#i already pre ordered the new hunger games

[lesfir]

Astarion past of corrupt Magistrate

A bud that didn't bear fruit, not one that was cut off.

There was no time to realised in the game that Astarion was a very, very bad, corrupt elf in power. The beginning of the story hasn't been rewritten, the key idea remains - for April 2024.

I have a couple words and sources for it. The latter I found recently, and it has a story of its own. Sources from Larian's internal kitchen is extracted by hacker methods.

Let's start with just that In the fall of 2023, the Larian Discord leaks happened. Leaks of Welch chat, Larian's narrative designer (in the past), and co-writer of some scenes with Astarion. As of April 2024, the narrative designer of the romances. You can read about their unprofessional acts here. For me, it also plays a role that it's not even their character, it was worked on long before them, another author and creator. So that kind of statement who understood what about the character is so... ridiculous.

And the question arises why we should trust the word of a very unprofessional person? That's right. Because: 1. These are not their personal words, interpretations and "I feel like". It says what Larian was planned for Astarion's story, but didn't have time to show. 2. Welch came to work at Larian well after Early Access. This backstory of Astarion was already told before Larian hired Welch.

The other few sources that tell of Astarion's backstory. Their sequence and nuances are also important.

1 - Info from the publication VICE The year is 2020, February 28. First presentation of the Baldur's Gate game by the hands of Swen Vincke. Astarion already Astarion as he is, white hair, fangs, a vampire spawn. (no horns and no tail) I watched it all and dont find that Swen is no information about Astarion's past. I don't think the publication is running a fake. So I'm assuming this is a site exclusive-lure about the key points plot of the game.

„A disgraced nobleman who used his position as a local magistrate to serve a vampire clan by feeding them prisoners, he was eventually too corrupt even for them and was effectively sent to serve as the personal slave of a powerful vampire”

I haven't seen it abandoned. After a while, the artbook confirms corrupt-taste for power-past.

So, a person who has been following the story closely notices that some of the information is incomplete. However, " feeding them prisoners" could very well be a plot twist for new playrs, and it should be left out in the exclusive. All the more reason: • Corrupted elite - used his position of magistrate • Taste for power. Desires, eternal life - for luxury, influence, eternal beauty, more power, vampires. • How vampires came to be? Why do vampires need a magistrate? - prisoners, it's easy to take outcasts for food. They also didn't forget to mention decadence. There is no reason for a person to think that a key moment in history has gone away.

2 - Artbook I found the first mention in winter 2022 (edit if I find it earlier) Baldurs Gate 3 Collectors Edition Pre-order for the physical collection, including artbook $269.99 Next February 2023. It mentioned that BG3 Digital Deluxe Edition will be available to Early Access buyers. With this artbook. That is, the information passed from edition to edition. Weird, giving irrelevant information that will confuse you for free! Yet you have to pay for the physical irrelevant information, 270 bucks. Did Larian give any warning about this? 270 for non-canon. Enjoy the game.

Astarion. Decadent and Dangerous Two hundred years ago, Astarion was a corrupt elite of Baldur’s Gate with a taste for power and a hunger for eternal life.

3 - unprofessional employee revealed the internal workings of the kitchen and what Larian, as an entire company - that's Astarion's author, Stephen Rooney, actors, animators - didn't have time for previously mentioned Astarion backstory. Confirmation of what was already known.

escuisi: I've been thinking about how in act 1 there seems to be a setup for more info on the gur incident/cazador conveniently being there to turn him but then theres no reference to it later on? Like, Astarion's all mysterious about it in a way that clearly implies he did something shitty we would find out later ("they had taken issue with a ruling i had made") but its never expanded.

Baudelaire Welch (larian): lol I did want to more fully explore the 'ACAB * definitely * applies to Astarion' angle but there wasn't really time for it.

The concept of "learning not to be racist" I am a building is shot down, probably by other writers. Not copstarion, that predates Welch. Of course. It would have taken two more acts - just an understanding. Overall it would still look... cheap and strained. The only evil male companion in this game. Astarion is about the darker sides of humanity, balance of fun and darkness. He must be asshole about something. The recent "I'm sure" posts are already more of a personal piece. Doesn't invalidate the information gained, which is verified by past sources.

Headcanon is a fan fiction that never hasn't been mentioned in any way in the media. Which there is no basis for, fiction. Like the dark-haired Astarion, mortal eye colour, for example.

The entire 1st act is precisely done and presented in 2020 with Astarion's backstory - all his approvals, reactions, all the lines. 2022 winter - pre-order of the physical edition with this artbook is open. The artbook that is promised as a gift to players by EA in February 2023 half-year before the release in August 2023 also confirms and includes information about the corrupt past. Approvals, most reactions, some of which are remade in PAD format, but not cut remain in the August 2023 release. The game gives hints and later coquettishly silent. Nothing logically erases this backstory of Astarion in the game And then in autumn 2023 there is a leak where it turns out that there was not enough time for Astarion's backstory.

The artbook is the grail. It always has been in my case in any fandom. In an artbook, every word is very precious. These are the key ideas author for the reasoning of the story. Maybe it's not the fans, but the way Larian treats the information he's given for thought. I find their pitching a clumsy. -- wasn't enough time to do -- abandoned the idea and cut it out are different things. If the wording was: we didn't have time, so we cut off, so this story is no longer relevant - then yes. Now it's: we didn't have really time to fully explore (emphasized the other part, this part was left unrevealed). For me, this story of Astarion levitates in the air, not gone, but not realized either.

There's nothing in the game plot that contradicts that Astarion's past was exactly that. Astarion would never say he was a corrupt arsehole when he wants Tav to help him, though with his barbarians, "raising the dead is easier than catching slaves, don't care slaves or building material", luxury, wealth and power that Astarion remembers in the his original, "mercy, please", vagabonds... Vice versa. It's all coming together.

That's the puzzle. Judge for yourself. Because the main thing that's missing: definiteness. For me, zero reasons to rate that this backstory is burned at the time of the release of the Bladur's Gate 3 game and for April 2024. It's would be hidden as a secret inside the story. A bud that didn't bear fruit, not one that was cut off.

Now Larian is doing a new artbook I really hope the situation is at least clarified. Stephen Rooney has left Larian, he said that in the spring of 2024, so it was always going to be an issue now. Unless of course they do CTRL+C CTRL+V.

Here.

#astarion #bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #astarion ancunin #bg3 astarion #baldurs gate 3 #Magistrate Astarion #larian critical #bg3 critical #BG3 Early Access

[olderthannetfic]

Anon from 722398181104795649 again about YA as a G-D and it's failure(s). Your response is really interesting because it definitely aligns with the market research I've had to do over the last 3-ish months for work. Adult YA readers want YA to skew older superficially as escapism from the woes of adulthood (It's like someone who orders a pasta with broccoli in it because they appreciate the flavor it brings, but they have no interest in actually eating their vegetables). Teenagers feel alienated by the G-D that is meant for them no longer allows them to confront said woes with honesty or maturity for their age to prepare them for adulthood or discussing broader ideas. More teenagers skip over YA altogether or just reader adult genre fiction with some Middle Grade fiction mixed in because the teenagers feel in MG, there's still an honesty to the stories that they can understand, having once been young children. In short: teenagers think YA books are talking down to or patronizing them.

The result is YA authors pushing for NA, New Adult, as a G-D, which hasn't taken off within tradpub outside of romance circles. Mostly, because what they're pushing for is already an established genre for around a century: campus novels--books about characters 18+ who are entering college, establishing independence, beginning to explore sexuality and enter the workforce, etc. But, again, YA adult readers refuse to engage with adult genre fiction because there isn't the facade of protection from adult themes or topics, and there's an aggressive refusal among many agents in literary fiction (and some adult genre fiction) to encourage authors to sanitize their stories. YA authors began attempting to cross over into adult genre fiction with mixed, but overwhelmingly negative, results, as they cannot shake the stigma of writing YA. And the genre fiction crowds they want to appeal to have higher standards, typically, than the average YA writer is able to meet. YA authors then complain about the differences in publishing YA and genre adult fiction. It's like when MCU actors and directors get upset when prestige film directors don't consider MCU movies to be "cinema."

--

This is fascinating.

I pretty much missed the YA boom (slightly too old, not paying attention, etc.), so I've mostly encountered YA through its worst evangelists of the Hunger Games knockoff era, and often a good bit after their favorite books were at their height.

As I've said before, this really strikes me as that pattern where something is big when you're at a formative age, and it becomes the Normal Default to you.

I'm sure some of it is refusal to engage with adult nuance, but I'll bet a lot of it is resistance to leaving the name of YA behind. People spent so much time defending this niche that they started believing their own rhetoric about it being the only place the good queer stuff was or the feminist stuff was or whatever. They identified really strongly as A YA Fan. It's hard to let that go.

And if you don't remember much about pre-YA boom publishing, the fact that all that YA-tastic Mercedes Lackey stuff was filed under fantasy, not YA is completely obscure. The places you find stuff you'd like that aren't called "YA" are not obvious. The fact that YA in its boom era form isn't universal and eternal is not obvious.

I think people are waiting for their Cool Era of their early 20s to return and for the things they think should always be in fashion to come back... Like everyone else aging ungracefully, they may be waiting a while.

Gotta say, every New Adult book I've been shown sounds like a hideously boring contemporary romance that would probably make a good coffee shop AU against a backdrop of a canon that's dark or magical but that isn't really pulling its weight even if you like contemporaries.

[burningartwork]

P5 MINOR ARCANA Project CONTEXT POST

⚠️SPOILERS for P5/P5R ⬇️⚠️

Sorry for the delay but now I can give you all a breakdown of the P5 Minor Arcana project & time frame.

So, the Minor Arcana has 16 face cards 4 Aces & 36 pip(numbered) cards in 4 suits like playing cards. P5 bases its deck on the Tarot de Marseilles deck.

Left: P5 In-game Fool card - Right: Tarot de Marseilles

(Cards in the photo above next to the Marseilles cards are my "Wings of Rebellion" Major Arcana)

⚠️ The suits will be assigned a Palace that matches closely with their theme:

🍷= emotion

🪙= money/work

🪄= creativity/passion

🗡= intellect/strength

I think the first 3 & Okumura's Palace match well. Assigned characters are not 💯% confirmed yet but I am working on that. Sae & Futaba are in the Major deck already so I omitted them as options for the suits but no worries, you'll still see their shadows in this deck later.

✅️ I have already made the Aces. I was having a bit of a headache trying to decide if I should colorize the suits like P2 & P3/4. Finally, I have decided to keep them red. The fact that they have so much more yellow should distinguish them enough from the Major Arcana at a glance.

⚠️ Arguably, the hardest cards to make will be the Pip cards. Unlike lots of modern decks, they're simply composed of different numbers within the suit. (🍷🪄🪙🗡) These cards have meanings so I'll have to figure those out, match the Palace but reflect the Marseilles deck as well.

✅️ My Reverse/Broken cards are entirely bonus cards. They can replace the existing cards by reading them in their reverse meaning.

These are basically done & Akechi is already found in the Major Arcana deck. This also lets me add the missing Palace rulers not found in the Minor Deck.

⚠️✅️Finally, Shido & José will be entirely unique cards like the P5R & P5S cards.

José will have my 💯% made-up "Constellation" card (still debating its place in the deck). & Shido will either use Hunger or another made-up card. I'll be researching other decks for this.

☑️ TIMELINE:

I will try to post a new Face Card every

✨️THURSDAY (EST).✨️

With 16 face cards + Shido, this will mean 17 weeks & should be done around June.

The Pip cards will have no time frame but I'm hoping once I get the ball rolling, I'll be able to push them out quickly & they might come out in between or after the Face cards.

I am planning a vacation in July to see my mom so hopefully, the face cards will be complete at least. I'll come back after & finish up what's left & the new box(es).

Once it's all over (I'm projecting April of 2024) we'll start the pre-order campaign again. I have some fun ideas planned for the pre-order bonuses this time. And that's it! Thanks for reading.

#long post #persona 5 #fan art #p5 #p5 royal #p5 strikers #tarot #tarot deck #merch #atlus persona #tarot card #creative project #tarot de marseille #tarot design #project planning #planning #p5 joker

[creativefiend19]

A Pynch ‘first time’ fic list

For the Anon who asked for it * clears throat * a whole year ago on Valentine’s Day. 

First times - of various sorts - necessarily mean M or E rated fics, so I’m not specifying for each.

Everything’s 2020 or earlier, and mostly one (or sometimes two) shots, in no particular order after the cut (as always feel free to add your recs).

*

sun came out of nowhere like a bar fight by liquidsky

“Christ, Adam, fucking do something already,” Ronan says, a clear attempt at getting rid of any discomfort.

Adam grins, “Eager, are we?”

*

Feels Like the First Time by FalseCamaro (Gandalfgirl579)

"Never done this before." Ronan glances up, catching Adam's eyes when he asks, "You?"

"Only with girls." When Ronan makes a particularly unflattering gagging noise, Adam rolls his eyes, though he can do nothing to fight back his smile.

*

the place to lose your fears by gaewaren (shadowhunterxhunter)

Gansey's voice was low and soothing. "Is he pressuring you?"

"Holy shit, Gansey." Ronan's face was in his hands and he was seconds away from punching the two-hundred dollar custom made coffee table.

"I'm being serious!"

"And I'm going to dropkick you!"

*

caught up in your heartstrings by softambrollins

In which Ronan is very distracting, Gansey is an oblivious idiot, and Adam is not freaking out at all. (Bonus: Blue abiding no bullshit and Noah being all-knowing.)

*

Expansion by gonergone

The thing was, Ronan had never actually thought that the thing with Adam was an actual thing. Missing scenes around the events of the third book.

*

You Will Always Be Enough by Becky_J_1022

Ronan can't dream and can't stay in the apartment, and Gansey sends Adam along with him to keep him out of trouble. Adam does not do a very good job.

Alternate summary: Ronan yells at Adam, Adam yells at Ronan, and Adam decides the best way to resolve this is to kiss Ronan. There are feelings and they spill everywhere. The Barns is involved.

*

from when I wake the want is by solitarydreaming

Adam doesn't want to talk about sex, so it looks like they'll never be having any.

*

Declarations by Again_n_Again

Adam and Ronan have just started "dating" ...is that what they're doing? They kiss a lot, but that's all. Ronan makes a declaration, and Adam does't know how to respond right away. He knows he doesn't want to ruin this new and fragile thing between them, but is he ready to jump in fully?

*

a little more touch my body by softambrollins

The room feels too small, almost claustrophobic, but Ronan makes every room feel like that. He's always painfully, viscerally aware of him, his body, every single movement and gesture and subtle shift in expression, even when he's not touching him or looking at him like that or about to take all his clothes off.

*

and baby when you kiss me there's nothing else by fanscribbles

Honestly, they don't mean to get off in Gansey's car. Alas, that is what happens.

*

Hold On to Me as We Go by basicallymonsters

It’s like they’re enjoying some fantastic beginners luck, but they don’t actually know how the game is played...

Revised relationships come from the settling dust of unmaking, and Ronan and Adam try to find a balance between grief and joy, love and sex, friendship and occasional hand kissing. They navigate first times and promises and a feeling like magic - even when they're forest-less and wide awake.

(Pre-epilogue)

*

as we fall we sing by asael

Adam wants more, he’s only beginning to understand this aching hunger inside him for someone who will be willing to touch him, will want to touch him, will reach out when he doesn’t quite know what to do.

*

Honey & Caramel by Pigzxo

Adam & Ronan's first time.

*

say my name and i'll lie in the sound by oftirnanog

It’s almost too much, Ronan splayed out in front of him, all hard lines and sharp angles, his fingers trailing up and down Adam’s ribs like he’s something to be treated with care, not fragile, but deserving of softness.

Or the first time Ronan and Adam have anal sex. That's it. It's just smut. Fluff and smut and awkward boys with awkward feelings. Adam POV.

*

#pynch #the raven cycle #trc #adam parrish #ronan lynch #fic recs #my stuff #Q

[sailorgundam308]

This up there is Alexena, my first/original Tav in BG3. She is a strong barbarian skull-bashing human lady with a breezy haircut.

When I started playing BG3 I knew NOTHING of the story or Early Access. What I knew was that I had played BG1 and 2 decades ago (or watched my older brother play, in case of BG1), and was beside myself to learn Baldur's Gate was getting a third game. I'm not a gamer, I only play few titles that appeal to me, but I watched the Panel from Hell live and saw the bear scene… and I pre-ordered the game immediately. :V

Anyways, back to Alexena. She is not a "new" character. I play as Alexena in any medieval-ish fantasy game I get my hands into that allows me to make either a barbarian woman or a paladin. I also played her for years in D&D. I always name them Alexena because, well, my name is Alexandra, and motherfucking XENA. THE Xena. Sounds funny and I've been doing it for decades. So I repeated it in BG3.

I didn't know about the characters, about Astarion or Karlach (besides just laughing at the bear sex), or the premise of the story. So I went in blind, and BOY HOWDEE it was a wild ride. I left Gale stuck in the stone, so he didn't exist in my play (oops - but to my defense, the narrator said it looked dangerous…). I made decisions as I would if I could freely do so irl - meaning I was alternating between nice and absolute douchebagery, depending on my mood and how the characters came across to me at the time. I killed what annoyed me, and defended those I liked. As a barbarian, I was having A BLAST. I'm not an experienced or technical player, I just wanna bonk shit to death and growl epically while doing it. It's my happy place.

I ended up meeting Karlach only after I did the entire goblin camp, south map and underdark. I genuinely opened the HUGEST GRIN when I talked to her. She was brash, foul-mouthed, muscular, flirty and an all-around BADASS. She was what Alexena wanted to be when she grew up. I'm not crazy about tieflings design-wise, but Karlach was KARLACH. I didn't bring her with me all the time, then, but everytime I did I was laughing from any and everything she said or did. She is THAT charismatic.

I romanced Astarion (cause looks and because he suddenly hit on me before the party). So, you know, ez fun. Later on I did some smooching with Wyll too, and Astarion called me out on it so I did the right thing and ended things with the Blade. In my mind I had already decided that I'd let the companions do their own thing - it made sense for Alexena's personality. So, in the end, I let Astarion ascend, eventhough I knew I would break up with him soon after.

That is a funny thing. I am not, and was never into the whole vampire aesthetic. I even refused to play Vampire (a ttrpg) and instead joined a D&D group back in high school. It's just not my thing. I'm more the big-ass warhammer, large pauldrons, teeth smashing kinda girl. So I was surprised with myself, truly, that I really got into Astarion as the game progressed (and I was very whatever about him at first, just went with the flow).

He grew on me immensely (his story arch is great and I love me some angst), but I did NOT want to be a vampire. I wanted to continue to be a human woman, who would grow old and die. That was my tragedy - the fact that a human life is one of the briefest in the lore. And in my logic, it made no sense to ask Astarion to NOT ascend for my sake, or whatever, when I'd die in a blink and he'd live alone. Kinda selfish, in my view. Also, the thing was that the Ascension promised to quench his vampiric hunger (which in DnD lore is so horrible it drives vampires to madness), and allow him to be in the sun. Alexena would end a relationship even if she was in love if it was the best to do. Coincidentally I learned that when I refused to be bitten, Astarion also thought the same and so we broke up anyway.

Which takes me back to Karlach. Her breakdown after Gortash BROKE ME. I took a no shit 1 month+ break from my run after that scene. I was devastated - and honestly mad at Larian for just leaving her story like that (still am). In the end I swallowed my disappointment and rushed the end fight just to get the game over with. Alexena decided to go with her, with this impossibly amazing woman that was as strong as herself. So off she went with her to Avernus, with her friend. Two badass barbarian women raging and smacking the shit out of devils and demons.

The end was disappointing overall, and, to be honest, after Karlach's quest journal said "we did all we could for her", I tried a Karlach Origin run cause I was sure I'd missed something. I was okay with the separation from Astarion because it made sense, role-playing wise, for me to break up with him. But the Karlach thing just threw me off the last half of the experience.

BUT HEY. That's Alexena, my alter ego in fantasy games :3

#baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #karlach #astarion #baldur's gate #tav #bg3 tav #tav story #bg3 opinion #games #random #spoilers! #bg3 spoilers

[darling-i-read-it]

A new hunger games book?

A new twilight book?

I am only a child now, reading her first fandoms my heart

#low key excited but also not so low key #i already pre ordered the new hunger games

[rheanrya]

twilight fam - do I pre-order midnight sun?

#honestly i need help #coz i already pre ordered the new hunger games novel #and i feel like major nostalgia rn #so wanna know #midnight sun #twilight #twilight renaissance #clarissa.txt

[pedropascalunofficial]

Pedro Pascal and Lena Headey

Head to head interview

Hunger Magazine, Issue 6. Released December 28, 2014. Photoshoot October 15, 2013.

Thirteen million. That's the number of people, on average, who tuned into each episode of the third season of Game of Thrones. Among them was Chilean actor Pedro Pascal, who was as enthralled by the sex and slaughter as the rest of us. But little did he know that within a few months he'd be pitching up on the shores of Belfast to join the cast as Oberyn Martell, affectionately known as the Red Viper. Sound ominous? It is. The Red Viper is GoTs newest anti-hero, “sexy and charming but driven by hate”. Sounds like he'll be right at home.

Pedro, on the other hand, though he looks good on paper, wasn't the obvious choice for the role. Expecting a big name to ride into King’s Landing, the show's fans took to forums to express their concerns as soon as the news broke. So is he worried? Like hell he is. “The fans had the part cast in their minds already. They knew who they wanted and it certainly was not me. But I'm not stupid, | presumed that people were going to say ‘who the fuck is this guy’. Since I anticipated the reaction it didn't throw me off.”

“There are so many different ways to go into battle with yourself when you're trying to get a job. I felt a certain amount of pressure because I wanted to make everyone happy. The fan base is so specific and, as a fan myself, I understand the relationship that they have with the show. The Red Viper is the best part I've ever played, and in season four shocks come at the most unexpected times. You might think you know, but you have no idea,” he explains.

Looks like the Red Viper could be in line to fill a Walter-White-sized-hole in television, but to test the theory we pit Pascal against Lena Headey, aka the Queen. Because if you can come away from Cersei unscathed, you can handle anything.

LH: So, Pedro, you come into Game of Thrones in season four, playing a pretty major character. Does that fill you with joy or dread?

PP: I'd say it fills me with joy because it’s a really fucking fun part. He’s a badass. He comes up against a lot of the main characters in the show. I'm very aware of the show. I watch it like a fan.

LH: Were you a fan before you arrived in Belfast?

PP: Yeah, I was a proper fan. I was caught up in the drama of it before I even auditioned for the part. I was already up to speed.

LH: I remember meeting you and thinking, “he fucking loves the show’.

PP: I kissed your ass.

LH: Well, it worked. We're friends now.

PP: I was like a tourist visiting the set, and yet I had to act with you and be in a scene with the characters that I had such a specific association with already.

LH: So you’re saying it’s boring?

PP: No, it wasn’t boring at all. It was extremely, relentlessly surreal.

LH: And who were your favourite characters up until that point?

PP: Not you.

LH: I realise that!

PP: There are too many characters to have a favourite, but I was fascinated by the Lannisters because they're so frightening. They scared me and then you would come in and pull sympathy from your audience somehow, and I found that rather fascinating. The Northerners were so easy to like or get behind, but it was quite something to see people sympathise with a Lannister, after you made people see things from their perspective.

LH: Speaking of being slightly ambiguous as a character, you come in as a major player and a very well-loved character in the eyes of people who read the books, and he’s somewhat of an anti-hero. Did you base him on anyone?

PP: What does an anti-hero mean exactly?

LH: It means he doesn't wear deodorant, doesn't it? [Laughs]. Someone you shouldn't champion, but you do, like Walter White in Breaking Bad.

PP: No, | didn’t really base him on anyone.

LH: Did you take anything from classic movies that you thought you could use and spin to your advantage playing the Red Viper?

PP: God, that’s a good question. I probably did subconsciously. Now I feel under the spotlight because I need to think of somebody, and I have so many in my mind! I think that’s something that is happening a lot in TV today: the anti-heroes are central to these television shows, and people are really getting behind them, even though they're not necessarily the most moral characters. So I'd say that ‘ve become more familiar with the character who's obviously very flawed but gets you on their side — you have complicated feelings about them. But I think I saw the story too much from this character's perspective to perceive any flaws.

LH: He has some.

PP: I know, from the outside. But I don't see any of them. What are his flaws?

LH: His flaws? He's a dirty bastard!

PP: Why is he a dirty bastard? He likes to fucking fight, for sure.

LH: Back to you as an actor. You've done it for a long time and, as we all know, the path is not always golden, and sometimes you think, “fuck it” and you want to leave it and do something else. Have there been moments where you wanted to give up?

PP: Yes, there have been moments where I came very close to giving up. But I never had anything to fall back on. I think you can understand that.

LH: Because were stupid?

PP: We're stupid.

LH: I can't even make pizza!

PP: We don’t have any other skills.

LH: None at all!

PP: And that’s the odd conundrum. You get to a point where you think, “This isn’t going to happen. This isn’t sustainable. I'm too exhausted, and it can't be good for me.” There were moments where I truly did try to formulate an idea of what I'd do. I thought I'd go back to school, start pre-med again and go to medical school or something like that.

LH: But that didn't happen, you just thought about it?

PP: Yes, I'd have thoughts, but it was still fantasy really. But at the time it felt like a practical life plan. Do you know what I mean?

LH: Yeah of course, you need to pay the fucking rent.

PP: Exactly. You just try to escape from the chaos of what you're feeling by trying to create order in your life. Order seems like a solution to save you from the pain of acting!

LH: It's a mental pain. Who was the first person you called when you got the role?

PP: My sister.

LH: Does she watch the show?

PP: Yes, she does.

LH: Pedro Pascal... or Pablo as I called you when I had too much wine, which was deeply insulting.

PP: Even family members have done that to me! Do I look more like a Pablo? Because it happens with about ninety-five percent of the people I meet.

LH: No, I think I’m just an ignorant drunk person.

PP: No, you were an ignorant drunk person that night is what you're saying.

LH: And now I’m educated.

PP: [Whispers] But | want you to call me Pablo.

LH: Ok, Pablo! When you first arrived on set in Northern Ireland, what was your feeling showing up to a bunch of British actors? Did it feel different to doing an American project?

PP: Yes, but I loved it. It wasn’t intimidating. I found it surreal because I’d watched and loved the show. I hadn't had the opportunity to work on something that I was really familiar with before, so it was overwhelming. But it was far more delightful than intimidating. Also you guys were really cool. Everyone was friendly.

LH: Oh, that’s just fake.

PP: Well, you guys were good at it!

LH: We know Game of Thrones is very popular obviously. Do you have any thoughts, or fears, about what this is going to bring you in terms of exposure?

PP: I have hope.

LH: Oh, God. I don’t mean to shatter that, but give it up.

PP: I don’t know really. It’s all been filmed, and now I'm back to my normal routine, so I haven't really thought about it. I remember when we finished filming and we were on our way to the airport, you asked me, “How does it feel you're all done?” and I couldn't really answer.

LH: You were quite emotional that day.

PP: I was very emotional because I’d had such an amazing time doing the part. Also just being there immersed in the experience... You described it to me best. You told me how I'd be feeling.

LH: We don't know your character's backstory when you enter the show, and you have some rather brutal scenes. Anyone who has read the books will know what I’m talking about.

PP: My character comes in, he stirs a bunch of shit up, and then he makes this fucking enormous exit. Now can | ask you a question?

LH: What is it? I’m not going to sleep with you. Give it up.

PP: Oh, come on! This has gone to shit and it’s your fault, so good luck to whoever has to edit it! But anyway, sometimes I'd hang out with the cast members and we'd go to dinner and they would get stopped constantly. There was no denying who they played because they were so recognisable, but you got away with it because you have this beautiful blonde wig on in the show, and in real life you are...

LH: Grey?

PP: {Laughs] No! You have beautiful chestnut hair! Is it liberating to not be recognised the way some of the other cast members are?

LH: Yes, it is liberating.

PP: Liberating being able to walk down an alley in Dubrovnik without being stopped?

LH: Yes, except sometimes | get recognised in the weirdest places. A woman was emptying my bag at Heathrow Airport's security gates and just went, “Are you the Queen?” while rummaging through my underwear. It was so fucking weird.

PP: It seems they're more respectful to you?

LH: Because they're frightened. Wait until they meet the Viper.

PP: Well, that covers it.

LH: I think we're going to get our own show out of this, you know

Interested in learning more about Pedro? Check out Pedro Pascal Unofficial on Pinterest!

#pedro pascal #lena headey #hunger magazine #shot October 2013 #published December 2014 #game of thrones #queen cersei #prince oberyn #oberyn #oberyn martell #hunger tv

[ro2m]

Survival Island: Nether upgrades

Last week was a wild ride. I put my exploration hat on and found tons of goodies on and around my islands that will help make life on the survival islands a whole bunch for interesting (and aesthetically pleasing)! And I ain’t putting that hat off this week! I’ve got some plans that might involve a *little* bit of danger.

But first, a potato update:

Yes! After posting last week I boated around the ocean and found potatoes in a shipwreck. I’m very happy to have found them, because potatoes are one of my favorite crops in the game for several reasons. I love potatoes in all kinds of ways as a food in real life, especially with gravy. In Minecraft, they’re also very efficient to farm since every drop you get upon harvest can be used to either eat or plant more (poisonous potatoes are the exception, but still). With fortune 3, that racks up the yield even more. Baked potatoes restore 2,5 full hunger bars and give you 6 saturation points, which is really quite great if you take the ease of getting them into consideration. This will be my diet for the forseeable future!

Alright, let’s get started with the big activity this week: Going to the Nether. It’s filled with resources, especially since 1.16 released last year. It will definitely take this survival island experience to a new level! Last week I found a good amount of diamonds, so I put them to good use.

I went into the mines, found some obsidian and went to look for a spot to build my Nether portal. I wanted a spot where I could have some freedom to decorate it. Why? Because I can! I mean, come on, it’s a hecking portal to another dimension!

I ended up picking the island that was across the underwater geode close to my main island. It’s one of the bigger ones I got, so I’ve got plenty of space to work with.

Once I got into the Nether, I didn’t expect to be in such an enclosed space. Usually I get swarmed by Hoglins or Magma Cubes, so this was a new experience.

The only downside to it was having to dig really deep into the walls in order to find an open area. But, it turned out I’m located on an edge between a Soul Sand Valley and a Crimson Forest. After some exploration I also found a Basalt Delta, so I’ve already got a good variety of biomes to my disposal.

In my time exploring the Nether a bit, I also found a chicken jockey. I suffocated the Zombified Piglin riding it, lured the chicken home and afked for one full hour in the hopes for eggs. But alas, it turns out those chickens won’t lay eggs and will eventually despawn too. I had my hopes for a chicken dinner, but the Minecraft gods decided no…

Once back to the Crimson Forest I realised I could get my hands on leather. Pre-1.16 I would’ve been unable to do so without leaving the island as I don't have any cows to breed, but Hoglins form a perfect source of meat and leather. My annitial plan was to barter with piglins for leather, but this option saved me tons of gold.

It took me a couple of hours, but eventually I got enough leather for bookshelves! I’d already been farming sugar cane a lot, so paper was no problem. My first three enchants were REALLY lucky aswell, so this is very promising!

For now I'm going to focus on the Overworld for a while again. As much of a warrior I think I am in this game, I'm not equipped enough to comfortably travel through the Nether yet. Besides, I'm in need of a mobfarm! I've got some ideas brewing, so I hope you all are as excited as I am for it. It's time to get some upgrades!

Until next week,

-RO2_

#minecraft 1.17 #minecraft #nether portal #survival island #survival #exploration #dangerous #potato

[footballfanfictions]

The thrill of the chase - Chapter Two

Pairings: Mason Mount/OC, Ben Chilwell/OC

Authors Note: Sorry that this has taken a little longer than anticipated and thank you so much for all the love for the first part.

--------------------------------------------------------------

One of the main drawbacks of working with social media, is that you are always on social media and you’re constantly bombarded with information and images that make you feel downright crap about yourself.

I’d been asked to take over the instagram page of one of the high profile players at the club and his entire feed was just one supermodel and influencer after the other with the odd footballer thrown in to balance it out. They were all so stunning that it truly made me feel awful about myself, how could it not? My salary was pretty good for a new graduate but not quite good enough for weekly manicures, lip fillers and hair extensions and my time management wouldn’t stretch for that either, I barely made my eyebrow wax appointments.

I was trying to avoid looking at the player’s DMs while I posted a few pictures from the pre-season training sessions to his feed, but the notifications pinging every few minutes was getting quite annoying.

Has it been Brianna with access to his account and not me, she would have gone straight to his messages to read them. I preferred to live in blissful ignorance to the sleazy ways of the men around me. I already felt like finding a good guy was absolutely hopeless.

I had been renting a flat and I was saving for a deposit to buy a house, hoping that by the time I had saved up enough to buy that I would have found the right person to live with. If I were to attempt this alone, with London house prices I would be around  60 by the time I had saved enough alone.

The message notifications continued to come in and whoever Sam was, she was really keen.

I logged out after posting the final image and prayed I wouldn’t have to go into it again. The less I knew about their private lives, the better. It would be pretty awkward to be sat in the staff and players’ family box at a game knowing that the wife of someone I knew was cheating was close by. Best to steer clear of those complications.

Brianna hadn’t visited my office at all and by 12 I was both worried and hungry and decided to go looking for her.

I tried the kit room first but it was empty and surprisingly tidy. Dave kept a tight ship and liked everything to be in its place but it wasn’t often possible with the sheer volume of kits that needed to be looked after.

As I backed out of the kit room and closed the door, I felt something hit me in the back.

“Sorry” mumbled the voice from behind me. “I was looking for Dave, I need a new top.”

I knew who it was but I didn’t really want to turn around and look at him.

“They’re not in there, I was just looking for him and Brianna too.” I responded in an emotionless tone, shrugging.

“Why are you being so weird?” he asked.

I turned to face him then and gave him a look of contempt before I answered him. “Maybe I just don’t enjoy spending time around footballers?”

“No offence love, but I think you might be in the wrong job if that is the case.” he put his hand on the door, next to my head where I was practically pinned against the door by how close he was to me. Only then did I realise that the training top that he was wearing was ripped, front he shoulder to his navel, the material hanging and exposing his toned chest and abs. I tried to look away but he had caught me looking and was now smirking.

“Maybe it’s just you that puts me off.” I shrugged as I ducked under his arm, escaping from my position between him and the door.

“You really don’t like me?” He huffed. “I don’t remember doing anything to offend you personally.”

“Maybe I’m offended that privileged young lads get money, fame and praise just for kicking a ball around a muddy field. Try something more impressive, like curing cancer or performing life saving surgery, ending world hunger, ending wars.” I groaned in frustration. Maybe that was the truth of it. Why should he get all the praise and admiration that he got, just for playing a sport? There were so many incredible people in the world doing, or working towards the things in that list that never got half the praise that Mason Mount did for kicking a ball.

He looked a bit dumb struck.

I went in again, “Maybe I don’t like you assuming that I should be into you, just because you’re Mason Mount, England and Chelsea midfielder. Maybe that’s what the girls in the club that throw themselves at your feet are into, but it’s not for me.”

I made to leave and he grabbed my hand and mumbled, “Sorry, I’ll leave you alone from now on.”

I didn’t respond. Just pulled my hand from his and stormed off towards the boot room, leaving him outside of the kit room in his ripped shirt.

“Fuck it smells like feet in here.” I complained, walking into the boot room with my nose pinched between my fingers in disgust.

“When I said that I liked shoes to dad, this is not what I meant.” Brianna laughed.

“What are you doing in here, I didn’t think boots were part of your job?” I asked, perching on one of the benches while Bri sat on the floor, sorting through a massive pile of boots to try and match up the pairs. They were in all sorts of bright colours and differing sizes. If I had to guess, I’d guess that she had been at her task for hours.

“Dad and the boot guy had some sort of emergency” she shrugged.

I laughed at that, wondering what kind of emergency you could have that involved kits and boots. Maybe they hadn’t ordered the right brand or something and one of the stars wasn’t going to get his cash from his boot deal if they didn’t find him the right pair.

There was a little tap on the sliding glass door that lead out onto the pitches and stood there was the guy from the other day that had held the door to the cafeteria open for us. He looked a little sheepish.

“Are you going to let him in?” I asked Bri, trying to unbury her from the pile of boots by throwing some of them into a pile, all of the orange ones in one corner, the yellow in another pile and pink in another and so on.

“Oh yeah.” she said, standing and brushing herself off, and adjusting her skirt that rode up her thighs slightly. The guy had noticed and I watched as he tried to look away and then down at his feet. At first I hadn’t thought that his shyness was that genuine. Footballers were all confident cocky little shits in my book, I’d never met one that was shy and unsure of himself.

Bri unlocked the door and let him in.

“I’m sorry to bother you, but only one of these fits” he said, holding up a pair of lime green boots and giving Bri an apologetic smile.

“Oh shit” she said, taking the pair from him and inspecting them. “I’ve given you one 10 and one 9.5.” she looked through the pile of lime green boots until she said “aha!” triumphantly brandishing another size 10 boot. “Here you go my love.”

That as just Bri’s way, she called everyone little pet names all the time, but he didn’t know that and he was blushing profusely and I was almost certain that his hands were shaking as he laced the boots up.

“Thank you so much.” he mumbled, looking like he was about to die of embarrassment. He turned to walk back out of the sliding door, but hadn’t realised that Bri had shut it behind him, so he ended up walking straight into the glass, hitting it with enough force to emmit a cracking noise from his nose which was suddenly streaming with blood.

I jumped up from my seat and crossed the room to him, avoiding the piles of boots the best that I could, not wanting to add myself to the casualty list.

I had an unused tissue in my pocket, that I took out and pressed to his nose. It was instantly bright red and the blood poured straight through it.

“Bri can you go and warn the medical room that we need to bring him down?” I asked.

She nodded in agreement and rushed out of the room.

I put my arm around his waist and guided him back over to the benches. He sat down and I slipped my cardigan off. It was a very thin material and already a deep shade of red. I didn’t let him protest as I replaced the tissue with my cardigan. It was the best that we had, and he looked like he was in a lot of pain.

“I’ve never seen anyone get that flustered before.” i laughed, sitting down beside him. He managed to give me a pained grin.

‘It’s Bri isn’t it? Is she why you were waiting by the canteen door the other day?” I asked gently, patting him reassuringly on the back. “I wanted to send her out of the room so that I could ask you, and also to reassure you that you shouldn’t be embarrassed about this. I’ve seen Bri do a lot more embarrassing things. She’s always falling over and hurting herself. You would make quite the pair.” I laughed.

He shook his head and mumbled “I can’t ask her out”.

“Why the hell not?” i scoffed.

“She has a boyfriend doesn’t she?” he shrugged, looking really sombre.

“Ah no, not anymore. Things are definitely over between her and that prick, and between you and me, if she ever gets back together with him, I’ll give her a matching broken nose.” I bumped shoulders with his, trying to cheer him up, just as Bri came back into the room and told us that the medical room were waiting for him.

“Can you come with me?” he asked, not talking to Bri, but to me instead.

“Sure, I would do anything to get out of work this afternoon. Our twitter page today is just full of fans that are disappointed that we didn’t use the Hazard money to sign Messi.” I laughed, getting up and guiding him towards the door.

“Can we catch up later?” I asked Bri before leaving the room, she nodded and told me she would be free all evening.

As we walked down the corridor I said to him “See, no plans to see a boyfriend” and he blushed again.

One of the medical assistants rushed out to meet us and guided him into the room exclaiming “Billy, what the hell? How have you done that?”

He shrugged, clearly feeling embarrassed about how he had injured himself. So when they looked over at me for clarification, I shrugged too.

Billy wasn’t the only player needing the use of the treatment room. As he sat down on one of the chairs, I noticed that Ben was in there too.

The medic went about dabbing Billy’s nose and he cried out in pain.

“Sorry about your cardigan.” he said, looking down at the red material on his lap. He didn’t need it now that he was getting patched up.

“Honestly don’t worry about it Billy.” I grinned.

The medic then mumbled something about needing something and left the room.

That gave Billy a bit more confidence to talk about what had happened.

“And thank you for the advice about your friend.” Billy seemed a bit happier as he said that, and I could see Ben out of the corner of my eye looking over at us as Billy spoke.

“Please tell me you’re going to ask her out!” Ben laughed.

I turned to look at him and smiled. “You know?”

Ben nodded and looked at Billy with a horrified expression “Oh god, you asked her out and she punched you.”

I shook my head. “Not exactly.” I said.

“The boyfriend was here for some reason, and he punched you?’ Ben went on, standing up and coming over to Billy. He walked with a slight limp.

He stood in between us.

“Why are you in here if you don’t mind me asking?” I looked down at his leg while asking the question.

“It’s my hamstring, nothing too serious.” He smiled.

“Don’t laugh at me when I tell you how I did this.” Billy warned, pointing at his nose. “I walked into a sliding glass door that I thought was open, all because she gave me a pair of boots and called me love.” he groaned, covering his face in embarrassment.

Ben laughed and clapped Billy on the back with his hand. “Oh mate, no wonder you’re embarrassed.” he then addressed me, asking “Just how cringy was it?”

I shook my head before answering him, “I honestly don’t think it was that bad. Bri is pretty oblivious sometimes and I don’t actually think she realised the real reason for you hurting yourself. So if you were to pluck up the courage to speak to her, I wouldn’t even bring it up.”

_________________________________________________________

The next day, I was looking out at the training pitches while I waited for the coffee machine to finish making my drink when there was a gentle tap on my door.

I crossed the room and opened it, expecting it to Bri or maybe even the club photographer giving me some new pictures of the squad to use, but it was Ben.

“Hi, are you free?” he asked, giving me one of his sweet smiles.

“Yeah come in.” I said, stepping back into my office and letting him pass me so that I could hold the door open.

“That coffee smells nice”. He remarked.

“Do you want one? Or did I put you off the other day?” I smiled.

“Ah no thanks, and no you didn’t put me off. I’ve never really liked the stuff. I like the smell of coffee, it just doesn’t taste as good as it smells.” as he spoke I realised that he was holding something in a plastic bag.

He realised that I was looking at it. “It’s your cardigan. I washed it for you at home. Think I got all the blood out but it’s red so I can’t really tell.”

I was for once, speechless. It was a small gesture but it was really kind all the same. I thought about making a witty remark about it actually being his mother or an employed cleaner that washed it for him but I just couldn’t bring myself to.

“Thank you, you didn’t have to do that. It’s only an old primark cardigan.” I said, taking the bag from him.

I suddenly felt a bit flustered in his company. He had that charming smile and didn’t really look like a cocky footballer to me. He didn’t act like one much either, he was just kind of like the guy next door, or the guy you would see on Tinder with a picture of him with his mates at the only photo on the profile so you couldn’t tell which one you were swiping for.

In all honesty, he kind of reminded me of my ex boyfriend Rory. He had the same sort of look, and they had similar accents. Maybe it was nostalgia that made me find being around Ben comforting.

‘I think your coffee is done.” he said, gesturing to the machine.

I nodded and walked over to the machine, taking the cup and adding some creamer and sugar. As I stirred the cup, he leant against my desk and crossed his arms over his chest.

“Something is bothering me if I’m honest.” he said.

“What is it?” I asked curiously.

“Mason said that you told him that you hate all footballers because we’re privileged and get too much clout for what we do.” He looked slightly disappointed in me. “Thing is, I don’t entirely disagree with you. Maybe we do get paid too much for what we do, and maybe doctors and nurses deserve way more praise than we do. I also don’t think that you hate all footballers. You were really kind to Blly yesterday and he won’t forget that in a hurry. You really helped him.” he continued.

“I don’t hate Billy, and I don’t think I hate you either.” I said quietly, taking a sip of my coffee.

“That is interesting.” he grinned, as he took one of my hands and guided me over to him, to stand in between his legs where he now sat on the edge of my desk.

Instinctively I put my coffee cup down and he put his arms around my waist.

“It’s interesting?-” he cut me off before I could say anything else, by pressing his lips against mine. The kiss is soft and gentle and lasts only a few seconds. He testing me and my brain is going in so many different directions. Am I actually going back on all of my principles and kissing a fucking footballer right now? And am I only doing it because he reminds me of my ex?

He moves to pull away, breaking the contact between our lips and I let out the tiniest whimper before putting my hand on the back of his head and pulling him back in for more. This time his tongue slips past my parted lips. My hand at the back of his head grips a generous handful of his hair and one of his hands makes its way to my bum.

My body feels like it is on fire. It has been a bloody long time since anyone kissed or touched me, and I hadn’t quite realised just how starved of affection I had been until I got a taste of it, a taste of him.

The telephone on my desk started to ring,and although I tried to ignore it, I just couldn’t. My job meant a lot to me and if it were Marina or someone of equal importance I would be chastised for missing the call.

We broke the kiss at the same time and I apologised to him. He grinned and fired back that I didn’t need to apologise and that he needed to get back to training, and by the time I picked up the phone, he was gone.

#mason mount #ben chilwell #billy gilmour #football fanfiction #football fanfic

[popopodogrev]

Tharizdun and Exandria’s leap in progress

“Watching. Potential. Learn. Grow. Provoke. Consume. Reward. Patience”.

Uk'otoa "The Open Road" (2x05)

It was talked at length how the theme of hunger is prevalent in this campaign. And this hunger has many faces – from the literal hunger of Kylre the Nergaliid to the metaphorical hunger for wealth of Vokodo to the hunger for freedom of Uk'otoa. And many people theorize that it is the influence of Tharizdun, the Chained Oblivion that prompts the rise of insatiable hunger in many beings.  

But I want to talk about another type of hunger which showed up time and time again.

The hunger for knowledge.

More importantly, I want to talk about how the rise of hunger in the world is associated with negative phenomena like corruption and madness– but at the same time, the coming of Tharizdun could also prompt (and already prompts) the biggest leap in technological and magical advancement in Exandria’s history – because it is Tharizdun that makes hungry minds search for answers.

One of the most prominent examples of it is the story of Fjord. Uk'otoa (the being whose “hunger” is speculated to be influenced by Tharizdun) in his dreams tells him not to simply obey or follow his commands – no, he tells him to use his natural curiosity and ambition to become more powerful – and to do so by learning. Note how in the beginning of campaign Fjord’s goal is to get to the Soltryce Academy to learn about his new powers – and when that doesn’t work out, he is still eager to learn what Uk’otoa offers him (in the "Stalker in the Swamp" (2x21) his patron saying “Learn” prompts Fjord to dive into the pool). Only with the help of Caduceus and the Wild Mother he is able to cope with his hunger.

Then let’s look at Fjord’s First Mate - Beauregard. She is the group’s Number 1 note-taker, researcher, theorizer, truth-revealer. Her whole story is tied to the Cobalt Soul monks whose goal is to seek knowledge...

But is it really?

The Cobalt Soul worships The Knowing Mistress, Ioun who was forever wounded by Tharizdun – and it seems to me that, with possibility of Tharizdun’s release Ioun make the Soul lean more towards their second goal – to root out corruption, of which the Chained Oblivion is both the main representation and the main source (note how Beau gets not some high researching position in the Order like an “archivist” – but the position of the Expositor).

But of course, we cannot talk about hunger for knowledge without talking about Caleb. From episode 1 he was curious, he had appetite for knowledge – but as we saw later, many times he was borderline hungry for it (and because of it, he was able to develop unique relationships with both Fjord and Beau who also very inquisitive in nature and face the same temptation as him – note how it was Caleb and Beau who read the eye-granting book of DeRogna). For many episodes his goal was to unravel the secrets of time itself – and now, when we all thought that he was finally able to keep that hunger in line, the secrets of Aeor – and Cognouza ward – proved to be his hardest test yet.

The same Cognouza ward which is speculated to be corrupted by the Chained Oblivion.  

But theme of searching for answers, of desire to know runs like a thread through all of the Mighty Nein’s story. Clerics frequently use Speak with Dead, Commune and Scry – to try to learn new information, to gain advantage, to understand what is really going on (note how it was Jester who used the divination circle in Eiselcross).

And this is what really makes the Mighty Nein’s story different from Vox Machina’s – they must unravel the secrets of world, dive deep into the lost knowledge, theorize, search and learn to even try to defeat their enemies (and note how it was Molly who never wanted to know anything about his past – and where it got us).

But as I said above, not only Mighty Nein are prone to this hunger for knowledge. The whole world of Exandria and its denizens become more agitated. Take, for example, Yussa – Yussa, the great wizard, the owner of the Open Quay who lived for hundreds of years – but it is now that he cannot keep his morbid curiosity at bay and puts himself in danger time and time again (and note that he got stuck second time in Cognouza). We all joked that he is High Int Low Wis character – and while he certainly is, it does sound a bit strange that his desire for knowledge would overcome him like this.

Unless he too succumbs to the influence of Tharizdun like all those who seek knowledge.

But nothing can compare in terms of thirst for knowledge to what Essek did. When he decided to become a traitor to the Dynasty, when he decided to give Beacons to the Empire so he can research them he was influenced by a number of social and psychological factors – but at the very heart of it, Essek Thelyss, the Shadowhand, was hungry to learn – to learn the nature of the Beacons and the Luxon, the nature and possibilities of the dunamancy itself. After 120 years of life his natural curiosity, his desire to learn was too accelerated by Tharizdun – and to quench his hunger for knowledge and power, Essek starts a war.

And it goes without mention that dunamancy is like the perfect metaphor for that. Both Essek and Caleb are eager to find true limits of this school of magic and therefore spend a lot of time exploring the ruins of Aeor (and note the many signs of connection between Luxon, dunamancy and Tharizdun – the wording of 9th level spells “Ravenous Void” and “Time Ravage” yet again refers to the theme of hunger. Caleb and Essek wanting to master dunamancy quite literally means mastering the hunger of the Universe).  

So, considering all the examples mentioned above (and so many things that I didn’t touch upon), we may say that the hunger of Tharizdun sips through every level of one’s live on Exandria, both on personal and societal scale. Twenty years ago, there were no guns in Exandria save for Percy’s inventions - now we have Hupperdook which is the Empire’s first industrial town and the main research center for the “new and volatile technology” of gunpowder and guns. Twenty years ago, the dunamancy was a mysterious to Kryn and unknown to Empire - now we have research centers in Rexxentrum and people like Essek digging for answers. Twenty years ago, Exandrians knew almost nothing about Aeor and the Age of Arcanum – now we witness the emergence of pre-Calamity robotic society of aeormatons which can spread the lost technology around the world.

So, it won’t be a stretch to say that, if the coming of Tharizdun is not addressed in this campaign, in the next twenty years Exandria will become the most technologically and magically advanced it has ever been in its history. In this context the Moon Theory and Spelljammer setting (hints of which can be found throughout the games) would make so much sense for Campaign 3 – as they are the perfect blend of high technology and magic to which Exandria is rapidly approaching.  

#critical role #cr meta #cr spoilers #mighty nein #dungeons & dragons #i hope you can see how hard i was procrastinating writing my bachelor's theris

[septembercfawkes]

Understanding the Mirror Moment

The first time I heard of the "mirror moment" I cringed--because the only "mirror moment" I knew in writing, was the very cliche, often touted as a no-no, mirror moment in the opening of a book, where the protagonist stares at her or himself in the mirror to describe her or his appearance. This is frowned upon for several reasons that would be better saved for another post (and yes, all rules can be broken).

Luckily THEE mirror moment is something totally different! It's a moment that comes right at the middle of your story (aka, the midpoint) and doesn't actually require anything close to a physical mirror. This is a term coined by best-selling writer, James Scott Bell, and it's his version we are here to talk about today. (Sorry other "mirror moment"--I'll save you for another post).

Midpoint Ambiguity --> Specificity

The mirror moment is a component of the midpoint.

Now, I gotta be honest: There are several different definitions of what a midpoint is and what happens at it.

The first definition I was introduced to, was that the midpoint was where new information entered the story to provide more context for what is actually happening in the plot--it gives the protagonist a "bigger picture" of the events that are going on.

This in turn leads the protagonist to move from a reactionary state to a pro-action state, or in other words, it moves them from wandering around to becoming more of a warrior and fighting antagonistic forces more aggressively.

I did a whole post on that midpoint concept here. And I was first introduced to it by Larry Brooks in Story Engineering.

Another school of thought on the midpoint is that it is a seeming victory or a seeming defeat for the protagonist. They either seem to get what they want, when they really haven't, or they seem to lose their heart's desire, when they really haven't. This is how Blake Snyder views midpoints in Save the Cat!

Personally, the more time goes on, the more I think both definitions are right. So these days, I prefer to combine them together:

The midpoint is a significant event and/or revelation that is either a seeming victory or a seeming defeat for the protagonist. It provides a broader understanding of what's actually happening in the plot, enabling the protagonist to become more proactive in their goals.

The midpoint almost always happens right in the middle of the story.

And it pivots the story into the second half.

If you are newer to story structure and still feel like you don't understand what a midpoint is and what it looks like, no worries, you'll still be able to learn about the mirror moment and implement it.

If you want to understand midpoints better, you can find more info on them here, here, here, and here.

What is the Mirror Moment?

The mirror moment is the moment the protagonist moves from reaction to pro-action (typically), on a deep, personal level, and it happens on page.

See, James Scott Bell also noticed there were different schools of thought on what happened at the midpoint: "I was never clear on what that thing was, because there’s conflicting advice on it, and some of it’s vague. So I set about to see if I was missing anything."

As Bell researched the direct middle of several books and movies, he realized each midpoint had the same moment (and shared it with us in his book, Write Your Novel from the Middle), an instance where the protagonist has to have a heart to heart with himself--where he is forced to look at himself in the mirror, so to speak--and reflect on who he is and who he needs to become in order to succeed:

"He takes stock of where he is in the conflict and--depending on the type of story--has either of two basic thoughts. In a character-driven story, he looks at himself and wonders what kind of person he is. What is he becoming? If he continues the fight of [the middle], how will he be different? What will he have to do to overcome his inner challenges? How will he have to change in order to battle successfully?

"The second type of look is more for plot-driven fiction. It's where the character looks at himself and considers the odds against him. At this point, the force seems so vast that there is virtually no way to go on and not face certain death. That death can be physical, professional, or psychological."

It's also possible for the protagonist to have both lines of thought. 

Bell gives plenty of examples:

In Casablanca, Rick, drunk and bitter, puts his head in his hands in self-disgust, clearly wondering what he has become.

In Gone with the Wind, Scarlett looks inside herself and realizes she is the only one that can save Tara, and she wonders who she needs to become to do that.

In It's a Wonderful Life, Mr. Potter offers George a well-paying position in exchange for George giving up the Building & Loan his father started. George says he needs to think it over (a mirror moment), but soon after rejects the offer, because he realizes he can't become a man like Potter.

In The Fugitive, Dr. Kimble breaks down as he considers the odds against him.

Similarly, in The Hunger Games, Katniss accepts she will die--the odds are too great.

In a case where the odds are stacked against the protagonist, the protagonist may realize he or she needs to become stronger somehow to overcome them.

One of the amazing things about the mirror moment, is it often clues us into what the story is actually about, on the narrative level and/or on the thematic level.

Concerning Gone with the Wind's mirror moment, Bell explains, "That is the concept of Gone with the Wind. It's a story of a young Southern belle who is forced to save her family home."

Whether or not you fully grasp the other components of the midpoint, understanding the mirror moment can help bring clarity to the kind of story you are telling. It's an instance that pivots the story, from first half to second half. When you understand yours, you get a better grasp of what the first vs. second halves need to look like. This will help you consider how your protagonist is pre-mirror moment, vs. post-mirror moment.  

The mirror moment gets the protagonist on the proper trajectory to overcome his inner demons, flaws, weaknesses, or misbeliefs by the end.

Or . . . it might be a little different, depending on what kind of protagonist you are working with. If the protagonist has a negative change, then it sets him or her on the course to adopt inner demons, moral indecency, or misbeliefs by the end.

In some cases, the protagonist may choose not to become this new person or face these dire odds, which often will result in a tragedy.

And finally, I would add that a protagonist who is already positively steadfast may not do a big shift or flip, but will still become more proactive as she chooses to press on.  

Once the mirror moment is decided, the second half will test and prove it true. If the protagonist is resolving to become something more, then they need to show us by their actions (the "proaction"). We will need to test that resolve at the end of the middle (generally this is when the protagonist is faced with something especially painful and deadly). How committed are they to this journey? Normally, we need to see that they are all in by the last act.

Because how the protagonist changes or doesn't change is directly related to theme, the mirror moment is typically another signpost on the way to the true thematic statement.

You can learn more about the mirror moment, and how to use it to write your own story, in James Scott Bell's short book, Write Your Novel from the Middle.

#writing tip #writing tips and tricks #writeblr #fanfic #writing help #writer #writing life #writing reference #midpoint

[neobrogrippa]

What Do I Do Until SM5?

  Alright. Here you are. You have finished watching Friday’s livestream, you are all excited for Samurai Warriors 5, you have looked at the calendar ANNNDDD you have now realized we are still several weeks away from the game’s release. So, what do you do now? Well, Today I have come to offer some things to help pass the time until Samurai Warriors 5 is released. I will be offering various games and projects in various genres and platforms that may help either sustain you until SM5 or help build up your hype even more! I have even organized then by genre. I will not be including any other games in the Sengoku Musou series in this list. 1. Pre-Order The Game On Your Platform of Choice: No. Really. Remember to Pre-order the game if you haven’t already. It is great to be hyped but let Koei know that we love this franchise and hunger for it. 2. Mobile Games: If you are in Japan you have so many Sengoku based mobile games to choose from that it is mind blowing. In the west, however, it is a bit tougher. So I am going to suggest two. -Dating: Ikemen Sengoku: If you want historic accuracy this is seriously not the right game for you. It is several famous samurai as very pretty men all wanting to steal your heart and your attention. While some of the events may be a bit of a money grab on the part of the company who runs it the storylines and events are fantastic and the community is amazing. I recommend this highly! -Collection/Card/RPG: Touken Ranbu: For those who haven’t heard the famous Japanese mobile game “Touken Ranbu Online” launches in the west on Tuesday and I am hyped! It is a great game similar to Kantai Collection (Kancolle) or Sengoku Asuka Zero. Famous weapons as cool looking samurai guys! You can pre-register HERE. 3. Portable Games: Now, several of these games are also on Steam, the PS4, and possible even Xbox. However I am going to focus on games on the Vita and Switch. -PSVita: Toukiden, Toukiden Kiwami, Toukiden 2: Also on PS4 and Steam. I love this game so much. Toukiden and it’s upgrade Toukiden Kiwami are by Koei! Think of monster hunter but with a super heavy samurai feel to it! Fight horrible, giant yokai and craft amazing armor and weapons from their flesh! -PSVita: Muramasa The Demon Blade: Also on Wii this game is a fun side scrolling RPG with plenty of hack n’ slash all about leveling up the special weapons you get all with crazy powers and different magic abilities associated with them! -Switch: Fighting Game: Samurai Shodown: The new release/reboot of the classic fighting game series Samurai Shodown has met with great success. Set in the Edo Period you have fighters from all over the world but the game has a very heavy Japanese feel to it with Kabuki based characters, samurai based characters, ninja, priestesses, and all kinds of other unique fighters with their own themes and movesets! 4. Console Games: Games that you can sit down and play on Playstation, Xbox, or Steam. -RPG/Souls Like: Nioh and Nioh 2: I can’t say enough about these games. They are brutal, violent, and wonderful. Feudal Japan is full of Yokai for you to fight and slay your way through. While the story is full of demons, ghosts, and corruption Nioh (focusing on Sekigahara) and Nioh 2 (Focusing on the rise and fall of Toyotomi Hideyoshi) offer great incite in the era and strangely enough have some of the most historicly accurate portrayels I’ve ever seen when it comes to people of the time period. -RPG: Way of the Samurai 3: A unique RPG set in the Sengoku Era. Run around and collect weapons and play a fun, short story with a lot of different endings. -Strategy: Nobunaga’s Ambition Series: A wonderful series. These games take several days worth of play time to beat but they are a great experience for those that like strategy, town planning, and resource management. -Strategy/Military: Total War Shogun 2: If you enjoy samurai and the Sengoku Jidai and resource management but want more exciting combat and a larger focus on combat compared to Nobunaga’s Ambition check out this great came that, in spite of it’s age, is still played by many across the world even today. 5. Youtube and Podcasts: I know this isn’t quite as action packed as anything else I mentioned but for those that want to keep the hype up, brush up on history, and listen to something awesome I have three offerings for you. -Podcast: Samurai Archives: A great podcast hosted by great people who know their stuff. Every episode is focused on something from the Sengoku Era and I can’t recommend it enough. -Podcast: History of Japan: This podcast by Issac Meyer is great. He covers far more than just the Sengoku Era but he covers his topics thoroughly and passionately. He recently did a series of episodes on the Azai Sisters and as a large Azai fan myself I couldn’t help but be thrilled about it. -Youtube: The Shogunate: The Shogunate is a cool dude. He hosts Shogun 2 Total War tournaments and has very informative episodes organized into playlists about the history of the Sengoku Jidai.  6. Roleplay Forums: I’m going to shamelessly plug my own roleplay forum on this list. No one can stop me. For those not familiar with the concept you make your own original character(s) then you and others write a story based on those characters, taking turns to describe what your character is doing in various situation. So you might have a roleplay about your character and another having a dinner conversation, or being in a large fight against an enemy army! It is creative writing at it’s finest and is like D&D but with pen and paper. -Modern Era: Sengoku Horizon: It is a fantastic forum with a very niche theme. In modern times the Tokugawa government and it’s feudal system not got overthrown. Samurai, ninja, and lords still exist! You get to play as a college or high school student at a prestigious academy training the future leaders of Japan and can make a character that carries both a katana and cell phone in this exciting mix of modern life and Sengoku Era concepts.

#samurai warriors 5 #sengoku musou 5 #hype #samurai warriors #sengoku musou #muramasa #way of the samurai #way of the samurai 3 #samurai archives #history of japan #the shogunate #samurai shodown #ikemen sengoku #issac meyer #sengoku horizon #koei #koei tecmo #tecmo koei #Nioh #Nioh 2

[ollieofthebeholder]

leaves too high to touch (roots too strong to fall): a TMA fanfic

[1] [2] [3] [4] [5] [6] [7] [8] [9] [10] [11] [12] [13] [14] [15] [16] [17] [18] [19] Also on AO3

Chapter 20: Jon Prime

Jon had been worried, before they had come back in time, about how well he would adjust to being in the past, pre-Apocalypse. He wasn’t sure if he’d be able to handle the lessened level of terror, or the need to eat and sleep completely again, or being, essentially, less than he’d been, or for that matter the urge to storm the Institute and throttle Jonah Magnus in his office. He’d fretted about a lot of things.

As it turned out, none of them were things he needed to fret about.

His body reacclimated to human needs quickly enough, and it actually felt kind of good to feel the rumble of hunger or the drag of exhaustion again. It was definitely good to get back to cooking, which he’d sorely missed doing even if it felt odd to be cooking for more than himself and Martin. Martin had been right about his statement fueling Jon for a while, and his younger counterpart had taken to bringing home any real statements he came across; it was enough. And with Martin there, he didn’t feel less.

As for storming the Institute, that urge had been surprisingly easy to resist. Tim had managed to convince them to stay at his house longer by asking them to keep an eye on Past Martin while he healed. His excuse had been that Jon knew what Past Martin was going through and Martin knew what his past self was like, so they could keep him from doing anything stupid. Jon guessed there was more to it than that, but he didn’t want to pry into anyone’s minds, so he just let it go and agreed. It seemed simpler.

Martin had adapted well, too. Granted, he’d still been human—as far as Jon knew—before they came back, and he’d had two weeks to adjust to being blind before they were reunited, but he’d picked up on the cane Tim bought him fairly quickly. He didn’t seem to need it around the house, though, and when Jon questioned him about that, Martin said that he had a pretty good sense of direction when the world makes sense, Jon. And, honestly, Jon couldn’t argue with that. Tim spent a Sunday afternoon reorganizing his cupboards, then showed Martin where everything was so he could feel more independent in the kitchen while Jon watched from the doorway with a grin.

Past Martin got stronger by the day. At first, he mostly slept, which was fine with Jon, since it meant he could spend time with Martin and not feel guilty. He’d accidentally fallen asleep with his head on Martin’s lap one afternoon and woken to soft laughter, which is how he found out that Past Martin and Past Jon had apparently discussed things and Sasha was the only member of what Tim insisted on referring to as Team Archives who didn’t know they were together. After that, they’d dropped the pretense and just been themselves. It had been a huge relief to Jon. It had also been a relief—and a surprise—that Tim didn’t tease them mercilessly, but when he mentioned that to Martin, Martin just laughed and shook his head.

They’d all fallen into an easy domesticity. It was honestly the most surreal thing Jon had experienced in probably his entire life. Sasha and Past Jon were still staying with Tim—Jon had no idea what argument Tim had used on them, but it seemed to be working—and Jon delighted in watching the three of them, together with Past Martin, draw closer together into a cohesive unit that would be harder for Jonah to manipulate. Often, he would come out of the spare room from recording a statement, tape recorder in hand, to find them sharing stories or playing games and laughing. Some nights he joined in on the games, too, but mostly he just sat back with Martin and watched, grinning.

There were arguments. Of course there were arguments. They were all human beings with their own personalities and quirks. Nothing was going to be perfect harmony. Thankfully, they were usually made up fairly quickly. It felt like home, in a way, something Jon hadn’t experienced in he didn’t know how long. He knew it couldn’t last, but he was determined to enjoy it while he could.

Several weeks passed like that. Jon could see the signs that Past Martin was getting restless and impatient to be back at work—he listened hungrily to the team’s tales of what they’d been up to, ventured tentative suggestions on avenues of research or possible connections they might have missed—but he was, ultimately, a far better patient than Jon had been. Not that that was difficult.

As Past Martin’s recovery progressed, the three of them began taking walks in the afternoon, Jon letting the two Martins go ahead of him and following just behind. Partly it was that there really wasn’t room for them to walk three abreast, but mostly it was him giving them the opportunity to see what they were capable of on their own while he watched their backs, literally. At first they were slow circuits of a single block, and then Past Martin needed to sit down for quite a while, but within a couple of weeks he was walking easily and seemed almost back to normal. The scars healed better than they had for Jon, partly because Martin’s skin was fairer than Jon’s but mostly because Past Martin was better about both following doctor’s orders and not picking at the healing wounds. Tim’s had healed about the same, Jon remembered, a thought which still sent a lance of melancholy through him. And finally, the day came when he returned triumphantly from a check-up with the news that he’d been cleared to return to work that Monday.

“We’ll be glad to have you back,” Past Jon said sincerely, actually smiling in a way Jon couldn’t remember smiling until the too-brief time he and Martin had had in Scotland. “It’s all kind of…I won’t lie, it’s odd to sit around and keep working like nothing has changed. Like we don’t know what’s going on. But we’ve managed. There’s a lot more than can be easily done with three, though.”

“I’ll do whatever you need,” Past Martin promised. “God, it’ll feel good to get back into things.”

“Kind of surprised you didn’t try to get us to let you come back earlier, actually,” Tim teased him. “Don’t think none of us saw you chomping at the bit.”

Past Martin gestured to Jon and Martin. “They wouldn’t let me bring it up.”

“How long did you wait before going back?” Past Jon asked.

Jon grimaced. “A month. I should have stayed out longer, to be honest, and I ended up needing substantial physical therapy. But I was already obsessing over who killed Gertrude Robinson, and I didn’t handle being alone with my thoughts very well. Tim was out longer.”

“How long?” Tim asked curiously.

“Eight weeks, give or take.”

“So we can be away from the Institute? I thought you said…” Tim trailed off.

Jon paused, knife suspended over the cutting board. “I—I never thought of that. God, how did I not think of that? Our Tim seemed fine when he first came back, and he never said anything, but…”

“You can be away from the Institute, just not for good,” Martin said. “When you’re out…convalescing, that’s one thing. Even if you’re on an extended vacation, that should be okay. It’s if you try to leave, if you just up and walk away with the idea that you won’t be back, that you’ll have problems. As long as you really intend to come back at some point, it’s fine.”

Jon turned around and stared at Martin. “How long have you known that?”

“Since Elias told us we were trapped there?”

“My God, that was…” Jon rubbed his temple with his free hand. “Why didn’t you say anything? And please don’t say ‘it never really came up.’”

Martin actually smiled at that. “Honestly, Jon, I assumed you knew. I mean, you were away for ages, and I know Basira kept going off on…excursions. She might not have been gone long, but I just…I thought you’d figured it out. Especially when nothing really happened to us in Scotland.”

Jon hadn’t thought about that, either. But yes, at the time they had meant to go back to the Institute eventually, hadn’t they? Or maybe the Eye had let them go because it knew what Jonah was plotting. Either way, Martin was right, he really ought to have figured that out sooner.

He sighed, turning back to his meal prep. “I can, as we have established, be a bit oblivious at times.”

Sasha gave an overly-dramatic gasp. “You? Never.”

“Oh, shut up,” Past Jon grumbled.

Tim snickered. “Hey, does that mean you two have to come back to the Institute, too?”

“That’s…more complicated.” Jon scraped the contents of the cutting board into the pot. “I’m bound closely enough to the Eye that I’m not…dependent on the Institute, I don’t think? As long as I’m taking statements, feeding the Eye, I’m fine. I believe. And Martin is cut off from the Eye entirely. But it’s a rather moot point, as we intend to move into the tunnels beneath the Institute anyway.”

“You can’t seriously be planning to do that,” Tim protested. “Come on, they can’t be comfortable—”

“They aren’t. But that’s not the point, Tim.” Jon sighed and reached for the spices he’d selected. “We are putting you in very real danger by being here. Besides, we’re not in a position to assist like we would be if we were closer to the Institute. I don’t particularly like them, but it’s the best option for everyone.”

Tim reached past Jon to get plates out of the cupboard, his expression mulish. Jon braced himself for whatever arguments Tim might throw his way and resolutely shut his mind against prying for it, but before he could say anything, Past Martin came up and put a hand on Tim’s shoulder.

“You can’t fix everything, Tim,” he said quietly. “And I know that’s rich, coming from me, but…we have to trust them. It’s not like we won’t ever see them again if they’re not living under your roof.”

Tim’s shoulders slumped. Jon caught his eye and offered him a smile. “It’s certainly no reflection on you, Tim. It’s just…we need to do this. I desperately need you to trust us.”

“I can give you that.” Tim managed a smile in reply, then turned to set the table. “You’re not planning to move in tonight, though, right?”

Jon was about to answer, then froze as a rumble of thunder sounded from outside. It was low and gentle, but the sound sent a shudder of horror running down his spine that he couldn’t explain. He had to stand, perfectly still, until the sound stopped.

“No,” he said as soon as he felt able. “Not tonight.”

He went back to what he was doing, or tried to, but there was obviously a storm building, and the next peal of thunder brought his breath up short. The spoon slipped out of his hand and into the pot.

“Are you okay?” Sasha’s voice seemed to be coming from a long way away.

“Fine,” Jon lied automatically. Really, this was ridiculous. There was no reason for this. Thunderstorms had never bothered him before; why were they suddenly an issue now? He retrieved the spoon and returned to cooking.

The others shifted the discussion to the logistics of smuggling Jon and Martin into the Institute and the tunnels beneath them without being spotted. Since Martin was already explaining about the other entrances, Jon didn’t feel the need to jump in. They would still need to figure out which entrance to use, or find one in the first place, and how to get there surreptitiously, but at least there were options beyond “hope to avoid the cameras mounted around the Institute when sneaking into the Archives and subsequently into the tunnels”. That would be the fastest way to tip Jonah off that something was going on.

Another roll of thunder sounded from almost directly overhead—not a sharp crack, but a long, rumbling bass growl. Jon felt it to his core, and he gasped, leaning over to catch himself against the counter. Suddenly he was in the spare room in the cabin in Scotland, the words being torn from his throat against his will: I…OPEN…THE DOOR!

“Whoa!” someone shouted.

“Shit, that’s—how is he—” someone else stammered.

“Get his hand off the burner!”

“Jon! Jon, it’s okay, I’m here, I’m here.”

Something brushed against him, and he jerked away, but then a hand wrapped around his arm and tugged him away from the counter, and then someone was wrapping an arm around his shoulders and pulling him close. There was a confused babble of voices around him, but Jon couldn’t focus on it, couldn’t focus on anything but the thunder and the static filling his mind and the fact that for some reason his hand hurt, why did his hand hurt…

“Jon,” the voice said again in his ear, and it was Martin’s voice, he sounded upset, he sounded scared, and Jon couldn’t let him be scared but didn’t know how to fix it, so he looked up desperately and saw Martin’s face close to his. “Come on, let’s go in the other room, it’s okay. Come on, I’ve got you. It’s okay. It’s okay.”

Jon couldn’t speak, could barely breathe. He just let Martin lead him out of the room they were in and into another, keeping his eyes fixed on Martin the whole time, and then they were sitting on something and Martin pulled Jon into his arms, onto his lap, and wrapped him up securely. One hand came up to cup the back of his head, the other rubbed his back in slow, soothing circles.

“I’m here, Jon,” Martin murmured, his voice low and gentle despite crackling with emotion. “You’re here. We’re both here and we’re safe. We’re in London. The world isn’t ending, Jon. You didn’t end the world. It’s okay. It’s okay.”

How, the small part of Jon that wasn’t numb with terror thought, did Martin always seem to know the right thing to say? It was a ridiculous thought, of course; Martin didn’t always know the right thing to say, any more than Jon did, and they’d had more than a few arguments over one of them saying the wrong thing at the wrong time. But when it was a situation like this, when Jon panicked or got lost in his own head or was hurting, Martin always seemed to come up with the right words. Jon fisted his hands into Martin’s shirt and buried his face in his chest, focusing on the heartbeat that always soothed him when things got too bad. One of his hands, in a distant way, hurt, but he didn’t let go. He couldn’t.

Of course the world wasn’t ending. It couldn’t be. How could the world end with Martin there? That was just ridiculous. If the world ended, he’d be all alone.

“You’re not alone, Jon,” Martin said, and shit, had he said that out loud? “I’m here. I will always be here. I won’t ever leave you. I promise. I’m here. I’m here.”

“You’re here,” Jon whispered. The words felt raw in his throat, but it felt good to say them. He whispered them again and again, and Martin whispered them back to him. They passed the words back and forth, you’re here, I’m here, you’re here, and slowly, slowly, Jon felt the terror recede.

The storm didn’t lessen. If anything, it got worse, but oddly, that helped, too. The sharper the thunder got, the calmer Jon grew. A mighty thunderclap rattled the windows, and the power went out, making someone yelp from the other room, but Jon was able to take his first full breath. He slowly eased his grip on Martin’s shirt and sagged against him with a heavy sigh.

“Better?” Martin asked, rubbing his back.

“A little.” Jon tilted his head back and rested his chin on Martin’s chest, looking up at him. There was only the barest amount of light in the room, but it was enough to see the outline of his boyfriend’s face by. “Thank you.”

“Of course.” Martin pressed a light kiss to Jon’s forehead. “How’s your hand?”

“Hmm?” Jon became aware that his hand still hurt a lot. He eased it away from Martin and stared at it. It was red, almost raw, and he could see a couple of blisters on the palm that had miraculously remained intact, despite the grip he’d had on Martin’s shirt. “Oh. I—did I put it on the stove?”

“Apparently. Let me see.”

Jon managed a smile. He turned his hand over, palm up, and laid it in Martin’s. Martin hovered his thumb just over the top of Jon’s palm. “It’s still warm. Hold on, let me go find out what Tim’s got in that medicine cabinet of his.”

“Plenty,” a voice said from the doorway. Jon started, then relaxed when he realized it was his own voice, and that was still weird to hear. He looked up to see Past Jon coming in, a torch in one hand and a small handful of supplies in the other. “I was going to just leave it on the table for you, but…”

“Thank you,” Jon said sincerely. He didn’t leave the comfort of Martin’s embrace, though. The panic had left him a bit shaky and he wasn’t sure he could really sit up on his own, but more than that, he honestly didn’t give a damn if it made him look weak to lean on Martin. That was part of what love was, right?

Past Jon set the things in his hands on the table, then lined them up. “Cool compress, lotion, gauze, bandages. Paracetamol on the end if you need it for the pain. I—do you need a spare hand?”

“We’ve got it, but thank you,” Martin said. He picked up the compress, then pressed it gently to Jon’s hand. It was obvious he’d done this before, in some capacity.

Past Jon nodded and straightened, then hesitated before leaving the room. Awkwardly, he asked, “Can I…are you sure you’re okay? That looked a lot like, well, a panic attack.”

“It was,” Jon said softly. He hesitated, looking up into Martin’s eyes. Even though he knew Martin wasn’t really looking back at him per se, that he couldn’t actually see him, he could feel his attention, and they’d learned in the last few weeks that they knew each other well enough that they could still communicate wordlessly, to an extent. Turning back to his past self, he explained, “It was—the last thunderstorm I remember came up while I was reading…Jonah’s monologue.”

Past Jon flinched. “Ah. Well, I’ll, erm…I’ll leave you to that, then.” He gestured at the supplies and retreated back to the kitchen.

Jon and Martin sat in silence for a long moment. Martin kept applying pressure to the compress on Jon’s hand, his other hand securely supporting it, keeping it elevated. At last, Jon said, “I—I never asked if it was actually storming. That day. If it was…real thunder I heard or if it was just…the impending end of the world.”

“It was. I was on my way back. At first I thought I’d grab an umbrella, but then I thought…I thought I’d just stay downstairs until you finished your statement, then bring you a cup of tea or something. And then…” Martin trailed off and shook his head.

Jon bit his lip. “At least you made it back before…the Door Opened.”

“No, Jon,” Martin said softly. “I didn’t. I was still a good five minutes’ walk from the safe house when it happened.” He tried to laugh. “Ordinarily, anyway. I ran, as soon as I realized…I don’t know that I realized what exactly was going on, but I knew it was bad, and I knew that it was probably coming after you.”

“My God, Martin.” Horror ran through Jon’s body, and he reached out with his free hand to grip Martin’s shirt again.

“Hey, careful, I need room to work.”

“You were outside when—you c-could have been killed. God, I could have lost you and—”

“But you didn’t,” Martin reminded him. He leaned forward and rested his forehead against Jon’s for a moment. “I’m here, Jon. You’re here. We’re both here. We survived the end of the world. We made it. Together.”

Jon took a deep, steadying breath. “Maybe one day it won’t be so hard to remember that.”

“Well, I’ll always be here to remind you.” Martin straightened up and lifted the compress, then checked the heat of his palm and set the compress aside.

Jon glanced at the next item on the table and grimaced. “Of course the next step is lotion.”

“Do you want to do it yourself?” Martin asked. “You’ve got to keep things from drying out, but…I understand if someone else rubbing it in might be a bit much.”

At least that was something Jon had known he had an issue with before. Just not something he’d thought he would ever have to think about. He started to say yes, then shook his head, despite knowing Martin couldn’t see him. “No. No, will—will you do it? Please? I trust you.”

Martin’s face softened. They both knew what Jon was asking for. “Of course, Jon.”

He poured a little bit of the lotion into Jon’s hand. Jon tried hard not to flinch at the feel of it pooling into his cupped palm. Martin replaced the cap and set the bottle back on the table, nearly missing it, then took Jon’s hand and began gently massaging the lotion into it. Jon focused on Martin’s face and tried to regulate his breathing.

“Tell me something,” Martin requested abruptly.

Jon cocked his head, slightly off-balance. “What?”

“Anything. Your favorite play, your earliest childhood memory, your most embarrassing uni story. Anything.”

“O-oh, okay,” Jon said, surprised. He tried to think for a moment. “Ah—I’ve always been fond of The Duchess of Padua.”

Martin smiled encouragingly. “Yeah? I don’t know that one. Tell me about it.”

Jon launched into an explanation of the plot. The more into it he got, the more wildly he gesticulated with the hand Martin wasn’t attending to. Martin listened to Jon ramble the way he always did, with a smile and a look of genuine interest as Jon went on about a topic he knew nothing about and honestly didn’t care all that much about. He’d even told Jon, simultaneously not long ago and an eternity ago, that he’d always hated the theater, yet here he was letting Jon describe in technical detail the plot of a play he’d had no good reason to fall in love with.

“—staged very often, or studied for that matter, but I always thought it was fascinating,” he concluded with a sigh. “I actually rose a bit in a professor’s esteem because I used that one as the basis for our term paper on one of Wilde’s works rather than The Importance of Being Ernest or The Picture of Dorian Gray.”

“Yeah, I know how that goes. Best grade I ever got in school was on a paper I wrote on The Ballad of Reading Gaol.” Martin set something on the coffee table. “How’s that?”

“I—” Jon looked down at his hand. The lights were still out, but his eyes had adjusted, and he could see the stark white bandage looped neatly around his hand, securing the gauze without being too tight. “Oh. You’re done.” He gave his boyfriend a slightly accusing look. “You were distracting me.”

“You were panicking,” Martin told him. He wrapped both arms around Jon again. “I really was listening, though. I love listening to you talk about something you know a lot about. Or even something you’re just pretending you know a lot about.”

“Hey,” Jon protested, but without any real heat. He tucked his head into the crook of Martin’s neck and sighed, curling into him. “Thank you. For taking care of me. For knowing me so well. For being here.”

“Where else would I be?” Martin kissed the crown of his head. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

How many times had they passed those words back and forth, Jon wondered? He could probably Know the exact number, with a little effort, but it didn’t matter, because it wasn’t enough. Not nearly enough. They could say it with every breath they had left from now until the end of time, and it still wouldn’t be enough. Jon had made a vow, kneeling in the remains of what had once been his boss’s office and pressing futilely against the gaping wounds in Martin’s chest, that he would never leave an opportunity to say them unsaid. They didn’t need to say it for each other to know, but it was important to Jon that they did. And while Martin never said as much, Jon knew it reassured him to hear confirmation every once in a while.

They sat in silence for a while, Jon letting Martin’s presence and the secure feel of his embrace soothe away the last of his lingering terror, or at least his lingering immediate terror. The fear would never go away completely. He’d grown to accept that. But at least now it was just the usual hum of background terror that was his everyday life, rather than the sharp, immediate panic of a flashback. Here with Martin, he was as safe as he ever could be.

At last, he sighed. “We should probably go back into the other room before the others eat everything.”

“I’m sure they saved us some,” Martin said. “But sure. You’ll have to get up first.”

“Why?”

“Because you’re sitting on my lap, Jon.”

“Oh. Right. I knew that.” Jon managed to get to his feet. Martin chuckled as he stood, too.

Tim had lit several candles and was apparently mid-debate with Sasha over whether or not he should add another one to the mix. Past Jon rolled his eyes in Jon and Martin’s direction when they came in. “Please make them shut up.”

“Impossible, I’m afraid. They’re both breathing,” Jon said dryly. Tim snorted and Sasha stuck her tongue out at him. “It smells good in here. Have you been baking?”

“Electric oven. Jon barely finished cooking dinner before the power went out. It’s the candles,” Tim admitted. “One of the kids in the neighborhood keeps selling them to raise money for school trips and the like, and I’m apparently one of his best customers.”

“Well, if you add any more, the smell might be overpowering. Or you might set off your smoke detector.”

“Point. Okay, then, sit down and eat. We saved you a couple plates.”

Jon didn’t have to look at Martin to see the I-told-you-so look on his face.

As they ate, Sasha slid a piece of paper towards him, covered in neat, still-unfamiliar handwriting that Jon presumed to be hers. “Can you think of anything on here we missed?”

The lighting wasn’t really adequate to read the paper clearly, and Jon was tired, despite Martin’s presence and support; the panic attack had drained him a bit more than he’d expected. He was going to need something stronger than a couple of old statements to recover,  but he had no idea how to go out and get it. It all combined to make him forget himself a little. He reached out with the Eye rather than his own eyes to skim the paper. Sleeping mats, camp stoved, tinned food (ANYTHING but peaches)…

“What’s all this?” he asked, picking it up to see a bit better.

“Supplies,” Past Jon said brusquely. “You didn’t think we’d make you stay in those tunnels without some way of being comfortable, did you?”

Actually, Jon hadn’t thought about it. He picked up the list and studied it more closely, with his actual vision this time. It seemed like a fairly comprehensive list. There were a few things on it that he recognized as bearing his boyfriend’s hallmark, unexpected items that nevertheless might, in certain circumstances, make a huge difference. He angled the paper towards Martin. “Anything you have to add?”

Martin raised an eyebrow. “Unless that’s written in Braille, I don’t think I’m going to be of much use there.”

“Oh. Right.” Jon was thankful that the combination of his complexion and the low light in the room would probably hide his blush from anyone whose eyes still functioned.

Tim looked back and forth between the two Martins. “Wait, you know Braille?”

Past Martin ducked his head, looking mortified. Martin, however, simply nodded slowly. “Mum had one of those pill keepers, you know the ones. I taught myself Braille so I could know which pills to get ready for her without turning on the light before she was ready to be awake.”

The look on both Tim and Past Jon’s faces made Jon slightly glad, and also slightly disappointed, that Martin’s mother was dead. Then he remembered that she’d died while he was in his coma, so she was currently still alive in a nursing home in Devon refusing her son’s visits but accepting, even demanding, his money, and it was very difficult for him to swallow his own anger and uncharitable thoughts. He wasn’t a monster and couldn’t act like one, no matter how good his motives seemed.

Instead, he covered the moment by reading the list aloud to Martin. Martin listened and nodded and smiled when Jon hit the last item on the list. “I don’t think you need to worry about a tape recorder, honestly. They turn up on their own.”

“So I’ve noticed,” Tim said dryly. “But you said the tunnels blocked stuff at times. I figured, just in case…”

“Might be a comfort,” Past Martin suggested softly. It was the first thing he’d said since Jon and Martin had come into the kitchen.

“The tunnels don’t stop the recorders,” Jon said. “But…thank you. It’s thoughtful of you.”

Sasha nodded and took the list. “We’ll get everything together tomorrow, then, and you can find another entrance to the tunnels.”

“Will you be able to find the Archives?” Tim asked. “Through those tunnels, I mean? They’re a mess, honestly.”

“We’ll manage.” Jon actually wasn’t a hundred percent sure how easy it would be. He’d had a map made at one point, but that was after Leitner had manipulated things for him, and the tunnels were shielded from the Eye, somehow. He’d be lucky not to have to live with the ever-present…fuzziness he’d dealt with when they’d been staying with Georgie and Melanie and their inadvertent cult. But they really and truly didn’t have a choice.

“I suppose if we have to, we could put a—a beacon or something at the foot of the stairs under the trapdoor,” Past Jon said uncertainly.

Tim grinned. It looked slightly diabolical in the flickering candlelight. “Ooh, or one of those electronic gizmos they use in hunting to attract prey.”

“I’m very sure random deer calls would have the opposite effect than luring us to where you want us to go,” Martin said with a smirk. “Have you ever heard those things? They’re terrifying.”

The conversation devolved into a slightly silly discussion of the weirdest animal cries they’d ever heard, and Jon was able to breathe and eat his dinner without too much trouble.

That night, though, curled into bed with Martin, he said quietly, “What if it’s a bad idea? What if being down there…what if I fall apart again? What if it’s like at Salesa’s, but worse?”

“It won’t be,” Martin said. The confidence and assurance in his voice was almost a physical force.

“How can you know that, though?”

Martin ran a hand through Jon’s hair, gently untangling a knot that had probably got there during his panic attack in the living room. “Did you know that if you lose sight in one eye, you only lose something like twenty percent of your overall vision but all of your depth perception?”

“No?” Jon could have known that, if he’d wanted to, obviously, but it wasn’t something he’d ever consciously set out to learn. He also didn’t see how it was relevant.

“I mean, you can sort of train yourself to compensate for the depth perception, but yeah, twenty percent of your vision. Mostly peripheral. It makes it harder to see people coming from that side of things.” Martin’s fingers caught in another knot. “The Beholder really had two eyes overlooking the Apocalypse, Jon. Jonah and you. He saw from the heights and you saw from ground level. He oversaw, and you…experienced. I’d even go so far as to say you were the dominant eye, so to speak. Of course you were weak when you were cut off from it. It’s like a phantom pain. That won’t be an issue now. The Eye isn’t as…strong. You said yourself, you’re still…you, just not quite as…all-powerful?”

“Hopefully I’ve still got enough power to do what needs to be done,” Jon sighed, but Martin’s words were a comfort.

After a pause, Martin added, “And you have me.”

“And I have you,” Jon agreed. “And we can probably get fairly close to the Archives. All right, I know I’m probably worrying unnecessarily. It’s just…” He trailed off, tracing his fingers over the three puckered holes clustered just above Martin’s heart. Jonah had known what he was doing, far too well. “I can’t lose you again, Martin. I can’t. And I’ll never forgive myself if it happens because I wasn’t strong enough.”

Martin covered Jon’s hand with his own. “It won’t. You’re strong enough, Jon. I trust you. And you know I’ll be right there with you the whole time.”

“I know.” Jon snuggled into Martin’s chest, then leaned up to kiss him. “You know I can’t do this without you.”

“I wouldn’t want to see you try.”

Jon yawned and adjusted the covers over the both of them. Martin rolled onto his side and buried his face in Jon’s hair, and Jon sighed with almost-forgotten contentment as he drifted off to sleep, Martin’s heartbeat thudding steadily in his ear.

#ollie writes fanfic #leaves too high to touch (roots too strong to fall) #the magnus archives #tma #jonmartin #ptsd cw #panic attacks #I think we all agree that Jon has issues with lotion #but it occurs to me he probably has thunderstorm issues too

[inevitably-johnlocked]

Hey so I've recently been craving sport themed Johnlock (Excluding Rugby because it's kinda overused though 100% understandable). Either one could be doing the sport I just wanted something sporty. Preferably long and kinda angsty but just sporty will do-

Hi Nonny!

Sure! You’re in luck because I haven’t really read any Rugby John, LOL. You’re getting all the sports AUs I have :) I thought I did this list already but apparently not hahah :P Here you are!

SPORTS

See also: 

Alexx’s Sports AU List

YorkiePug’s Sports AU List

Summit Fever by J_Baillier (M, 78,802 w., 18 Ch. || Mountain Climber AU || POV John, Angst, Tragedy, Suicidal Ideation, The Himalayas, Mountain Guide / Doctor John, Mount Climber Sherlock, Loneliness, Drama, Suspense, Slow Burn, Injured Sherlock / Sherlock Whump, Pining John) – After graduating from medical school, John Watson followed his heart to the Himalayas. Ten years later, he's a haunted cynic working for his ex-lover's trekking and mountaineering company. Will leading an expedition to Annapurna I—the most lethal of all the world's highest mountains—shake John out of his reverie, and who is the mystery client added to the group at the last minute?

Thermocline by J_Baillier (M, 83,557 w., 14 Ch. || Scuba Diving AU || Adventure, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Marine Archaeology, Asexual Sherlock, Horny John, Relationship Drama, Technical/Scuba/Wreck Diving, Slow Burn, Underwater /  Medical Peril, Doctor John, Hurt Sherlock, Anxious Sherlock, John POV, Protective John, Body Appreciation) – John "Five Oceans" Watson — technical dive instructor, dive accident analyst and weapon of mass seduction — meets recluse professor of maritime archaeology Holmes. As they head out to a remote archipelago off the coast of Guatemala to study and film its shipwrecks for a documentary, will sparks fly or fizzle out?

Uphill by scullyseviltwin (E, 84,945 w., 18 Ch. || Olympics AU || Sherlock POV, Skier!Sherlock / Medic!John, Rivalry, 2014 Olympics, Happy Ending) – Sherlock Holmes is striving for gold in this, his fourth and final Olympics as a downhill Alpine racer.

Eyes Up, Heels Down by CodenameMeretricious (E, 107,845 w., 43 Ch. || Sports Equestrian AU || Fluff, Angst, Humour, Rider!Sherlock, Groomer!John, Show Jumping, Slow Burn, Happy Ending) – Sherlock is a top eventing rider currently training at Baker Farms. John is the new groom who's been told to steer clear of the surly rider and his horses. Part 1 of Baker Farms

A Study in Winning by Jupiter_Ash (E, 106,658 w., 11 Ch. || Tennis AU || John POV, Dirty Talk, Mutual Pining, Misunderstandings, Happy Ending, Sherlock Speaks French, Switchlock, Wimbledon) – John and Sherlock are professional tennis players and it’s Wimbledon. One is a broken almost was at the end of his career, the other an arrogant rising star tipped for greatness. It should have been a straightforward tournament. It really should have been. How were they to know that a chance encounter would change everything? Part 1 of Tennis

The Bang and the Clatter by earlgreytea68 (M, 137,049 w., 37 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || Baseball AU || Slow Burn / Dev. Rel., Possessive/Obsessive Sherlock, Jealous Sherlock, Mutual Pining, Body Appreciation, Depression, Closeted Sexuality, Family, Sherlock’s Mind Palace, Ogling Each Other, Anxious Sherlock, Panic Attack, Drunkenness, Talk of Forever, Big Feelings™) – Sherlock Holmes is a pitcher and John Watson is a catcher. No, no, no, it's a baseball AU. Part 1 of Baseball

Gimme Shelter by SinceWhenDoYouCallMe_John (E, 159,368 w., 21 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || 70′s Surfer AU || Period Typical Homophobia, Hawaii, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Professional Surfers, Gay John / Sherlock, Angst with Happy Ending, John was a Sailor, Misunderstandings, Mutual Pining) – All John Watson wants is the feeling of a freshly waxed surfboard under his feet and the hot California sun baking down onto his back. To finally go pro in the newly formed world of professional surfing and leave the dark memories of his past behind him as he rips across the face of a towering blue barrel. To lounge beside the beach bonfire every evening with an ice cold beer tucked into the cool sand beside him and listen to Pink Floyd and the Doors while the saltwater dries in his sun bleached hair. That's all he wants, that is, until the hot young phenom taking Oahu and the Hawaiian shores by storm steps up next to him in the sand in the second round of the 1976 International Surf Competition. (PUBLISHED AS ‘The Sea Ain’t Mine Alone’)

MARKED FOR LATER

Emblaze Our Hearts by antietamfalls (T, 7,970 w., 1 Ch. || Olympics AU || Skeleton Luger Sherlock, Biathlete John, Drunkenness, Texting, Memory Loss) – A night of celebratory drinking leads to a mystery in the Olympic village. Who is this "SH" person with whom John apparently spent the night, and why did they disappear with John's most prized possession?

On The Fence by BeautifulFiction (T, 13,770 w., 1 Ch. || Fencing, Case Fic, First Kiss) – The murder of the King's College fencing champion leads to revelations about Sherlock's past. Will it be the point that tips them from friends to lovers, or will they remain on the fence? (sorry, not an AU, but since this is a new story, I want to promote it, LOL.)

A Hooligans’ Game Played By Gentlemen by scullyseviltwin (E, 15,213 w., 1 Ch. || Rugby AU || First Time, Rugby as Foreplay, Porn with Lots of Plot) – In which John wants to get back in shape, does so, joins a rugby league and has sex with Sherlock Holmes. In that order.

Forces of Nature by Ewebie (E, 18,369 w., 1 Ch. || Unilock || Rugby Captain John, Hammock Sex, Bad Jokes) – Sherlock watched as the man pushed himself out of the water and onto the floating dock constantly anchored in the middle of the lake. Oh. He was… He was quite tanned. Broad shoulders sloped into a narrow, muscular waist and tapered hips that disappeared into the navy swim trunks. Somehow the breadth of the shoulders made the thighs and legs that appeared out of the bottom of the trunks look delicate. Tanned in their own right and powerful, but oddly proportionate to the shorter stature the man seemed to possess. Sherlock watched the water run off of him, down his back, tracing a path along his spine and through the pleasing fossae lumbales laterales and lumbar lordosis into the waistband of the trunks. Sherlock swallowed. Shit.

Sticking the Landing by SweetMandolins (M, 44,826 w. 17 Ch. || Olympics AU || Gymnast John, Ballet Dancer Sherlock, Rhythmic Gymnastics, Falling in Love, Fluff, Mutual Pining, Bisexual John, Muscular John, Humour, Jealous John, Side Mystrade) – John Watson, Captain of Team GB’s gymnastics squad is confident and primed for his third and final Olympics. Disappointed in London with a shoulder injury putting paid to his Olympic dream, can he secure an Olympic gold finish before retirement? Meanwhile, Sherlock Holmes has other problems. Men’s Rhythmic Gymnastics is the newest Olympic sport, but a series of peculiar accidents both on and off the floor have taken out some of the competitors. Does something more sinister lurk under the spangles and spandex? Can Sherlock solve the mystery in time to deliver a flawless ball routine? And does something more valuable than medals await the boys in Rio?

Fly Very High by yalublyutebya (E, 46,533 w., 31 Ch. || Formula One / Car Racing AU || Rivalry, Permanent Injury, Hate Sex, Angry Sex) – John Watson was born to be a racing driver, and even a crash isn't enough to keep him out of a car for long. But coming back is not that easy, especially when he meets his new teammate, Sherlock Holmes. Part 2 of the Formula One AU series

Working on the Edges by earlgreytea68 (M, 56,089 w., 16 Ch. || Olympics AU || Hockey Player John, Ice Skater Sherlock) – No matter where you put Sherlock and John, they click. Including the Winter Olympics.

Full Court Press by MissDavis (E, 126,123 w. || College Basketball AU || Unilock, Masturbation, Homophobia, First Kiss / Time, Oral/Anal, Coming Out, Switchlock, Blowjobs) – Sherlock Holmes has accepted a scholarship to play basketball at the College of St. Bartholomew's. He expects to be their star player and turn the team's losing record around. He does not expect to fall in love with the team's captain, a certain scrappy point guard named John Watson. Or: Sherlock is the team's best shooter. John is the team's best ball-handler.

Boyfriend Material by PoppyAlexander (E, 151,282 w., 58 Ch. || American Hockey AU || Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Closeted John, POV John, Pining, Casual Sex / Hook Ups, Rom-Com) – Boston Brawlers' team captain John Watson longs for two things: a championship before he retires, and a boyfriend. Assigned to room with goaltender Sherlock Holmes--known around the league as both a genius and a "weird dude"– on Brawlers' roadtrips, John discovers the things they have in common that lead to an easy friendship and a convenient arrangement.

Slipstream by khorazir (M, 173,186+ w., 14/25 Ch. || WIP || Tour de France / Sports Cycling AU || Room Sharing, Cycling Injuries, Discussions of Drugs/Doping, Awkward Romance, Hurt/Comfort, Bickering, Case Fic, Strangers to Friends to Lovers, Internalized Homophobia, Mutual Pining, Bed Sharing, Jealousy) –It’s going to be the last Tour de France for professional cyclist John Watson. Despite the hardships of cycling more than 3000 kilometres in three weeks, in blistering heat and torrential rain, over dangerous cobblestones in northern France and the mountains of the Alps and the Pyrenees, battling thirst, hunger, injury and exhaustion, not to mention bitchy rivals, doping allegations, and the ever scoop-hungry press, he is going to enjoy the ride, damn it. That’s what John keeps telling himself – until he meets his new teammate, Sherlock Holmes, who adds a whole new list of problems as well as an extra dose of excitement to John’s life.

Red Lights Out by days_of_storm (E, 333,458 w., 103 Ch. || Formula One / Car Racing AU || Mechanic John, Driver Sherlock, UST, Friendship, Pre-Slash, Romance, Perfect Cooperation, Accidents, Manipulation, Slow Burn) – John Watson is an overqualified mechanic and former rally driver who works for McLaren. Silverstone GP is impending when he meets Sherlock Holmes, a prodigy driver whom nobody takes seriously, except for McLaren boss Greg Lestrade.

#steph replies #johnlock fic recs #sports au #my fic recs #Anonymous #fic rec sunday

[smile-hotch]

Vibe - Aaron Hotchner

hello and welcome to this kind of different blurb for Aaron. it is inspired by 123456 by Fitz and the Tantrums.

warnings: age gap between reader and Aaron

word count: 1,944

After a long case, the team was penned up in Los Angeles for another full day due to the weather and jet not being able to take off.  It was thundering and raining outside, something that made you want to curl up in the hotel and watch a few movies for the night, but a few members of the group had convinced the rest to go out clubbing in the weather.  

There was a young-crowd club across the street from the hotel that everyone had agreed upon, solely on location, and you thought it would be a good chance to get a few drinks and unwind.  

You wore a sleeveless, silky, red top you normally would wear under a suit jacket.  It was cut rather low, and was almost inappropriate for work, but it was one of your favorites.  It made you feel sexy.  You wore a pair of black tight jeans with it, a pair you always packed with your go-bag for cases like this, and you shrugged on your rain jacket over yourself quickly, hiding yourself. 

You met the team in the lobby, and as you waited for Emily and Spencer, you ordered a drink at the hotel bar.  Derek, Dave, Aaron, and JJ watched you with an amused look on their face.  You looked up as you sipped it, realizing they were watching you.  “What,” you laughed into your drink, “I am pre-gaming.” 

JJ laughed then, leaning against the bar.  “What a good idea,” she told you.  She was about to order a drink, but Derek spoke then. 

“Better finish that quick, (Y/N), here comes Emily and Spencer, and I am not waiting any more for you all.  There are ladies waiting on me,” he said smugly and stood straight.  His hands were in his pockets, and in all honest, he looked rather attractive tonight, but you never felt that way about Derek.

Again, you laughed, and tilted the brown drink back quickly, finish it at one shot.  You made a face but smiled after.  “Ready,” you commented and quickly dug in the pocket of your raincoat, paying the bartender and leaving a tip.  

“Are you already drinking?”  Emily asked with a laugh.  She wore a long sleeve top, one that was tight to her skin, and jeans much like your own. 

“Pre-gaming,” Dave answered for you, causing the group to laugh at your expense.  It didn’t really bother you.  You were proud of who you were, and it took a lot for you to get embarrassed.

You giggled, feeling heat in your chest from the alcohol already consumed as the team began walking to the door.  You were such a lightweight.  You fell into pace with Aaron, observing the plain black button down he wore and black slacks.  “You look nice,” you told him quietly, so only he would hear.  It was true, he did look nice, but to you, it was absolutely alluring.  This was dressed down for him, and you were sure it was the most casual thing he had in his bag, other than pajamas, but it was perfect.

He raised an eyebrow to you, but smiled.  “Thank you,” he said and glanced at your outfit.  He remained quiet then, obviously curious as to what you were wearing under your raincoat.  

You and Aaron always had an odd relationship.  It wasn’t quite what you would classify as flirty, but it was as close as you could get with flirty with your boss.  You always found him to be oddly attractive, with his mysterious-like personality  and lingering eyes on you.  There was something there, you knew it, and you just had to figure out how to get it out of him. 

As you got to know him more and more, the two of you became extremely close.  In fact, you met Jack on a couple of occasions, and you typically went to Aaron when you were frustrated or had any issues whatsoever.  He was always there for you, and you were always there for him.

The group rushed across the street, only getting a little wet, other than you, with your raincoat.  When you entered the club, a bouncer at the door took your coat as you shrugged it off, revealing your low-cut shirt.  You felt eyes on you, from members of your team and others at the bar.  

“Damn, (Y/N),” Emily commented as you threw your hair over your shoulder, laughing.  She eyed you up and down dramatically, causing a chorus of laughs to sound around you.  You spun showing yourself off, adding to the laughs.

Derek threw an arm over you, scanning the bar.  “We are going to have to fight the men off you tonight, aren’t we?”  He teased as he released you then, moving into the crowd.

You giggled, scrunching up your nose slightly.  The group began dispersing, and you leaned towards your boss, shouting over the music.  “Want to get a drink?”  He nodded, the ghost of a smile on his lips, and he followed closely behind you as you weaved through the crowd of young bodies.  They were all you and Spencer’s age, making Aaron one of the older members of the crowd.  Not as old as Dave, though. 

Once you made it to the bar, you ordered two drinks that Aaron couldn’t hear the name of, and you leaned your back to the counter as you surveyed the room.  Derek was already dancing with a group of ladies, making you giggle.  You leaned close to Aaron, your arms brushing, and spoke.  “It looks like Derek is not going back to the hotel alone tonight,” you explained and pointed, causing Aaron to laugh as well.  You looked at him then, as the bartender handed you two drinks then.  You handed one to Aaron and spoke at the same time.  “What do you think?  Are you going home with someone tonight?”  You asked as you raised your eyebrows.  You sipped your drink inconspicuously and watched him closely.  Unconsciously, your eyes raked up and down his body.

Aaron laughed then, a little harder than before, and shook his head.  “I highly doubt that,” he laughed as he, too, took a sip of his drink.

You gave him a wicked look as you took another long drink from the drink.  “You never know,” you told him in a blatantly flirtatious matter.  

He raised an eyebrow, his mind racing with thoughts of what you could possibly mean.  The simply thought of taking you back to his hotel room made his heartbeat quicken.  You were significantly younger than him, and his subordinate.  It would be completely inappropriate, but he wanted more than anything at that moment.  He opened his mouth to say something, but the club roared then as a new song started. “Oh, Aaron, I love this song!  Dance with me!”  You shouted excitedly.

Before he could protest, you took his hand in yours and began pulling him through the crowd.  He took a sip of his drink then, realizing how strong it was, and downed it then.  He needed to loosen up.  He set his glass on a table you passed, and once you got to the center of the dance floor, you began dancing close to Aaron.  

I’m sick of feeling the lows, I want to roll with the highs

Your hips moved perfectly with the music he was unfamiliar with.  Your arms were up, holding your glass in one hand, and your eyes were fluttering shut as you danced.  His mouth ran dry as he watched you, and a hunger for you developed that he didn’t know he was capable of.

Hyped up, ready to go, I got my eyes on the prize

He realized he wasn’t dancing then, and slowly started moving, not to the beat of the music.  You laughed at this as he took your drink and finished it as well.  “I’m too old for this,” he laughed gently and set the glass on a nearby table.  

“Good thing I like older men, then,” you said with wild eyes and placed your hands on his shoulders, making him move with you.

Shout it out, shout it out, 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, Do you feel the vibe yet?

Your body got closer and closer, your hands remained on his shoulders, until your bodies were brushing against each other.  “If you aren’t okay with this, I understand.  Just say the word,” you told him in a serious voice as you leaned in close to his ear, so he could hear.

Aaron swallowed hard.  “I am too okay with this,” he admitted huskily.  Song after song changed, and about an hour later, you and Aaron were both sweating but smiling.  

Finally, as the song was changing, you took his hand and led him back towards the bar.  Still shouting over the music, you turned to him.  “Do you want to get out of here?”  You asked with an odd look in your eyes that he didn’t quite recognize. 

Aaron nodded and allowed you lead him to the door, stopping to get your coat from the bouncer, and then stepped out into the chilly rain.  The music still bumped in the background, but was mostly muffled.  “It was so hot in there,” you half-panted as you and Aaron waited for cars to stop and let you cross the road.  

Again, he nodded, but smirked lightly.  “You seem to go to clubs often,” he commented.  The two of you crossed the road as you laughed.

“I used to,” you answered as you shook your wet hair out and entered the lobby of the hotel.  “Not so much anymore.  That was the first time I’ve been in a while.  I actually wanted to stay in tonight and watch a few movies,” you added as you walked towards the elevators.  Neither of you spoke about where you were going, but still walked in sync. 

He hummed.  “I didn’t realize you could move like that.”

You blushed as you stepped onto the elevator.  You had calmed down from when you were in the club, and your cheeks felt hot at the thought of how close you were with Aaron, your superior.  “I’m sorry, I was just vibing.  I got pretty carried away,” you apologized as you looked down at the coat you had in your hands.

Aaron smiled gently as the elevator doors opened.  You both paused just outside of them and stared at each other.  Aaron checked his watch.  “It’s not too late to start watching movies, like you wanted to.  If you still want to,” he observed and put his hands in his pockets. 

You, too, glanced at the dainty watch on your wrist.  “I suppose not,” you agreed and began walking towards your door.  He was obviously dismissing you.  

“I must have been unclear,” Aaron started as he followed close on your heels, causing you to turn in confusion.  “Do you want to come in?”  He asked and nodded to his own door.  “And watch a movie?”  He asked sheepishly and refused to break eye contact with you.  You had never seen Aaron like this.  So unsure of himself, and worried about what you would say.  

Your cheeks felt warmer than ever, and you fought a smile from breaking out too wide on your face.  “That sounds great, actually,” you admitted and held your hand out.  You let him lead you this time, into his hotel room.  

Do you feel the vibe yet?

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