning, Mammoth Mountain Ski Area)

EXPERT

Hangman’s Hollow: Perched near the summit of Mammoth and accessed by the gondola, Hangman’s Hollow is an adrenaline junkie’s dream. Large rock faces and drops take you through the “hollow” and into a powdery landing. This run requires skill and bravery.

Climax: Towering just below the gondola, Climax is a steep, daunting run that provides some of the best turns on the mountain. Drop over the edge and get buttery turns. Funnel through a few chutes; then it’s back to wide, fun slashes to the bottom. Don’t fall because you’ll have an audience watching from the gondolas above.

Dropout Chutes: The Dropout Chutes, which take skiers right under Chair 23, are filled with some of the best snow on the mountain because they capture the Mammoth “wind buff.” Skiers and riders pass by large rock formations in a tight chute and then hit wide, long, grin-inducing turns that are hard to beat.

West Bowl: Some of the best “first tracks” on the mountain on a powder day. On an average day, it can be a technical mogul field. Accessed from Face Lift Express, West Bowl requires a slightly technical traverse to drop in; then it’s a wide-open bowl, usually all to yourself.

Paranoid Flats: The “Noids,” as locals call them, may not feature the rocky chutes of some other double black trails, but they are steep, fast and require a little finesse to access. Whether you choose 1, 2, 3 or 4, Paranoids give a run of a lifetime when they’re hit right.

Avalanche Chutes: Off Lincoln Mountain and Chair 22, the “Avy Chutes” are a ton of fun for advanced skiers or riders — especially after a storm. Chair 22 is an option when the top of the mountain is closed. You can get fresh, steep tracks while snow falls. The chutes collect a lot of snow, and a short hike takes you over to a choice of three.

Boarders cruise groomed runs above Canyon Lodge. (Photo by Erika Ritchie, Orange County Register/SCNG)

INTERMEDIATE

Road Runner: Road Runner takes skiers and riders on a scenic 3-mile tour of the backside, all the way back to Main Lodge. The views of the Minaret Range will take your breath away, but don’t get too distracted — there’s a steep dropoff on your side.

Stump Alley: It’s a misleading name. Stump Alley is actually a wide treeless run with tons of space to work on turns. With just enough pitch to pick up some acceleration, you can carve down at full speed and treat yourself to some pulled pork nachos at The Mill at the bottom. This tame blue run has varying conditions and can be confidence-inspiring.

Solitude: Taking you from the top to the bottom of High Five Express, Solitude is fun and wide. If you’re feeling adventurous, the left of the run is lined with trees you can cut between and find hidden pockets of powder. Just make sure you don’t cut through the trees completely, or you’ll find yourself going down the more advanced Face of Five trail. Solitude is the perfect practice for making turns down steeper terrain or to get comfortable picking up downhill speed.

Gold Hill: Starts off at the top of Cloud Nine Express, which is known for having some of the best snow after a storm. Gold Hill definitely provides that for the intermediate skier or rider. It’s a long run with tons of fun side hits, tree runs and powder stashes.

White Bark Ridge: If you’re looking for a relaxed run off the backside of Mammoth, head over to Chair 12 or 13 and take some laps on White Bark Ridge. Shorter than Road Runner, White Bark Ridge provides amazing views and is less of a thigh burner.

A view of The Minarets — a series of jagged peaks — visible from Chair 16 on Mammoth Mountain. (Photo by Erika Ritchie, Orange County Register/SCNG)

BEGINNER

Sesame Street: If you’re at Main Lodge, Sesame Street can be a good place to build confidence on the slopes. It’s an easy run with access to beginner freestyle terrain. Sesame Street has some of the best views of the top of the mountain to give you something to work toward.

School Yard: Out of Canyon Lodge, head to School Yard to learn your heel from your toe turns. School Yard is a long, easy beginner run that is a perfect place for all age levels.

Pumpkin: Out of Eagle Lodge, Pumpkin is a long, mellow run perfect for beginners to get comfortable on the snow. Often with fewer crowds than other beginner runs, Pumpkin has space to learn how to nail your turns.

Wonderland Playground: This is the perfect space to learn and get comfortable in the park, whether you’re new to freestyle terrain or just looking to have some fun. With small jumps, ride-on boxes and rails and an 11-foot halfpipe, this is the place to start your park progression to the big leagues.

St. Moritz: If you’re feeling comfortable on the beginner slopes but aren’t quite ready to make the jump to an intermediate run, check out St. Moritz. Take the Panorama Gondola to McCoy Station and make your way down the wide, mellow beginning of Stump Alley toward the top of Forest Trail. St. Moritz is an advanced beginner run that takes you back to Main Lodge and allows you to gain more confidence on the mountain before hitting intermediate runs.

  -on March 05, 2021 at 01:36AM by Erika I. Ritchie

[simul16]

Rime of the Frostmaiden Follow-Up

Something that annoys me about the adventure is how blase people are about the situation. "Just another gruesome day in Icewind Dale" says the opening "read this to the players". No it's not! "The tavern is abuzz with talk of"... How can the taverns be abuzz? And how can it be on any topic other than "How are we going to survive the next week". The rest of the adventure reads like this is just a normal, if severe, winter, rather than the apocalypse ( and it IS the apocalypse, albeit a very local one). The locals seem to have an attitude of "Oho! Cold enough for you? Ah you weak southerner". But buddy, you're not surviving this either. I can see how the villages with pop of 100-200 might survive by hunting or ice fishing, but even then: After a year of winter, there should be no more fish: Not because the humans have eaten them all, but because the fish themselves have no food. Hunting and ice fishing is how they weather a normal winter. I was listening to the Dragon Talk podcast and the question of how the bees of Goodmead have survived. This was answered by saying they live in the mead house which is kept heated. And I can see this is how the bees survive a normal winter, but what are they eating? There are no flowers and have not been for 2 years, and yet the bees are not only surviving, they are still producing enough honey to make enough mead to supply the entire region. Even assuming the people of 10 towns are getting food shipped in ( And they're not, more of that later ) or have magical means of food production ( cauldrons of plenty, create food and water, goodberry, which requires a level of casual magic 10 town's doesn't have and I'm not willing to give it ), we're looking at total ecological collapse last year. No more reindeer, fish, moose, crag cats, yetis, gnolls, etc etc. - tolcreator, post on ENWorld.org

My somewhat hasty and casual critique of Icewind Dale: Rime of the Frostmaiden was largely based on the issues I had with the structure of the adventure, with a few nods made toward odd choices in content. Then I read the post quoted above on ENWorld's message boards, and became even more regretful of my decision to purchase the adventure.

The criticisms in tolcreator's post are spot-on: the adventure explicitly states that "the average temperature in Icewind Dale is -49 degrees Fahrenheit (-45 degrees Celsius)" (p.11), and that Auril's ritual "prevents the next day's sun from rising above the horizon, turning midday into twilight and trapping Icewind Dale in winter's dark embrace, with no sunlight or warmth to melt the snow and ice." (p.5) Under these circumstances, no sunlight gets into the lakes to cause plants to grow to feed the fish that the residents of Ten Towns have, up til now, used as the primary staple of their diet. Flowers don't bloom, so the bees of the town of Goodmead, said in a podcast to be living in the meadhouse for warmth, have no place to gather pollen and nectar to feed themselves, much less to allow the residents to produce their normal quantity of fermented honey wine. If this had just recently started going on, it would be a catastrophe in the making, but as the adventure points out that this has been happening "for more than two years" (p.5); adventurers arriving in Ten Towns shouldn't discover adventure, but widespread death and ecological catastrophe.

However, some still try to defend the details of the adventure. A different poster, TheSword, summarizes all the individual responses to tolcreator's original argument:

It's a magical world with magical animals and plants.

While it is true that the Forgotten Realms has much more magic than our Earth, that magic is limited; not everything is magical, and for the most part, magic doesn't really impact peoples' daily lives. Much of the Realms is merely exotic, not outright magical. For example, instead of musk oxen, the people of Ten Towns domesticate axe-beaks, oversized birds like arctic ostriches, as pack animals. The bees of Goodmead aren't magical -- they're normal bees, and the 'knucklehead trout' which are one of the signature beasts of the region also aren't magical, just very large, strong fish.

Not to mention that if there was a magical grain that could grow in the near absence of sunlight and in devastatingly low temperatures, a great deal of what we'd think of as the horror of Icewind Dale's predicament disappears -- if the people have the means of surviving in this 'eternal winter', just as they did before, then there's not really much point in using the 'eternal winter' as a means of providing urgency to the PCs actions in the adventure. After all, the people are doing OK.

The ecology of a fantasy world can be better adapted to extremes.

This is true, but trivial. You can just as easily say that some human cultures on Earth have better adapted to extreme ecological conditions, but if you don't explain how this happens, and what impact it has on those cultures, then you're not really saying anything with any signficance. Being able to explain how a culture like the Inuit or the Yanomamo, who dwell in extreme ecological conditions on Earth, are able to survive and even thrive to some degree goes a long way toward explaining the human capacity for adaptation, and helps define the limits of what kinds of cultures humans are capable of creating. Just saying, 'eh, the Inuit survive in the northern climes of Canada, so our culture could do the same' is over-simplistic hand-waving and is arguably untrue -- modern technological culture would likely only survive in the state we know it in by making significant changes to the ecology of northern Canada; without the ability to make those changes, our culture would likely change to much more closely resemble that of the Inuit, simply because environment informs and can even dictate culture and modes of survival.

And again, if the residents of Ten Towns have actually adapted to the eternal winter, what's the rush to resolve the problem?

Druids can help keep ecology alive more than we could expect.

Druidic magic in D&D actually would have a profound impact on a culture's ability to adapt to changing ecological conditions, so bringing up this point is a good one. Unfortunately, the adventure itself presents good reason why this wouldn't be much benefit to Ten Towns. First, in the section on Magic in Ten Towns, the adventure points out that there are no high-level spell casters in Ten Towns, and that one person in a hundred dwelling in Ten Towns is a "friendly druid, priest, or mage". Here's the official census for each of the ten towns:

Bremen = 150

Bryn Shander = 1200

Caer-Dineval = 100

Caer-Konig = 150

Dougan's Hole = 50

Easthaven = 750

Good Mead = 100

Lonelywood = 100

Targos = 1000

Termalaine = 600

Fewer than half the locations in Ten Towns have a population large enough to possess more than one of these special individuals, and while I don't want to get hung up on the 'druid, priest, or mage' description to say that these professions are equally probable, it's pretty clear that some number of places in Ten Towns won't have a druid to assist them.

This is important due to the other factor noted by the adventure: Auril's ritual and its effects have also "heightened rivalries that have simmered for years, turning neighboring towns against one another as competition for resources becomes increasingly intense." (p.19) So even if there is a druid in Easthaven -- a decent bet given their population -- that druid is going to either be disinclined or be persuaded by the powers-that-be in their town to not provide assistance to their rivals, in this case Caer-Dineval and Caer-Konig, either of which is small enough that it might not have a druid of its own.

The biggest problem, though, is that some portion of these druids and priests are going to be servitors of Auril herself, and will not be providing assistance, but rather enforcing the sacrifices that Auril demands of each of the Ten Towns (Sacrifices to Auril, p.21)

Lastly, if there were one or more druids trying steadfastly to maintain the ecology of Icewind Dale in the face of Auril's ritual, you'd think that interacting with and assisting those druids would be part of the adventure, given how fitting such an interaction would be to the adventure's setting and themes. It isn't.

Priests would be expected to support their communities with magic where possible.

This is really just a subset of the previous point -- as noted, many communities won't be large enough to have a priest (though most should have either a priest or a druid), and even those that do likely have a priest or druid of Auril as their representative, which isn't actually going to help. And due to the increased competition for resources, communities without such assistance can't rely on getting it from communities that have it.

Winter stores would exist that would allow people and livestock to survive albeit weakened and in a depleted state.

This is superficially a good point -- after all, cultures have been laying in stores for the winter for generations, even centuries. There should be some reserve that the residents of Ten Towns are tapping to remain alive. And if the crisis had started just a few months before, that would be a reasonable argument to make. After all, when that first winter began, the residents would already have put aside enough supplies to get through the normal expected winter period, with maybe a bit extra just in case of a late thaw. If it was now supposed to be mid-summer after the first such winter, some folks might be out of supplies, while others are just getting down to the last meager scraps they hoarded the previous fall.

The problem is that this disaster has been going on, by word of law, for "over two years". Not only would no one have put aside that many supplies to survive two entire years of winter (it would be a waste of supplies, for one, since some portion of those supplies wouldn't keep and would need to be discarded anyway, plus nobody expected the winter to go on as long as it has, so would not have seen the need), but the first year of perpetual winter would have hurt the production of new supplies to the point where there would be far less to stash to survive the now harsher second winter.

In fact, given this point, it's really hard to justify that some towns, rather than holding a lottery to determine which of their residents they're going to sacrifice to Auril's demands, simply give up a day's worth of food instead -- in a community where food has been at a premium for a couple of years now, surrendering food is not really much different than consigning the most vulnerable in that community to death, not that the adventure spends any time really pondering that justifiably horrifying conclusion.

Icy temperatures would allow food to be preserved far longer than would be expected normally.

This, again, seems like a reasonable argument -- after all, we have refrigeration and the ability to freeze food to preserve it, and the folks in Icewind Dale can take advantage of the climate to freeze food for no additional cost.

The problem here is two-fold: not every food can be effectively preserved by freezing, and once frozen, the food becomes inedible until thawed and/or cooked, which requires more resources than Ten Towns really have.

Many of the Ten Towns rely on fishing as their main source of protein, and fish can be fairly easily prepared and frozen. Root vegetables like carrots or onions also freeze pretty well. But leafy vegetables like lettuce, celery, and even some root vegetables like radishes don't freeze well. Likewise eggs, which separate and can lose nutritional value as their proteins are broken up by ice crystals. Milk and other dairy products also don't keep well frozen, with most sources saying that, if you do plan to freeze dairy, you should use it within a month or discard it. Starches made from grain also don't keep well when frozen, with rice and pasta being prime examples of foods that don't need to be frozen before cooking, and shouldn't be frozen after cooking.

More importantly, frozen foods can't be eaten while frozen; they need to be reheated before being consumed. Otherwise, the body spends significant energy simply heating the frozen food in your stomach to the point where nutrients can be extracted from it, resulting in fewer calories that can be spent on normal activity. (The frozen food also lowers your internal body temperature, increasing your risk of hypothermia.) And, as noted in the adventure itself ("Fuel Sources", p.19), Ten Towns residents have a relative lack of fuel to use to heat themselves and their food, with wood actually being at a premium and most residents of larger towns relying on whale oil purchased from whalers who work the Sea of Moving Ice. Whale oil stoves do exist, but they are roughly the size of camp stoves we see today that use kerosene or other fuel sources; there's really no such thing as a stove like the ones we see in our kitchens that run on whale oil.

Hunting and fishing still exist.

Yes, but the original poster's point is that they probably shouldn't.

Lake ecology is fairly straightforward: Light is absorbed by plants and bacteria which produces both oxygen for breathing creatures like fish as well as food for those creatures to eat. Temperature is also an important factor because most species of lake creature don't have internal temperature regulation systems and live at whatever temperature the water they dwell in happens to be. As noted by the original poster, Auril's ritual both reduces sunlight and lowers temperature, so not only should the fish be driven into deeper water where the temperature stays close to what they need to remain alive (and thus become harder to catch), but the lack of light reduces plant life, which lowers both the amount of food the fish have to eat as well as the amount of oxygen they have to breathe, noting as well that, the deeper you go in a lake, the amount of oxygen dissolved in the water naturally decreases, as light can't penetrate beyond a certain depth of water and thus photosynthesis to create oxygen is impossible.

A few months into the first unnatural winter, and the fisherman would be complaining about smaller catches and having to work harder to get them. Two years into the crisis, and it would be a small miracle when any fish is pulled from even the largest unfrozen lake.

(And don't think that since fish can normally survive a winter beneath the surface of a frozen lake means that the fish in Icewind Dale would get off scot-free; again, fish survive a winter of the surface of a lake being frozen by going into a torpor, using less oxygen, and feeding on the plant life that remains uneaten in the unfrozen portions of the lake. If the winter goes on too long, the plants that are eaten don't grow back and the oxygen vanishes, and all the fish die. This is why even if you solve the temperature issue by, say, presuming that some of the lakes are fed by geothermally heated streams of underground water, the lack of sunlight still dooms the fish to annihilation.)

The winter has not necessarily always been this bad, it could easily have progressed over time.

This argument is mere wishful thinking -- it is directly contradicted by the adventure's text: "This powerful magic prevents the next day's sun from rising above the horizon, turning midday into twilight...with no sun or warmth to melt the snow and ice." (p.5)

I could see where someone might argue that the effects of the sun being so restricted might have progressed since the first time Auril cast the spell, but all indications are that Auril began casting this ritual during Icewind Dale's winter, so while the effect may certainly have gotten worse, it's not as though the region went from spring or mid-summer and slid back into winter slowly -- it simply never emerged from the winter that started "over two years ago". It also belies that simply ending Auril's casting of the ritual will fix everything overnight -- if it took two years for things to get this bad, then it's going to take some significant amount of time even after things return to 'normal' for the ecology of the area to recover, which again isn't covered in the adventure.

It isn't pitch black (the sun just hasn't risen over the horizon so there absolutely is daylight every day, must not very much and not for long).

In a world where daylight is magical, maybe the difference between actually seeing the sun and getting its light filtered though the atmosphere would be a distinction that made no difference (though I suspect such a world would still have some effect from actually having the sun in the sky, particularly if the sun is itself divine). There are two factors that make this unlikely in the Realms, though.

First off, most plant that we consider crops require direct sunlight and cannot thrive without it. Fruiting vegetables (like tomatoes, which already don't grow in Icewind Dale), most varieties of grain, and even rice need large amounts of direct sunlight to thrive. Some root vegetables can grow with lesser amounts of light (and interestingly, those vegetables also tend to be the ones that are most frost-tolerant), so carrots and the like could likely still be cultivated, but they'd be rather sickly and nutrient-poor compared to their counterparts in warmer, sunnier climes. Similarly, lake plants that feed fish also tend to prefer direct sunlight, and grow poorly in indirect light, which again speaks to the point about fishing above.

Second, that Icewind Dale has this sort of behavior during its winter normally (nobody seems to think that having only four hours of light a day is unnatural, just unnatural for how long it's been going on) suggests that Icewind Dale is close enough to the equivalent of the Arctic Circle on Earth that its summers should feature very long days with 20 or so hours of sun, and its plants would have adapted to that kind of environment much more than to the relative lack of sun in the winter (since the plants do much of their growing and reproducing in the summer and thus would adapt to that environment more than to the winter period when they tend to be in torpor).

Temperatures are average in the wilderness not in protected buildings, carefully designed settlements, crags, ravines, pine forests, glacier lees.

I'm not really sure what the point of this comment is supposed to be.

For starters, the adventure already knows the above, and incorporates it into its text, specifically in the 'snowflake rating' of each community's Comfort. A community with three snowflakes in Comfort (like Bryn Shander) can find decent food and drink and warm beds, but "a one snowflake town might have a cold shed or attic where characters can crash for the night, and that's about it." (p.21) The smaller the community, the more likely it is to be a one-snowflake town, despite the 'carefully designed settlements' noted in the comment above.

More to the point, some communities, unwilling to either sacrifice their citizens or their food to Auril's demands, appease her by forbidding the lighting of fires between dusk and dawn (which, remember, is nearly the entire day), and "[a]nyone who dares to light a fire is savagely beaten." (p.21)

Out in the wilderness, though, a crag, ravine, or 'glacier lee' (whatever that is; my Google search returns Lee Glacier in Antarctica, and the images returned for that search are not glaciers, but scree and other geologic formations formed from retreating glaciers) may protect you from the wind, which might help with the "as much as 80 degrees" colder that the temperature can feel due to wind chill, but doesn't do anything to make that location any warmer in an absolute sense. Caves can be warmer than ambient temperature if there's a heat source, such as a geothermal fissure or nest of creatures, but even there the best you're normally going to get is respite from the wind, not from the cold.

Finally the most important argument to my mind. Things are really really bad here, sacrifice to evil gods, cannibalism, mass starvation and horror are not measures of a society thriving. People are suffering from the issues and are on their last legs. They are doomed if the heroes don't act. Don't worry about calculating precisely when this should have happened. It happens when the PCs arrive.

This is simply the most cynical and dismissive explanation of all, not least of which because of an odd wrinkle when comparing this adventure to another published hardcover adventure.

The idea that sure, there's a lot of bad stuff that's presumed to have been happening here, but none of it has any real impact on anything until the PCs arrive to do something about it is, at its heart, the most horrifying thing about the adventure. It suggests that having communities form a lottery to determine which of them will be exiled into the wilderness to satisfy a deranged goddess, or savagely beating anyone who dares seek respite from the cold, or any of the other ways in which this society has been warped by the events of Auril's ritual are ultimately meaningless unless a 'hero' is there to note it, give their disapproval, and do something to fix it (specifically, go out and beat up the aforementioned deranged goddess). It posits that the people of Ten Towns are basically powerless to deal with the problem themselves, and in the absence of a 'hero' to deal with it for them, have descended into depravity, madness, and horror, on the verge of no longer being a viable civilization.

It's curious that the adventure should go here, especially given WotC's recent statement affirming that they're trying to achieve greater diversity in D&D. After all, an adventure where a party of adventurers arrive on the scene and violently set things back to 'right' has a not insignificant similarity to a story where a 17-year old takes up weapons, travels to a small Wisconsin town, and shoots people he sees as contributing to unrest there. It's one thing to say that these two things aren't equivalent because the adventure is about heroes and the news event clearly doesn't feature heroism, but that depends on who you ask. If Wizards of the Coast really wants to deal with issues of diversity and human dignity in their role-playing game, they need to do a much better job of not supporting these kinds of narratives in their adventures, rather than just eliminating ability penalties for non-human PC races. (In all honesty, this paragraph probably could and should have been the extent of this article, as it's a very topical issue that highlights deep issues with the very idea of 'heroic narratives', especially in the context of those 'heroes' beating down the 'bad people' and taking their stuff. I honestly couldn't blame someone who found the implications of these narratives disturbing and offensive.)

However, there's also another issue, not as culturally important but arguably more significant to some players' likely experience of the adventure, related to the time in which the adventure takes place. As noted in an early sidebar on "Tendays and Dalereckoning" (p.5), "This adventure is assumed to take place in the winter of 1489 DR or later. The exact date is not important." The problem is that an earlier adventure, Storm King's Thunder, also takes a party of adventurers to Bryn Shander, and that adventure "isn't set at a specific time but is assumed to take place sometime after 1485 DR" (Storm King's Thunder, p.13). On the surface, this wouldn't seem to be a problem, as Storm King's Thunder is assumed to occur 'after 1485', while Auril's ritual would have first been cast sometime during the winter of 1487, giving two years before the actual assumed earliest start of Rime of the Frostmaiden in 1489. However, the tiny section of Rime of the Frostmaiden that deals with Bryn Shander (just five pages) doesn't reference anything about the attack just a few years earlier by frost giants (and nothing in Storm King's Thunder foreshadows Auril's plot save a dim possible connection between Auril and the Ring of Winter, ostensibly why the frost giants are attacking Bryn Shander), and if a DM finishes running his PCs through Storm King's Thunder (as a DM I play with just did) and decides to follow up with Rime, the subtle but significant differences between Storm King's Bryn Shander and Rime's Bryn Shander will be jarring to the players, likely salvageable only through the fact that the PCs those players are running will be different, thus amenable to the idea that the adventure they're now playing takes place significantly after the adventure they just finished, explaining why their previous PCs didn't notice anything amiss about the weather or the behavior of the townsfolk.

Most of these issues aren't insurmountable -- a savvy DM can provide foreshadowing of the events of Rime of the Frostmaiden while running a party through Storm King's Thunder, and one who prefers a more realistic depiction of the climate catastrophe represented by Auril's ritual can shift the time between the first casting of that spell from 'over two years' to just a few months without significant harm. The structure of the adventure itself, though, as with Storm King's Thunder and frankly all the WotC hardcovers, where normal people can't solve problems themselves and must rely on the intervention of self-proclaimed 'heroes' whose activities largely boil down to murdering undesirables and taking their stuff is a harder problem to resolve within the context of what's actually written in the adventures, and arguably makes them problematic on a level that can't really be adapted by any but the most astute and sensitive DM. And if you are that kind of DM, for the money you'd be spending on these adventures, you'll probably be far better off writing your own adventures free of these problematic tropes from the outset rather than having to spend at least as much time and effort untangling them from the so-called 'experts' of D&D adventure and campaign design.

tolcreator's post provides me with yet more reason to regret my purchase of Rime of the Frostmaiden, as well as to discount the well-meaning but ultimately toothless claims by Wizards that they are planning to effectively address issues of diversity and equality within their flagship role-playing game.