#greenwich clock

[moonwatchuniverse]

Longines Heritage in Greenwich - London A big Thank You & shout-out to the Longines Heritage team to invite me to a special visit to the Maritime Museum followed by a dinner in Christopher Wren's octagon room of the Royal Observatory Greenwich in London. A unique opportunity to be alone with the historic John Harrison maritime longitude clocks, which I photographed from all angles. (Photos: MoonwatchUniverse)

[lymphomalass]

How do you find the Mondays after the clocks change from British Summer Time to Greenwich Mean Time in the Autumn, and back again in the Spring…? ⏰

Is it just me or does it leave anyone else feeling a bit “out of sync”…?

To be honest, my Monday’s felt a bit fraught today, but that might be the two medical and one optician’s appointment Steve and I have fitted in, along with delivering a framed piece of original art and soaking the fruit for two Christmas cakes squeezed between… Tomorrow, I just want to paint, but I suspect there’ll be a bit of baking too…!

Anyway, I just want to ask if you’ve received my newsletter yesterday...? If not, here's the link:

…and it’s the first place I show some of my new art, and my monthly how-to creativity video!

If you haven't yet signed up to keep in touch once a month, and you do so here, you might win a little giveaway.... Just tap here:

Thanks! Sam aka LymphomaLass xx

[redscharlach]

Clocks going forward or back? No thanks

Clocks going sideways? YES PLEASE

[wolfephoto]

University of Greenwich - Old Royal Naval College by John Wolfe Via Flickr: Greenwich - London - 2023

[charlesoberonn]

Alien: So your calendar was created by this guy Caesar in...

Human: Rome.

Alien: And later updated to its current form by this guy Gregory in...

Human: Also Rome.

Alien: And your international date line passes opposite...

Human: Greenwich, England.

Alien: Why?

Human: Well, they used to have a really good clock...

[scotianostra]

January 29th 1848 saw the first adoption of GMT by Scotland. The subject has been the source of controversy ever since.

The change had broadly taken place south of the Border from September the previous year with those in Edinburgh living 12 and-a-half minutes behind the new standard time as a result.

Some people in those days were still using sundials to tell the time, Scottish inventor Alexander Bain had only given the world the first electric clock 7 years previously. Sundials were criticised for being poorly made and set by "incompetents" among those who supported the move to GMT in the 1840s.

The discrepancy grew the further west you moved, with the time in Glasgow some 17 minutes behind GMT. In Ayr the time difference was 18-and-a-half minutes with it rising to 19 minutes in the harbour town of Greenock.

All these lapses were ironed out over night on January 29 1848, but the move wasn’t without controversy as some resisted the move away from local time.

Sometimes referred to as natural time, it had long been determined by sun dials and observatories and later by charts and tables which outlined the differences between GMT and local time at various locations across the country.

But the need for a standard time measurement was broadly agreed upon given the surge in the number of rail services and passengers with different local times causing confusion, missed trains and even accidents as trains battled for clearance on single tracks.

An editorial in The Scotsman on Saturday, January 28, 1848, said: “It is a mistake to think that in the country generally the change will be felt as a grievance in any degree.

“Probably nine-tenths of those who have clocks and watches believe that their local time is the same with Greenwich time, and will be greatly surprise to learn that the two are not identical.

“Even if they wished to keep local time, they want the means.

“Observatories are only found in two or three of our Scottish towns.

“As for the sundials in use, their number is small, most of them, too, are made by incompetent persons and even when correctly constructed, the task of putting them up and adjusting them to the meridian is generally left to an ignorant mason, who perhaps takes the mid-day hour from the watch in his fob.”

The editorial added: “For the sake of convenience, we sacrifice a few minutes and keep this artificial time in preference to sundial time, which some call natural time, and if the same convenience counsels us to sacrifice a few minutes in order to keep one uniform time over the whole country, why should it not be done!”

Mariners had long observed Greenwich Mean Time and kept at least one chronometer set to calculate their longitude from the Greenwich meridian, which was considered to have a longitude of zero degrees.

The move to enforce it as the common time measurement was made by the Railway Clearing House in September 1847.

Some rail companies had printed GMT timetables much sooner. The Great Western Railway deployed the standard time in 1840 given that passengers on its service between London to Bristol, then the biggest trading port with the United States, faced a time difference of 22 minutes between its departure and arrival point.

Rory McEvoy, curator of horology at the Royal Observatory Greenwich, said travel watches of the day had two sets of hands, one gold and one blue steel, to help measure changes in local time during a journey.

Maps also depicted towns with had adopted GMT and those which had not, he added.

There was information out there for determine the local time difference so they would know the offset to apply to GMT before the telegraphic distribution of time.

Mr McEvoy said different towns and cities in Scotland would have had their own time differences before adoption of GMT.

Old local time measurements show that Edinburgh was four-and-a-half minutes ahead of that in Glasgow, for example.

Mr McEvoy added: “I think it is fair to say there was no real concept of these differences at the time. It was when communication began to expand quite rapidly that it became f an issue. I think generally, you would be quite happy that the time of day was your local time.”

Pics are the station clock at Glasgow Central in the early 1880s and the sundial at Stonehaven Harbour, Aberdeenshire.

[lost-carcosa]

Disinformation.

That's clearly Avebury, not Stonehenge.

[ssweetleaf]

graphic nature.

summary: you’re a sex worker, and ray finds you selling your body for time, something he’s told you he doesn’t want you doing again.

raymond leon x fem!reader

includes: SMUT 18+, shit ending be warned, handcuffs, slapping, ray’s in love but he just can’t show it :((

a/n: so this is kinda weird, i don’t know where this came from, i didn’t have the energy to really finish it, so if it seems rushed, that’s because it is lol, maybe I’ll write a part 2 if i feel like it.

˖ ࣪⭑

With not a lot of time on your hands, there was a big reason why you did what you did. And however frowned upon your job description was, it kept you alive, kept you fed— kept you with a healthy wad of time on your wrist.

Roaming in the wealthy streets of New Greenwich offered you countless men to spend the night with, prostituting yourself in exchange for a hefty fee, a couple weeks, hell, maybe months worth of time clocked onto your watch once you were done.

So, like any other night, you waited, clad in a pretty dress and pantyhose, garters showing, all lacey and cute— in no time a patron drove up beside you, window down and sleeves rolled up, making sure the ticking of his years were on show.

You were about to bend down, lean against the door of his car, give him a few of your usual lines, a teasing smile playing on your lips while he offered to take you back to a hotel suite.

But not today, it seemed.

“Can’t begin to count how many times I’ve found you doin’ this, y/n,” the familiar voice sighed mockingly, and you turned to find him, Ray, the most well-known time keeper of the area, and your most loyal customer. “Just can’t seem to get it in that dumb brain of yours that what you’re doing is illegal.”

You turned back to the man in front of you, only to soon have him realise who had caught you, speeding off down the highway in his stupidly flash car, leaving the timekeeper to chuckle from behind you, the leather of his coat squeaking when he decided to cross his arms.

“What’re you gonna do, Ray?” You rolled your eyes, stepping closer towards him as if trying to intimate him in some way, though your attempts were futile. “You gonna arrest me?”

He smirked, cockily running his tongue along his teeth, smacking his lips before giving you a pout, one to mock you, to make you feel small.

“Y’know, sweetheart, maybe I will.” He hummed, slowly moving in closer, faces merely centimetres apart, mouth so mind-numbingly close to yours, your eyes staring dumbly at his pretty lips, all plump and glistening from running his tongue along—

With a sudden harshness, he spun you around, bending you over and pressing you firmly against the hood of his car. Your cheek smooshed against it while he took both of your wrists and pinned them behind your back, the jingle of handcuffs rang through your ears when he opened them up, slipping them over your wrists before tightening them with a sharp click on each side.

The metal dug into the flesh of your wrists, biting raw rings around them when you tugged and squirmed.

“You-” you started, struggling from under his gaze, one of his palms pressed to the space between your shoulders, keeping you in place. “You can’t do this, Raymond!”

Ray chuckled, pressing closer towards you, leaning his face against your cheek when he hovered over your back.

“I’m a timekeeper, honey,” he cooed mockingly, tip of his tongue grazing the shell of your ear and it caused a shiver to run along the length of your spine. “I can do whatever the fuck I want.”

You whined, huffing out a breath, tugging and tugging at your restraints as if somehow they’d just slip from your wrists with no problem.

“Besides, I thought I told you,” he ran his tongue along his lips, smacking his spit, breath fanning along your neck. “Only I get to touch you, you’re my whore and you work for me, you understand?”

You stayed silent.

He huffed out a breath, disappointed in your lack of participation, spinning you around so your back was against the hood instead, bringing his big palm up to your cheek in a sharp, searing smack, heavy and painful enough to jolt your head to one side.

You whimpered at the sting, feeling your cheek bloom with the welt, the warmth of his handprint still heavy on your skin.

“Let me say this nice and slow for you, sweetheart— I know you’re just too stupid to understand,” he clutched at your throat, fingers closing against the sides of your throat, squeezing almost mind-numbingly. “I said. Do. You. Understand?”

He punctuated his speech with little squeezes to your throat, your breathing laboured from the constriction, wanting so desperately to claw at his wrists, but those stupid handcuffs got in the way.

“Yes,” you choked out, nodding as best as you could, lashes fluttering from the lack of oxygen. “I-I understand, Ray.”

“Good girl,” he pouted, cooing at you mockingly and shaking your head from side to side. “wasn’t so hard was it, dumb girl?”

From the position you were in, you could get a good look at him. You had missed him- missed this, you hadn’t seen him for a while, his mind occupied on chasing down a certain Will Salas, of course he had made you promise to stay loyal, to not seek any men to take you home, to accept any form of touch that wasn’t his, but how were you supposed to agree? Your time was ticking, you couldn’t afford to mope around and wait for him, you had to work, to seek wealthy men and drain them of their time in exchange for sex.

“Missed you,” you spoke, barely above a whisper, eyes flitting over his form watching his jaw clench and nostrils flare. He couldn’t meet your stare.

“M’takin’ you home,” he muttered, pushing you by the shoulders and swinging the passenger door open.

“Will you at least take these cuffs off?” You pouted, turning your head to bat your lashes at him from over your shoulder. His lip quirked up in a smirk, sponging an oddly chaste kiss to your cheek before pressing his mouth against the shell of your ear. Your breath hitched.

“Not a chance.”

-

Raymond drove you to his apartment, it wasn’t the first time you had seen the place, in fact you had become quite familiar with it— little glimpses of Ray’s life littered the space, his taste somewhat minimalistic, but oddly homely.

He pressed you against his front door once it clicked closed, hands still awkwardly positioned and you struggled in a feeble attempt to break free from your restraint.

Ray’s mouth was on yours in an instant, mostly tongue and teeth, spit trickling down your chin at the rough attack of it all. He cradled your jaw in his hands, suckling your tongue between his lips, groaning at the breathy sighs you emitted.

“All mine,” he murmured against your mouth, pulling away to give your cheek a slap, a silver string of spit still connecting your mouths together. “Say it. Say you’re mine.”

Your tongue swiped over your swollen lips, eyes hooded, completely submerged in the will to submit.

“M’yours,” you whimpered. He slapped you once more and your cheek bloomed with heat.

“Again, say it again.”

“M’yours, Ray—” you leaned forward to nudge your nose against his. “all yours.”

He sighed, the sound akin to a whimper when you uttered his name, his lashes fluttered and he pressed his pelvis firmly against your belly.

He was hard. So fucking hard, and your mouth watered, longing for it to be in your mouth, the taste of his pre-cum on your tongue, just lapping and suckling for as long as you could handle.

“Feel what you do to me, baby,” he groaned, grinding against you, fingers tangling in your hair and his lips on your jaw. “S’all your fault.”

You bit at your lip to suppress a needy moan when he shrugged his leather coat from his shoulders, hands back on you again in an instant.

“Thought I told you to wait for me, sweetheart,” he spoke, brows furrowing and you itched to smooth the crease out with the pad of your thumb. “thought I told you to stop whorin’ around.”

Ray’s hand slipped to your throat, fingers and thumb pressing against the sides of your neck, leaving your head all swirly and light.

You frowned, choking out your words between breaths.

“I don’t have the time to wait for you.”

He was selfish, too much of a coward to take care of you and settle down with you instead of fucking promises out of your mouth, having you say you’re his when he wasn’t even yours.

It frustrated you.

“Oh, it’s time you want?” He chuckled dryly, “gee, honey, thought I wasn’t just one of your customers.”

He lifted his sleeve, the seconds on his arm ticking downward— tickticktick, until he reached behind you and pressed his wrist against your own.

The seconds, minutes, hours all went down in a blur, transferring to your time, adding on a hefty amount.

You gasped, trying to push him away as his life span quickly became merely hours.

“Raymond-” you struggled in his grip. “Raymond, stop it!”

He pulled away, his clock down to an hour, that was all. Fifty-nine minutes and fifty-seven seconds, fifty-six, fifty-five…

“See,” he breathed, pushing your hair to tuck behind your ear, “now you have all the time in the world.”

[kvetchlandia]

David Gahr Suze Rotolo at the Newport Folk Festival, Newport, Rhode Island 1963

“Time heals, after all- although the clock that marks that kind of time has no hands.” Suze Rotolo, "A Freewheeling Time: A Memoir of Greenwich Village in the 60s" 2008

[notheroicnotromantic]

la plus belle des malédictions (wip wednesday edition)

the best of all curses 

good morning, happy new year and happy first wip wednesday of 2025 <3

roughly 4,5k of a 30k WIP

sequel to la pire de bénédictions

fluff, domestic landoscar, rookie!lando living his best life with his cute boyfriend, clock the angst set up? 👀 oh SMUT! almost forget about that one 😩

barely edited (sorry)

hope you enjoy <3 “Lando, would it kill you to just do me the favour and go with this, please?”  “Okay, shutting up now,” Lando raises his head in a non-threatening stance. “I’m all yours.” Oscar continues to take them through the park then, until they make it to the Greenwich Observatory. Lando can’t help but smile at Oscar. “We’re watching stars?”

-

 2026 MIGHT BECOME THE MOST INTERESTING SEASON IN F1 YET – AND HERE’S WHY

In 2025 we saw McLaren’s Oscar Piastri take his first WDC title, while the Constructor’s Championship went to Ferrari. Just the year before Max Verstappen was able to achieve his 4th WDC title while McLaren received their first team championship in 26 years. That’s four different winners in the categories just in the last two years…

That comes down to one simple thing: the margins between the top contending cars are smaller than ever. Naturally, that means there’s a good chance the same will go for the 2026 season, even though there will be different regulations.

Not only that, but we’ve had some of the most promising rookies of the last years join the grid in 2025. There’s Ferrari reserve driver Oliver Bearman, who drove into the point’s multiple times with HAAS, as well as Mercedes’ Andrea Kimi Antonelli, the 8th place finisher of the last season and - who could forget 21-year-old Lando Norris. Finishing 6th in his first season with McLaren, managing a first race win at the final race of the season. 

Of course, there is the argument Norris’ would have achieved his first career win earlier, if the team hadn’t swapped him with Piastri back in Silverstone, but the team decided to prioritize the Australian’s championship bid – a gamble that paid off. 

It’s clear however, that McLaren has two strong drivers in their line-up and if Lando Norris has been doing his homework over winter break, there’s a real chance he’ll be a threat to his teammate this year!

-

January 2026, London, UK 

Lando Norris is shaking in his place by the door, excitedly waiting for his boyfriend to arrive. They’ve been dating for barely more than four weeks, but it somehow feels like he’s always had this. The comfortableness when they’re close, the sweet touches, the way the older will take care of him.

Most days, Lando wonders if he’ll ever stop swooning over every one of Oscar’s small gestures. He hasn’t said it out loud to the other yet, the fact that this is his first serious relationship. It scares him a little, still. Making it obvious how inexperienced he is, compared to his partner. And since their relationship is so new, they weren’t able to spend the holidays together.

Oscar had made his way back to Monaco to get his things, and flown out to Melbourne afterwards, while Lando had taken the drive up to Bristol. Shutting himself away in the Norris’ family home and eating his weight in gingerbread and chocolate. Here’s to hoping Jon will let him smile away the extra pounds on the scale once they return to Woking in a couple of days. 

(The chance of that happening is close to zero, but Lando won’t stop believing until he sees the disappointed frown on the older Brit’s face.)

Now, the younger is waiting for Oscar to arrive in London – Lando wishes desperately he could have picked him up at the airport, but Oscar had pointed out (in this very dry and adorable way of his), that they’re not trying to come out right now. It’s fair, but it made Lando a little sad all the same. Aren’t drivers allowed to be friends; he wondered as he was getting into bed last night. Luckily, any grievance washes away by the perspective of holding Oscar in just a few minutes.

The last few days had been spent trying to clean every single surface in his flat to perfection, rearranging pieces of furniture and trying to do some grocery shopping. Lando even went to the fancy Australian shop on the other side of the city, getting some Tim-Tams, he knows Oscar will be craving in no time. Yeah, Lando’s going to be the best boyfriend ever. 

His phone chimes with a notification, startling Lando bad enough to flinch. It’s Oscar, telling him he’s almost there, and Lando feels the way his legs turn to jelly. It’s fucking ridiculous getting so nervous, he knows Oscar loves him. Well, he’s stuck trying to believe it, but he’s been getting better in recent times. Swear on his life.

The doorbell rings next, and Lando jumps into the air, opening the apartment door in the next breath – and there he is. Lando’s lovely, beautiful boyfriend. Just as stunning as he was, the last time they had seen each other. Oscar’s hair is a little flat, and his eyes are tired, knowing the Australian, he barely managed to sleep on the aeroplane at all. It’s still the best view, Lando’s ever seen. 

“Hi,” he breathes, and then there’s an equally as big of a smile spreading on Oscar’s lips.  In the next second, Oscar opens his arms wide, as he’s stepping through the door. Lando can’t do anything but leap into the other’s hold. 

Oscar probably didn’t expect quite such an enthusiastic greeting, the way they both go off balance a little, but Oscar manages to steady them as he’s gripping Lando underneath his thighs. “That excited to see, me?” 

“Shut up, muppet,” Lando grins, looking down on Oscar (something he doesn’t do often, admittedly) from his place, locking his arms around the older’s neck. “Don’t worry, baby, I’m just as happy to finally have you, where you belong again,” Oscar sighs, before they meet in a soft kiss. It’s not intense or particularly sexual, despite the fact that Lando’s been suffering blue balls for weeks (getting off via telephone sex turns out to be quite difficult when they’re both in houses filled with their respective family members), but it’s still amazing.

They’re trading gentle kisses, as Oscar kicks down the door behind him (oops) and carries Lando to the couch in the middle of the room. He plops the younger down on the cushions, pushing him back to lie down as he traps Lando underneath himself. 

There are hands running through Lando’s curls, tightly pulling on the strands as Oscar pulls him into another kiss. It’s messier now, more desperate. A clash of tongues, that ends in Lando losing the fight for dominance as Oscar starts exploring his mouth. Content, Lando sighs into the kiss as Oscar separates from him and starts to press kisses onto his neck. Just as Oscar’s pulling down the collar of Lando’s hoodie, they get interrupted by the loud rumble of a stomach. 

Giggling, Lando pushes Oscar away, “Hungry?”

“Yeah,” Oscar scratches the back of his head, “I don’t think airplane food is getting better anytime soon.” 

“Good thing I planned ahead then. There’s lasagna from the place across the street waiting in the kitchen for you,” the Brit points towards the door to their right side and Oscar’s up in the next second. Holding out his hand for Lando take, “Up you go, princess.” Lando feels a little dumb about it, how much that nickname makes him tingle inside. Though Lando supposes everything Oscar does, makes him blissful. 

He hopes this feeling – this pure happiness – will last forever. That they’ll always find it themselves to love each other, laugh with each other, return to each other’s arms at night. No matter what happens. Maybe, he’s naïve for believing in something like that. 

Oscar interwinds their fingers on the short walk to the kitchen and it makes butterflies dance inside Lando’s stomach. “Osc,” he pushes his free hand into his boyfriend’s side, “You know I love you, right?” It’s enough of a cheesy statement, for Oscar to turn around and press a peck to Lando’s lips before he busies himself with heating up his dinner in the microwave.

The low buzzing of the kitchen appliance is filling the room, as Oscar carefully strokes his thumb across Lando’s cheek, “Baby, you know I love you even more, right?” Yeah, Lando starts blushing at the statement immediately, listen, he’s just a guy. A baby, really. 

“I don’t think that’s an argument you want to start, babe,” Lando replies, before dragging Oscar closer to himself, grazing the soft knuckles of the other’s hands with his mouth. 

At that, Oscar shakes his head, but he seems amused rather than annoyed as he pulls the younger into a tight hug, swaying them from one side to the other. The microwave starts beeping and they pull away, but not before Oscar makes a point by pressing one more kiss onto the tip of Lando’s nose. 

After Oscar is finished eating, they migrate back to the couch – there’s a new season of Squid Game, they’ve been meaning to watch together, after all. Lando doesn’t know when Oscar’s weird obsession with Korean Dramas inflicted him too, but he’s watched way too many over Christmas. He felt a closer to his boyfriend, doing so. Even if that might seem stupid. 

It doesn’t take long for Oscar to drift off though, clearly exhausted, so Lando suggests heading to bed. The older is close to falling asleep on his feet, as Lando pushes him into the bedroom. They get ready for bed in silent company, slipping into the sheets together. Oscar wastes no time pulling Lando into himself, manhandling him until Lando’s on top of him, pressing his face into Oscar’s soft neck. In a matter of minutes, they fall asleep like this, pressed close to each other. Home, Lando’s brain provides. 

No surprises, it ends up being the best night of sleep Lando has had in ages. 

When Lando wakes on the next morning, the first thing he feels are soft touches. Goosebumps spread all over his skin, as his boyfriends’ hands are running up his sides, drawing patterns of everything and nothing onto him. “Osc what’you’doin’”, he mumbles into the pecks, his face is smashed in to. Huh, seems like Lando scootched down a little during the night. He’s quite surprised, they managed to cling onto each other throughout the entire night. 

“Finally, I thought you’d never wake up,” Oscar teases, slipping one hand into the younger’s curls, scratching along his scalp. Lando mewls into the touch, a bit like a cat, before the words hit him. “That’s rich coming from you, Mr. Piastri,” he complains. 

“You’re going to want to take that sass back in a second, love,” the Australian grins as he slips his other hand down, down and down, until he’s in Lando’s shorts. Softly tracing the shape of his cheeks, before starting to circle around his hole with a finger. “Don’t start something you won’t finish,” Lando admonishes, which makes his boyfriend chuckle. “Oh, I’m planning on both of us finishing.”

Lando’s dick is growing hard against Oscar’s thigh almost immediately – listen, he’s young and in his prime – and he sighs into the soft cotton of the other’s t-shirt. They continue like this, sleep-riddled, lazy touches until Lando grows restless. He needs more, and he needs it now. “Osc,” Lando groans, “Please.”

“Of course, baby,” Oscar replies, moving his hands to drag Lando upwards. Now, that they’re face-to-face, he starts pressing a sweet kiss into Lando’s cheek before their lips meet. It’s a messy dance of tongues, that ends with Lando letting go and sucking into the sensitive skin of Oscar’s throat. Oscar reaches over, searching the nightstand for the lube, as Lando begins to (tamely, really) bite into the skin he’s been licking over. 

Gently, oh so careful hands, Oscar starts to prep him, shyly pressing one then two then three fingers into him, stretching his walls. Lando’s been desperately craving this, finally feeling full again – though his boyfriend’s fingers are only a sour replacement for his cock. “’M ready,” he sighs into Oscar, still hiding his face into his neck. 

“I just don’t want to hurt you, baby.”

“I know you’d never,” Lando raises his head then, so he can look Oscar in his pretty, chocolate brown eyes. “You’re so careful with me, always. I promise you; I can take it now.” A soft smile spreads across pink lips, “Okay, how do you want me?”

“Like this? Wanna b’ on top but don’ wanna move,” Lando sighs, and Oscar snorts, “Pillow princess.”

“Hey,” he hits Oscar in the chest, “Stop being mean to me.” Pouting properly, Lando watches as Oscar rolls his eyes, more fond than annoyed. “You know I’m ridiculously in love with you, Lando.”

“Yeah, but hearing it more often oesn’t hurt, you know?”

Lando’s about to complain a little more, but his words get stuck in his throat when he feels Oscar’s slick cock pushing into his hole. Content, he sighs and smushes his face back into Oscar’s pecks. Despite his earlier demands, Lando ends up raising his hips in tandem with his boyfriend’s thrusts.

It’s not entirely coordinated, lazy with sleep-heavy limbs. Somehow, it’s still some of the best sex, Lando’s ever had. No time at all passes, until they both reach their climax. Oscar groaning as he tightens his hold on Lando’s waist, while Lando cries out.

They spent some more time panting against each other, but the stickiness in Lando’s short turns disgusting pretty quick, so he makes Oscar carry him to the shower. If there’s time for round two, no one has to be any wiser.

A little later, they’re both silently munching on their breakfast (yes, it’s still considered that even if it’s almost 12pm now) – non-Jon approved cereal for Lando, porridge for Oscar (goody-two-shoes) – when Oscar starts to smile at Lando, a mischievous tint to it. Lando, confused, raises an eyebrow at the other’s antics. “What?”

“Will you let me take you on a date today?” The question makes Lando blush, profusely. “What kind of question is that mate,” he tries to play it off. It makes Oscar laugh, leaning over the breakfast bar to press a kiss to top of his head. “Back to being your mate now, am I?” 

“Well, if that date isn’t impressive, you never know,” the Brit teases, before kissing his boyfriend’s cheek. “Kidding, of course.” If he spams the 2025 ROOKIES group chat in excitement while they’re getting ready, well Oscar’s never going to find out. Lando’s got enough blackmail material on Kimi and Ollie respectively. 

Together, they head out and hop into Lando’s McLaren (Artura, orange, yes, he’s got one now), Oscar insists on driving, since Lando doesn’t know where they’re going. (“No, baby, if you put in the address in google maps, it’s going to ruin the surprise, too.”) At least that means, that Lando is in charge of the ‘road trip’ playlist, much to Oscar’s dismay. (“Harassing me with your music pre-race isn’t enough for you now?”) 

The entire way to wherever his boyfriend is taking them, Lando is busy imaging, being allowed to cuddle close to Oscar at Christmas Markets, to take his hand in public and intertwine it with Lando’s own. He knows they’re far away from ever doing something like that, Lando isn’t interested in losing the seat he just obtained. But dreaming hasn’t hurt anyone, ever. So, he has a hard time feeling bad about it. 

“Will you finally tell me where we’re going?” Lando needles Oscar, as the older is searching for parking space. They’re in White City now, a district of the city the younger doesn’t spend a lot of time in necessarily. Once they finally park Lando’s car, Oscar comes around to open up the door for him. It’s cute, but it also makes Lando roll his eyes. He’s not some damsel, besides why is it okay for Oscar to be cute in public, but Lando can’t even pick up his boyfriend from the airport? 

Lando knows he’s being unreasonable. Sometimes he can’t help it though, those ugly demons inside of him rearing their heads again. If he’s actually going to challenge for a title this year, he knows he’s going to have to toughen up. Jon and Nico had been ecstatic, when he agreed to start seeing the sport psychologist they’d been buggering him about. 

His first appointment will be at the end of the month, and every day Lando thinks about skipping out after all. Turns out encouraging others to take care of their mental health and doing it yourself are two very separate things. 

In the next moment they’re rounding a corner and then, they’re in front of a Westfield. No way did they drive all this way to go into a damn shopping centre. One that’s going to be insanely crowded, post-holidays, too. “Oscar, did you just bring me to a Westfield?” 

The other snorts, “Kind of I guess, but we’re not here for shopping. Even though I know you’ve been dying to get some new hoodies.” Lando supposes it’s a fair statement; he’s been meaning to get himself more comfortable hoodies, to keep warm in for cold races. But he’s also got boyfriend privileges now, doesn’t he? Why bother spending his money on new clothes when he can just steal stuff from Oscar’s suitcase.

Oscar continues to lead the way until they stop in front of a Puttshak, and Lando feels his stomach flutter at. “Wait are you taking me Mini golfing? But you hate golf!” Thinking about spending his day doing something he loves with the man he loves is making Lando giddy. 

“I don’t hate it. Completely. Besides, this one’s got like funny lights and stuff, it’s not as boring as regular golf,” Oscar shrugs, but Lando appreciates the gesture all the same. He leans in close to Oscar, whispering into his ear, “Want me to suck you off in the bathrooms?”

Turning red, Oscar pushes Lando away, “Behave or else I’ll turn around and just drive back to the flat.” 

“No!” Lando starts pouting, probably looking ridiculous as he tilts his head and opens up his eyes wide. He’s trying to look cute but judging from Oscar’s gaze he doesn’t quite manage it. “Okay, Jesus. I’ll go inside with you but only if you stop the Powerpuff Girls Impression.”

They head inside then, getting some golf clubs and balls. The next hours are filled with some of the most fun, Lando has had in months. They play two rounds, slipping in between the colourful LED courses. In between their session they sit down to eat, and Oscar insists on covering their bill. (“It’s still a date, baby.” “How, when I’m not even allowed to kiss you?”) Lando gets some cheesy chips while Oscar orders a plate of nachos, both go for sodas with their meals, too. 

Jon and Kim will have their heads on Monday, but Lando can’t be bothered to care about it. (Right now, he’ll regret it in approximately 72 hours.)

Just like he did in the first round, Lando absolutely wipes the floor with his boyfriend. “Okay, I’m done losing now,” Oscar grumbles as they return their clubs at the entrance. “Never expected you to be such a sore loser, Osc,” Lando pokes his side, which results in Oscar shoving his hand away. It’s a harsh motion, and the younger can tell Oscar feels bad about it at once. “Sorry, ticklish”

Somehow Lando never noticed that before. Weird. 

“So, what are we doing next?” 

“You don’t think you’ll actually get that out of me, do you, baby?” Oscar laughs as he sits down in the driver’s seat once more, Lando getting comfortable in his place as passenger princess. At least he can blast some good music.

It takes them a little more than an hour to get to the next place, it’s always bad in London but they get suck in a traffic jam due to – you guessed it – constructions. His boyfriend keeps surprising Lando because their next stop is Greenwich Park, of all places. “Babe, do you think I’ve never been to this park before, or?” Lando can’t help but ask as they leave the car.

“Lando, would it kill you to just do me the favour and go with this, please?” 

“Okay, shutting up now,” Lando raises his head in a non-threatening stance. “I’m all yours.” Oscar continues to take them through the park then, until they make it to the Greenwich Observatory. Lando can’t help but smile at Oscar. “We’re watching stars?”

“Well, I figured you’d like it since you like astrology and stars. And stuff, but if it’s boring, we can do something else,” Oscar tries to act nonchalant about it but it’s pretty obvious how nervous the older’s actually feeling. It’s kind of cute, in all honesty. “Shut up, muppet. It’s perfect.”

They do the whole shebang, Lando insists on it. Starting by taking silly pictures of each other at the Prime Meridian Line, before they head inside the building. Lando sends a particularly funny one to his group chat with Kimi and Ollie and talks Oscar into sending one of his to his friends as well. 

After that, they take a look through the Annie Maunder Astrographic Telescope, and Lando feels honoured at being able to use a piece of history like that. He’ll never get tired of watching the sky. Then, they head to the ‘Earth from Space’ exhibition that has some of the coolest pictures, Lando’s ever seen, displayed. Like the most distant picture taken of earth, ever. How cool is that? Is Lando a nerd for celebrating shit like that? Maybe, but Oscar looks just as excited about everything. 

The sun has set, once they’re done and, on their walk, back through the park to the car. “Best date ever,” Lando sighs as he stretches out his limbs. “Best boyfriend ever too,” he grins up at Oscar, who smiles back. “Well, I do love to please. I’m just happy you had a good time today; I was seriously worried you were going to hate it.”

“Osc,” the Brit turns serious then, feeling like he owes it to Oscar, to make it clear how much this means to him. He still feels bad about how he had acted at the end of the last season. Ignoring him and running from Oscar, stewing in his hurt instead of just hearing his teammate out. “This was the most perfect date, I’ve ever been on, yeah? Genuinely. ‘Sides, you know I’m stupidly in love with you, so you really shouldn’t be surprised about it.” 

“I know,” Oscar breathes, squeezing Lando’s hand in his for a second before letting go again. “Good,” Lando replies, “Also, can I drive now?” It makes his boyfriend break out in laughter, shaking his head as he agrees with Lando’s demand. 

Their weekend is spent mostly by lazing around the flat. Once, they head out on Saturday for a grocery run before locking themselves back inside again. They also binge through the second season of Squid Game and Lando successfully bullies Oscar into joining the other 2025 rookies and him for a couple of rounds of CoD and Tarkov. Kimi spends most of the time (he doesn’t screech at them after getting killed off) absolutely clowning Oscar. Lando finds it amusing but puts an end to his friends’ torments, once he can tell things are actually getting to the Australian. 

It's a weird talent of the Italian, poking at other people until they snap. Lando loves him, wholeheartedly, but sometimes he wonders how Ollie can put up with him. Those two had spent their holidays together, spamming Lando with a tooth-rooting amount of cute and kissy selfies. He tried not to be jealous about it, back then, but as he was cuddling into his bed at night, he ended up wishing for Oscar more times than not. Well, there’s hope next year will be different. 

On one of those days, lounging on the couch, Lando asks Oscar about it. “Do you think we’ll still be together Christmas next year?”

Oscar turns to him, a grumpy frown on his face, “Of course. I don’t want to spend a Christmas without you ever again, baby. You’re stuck with me for life.” Maybe it’s cheesy, but Lando’s heart warms at the statement all the same. Lando misses some of the third episode of their series then, as he slips onto the ground and frees Oscar from his joggers. 

The days pass to quickly, and it’s time to get back to work in no time at all. Monday morning, they get ready in silent solidarity, before heading out to Woking in separate cars. It’s to keep up appearances, of course. Lando’s fairly sure Kim, Jon, and Nico all know what’s going on, they had front seats to the last season after all, but it’s not like they’ll crash through the door with the news.

Things are still too fresh for that. 

Lando feels a little stupid, when he walks into the MTC and it feels like home, but he really feels like he might make this team his own. Has been doing so for the past year, and he’s finally starting to believe that they like having him here. That they see him capable enough to do great things, win a championship with them. There’s nothing he wishes for more desperately. Winning a constructor’s championship with his boyfriend. At one point maybe even achieving a driver championship to call his own? Call Lando greedy, but he wants it all. 

His teammate – and boyfriend – had arrived a little earlier than Lando, already in a meeting with what Lando assumes to be Webber and his race engineer, Tom, probably Zak and Andrea, too. Nico, Will and Jon are waiting for the Brit in his own office, and something feels like reuniting with family about that too. Being out of his rookie seasons seems to have made Lando a little nostalgic, or wistful, maybe. 

Excited, he swings the door open, “Guess who’s back!” 

Nico, sitting on Lando’s desk chair, rolls his eyes at the younger’s antics, while Jon snorts and Will simply looks at him. “Welcome back, little rookie,” his trainer grins, before ruffling through Lando’s curls. “Hey, rude! I’ve spent way too much time on my hair this morning.”

“I don’t think he qualifies as a rookie anymore, anyways,” Nico provides from his place, before getting up to greet Lando with a warm hug. Will’s next, simply bumping his fist with Lando’s, “Good to have you back with us, mate.”

Lando looks at them all, the three most important people in his career. The men he’d trust with his fucking life, and does so, every day. It could be rose-tinted glasses or just the high of ending the last season with his first win, but something tells Lando the 2026 season is going to be a good one. 

[poppitron360]

In honour of today being 55 years since the first stone thrown at the Stonewall Uprising, here is some Valgrace fanfiction (definitely that and not the fact that I just happen to have finished it yesterday).

I am so, incredibly grateful to all those people who rioted from June 28th-July 3rd in Greenwich Village, New York, just so that I could one day have the right to post angsty little fics about these two fictional teenagers on my tiny Tumblr blog (That is what they were fighting for, right?). We have come so far, haven’t we? And I think it’s important, next time we read a silly little Valgrace fic or reblog some Solangelo fanart, we owe it all to a Black Trans Woman who threw the first stone (Seriously, guys, read into the Stonewall Riots, they are fascinating).

So the message here is… Don’t be mean, just read Valgrace?

Anyway-

Summary: AU where Valgrace is canon meaning that Leo came straight back to chb after BoO. Set at New Year’s, following the aftermath of the battle with Gaea and Leo’s “Death”. Leo struggles with flashbacks, having just exploded and therefore probably being traumatised. Jason comforts him, and they realise- even though they’re still scarred from the war- just how lucky they are to have each other, and to, for once, not have the weight of the world resting on their shoulders.

CW: Angst I guess

Word Count: 2,084

VALGRACE

Jason was swaddled in his scarf and winter coat. Leo had settled for just a jacket and gloves, after much grumbling.

“I don’t get cold like you do!” He’d complained, “I’m toasty warm!!”

He’d agreed to put on the jacket for the necessity of pockets (because his magic infinitely-pocketed tool belt apparently wasn’t enough). Jason, on the other hand, was freezing. He needed a sweater, a coat, a hat, a scarf AND his hot-water-bottle of a boyfriend to keep from turning blue. He’d spent most of his childhood at Camp Jupiter in California, where even wintertime was balmy. Here on Long Island, the air bit like an alley cat.

They walked down to the beach, the cold night air stinging Jason’s cheeks. Jason put an arm around Leo’s shoulders and rested his chin on the top of his curly-haired head, which made it awkward as they walked.

“…What’re you doing?” Leo asked.

“Mmm…” Was Jason’s response, “You’re warm…”

Maybe it was the whole “raised by wolves” thing, Jason had always had the urge to curl up on a comfortable lap and snore.

Leo didn’t push him off.

They stepped gingerly down to the docks, hug-walking as they went. A crowd of people had already gathered along the shoreline, looking out towards the ocean. A large clock had been set up to face them, the time reading 11:52.

“Eight minutes to go…” Jason said, taking his chin off of his human chin-rest and looking at Leo, “It’s been a hell of a year, hasn’t it?”

Leo nodded, “Yeah. I died.”

“We fought giants and monsters.”

“And I made a super awesome plate of enchiladas, my best yet!”

“Those were some really good enchiladas.”

Leo looked down, and Jason could see a little hint of sadness in his eyes. Then he looked back up at Jason.

“I’m glad I have you, Jason.”

Jason put an arm around him and pulled him closer as they looked out towards the clock and the sky and the sea, “I’m glad I have you, too, firefly.”

They stayed there, enjoying each other’s company, waiting for the New Year to drop, and for once, they were just regular boyfriends.

Then the countdown started.

“10… 9… 8…”

Jason looked into Leo’s deep brown eyes and smiled. Everything was perfect.

“7… 6… 5… 4…”

Leo smiled back, yelling the numbers alongside everyone else.

“3… 2… 1…”

They kissed.

“Happy New Year!!!!!”

And then, the first firework exploded, and everything went wrong.

Bang!

Leo’s face flashed with panic, his eyes darting around wildly like for a moment he’d forgotten where he was.

Bang! Bang!

Fireworks lit the sky, but Jason wasn’t looking. He was watching Leo’s face as the colours flashed across it, reds and greens and purples. The bright twinkle that reflected in his eyes was supposed to be that happy spark of wonder at the fireworks, but Leo’s eyes were filled with utter terror and dread. He pulled away from Jason, and took a few steps back, momentarily stunned by the explosions.

“Leo, what’s wrong?”

BANG!!

Leo yelped and wrapped his arms around his head, covering his ears. He stumbled back, colliding with some other campers in the crowd. They briefly stopped their whooping and cheering to shoot him a disgruntled look, then turned back to the sky.

Jason stepped forward, but Leo was looking around, confused, like his mind had gone somewhere else. His breath was short and panicked. His eyes were watery, staring in fear at the sky.

Bang!! Bang-bang!!!

Leo unwrapped his arms from his head, and used them to push through the bodies of staring people, stumbling and scarpering away from the noise.

Jason chased after him, “Leo, wait! Where are you-“

Leo had disappeared into the crowd.

Jason spent the next few minutes searching for him on the beach, no luck. He ignored the bangs behind him. The crowd ooh-ed and aah-ed at the explosions of light. Jason pushed through them, calling Leo’s name. He was getting worried. Leo knew how to disappear if he wanted to. If he was running scared, Jason wasn’t sure if he could find him before he got himself hurt. Why did he have to end up dating the flight risk? No, that was unfair. Leo’s runaway childhood was through no fault of his own. But if he was frightened, Jason had to find him quickly.

He searched the Hephaestus Cabin. Nothing. The forges. Nothing. The only other place Jason figured Leo would hide was Bunker 9. And sure enough, as soon as he’d entered, the large industrial lighting rig slammed on, and he could see Leo curled up against the wall, shivering. And Leo didn’t get cold.

“Leo?” He asked, “You okay?”

Leo shook his head, his hands still clutched around his ears. His voice was chocked with tears.

“Expl-explosions-” He managed, “Loud… very loud…”

Leo’s whole body was shaking. Jason crouched down next to him.

“When you… when you died? In that blast? The fireworks brought you back to that moment?”

He remembered the confused look in Leo’s eyes as he watched the colourful explosions light the sky- like he was somewhere else, hearing a different bang.

“I… I…” Leo wiped his eyes with the heel of his hand, and took a deep breath. He seemed to regain his composure, enough to look Jason in the eyes. “It was so painful, Jason… I was… and I didn’t understand why everyone was clapping.”

Ever since Leo had come back, he’d kept that same bubbly persona going. Jason hadn’t even realised how much actually dying had scarred him, but of course, it must have done. Leo never let on that he was haunted by that, but Jason could see it now clear as ever. Every firework would bring him back to that morning, when Leo had vaporised Gaea with the force of his own power.

Jason nodded. “I understand. The flashbacks… they’re hard. Particularly when everyone else seems to be unaffected. Your whole life flashes before your eyes and they’re cheering. It’s scary… But you’re safe now. Nothing’s gonna hurt you here.”

Jason wrapped his big strong arms around Leo’s shoulders and pulled him into a hug. Leo buried his face in Jason’s lap and began to sob. Jason stroked his hair.

“Shh… it’s okay… you’re safe now… you’re safe…”

Outside the thick walls of Bunker 9, muffled bangs continued. Leo whimpered at every single one.

“It’s okay, Leo… they can’t hurt you… you’re safe with me…”

“I’m sorry…” Leo sobbed.

“Shh. Shh. Sorry for what, Baby?”

Leo rolled over in Jason’s lap so that he was looking up into his eyes, “For ruining New Year’s with my stupid PTSD. You should be out there enjoying yourself instead of worrying about me, crying like a baby who’s afraid of a little fireworks.”

“No. No. Stop thinking like that. Stop it, right now. As your commanding officer, I forbid it.”

“You’re not my commanding officer!” Leo complained, indignantly, “Those are only to Roman soldiers. At Camp Half-Blood, we’re both head counsellors. We’re of equal station.”

“Fine,” Jason rolled his eyes, “As your boyfriend then. You’re banned from calling yourself stupid. You’re not stupid, Leo. You’re hurting. You’re scared. It’s okay, you have a right to feel those things. It’s totally normal, considering what you’ve been through.”

Leo was silent for a long time. Then he said, “Actually, I have the title of Supreme Commander, so I outrank you.”

Jason chuckled, “How about Prince then? My dad is King of the universe.”

“Holy Hephaestus, you’re right… I’m dating a freaking Prince.”

They laughed and settled into comfortable silence for a few moments. Then Leo’s expression turned sad.

“I know that I- I joke about it a lot, but I was… dead. I was actually dead, Jason.”

“I know… I know…”

“Like, I actually died. And… I can’t help but wonder… how she felt…”

“You mean your mom?” Jason asked.

Leo nodded, “How much pain I was in… I put her through that…”

“No… Baby, no…”

“Yeah, yeah, I know it was Gaea who caused it, but it was my flames that burned her. Or maybe it was smoke inhalation or something, I dunno, but it came from me. The pain she felt was a direct result of something that came from inside me. And I felt it, too. When I killed Gaea. It was horrible. I finally understood how she would’ve felt. Except it would’ve been worse for her, wouldn’t it? Trapped in that workshop, helpless, alone, as the flames rose up.”

Leo paused. Jason just studied him, silently. At the lack of new input, Leo continued, “What was she thinking? Did she see the fire and know that I’d done that? I mean, she didn’t know that Gaea was there. In those final moments, dying by her son’s hand, did she think I’d let her down? Because I couldn’t control it? Did she realise with a sinking feeling that all her worst fears were confirmed, that I really was too dangerous? Was she disappointed in herself for not raising me right? For not teaching me to be more careful? It’s just… once you’ve faced your own death, experienced the thoughts going through your head in those final moments, you start to wonder what other people thought during theirs. I dunno…”

Jason thought about that, “No, no, I get it. I understand.”

It had taken a while for Leo to get to a point where he could talk to Jason so openly like that. Where he could share the thoughts that haunted him, articulate his feelings in a way that Jason could understand. Even if he didn’t understand sometimes, he still listened. But most of the time, he could empathise with Leo- probably more than Leo realised. Jason himself hadn’t been dead, but he’d come close. And what Leo had said about thinking in those final moments… that resonated with him. He thought about his own mom. Did she think about him at all in that car crash? Did she regret abandoning him, not reaching out? Or did she not care?

“I get it,” Jason said again, “I mean, I actually lost you. It might’ve been only for a day or so, but for a few moments you weren’t on this planet at the same time as me. I don’t really want to think about it, the fact that I could’ve…”

He stroked Leo’s hair, as Leo started to cry.

“I’m sorry, Jason…” He mumbled.

“No… No, what’re you sorry for?”

“I don’t know,” Leo admitted, “Putting you through that, I guess.”

“Oh, Baby… No… I mean, it hurt, but you came back. All is good.”

“And I’m sorry to my mom.”

“She’ll forgive you. She knows you didn’t mean it.”

“You don’t know that.”

“I can take an educated guess,” Jason told him, “I’m Prince of the freaking Cosmos, remember? You have to listen to me.”

Jason rubbed Leo’s shoulder as Leo lay in his lap, “Look, Leo, you’re valuable. You’re needed. You deserve love, and forgiveness, and patience, and everything else. You’re brilliant, and awesome, and cool.”

“I know,” Leo said.

“Then why don’t you believe me when I tell you that? This was not your fault. You don’t need to keep kicking yourself about it. You did good. You saved the world. You avenged her death. You are loved. You are cared for. You are forgiven.”

Leo burst into tears.

“Shhh… it’s okay…” Jason soothed, “You can rest, now.”

“You can rest, now…”

Long had Jason waited to hear those words. And now, looking down at Leo, eyes closed, head rested on Jason’s knee, his breathing getting increasingly steadier- he realised how much Leo had needed them, too. And he found, with absolute certainty, that it was true for them both. There were no explosions. There was no Gaea. They were safe, here, at Camp. They had each other. It would take time for the nightmares to end, for the scars to fade. It would mean Leo would not be able to enjoy fireworks for a long time, maybe never. But they were safe. They could rest here, until daybreak. They might even skip breakfast and sleep in all morning. No urgent quests needed to be undertaken. No oracles prophesied their deaths. Leo had Jason to dry his tears. Jason had Leo to keep him warm. They were beaten and damaged, but they were alive. And they could rest, knowing that they had each other. For that, Jason was eternally grateful.

[moonwatchuniverse]

100 years ago... LtCmdr Rupert Gould best selling book 100 years ago, Royal Navy LtCmdr Rupert Gould (1890-1948) published his famous book " The Marine Chronometer " (preface December 1922 - 1923) but we didn't have to wait a century for a worthy reprint as in 2013 the ACC Antique Collectors' Club brought out their 365 pages version... and again in 2016. A truly amazing book with extra chapter full of great color photographs as both reprints almost sold out immediately. October 5th, 2023 will be the 75th anniversary of the passing of LtCmdr Rupert Gould, a Royal Navy officer who safed, cleaned and repaired John Harrison's Marine clocks, naming H1 to H5. More recommended reading: Time Restored: The Harrison Timekeepers and RT Gould, the man who knew (almost) everything (2006 Oxford Univ Press). (Photos: MWU & Nat Maritime Museum)

[ltwilliammowett]

This early chronometer was originally on-board HMS Victory around 1812.

Ordinary clocks were of no use at sea (for official records) due to temperature changes and the ship’s motion. Marine chronometers like this one were precision timepieces used to find a ship’s position by celestial navigation. Longitude would be determined by comparing Greenwich Mean Time (GMT) and the time at the current location found from observations of celestial bodies, like stars or the moon.

It was John Harrison (1693 -1776) who invented the first practical marine chronometer in 1735.

[szigetingy]

Gandalf: All we have to decide is what to do with the time that is given to us. {Shepherd Gate Clock – (The Royal Observatory Greenwich is home to the Shepherd Gate Clock)} ~ Németh György Photography (Szingy Photo Gallery)

[moonstar-mush]

EXALTED SECRET SANTA 2024

Back at it again! For more reference pictures take a look at my character’s tags on my blog.

Entry 1: Sarita Ghoshal

Secrets-Caste Sidereal Exalt

Pronouns: She/her

Age: 42 (has been exalted for 2 years)

Ht: 5’7”

Description: A wily huckster from the streets of Champoor, the city of night. Sarita has very easily transitioned into her life with the Celestial Bureaucracy, it’s all just another big scam to her—and she’s great at selling scams. A schemer, a liar, and a relentless control freak, she’s always crafting elaborate plans for her party to enact. Deep down though she has a big heart, even if it’s hidden behind a million layers of lies and the fakest smile this side of the Blessed Isle. Her soft side is the most apparent whenever she interacts with her “henchmen”: a brass legionnaire bodyguard and a pattern spider secretary that are like daughters to her (though she’ll never admit it).

Anima: Sidereal animas are pretty subtle things, doubly so for someone as secretive as Sarita. When it manifests visibly, it appears as if she’s twisting and weaving near-invisible strands of fate, like a spider at the center of her web.

Anatomy Notes: Sarita is on the plumper side, so please don’t draw her skinny. She also has a significant limp in her right leg, and walks with the aid of her Starmetal cane, so keep that in mind if drawing a full-body. She wears green-tinted glasses, though I’ve provided a ref of what she looks like without them (her eye color is green and she wears heavy purple eye shadow). She usually has a very wide and kinda fake-looking smile on, very skeezy car-saleswoman vibes.

Motifs: Green and purple; disguises; loud colors and obnoxious patterns; 80’s office worker couture; masks; webs or string; puzzles; rubik’s cubes (but fantasy)

Entry 2: Tendaji Greenwich

Twilight Caste Solar Exalt (Bureaucracy Supernal)

Pronouns: She/Her, Xe/Xyr, or They/Them

Age: 23 (been an exalt for a year and a half)

Ht: 5'8"

Other References: see the links in last years Journal.

Description: My first ever exalted player character! Her game wrapped up a year ago, but she always. She went from being a nervous and timid little nerd to a confident and self-actualized little nerd. I couldn't be prouder of her. The outfit and hairdo in the first two photos are her current appearance, and you can use the general color scheme in the third drawing.

Anima: Instead of appearing on xer forehead, Tendaji's castemark is actually situated on xer left eye, which turned teal upon xer exaltation. They manifest the Sun's command over the cycles of night and day, which essentially means they have time-powers. Tennie doesn't just build things, they push forward the hands of time to a project's completion. They don't just move quickly, they skip through time in a series of glitchy leaps and teal after-images. The nature of their exaltation is a bit overwhelming, and the more they use their powers, the less control they seem to have over what they're doing, slipping into a trance-like state and babbling in First Age tongues.

Anatomy Notes: Tendaji lost xyr right arm in a battle against an Abyssal, and eventually got it replaced thanks to the help of a necrosurgeon and xyr Liminal boyfriend (who donated its arm for grafting). The references in the artwork above depict how it should look, however now the vitiligo patterns have now begun to spread to further parts of Tendaji's body. Another note that hasn't been included in the color refs is that a few of her locks have become stark white due to some mental trauma involving ghostly possession.

Motifs: Teal & Yellow; clocks, watches; hourglasses, sundials and other assorted time imagery; architecture and city layouts; sunflowers & honeybees; paperwork, pens, sketches, and blueprints; when they're having a bad time: glitchiness and intense shadows.

[oblivious-idiot]

Hi your Lockwood fics are amazing honestly- could you do a Lockwood x reader where she’s the older sister of Kipps? The rest is up to you though thanks :) ❤️

Now that I’m grown (I’m scared of ghosts)

AN: Lockwood is aged up in this so there wasn't a 5+ age gap haha! I also don't explicitly say how old any of the characters are since I wasn't sure on the age gap between Lockwood and Kipps anyways, but they're all around early 20s.

This is quite a hefty one, I had the idea to make the reader a DEPRAC officer to fit with being an older sister of Kipps, so I hope you like it!

Warnings: Reader is slightly older than Lockwood, disappointed Barnes, flirty Lockwood, mild hurt/comfort, fluff, aged up Lockwood and Co

Word count: 2k

Pairing: Anthony Lockwood x fem!Reader

You and Anthony Lockwood had a tendency of bumping into each other on cases, or should you say that you had a habit of finding him at the crack of dawn after destroying a house or causing some sort of disturbance. You used to be one of the more 'senior' members of Fittes' agency and one of top supervisors the country had - well, before your (slightly younger) brother Quill took over. You ultimately decided to move on and work for DEPRAC since your Talent began to fade, which helped you to begin to get to grips with adulthood. You'd began to like it at DEPRAC, already at the position of Sergeant after a couple of years, but that also meant that you had to be ready whenever Inspector Barnes needed you.

Where were you? Ah yes, Anthony Lockwood. You swore that guy had a death wish as he loved blowing things up and getting into trouble, you'd think he was some new hotshot agent if you hadn't known him for such a long time and he wasn't basically an adult himself. Regardless of his quarrels with your brother, he always seemed to love to charm you in those early hours of the mornings, somehow always covered in either soot or silver, or both. You had to stay professional of course, you were working and Quill would kill you if he saw you "fraternising with the enemy" as he would always say, but you would always notice little things about Lockwood - like how he tousled his hair when he walked over to you or how he'd grown into his stupid coat.

One morning - supposedly your day off, you were woken by the loud ringing of the telephone by your bed, you let out a knowing sigh as it could only be one person at this time of day. "Barnes, what pleasure do I owe you on this fine morning?" you ask him as you look to your window to see a darkness, then to your bedside clock showing 4:30am. It wasn't even sunrise yet. "Sorry, I know it's your day off. We're to head to an old country house in Greenwich. I believe Lockwood and Co are already there, reaping havoc as per usual" "Oh fantastic, he's gonna love seeing us just drop by for a helping hand. I'll call Quill and tell him to get ready incase we need backup." "Perfect, I'll pick you up in 15." You hung up and let out a soft chuckle, already imagining Lockwood's disgruntled expression as he sees Barnes arrive with both his most and least favourite Kipps sibling and a team of agents.

You and Barnes arrived at the country house just as Lockwood and his fellow agents emerged from the building, the windows leaking with smoke and the agents covered in soot. "Anthony Lockwood, do I need to start detaining you every time you set fire to a house?" Barnes growled out, though it did make you chuckle. "What can I say Inspector? Wouldn't you prefer to see a bunch of agents still alive over another building riddled with Visitors?" Lockwood held up his hands in defence before flashing you one of his cocky, devilish smiles "Morning Kipps, looking as radiant as ever. That green turtleneck really brings out your eyes." "Feeling like I just crawled out of a grave, but thanks Tony" It wasn't your voice that replied, but that of your brother Quill's who had suddenly appeared next to you.

Lockwood's face, oh what a picture that was, he looked like he had just eaten a lemon when Quill had appeared. Although he never said it to you personally, you were almost positive that Quill had said something to Lockwood about flirting with you, although that never stopped him. If you knew Anthony Lockwood at all from the five plus years while you'd been an agent, it's that he would do almost anything to piss off your brother. It made you laugh really, saying as you were older than both of them by at least a year or so.

You pulled Lockwood aside to a secluded spot for questioning as a mix of DEPRAC and Fittes agents swarmed the building as they made it safe and put out any fires. "We really must stop meeting like this y/n" Lockwood said to you as you finished questioning him on the case "Hmm, it's funny that isn't it, since our jobs correlate with each other." You say to him as you give him a slight smirk and put away your notepad. "Alright, you got me. I'm simply suggesting that we should... maybe see each other outside of work" Anthony's eyes sparkled amongst the soot that covered his face and he held out his hands as if in question. You crossed your arms and met his eyes "As if Quill would let you even attempt at the idea-" "When has Quill Kipps ever been the boss of you? A young lady like yourself doesn't need his approval, and regardless, here I am 'attempting'" his wide toothy grin spread across his face as he saw your cheeks flush a little pink and a smile tug at your lips "I'm going to take that as a yes, I await your call Sergeant!" Before you knew it, he was strolling his away back to George and Lucy who were waiting for him, and the group of them exited the scene.

Although you had thought about calling Lockwood, you had his number from the DEPRAC database, you got so caught up in all your current case work that it wasn't your biggest priority. You almost called him once after work and realised it was a ridiculous time of day and thought he'd either be sleeping or on a case himself. That didn't stop him from eventually getting back in your line of sight though.

A few weeks later when you arrived at work one early morning, Barnes called you to let you know that there was another disturbance overnight and it needed a look over. You sighed - were you disappointed or happy it was Lockwood? You weren't sure, but you knew you were gonna kick his ass when you saw him. Once you arrived at the house everything seemed normal, no officers or agents were outside, the building seemed quiet, it was very strange. You slowly opened the door and stepped inside, it was freezing and you could see the clouds of your breath in front of you. Suddenly there was a loud crash and crackling of salt bombs up ahead of you in another room "Lockwood? Are you in here?" you called out into the dark hall, your hands burying into your pockets - one grasping onto a salt bombs you kept incase of need and the other fiddling with a compact silver net. You never used to be scared of ghosts, but now you were older and couldn't see them as well, it was hard to keep your heart from racing.

You headed towards the room where the noise originated from and called out again "Lockwood? Carlyle? It's Sergeant Kipps." You opened the door, noticing the handle was icy to the touch, and crept inside. "Kipps!? Move out the way!" George almost shouted as he saw you, iron chain in his hand and stood next to Lucy with her rapier raised. But you couldn't move and you couldn't see the Visitor either, but you could feel it as it buried its eyes into you - you were Ghost Locked. You looked around the room in search for Lockwood, your body frozen on the spot, before seeing him in the corner of the room clutching his side as he looked for the Source. You willed everything in your body to feel something again, to unclasp yourself from the control the apparition had on you. You slowly began to move your hand out of your pocket, salt bomb in your grasp "Is it directly in front of me?" you asked "Yep. So close you cannot miss it" Lucy replied, slowly moving George out of your line of fire. You finally mustered the willpower and threw the salt bomb, knowing it had collided with the Visitor when it snapped and banged and you finally felt like you could breathe again.

"I've got the Source! Someone throw me a Seal" Lockwood called out. George tossed you a large silver net as you made your way over to where Lockwood was and handed it to him. He covered the Source and you could hear everyone in the room collectively let out a breath. Slowly you helped Lockwood out of the building while the others cleared the house, setting him down on the front steps of the house as he clutched his side. "Do you mind if I take a look at that?" he heaved out of chuckle and grinned at you "You'll only call DEPRAC to deal with it-" "I'll only call them if I deem it necessary. If I think you're gonna die on me, you bet your ass I'm going to call them." You let out a reassuring smile and he agreed to your help - it only appeared to be some heavy bruising so you were relieved. "You know, I think you're right. We really should stop meeting like this" you say to him, the both of you chuckling to each other as your foreheads rested gently together, fingers interwoven.

The tender moment between you and Lockwood was suddenly broken when you heard the crunch of footsteps on the gravel driveway up ahead, and of course it was Barnes and your brother Quill. The both of you hurriedly rose to your feet, patting down the dust off your coat as the officer and agent both gave you stern looks "You know Sergeant, when I send you out to check on a disturbance, I expect to be updated on the scene so I don't have to call out agents to save your ass." "Sorry sir, the scene was awfully quiet and I was concerned for the safety of-" your chest was tight as you felt eyes from both the Inspector and your brother bore into your skull, but Barnes cut you off before you could continue. "I do not care about the safety of your boyfriend, you do not have Talent anymore and you put yourself in serious danger." His voice was harsh but steady, Lockwood slowly making his way to your side as he finished talking "Inspector, Kipps, if I may add, if it wasn't for the Sergeant here we would've been in serious trouble. She ensured the safety of my entire team and helped keep the Visitor at bay even without seeing it."

Quill's face was so stern and tense that you pulled him aside once Barnes finished with his disapproving warnings, leaving him with Lockwood. "You shouldn't have gone in there y/n, you should've called for backup." "Hey, Quill, look at me. I'm totally fine, nothing happened." you held your brothers hands in your own, rubbing your thumbs in a soothing pattern "If I hadn't gone in there, Anthony and his team could've been seriously injured or worse, you know I couldn't just ignore that." He let out a long sigh and met your eyes "You really like him, don't you?" "I hate to disappoint brother, but it was kind of inevitable" Quill chuckled and nodded to you, and you returned a smile to him.

Your brother finally let you go over to Lockwood, both your eyes meeting when you arrived by his side. "Finally convinced the spoilsport to let me take you out?" he joked and you couldn't help but smile. “Stop burning houses down Anthony, and I’ll think about it".