#here's to an uneventful 2021

[cheriladycl01]

Monaco Mayhem - Charles Leclerc x Reader

Plot: Charles finally breaks the dreadful Monaco curse to bring a home race win!

In 2018 Charles was unlucky in Monaco, a virtual safety car came out on lap 73 when his left front brake disc failed just before the Nouvelle Chicane, causing him to crash into the back of Brendon Hartley.

In 2019 the ‘curse’ continued even though he was now in Ferrari, after a rough qualifying he began to fight through the field after starting in 15th place. You were so happy watching him having made it up to 12th by lap eight, but touched the inside wall at turn 17 during an overtake attempt on Nico Hülkenberg, which is always a risky move in Monaco. This contact caused a right-rear tyre puncture. Over the course of the next lap, you had watched, tears in your eyes for your boyfriend as he fell to last place as his tyre ripped apart and caused significant damage to the car's floor, causing him to be a while lap down by the time he came out of the pits.

In 2020, due to COVID restriction your boyfriend and the other 19 drivers weren’t racing on the historic circuit due to the strict regulations in place.

In 2021, first time in Monaco since COVID and the curse was still in place. After an incredible qualifying Charles was sitting in pole position. You both celebrated that night, so excited for the Sunday race. However whatever gods were watching over Monaco … or Charles or the ones who supported Max in getting his first world championship worked overtime that night, as Charles had a Did Not Start due to a driveshaft problem.

In 2022 it was the first year that you and Charles started having proper relationship issues. You’d just had a huge deal at work, which meant you weren’t able to come to as many races as you had been in previous years (where you basically went to all of them except a few that clashed with your schedule) and he was for the first time leading the drivers world championship, ahead of last year’s champion, Max. You were both stressed, and not around each other enough and it put a huge strain on your relationship.

However, you made sure to be at Monaco despite your huge argument at the last race in Spain.

He qualified on pole for the second year running and you were beaming for the hills. You were praying that nothing happened to the car overnight or in the race. However you clearly didn’t pray hard enough, with the shit show that came from team order.

Is it to pit or not too pit …

Well nobody fucking knew and you could hear over the radio how frustrating it was for Charles when he and Sainz ended up pitting at the same time due to miscommunication on the Ferrari pit wall.

This caused delays meaning both Verstappen and Perez got out ahead of them and left Charles not even on the podium.

In 2023, you and Charles had started communicating a lot better towards the end of the 2022 season and were a lot better off for it, meaning your relationship was never better despite Max’s (and Red Bulls) clear domination this season.

Monaco again was disappointing. But it was a hard race.

2023 despite being a uneventful year in Formula One, Charles had proposed to you, and you were set to get married after the Monaco Grand Prix of 2024, as there was a little bit of time before Canada to have the ceremony with some of Charles closest friends and family, who had tight and busy schedules.

So here you were waiting as Charlie, your fiancé … soon to be husband is sat in P1, Oscar … his son who you’d both famously adopted this weekend right next him.

You were nervous through the whole race despite how dull the race was. You were sat with Charles family, hugging Arthur from one side and Pascale from the other as you gasp at a tight corner that Charles got a little close for comfort over.

You were praying for your boyfriend to finally get his home race win and kiss the curse goodbye that had been held over his head for the last 5 years.

Tears are streaming down your eyes as you hear his race engineers comforting words in the last few laps where he’d made a pretty strong gap to the person behind him.

All of Ferrari was hyped for the man that had been with them for the last few years and had all developed strong bonds with the driver. They watched on as he completed his last laps, no errors to be seen. When he crosses the chequered flag, your launching yourself at anyone you can, not caring that you definitely resemble a watering can right now to the Sky Sports camera that you just know will be on you.

Your celebrating with the team who eventually drag you out to the park ferme area to go see him. And when you do, my god he looks ethereal. The sweat sheening around him, and how his hair still managed to look as though it had been styled by his mum this morning.

He was immaculate in your eyes. He celebrated with the team, hugging Carlos and Oscar, before settling his eyes on you.

“This one was for you, my love” he whispers in your ear lifting your up into a hug, a blush coating your face making you dive you head into his neck away from the faces and camera.

“I’m so so proud of you, you finally did it. I don’t even think you’ve just made every resident of Monaco happy but everyone watching was routing for you!” You smile before pulling him into a kiss.

“I love you so much, I - I can’t believe this feeling right now! I -“ he breathes struggling to find the words.

“Go get that P1 trophy … Mr Leclerc” you grin and he smiles back, a goofy expression on his face.

“And will Mrs Leclerc be watching …” he grins back and you can’t help but laugh.

“Still Miss Y/L/N until tomorrow honey” you smile and start to push him further away to where he’s being heckled over by Martin Brundle for his post race interview.

And you keep to your word, you watch with tears in your eyes as you hear the Monacan National anthem for the first time at an F1 race since 2022 and the way Charles looks in that podium is a real sight to see.

You know the photographers are rubbing their hands and licking their lips as they take the pictures right now knowing just how much cash they’ll get for these photos.

You watch on as he dedicates his trophy down to you, kissing it and then blowing you as kiss making you catch it and place it in your cheeks. (Once you just rolled your eyes at his childish antics … let’s just say you never ever missed an kiss again).

Later that night and you were celebrating his win with all of his and your friends. Lando, Pierre, Carlos and Max were all there with their partners who you were very close with, and later on you were joined by Oscar and Daniel and their girlfriends.

It was a full atmosphere with everyone coming up and congratulating him not only on the win, but wishing him luck and sending their congratulations for the wedding tomorrow. Two cakes were brought out … one for the win, one as a little preemptive wedding cake got tomorrow.

“Wait Y/N, Charles do you have separate parties before tomorrow?” Kika says shouting out over the loud music sounding around.

“What do you mean?” You ask her confused only for everyone to gasp.

“You mean to say you don’t have a bachelorette party, or Charles doesn’t have a stag due? I just thought i didn’t get an invite” Lando says a hand against his chest happy that he didn’t get left out.

“No?” You laugh, not seeing the big deal with it.

“Oh come on, it’s your last time to party single!” Rebecca laughs, shaking your shoulders a little.

“What?! I’m not single though, Charles is my fiancé. It would just be the last time to party when I’m not fully tied down, but … I mean it’s not like after we marry we’ll become an old couple that doesn’t come out with us” you offer and they all look at you.

“Do you see Sergio or K-Mag here? Or any of the married lot, even George and Alex bailed on tonight to be with their girls … you guys are next” Daniel argues and you and Charles look between each other in shock.

“Oh come on guys, we aren’t going to be like that” you whine.

After some more back and forth of arguing you guys all decide on some more drinks, but you Ane Charles have a wordless agreement that you wouldn’t become THAT couple after marriage.

You guys would still be fun right?

Taglist:

@littlesatanicassholebitch @hockey-racing-fubol @laura-naruto-fan1998 @22yuki @simxican @sinofwriting @lewisroscoelove @cmleitora @daemyratwst @lauralarsen @the-untamed-soul @thewulf @itsjustkhaos @purplephantomwolf @chasing-liberosis @summissss @gulphulp @starfusionsworld @jspitwall @sierruhhhh @georgeparisole @youcannotcancelquidditch @tallbrownhairsarcastic @ourteenagetragedy @peachiicherries @formulas-bitch @cherry-piee @spilled-coffee-cup @mehrmonga @blueberry64857959 @eiraethh @curseofhecate @alliwantisadonut @dark-night-sky-99 @i-wish-this-was-me @tallrock35 @butterfly-lover @barnestatic @landossainz @darleneslane @barcelonaloverf1life @r0nnsblog @ilove-tswizzle @laneyspaulding19 @malynn @viennakarma @landosgirlxoxo @marie0v @yourbane @teamnovalak @nikfigueiredo @fionaschicken @0picels0 @tinydeskwriter @ironmaiden1313 @splaterparty0-0 @formula1mount

[aftgficrec]

Favorite Neil/Jean or Neil&Jean fics?

In the aftermath of the publication of The Sunshine Court the relationship between Neil and Jean has been put under the spotlight a little more (no spoilers here though!), but there have always been authors who have shown this combo the attention it deserves. In addition, many fics under our raven!neil tag feature friendships or relationships between Neil and Jean. - S

Previously recommended:

Neil Josten & Jean Moreau:

close friends Neil & Jean here

BFFs Jean & Neil here

Neil/Jean tumblr fics and headcanons here

‘Afterthoughts Chapter 68’, ‘Jean, Neil, and Kevin hanging out’ here (plus some more Neil & Jean under previous recs)

‘not very good at this’ here

Neil Josten/Jean Moreau:

Neil/Jean fics here (you can also find a link to our Neil/Jean tag here)

More Jean/Neil fics here

‘we’ll survive, you and i’, ‘Heart on Your Sleeve, Eyes on the Street (the Heart-Eyes Remix)’, and ‘Doves & Ravens’  here

Some of our favourites from previous posts:

Your humble and silky life by moonix [Rated G, 3582 words, complete, 2019, locked]

Jean’s life these days is quiet, uneventful. His best friend has a hopeless crush on the unattainable Minyard, Jean’s colleague at the botanical garden. Jean has a standing appointment every week with the most beautiful woman in the world, who is happily married to someone else—but that’s okay. There’s still Jeremy the waiter, whose smile is the highlight of Jean’s week.

tw: animal death

Black As Is The Raven, He’ll Get A Partner by nekojita [Rated E, 644156 words, complete, 2018]

When Wymack, Kevin and Andrew came to recruit Neil Josten in Millport, Neil decided to say 'no' instead of 'yes' to joining the Foxes and does what he does best, which is run. Unfortunately, that brings him to the attention of the Moriyamas, who return him to his 'rightful' place. Now Neil has to learn how to survive at the Nest with his only ally another 'asset' long kept under Riko's heel.

tw: violence, tw: rape/noncon, tw: dubcon, tw: blood, tw: panic attacks, tw: drug use, tw: alcohol, tw: minor character death, tw: homophobia, tw: involuntary outing

Apart from Your World (A Part of Mine) by ApprenticedMagician [Rated T, 17647 words, complete, Aftg Big Bang 2018, locked]

David is shipping him off to the Isle of Anglesey and, frankly, Neil could use the time and distance away from an ugly break-up that still hasn't smoothed over. The problem is, if he isn't being reminded of his ex (courtesy of working alongside his identical twin brother), then he's being reminded of the mother who abandoned him (courtesy of their assigned patient who suffers the same affliction she once did). All around, it's shaping up to be anything but the trip he signed up for.

tw: references to past abuse

NB: find art for this fic by @llheji here

So Keep Your Heart On Your Sleeve (And Keep Your Eyes On The Streets) by CasTheButler [Rated T, 4162 words, complete, Aftg Winter Exchange 2018]

Cause it's a God damn long drive fall, Back to normality. Jean starts at a new school on a new soccer team, makes some friends, and spends the whole time falling in love with a punk. Written for the 2018 AFTG Winter Exchange.

tw: panic attacks

And here are some fics we haven’t rec’ed yet:

Neil Josten & Jean Moreau:

Je crois en la chance de rejoindre la mer by Elyant [Rated T, 2007 words, complete, 2021, locked]

Part 4 of The Devil Makes Three

Jean has chosen the café whose tables were closest to the large windows overlooking the tarmac. After spending so many years underground and under the harsh fluorescent light of the Nest, he doesn't think he will ever have enough of the natural warmth of the sun. A duffle bag of clothes that are too new to feel like his, the tin of home-baked cookies Renee thrusted into his hands before he left, and a small package wrapped in kraft paper are his only baggage.  He's waiting for a plane from London to land because of a phone call he received a few nights before. He is therefore purposefully two hours too early for the flight that will take him to South California, to meet the team in crimson and gold that will become his family, even if he doesn't know it yet.

tw: implied/referenced abuse

from rain by ratbandaid [Rated T, 62807 words, complete, 2023]

Over time, Jean grew unsure as to why he'd been so intent on running from the mafia. He barely took care of himself and could hardly call whatever he was doing living. After all, he knew that one day, he'll be caught and dragged back, kicking and screaming, to be killed or worse: put back in the hands of Riko Moriyama. But when a snot-nosed, cocky brat, Neil, stumbles into his life, Jean slowly realizes what he's running for.

tw: implied/referenced abuse, tw: implied/referenced child abuse, tw: violence, tw: nightmares

based on this art by @estavs

NB: This one contains slight spoilers for The Sunshine Court:

epic understatement by LadyTimelessness [Rated T, 335 words, complete, 2024]

he's pissed off that jean had to go through this. they're basically nothing to each other, but damn it, neil wants to crack grayson's skull open that second. faith in the world finally burns out in the fire of disillusionment.

tw: implied/referenced rape/noncon, tw: implied/referenced murder

Neil Josten/Jean Moreau:

Skip the Last Dance For Me (the Trojan Horse remix) by justadreamfox [Rated T, 3572 words, complete, Aftg Remix 2020]

Neil and Jean are free of the Nest, and wearing the Trojan red and gold, but they've still got "normal" life to navigate and friendships (past and present) to juggle. Really, sometimes you just want to be alone with your boyfriend.  Ft. Exy, pizza, and Steven Spielberg.

Nothing Mattered Until You by Lostintheuniverseslies [Rated M, 22497 words, complete, 2023]

On the docks in Marseille, Neil fell in love. But his mother ripped him away and for years he never dared hope to see Jean again. He believed that he would die before ever getting the chance. But when recuperating with his uncle after his father is killed, Neil's chance comes. Unfortunately, he isn't the only one who went through some horrible things over the years. Despite their horrible pasts, they decide to try for a future together. Going to college and even making some friends along the way. But Riko has other plans and wants back what he considers his.

tw: implied/referenced torture, tw: implied/referenced domestic violence, tw: stalking, tw: harassment,  tw: dissociation

It's Friday, I'm in love by Greenfallleaves [Rated T, 5834 words, complete, 2023, locked]

The day Neil had found himself pushed into the strong chest of their school’s new student Jean Moreau had been one of his luckiest in hindsight.

Hold my breath in your hands by Greenfallleaves [Rated G, 2154 words, complete, 2023, locked]

Adapting to the world outside the nest hadn’t been easy for either Jean or Neil but now that they had had a few years to get used to it, they got to complain about (i.e. enjoy) spending quality time with their friends.

sleep notes by nanatsuyu [Rated T, 2928 words, complete, 2024, locked]

Neil smokes a joint and discusses the possibility that Kevin is an honest to God vampire.

tw: recreational drug use, tw: implied/referenced abuse

A kiss while someone watches by @stabbyfoxandrew [tumblr, 2024]

Nathaniel never really saw the point of kissing until he was brought to the nest. Or rather, until the first time Jean Moreau backed him up against the wall of their shared dorm during an argument.

Art

Jean & Neil by @ziegenkind094

Raven!neil au - napping by @dawnatlas 

Raven!neil au - partners by @dawnatlas

‘Stitch by stitch, tape and gauze…’ by @dawnatlas

two by @02511213942

Neil and Jean find an empty pool at night by @aminiyard

i believe in jean moreau supremacy by @caraleadraws 

secret santa gift for @nekojitachan by @aminiyard

Hello sunshine court by @estavs

[brf-rumortrackinganon]

So how do you think Harry's kids got here? Do you think a surrogate was used? Do you think a donor egg and/or sperm was used?

I'm of the opinion a surrogate was used for both kids and that they might not be 100% their biological children. I know some people say Archie looks like August and Lili from her photo when she was one years old is supposed resemble the late Queen at that age. But people often see what they want when deciding who kids look like and kids can look like different people as their faces change.

You could go to any school in multiple countries and find a kid who looks just like Archie and we don't know what Lili looks like because whenever she's been "papped" the person apparently used the worse camera ever and their specially is blurry photos.

More importantly for me the question is why the BRF have played along is it just because they were afraid of being called racist if they said Archie isn't eligible to be in the line of succession? Do they not actually know whether a surrogate was used or do they simply not care?

For Harry and Meghan they should have been open about using a surrogate. They would have received so much support, there would be the conversation about whether people should use surrogates but the majority of the UK would've supported their decision to have a family. Funny thing is it would've made their kids special and got them the attention they wanted. Hiding all the details about the kids has resulted in no one caring about them or having any connection to them.

I would like the truth to be publicly known even it causes problems for the BRF. You won't generally find me defending members of the British aristocracy but if they have to adhere to the succession laws then so should members of the BRF.

I shared my thoughts on this several months ago (sometime between February - May 2024) but I haven't been able to dig that post up. I'll repeat what I said here but I will not be discussing this topic any futher after this gets posted.

What I said several months ago still remains true: Sometimes I think it was a gestational surrogate. Other times I think she really did carry Archie.

On the gestational surrogacy: Their story of Archie's birth, as told via Spare, gives me extraordinary pause because medically, none of what Harry says happened is/was possible. The lack of detail and/or sob story from Meghan also gives me pause. Consider the way she shouted from the mountaintops about her miscarriage in the New York Times. Now consider how silent she's been about her traumatic birth with Archie (according to Harry) or about how California's COVID protocols during her pregnancy with Lili may have affected her mental health. I specifically point out the latter because most of the women I know who were pregnant and/or gave birth between March 2020 - Summer 2021 talked a whole [fork] ton about the COVID protocols in place that made pregnancy an awfully lonely experience. Additionally, Meghan's desire for privacy on these experiences contradict her usual preference to compete with and/or one-up Kate. Since we know Kate had difficult pregnancies, we expect Meghan to either claim she had it worse (which Archie's traumatic birth as described by Harry in Spare definitely is, since KP's reports of the three Cambridge births were "textbook and uneventful") or her pregnancy was so easy, so straightforward, so textbook, so uneventful that she was literally a goddess of pregnancy. But yet Meghan has remained suspiciously silent, even when she's doing her "as the momest mom to ever mom" PR.

On the "Meghan really carried Archie" side: I have a cousin who's as thin as Meghan was pre-Archie, right down to the ankles that could snap. Like Meghan, my cousin's only weight gain during both of her pregnancies was in her belly/baby bump. So I know it's possible for some women to gain no weight but the baby bump. And second, Meghan did gain weight during her third trimester - she was noticeably fuller in her face at the Windsor presentation and had a noticeably fuller body at Trooping and Wimbledon and appeared to struggle losing the weight until spring 2022/Platinum Jubilee. We know that Meghan is incredibly vain to where she wouldn't have gained all that extra weight without good reason - after all, she made Trevor sign a pre-pregnancy contract listing her demands / requirements to get her body back should they have a baby.

Now to your questions:

is why the BRF have played along is it just because they were afraid of being called racist if they said Archie isn't eligible to be in the line of succession? Do they not actually know whether a surrogate was used or do they simply not care?

I've already covered this here. I think you can find it under the surrogacy tag. So I won't go into too much here.

My theory for why the BRF played along is because they didn't know there was a surrogate until it was too late and by then, they were already trapped in the scheme so they had no choice but to go along. Presenting their schemes as faint accompli has been Sussex MO for a very long time, with no one developing a spine until they demanded to commercialize the monarchy.

My theory for why the BRF continues to play along is because Charles is somehow involved and/or implicated and that truth coming out would lead to a scandalously huge lapse in confidence that could only be reconciled by his abdication to William. Charles has waited too long to be top dog to let anything get in his way and I suspect that we'll only find out the truth (or even a partial truth) if Clarence House finds a way to untangle Charles from it.

As I said at the beginning of this post, I won't be discussing this anymore and will not be posting any asks resulting from this. You're free to discuss in comments or reblogs, though.

[queen-scribbles]

The Long Burning Torch ch 10

It's heeeeere! Final(!!!) chapter of my @shepherds-of-haven 1920s fic. Ty to Lena for her amazing characters and the Summer AU event in 2021 that kicked this off, and to @emeraldgreaves for being my obscure info diver when I didn't have time to replay large chunks of the game looking for details <333 ---

The walk to Whitestone Couriers was blessedly uneventful. Xaeryn neither needed nor wanted more excitement today. Tonight. Even more fortunate than the quiet walk, Mr. Syndran was just emerging from the building as she reached it.

He paused with one hand on the door, leaving it half-open. "Miss Shrike. Should I take your arrival at this hour to mean what I think?"

She tapped the blanker box tucked under her. "I found it, safe and sound."

"Excellent!" Mr. Syndran wasn't the type to be described as beaming, but he certainly looked pleased as he pushed the door open. "Though I do have to wonder why your first instinct was to bring it here at this hour."

"I gambled on your or Ms. Aerin working late," Xaeryn explained as she followed him to his office. "With how long it's taken to track this darb down, I thought you might want it secured as quickly as possible." I didn't want to risk holding on to it any longer than I have to, God only knows what baloney might happen. Jarkyth did get away...

"You aren't wrong there." He leaned his walking stick against the edge of the desk and gave her a keen look. "Miss Shrike, you look nearly dead on your feet, sit down."

"You aren't wrong there," she said wryly, dropping into the chair he indicated without protest. Which was a mistake; she could feel exhaustion dragging at her as the adrenaline finally faded. Hopefully she'd make it back to her feet. "It's been a long day."

"Then I'll try not to make it that much longer." Mr. Syndran set down his keys and turned to open the safe. "But I would be interested in hearing at least high points of your success."

What made it take so long to find, in other words, she thought running a hand over her hair. "It was stolen by the king of Elinden, who fancies himself the rightful owner and planned to use it as proof of his connection to the land as he established a stronghold in the Jalis desert." Xaeryn handed over the case with the Torch and leaned forward, steepling her fingers. "He also seemed to buy all the... mythology surrounding it; believe it offered luck and protection."

"Hmm," Mr. Syndran sniffed. "Superstition..." He opened the case and nodded in satisfaction seeing the Torch within. The case itself caught his attention, and he examined it for a moment, as if he could tell there was something special about it.

"Belief is a powerful thing," Xaeryn shrugged. "Whether it's truth or folly." She rubbed the back of her neck, still sore from tussling with Heron. She was going to be very stiff come morning. Hate to think how that would've gone with him at full strength. "They'd found a place to hole up in Ashtown--"

"Of course," he snorted as he set the case in the safe and spun the lock.

"--using an abandoned warehouse," Xaeryn continued, stifling a yawn. "But we were able to follow some of King Kaza's people, find and retrieve the Torch" --and Red-- "and catch... most of them."

He tensed. "We?"

"Free agents and the Shepherds," she clarified with a wave of one hand. "Not the buttons; I remember my contract."

Mr. Syndran pursed his lips and returned to the desk, sitting in his chair. "You say most were apprehended...?"

"Unfortunately, the... financier slipped away while we were subduing the king and his brunos," she said carefully. She didn't want to go blabbing everywhere the Western Hierophant was involved. "He stood to gain valuable trade contracts from helping pull this off, but decided to cut his losses when things started turning against their success."

"Hmm, a pity. But you recovered the artefact, as contracted, and caught most of those responsible." He opened a drawer, withdrew his checkbook, and filled one out to pass to her. "The rest of your base fee." He watched her stifle another yawn as she took it. "I presume you would like some rest and time to collect receipts before we settle the reimbursement of incurred expenses?"

"You presume correctly." She had most things documented together already, but she did want sleep. She confirmed the amount, shifted to tuck the payment in her handbag--

--and was abruptly(rudely) reminded her handbag was still laying in one of the warehouse hallways. Damn it all, she didn't want to go back there. Not tonight. She just wanted to sleep. "And I presume you'll want that in the books as a separate expense from my fee, in case any questions are raised?"

"You presume correctly." He folded his hands an studied her. "I do have some meetings tomorrow, and will now also have to arrange returning Solimer's Torch to the Hall... Does eight thirty work for you?"

I'll make it work. She wanted this done with before she and Red talked, mainly to minimize the risk of being interrupted. But given how tired he'd looked, she was probably safe until eight thirty. "Yes, that'll be fine. Now, if you'll excuse me...?" She pushed to her feet.

"Of course, Miss Shrike." Mr. Syndran rose as well and bowed his gratitude. "I thank you for a job well done, and release you to go get some sleep."

"Thank you. See you tomorrow." Unfortunately, there was one more thing to do before she could sleep. Some of the things in her handbag were too vital to leave laying in a warehouse all night. Xaeryn sighed as she exited the building and retraced her steps to Ashtown.

---

She didn't find her handbag, which was highly annoying, despite looking both where she dropped it and in the surrounding area. She even peeked in a couple of the rooms to make sure it hadn't been kicked off somewhere in all the bustle. Still no luck, which left her with hoping one of the Shepherds or Briony or someone had found it and planned to return it. She was too tired to tear the whole warehouse apart, no matter how annoying it might be to replace some of the contents.

Fortunately her keys still hung around her neck, so Xaeryn was able to get in her place.

To find she had a visitor--seated behind her desk. With his feet up.

"Hey, sunshine," Chase Trinaeste grinned.

Xaeryn was too tired to do anything but stare at him and wait for an explanation, one brow arching.

His grin widened. "Oh, apologies; Miss Shrike."

"Chase. What can I do for you?"

He straightened in her chair. "Heard you just closed your big case. Made quite the ruckus, actually."

"I imagine it did." Xaeryn crossed her arms. That was fast. "Doesn't explain why you're here."

"Just settling accounts," Chase said, still grinning.

She'd figured as much. Couldn't this wait for morning? "I remember our arrangement," she said around a yawn. "One favor, as you did help, but I ultimately found what I was after though other avenues."

"Smart dame," he chuckled.

"I appreciate your help regardless," Xaeryn clarified. "Whatever your motives for giving it."

"Very smart dame." Chase pushed to his feet and headed back to the window, still open from his entrance. "Just make sure you keep remembering, Miss Shrike. Thieves Guild will, and we'll collect someday."

"Oh, I've no doubt of that."

He grinned at her deadpan comment and gave a dramatic bow before he vanished out the window.

Xaeryn pushed it closed and double checked the lock. It's always something with this job... she mused, heading for her bedroom. Too tired to even bother with nightclothes, she kicked off her shoes and flopped across the bed. out before she could even wrap the blanket around her with dim thoughts of not moving until she absolutely had to.

---

The internal clock that was gift and curse in equal measure woke her at eight, fortunately less sore than anticipated. Just enough time to freshen up, change, and maybe eat a little breakfast before Mr. Syndran showed up. Something simple like toast and jam. He would understand if she was still drinking her khav when he arrived, surely.

In high spirits from her success--among other things--she decided to wear the dress she'd eschewed the day before; golden yellow with red and navy embroidery. No need for trips into Ashtown or blending in or foot chases today. And if the dress happened to look fantastic on her, well. A gal was allowed to feel good about herself, especially after a success like last night.

Xaeryn dressed, then freshened up her hair and makeup while the breakfast was toasting. She had time to eat while tallying expenses, but was indeed only halfway through her khav when Mr. Syndran's familiar knock came against the door.

He entered when she called to him, inclining his head as he closed the door behind him. "Good morning, Miss Shrike."

"And to you, Mr. Syndran. I'm just about done with the expenses if you want to look it over."

"You've figured me well," he approaching to sit in one of the chairs facing her desk.

"It's just good business sense to verify," Xaeryn returned with a smile. She took the plate into the kitchen while he studied the ledger lines for this case.

He was frowning at one particular line when she returned. "Contract TG? Could I get some details on this expense, Miss Shrike?"

Xaeryn sighed and braced herself. She'd expected him to zero in on that; there weren't many expenses claimable for this, and that one was more than twice all the others. "Once my evidence pointed toward Ashtown, I... arranged to have Thieves Guild look out for anything hinky. It's their haunt, I figured they would note things I--or anyone else--might miss."

Mr. Syndran's expression flattened. "That strikes me as an unnecessary measure, Miss Shrike, and I don't see how it is our responsibility to finance you outsourcing yours."

"I understand there's... fraught history between Merchants and Thieves Guilds," Xaeryn said with a tight smile. Doesn't mean I'll let you weasel out of paying something I'm owed. "But they gave me information that led to the warehouse where I recovered the Torch. Without their help and knowledge, Mr. Syndran, I would still be looking. And you would be approaching the point of needing to contact the proper authorities, thus damaging your guild's reputation as you sought to avoid," she pointed out. "I'm only asking for partial reimbursement; I recognize the choice to use them was my own."

She didn't mention the pleasure Chase had derived from knowing this exact scenario would arise. It wouldn't improve Mr. Syndran's mood or her odds of getting paid back.

His lips thinned. "Oh, very well. Is this the full amount, or the percentage you're claiming for reimbursement?"

"Full amount. I'm willing to take fifty percent, cover half of it myself."

He nodded, still looking displeased with the fact, and continued through the expenditures. He didn't bat an eye at the 'asst. bribes' or standard fuel reimbursement for the drives to Capra. However much she'd enjoyed bumping gums with Red, those were case-related trips, and there was law on the books far as rate went for reimbursing that.

It did surprise her when he raised less fuss over her including partial reimbursement for her gala dress than he had the Thieves Guild contract. But then, she'd attached a receipt for that and it was clear she'd both bought the least expensive dress she could get away with for such an event, and wasn't asking for all the money back. She was keeping the dress, and if she ever attended anything that fancy again, could re-wear it. And it had gotten a bit mussed when that bruno came after her, she couldn't have returned it if she wanted to.

"You know, I went to the Hall before here," Mr. Syndran commented as he confirmed her arithmetic and wrote the check. "Curator Acquell was most effusive in her thanks for the return of the missing artefact."

"Glad to hear it." Xaeryn tucked the check in a drawer thanks to the absence of her handbag, then smiled when he lingered, hands folded atop his walking stick. "Did you want some more details of the recovery, Mr. Syndran? Or do your other meetings beckon?"

"They do, but I have some time to hear more specifics of last night's events." He gestured for her to go on.

"Alright, then." She settled in her chair and began with Red's abduction, through her scrying and trailing King Kaza. It was tricky to balance explaining Briony and Darius' involvement without being too detailed. They had been instrumental, but she didn't know how comfortable they'd be with her oversharing. Mr. Syndran listened to all the details with rapt attention, and Xaeryn had a suspicion he gleaned from the words far more than she actually said.

He rose at the end, satisfied expression still sour at the edges over the Thieves Guild involvement. "A thrilling chain of events, Miss Shrike, and one I am most grateful resulted in your success. You did a fine job in this case, and I will keep you in mind should I ever require similar skills in the future."

"Glad to hear it made a good impression." She rose to shake his hand. "You were definitely one of my better clients, one I wouldn't mind working for again should the need arise."

"High praise from one with your reputation," Mr. Syndran chuckled. He shook her hand then bowed. "Farewell, Miss Shrike."

Xaeryn returned the bow. "Farewell, Mr. Syndran."

She walked him to the door, inclined her head in a final farewell, and waited until he'd started down the hall to close the door and return to her desk.

Her khav had gotten cold while she was recounting the night's events. She pursed her lips but decided there was little enough left to be no great loss and set it aside. Now to decide if a nap or some other method would be best for filling some of her time until Red came by. Given she'd--potentially--lost another notepad, there wasn't much she could do for case wrap-up. Maybe a nap was the best option...

She was startled awake by enthusiastic knocking on her door. Apparently the deliberation had been taken out of her hands.

"You can come in," she called, rubbing her eyes and stretching until now-sore spots complained.

The door banged open and a familiar pink-haired figure grinned at her. "I'm glad you were here!"

"Where else did you imagine I would be?" Xaeryn asked drolly as she stood and circled the desk.

"I dunno, the museum or your client's office or something." Briony shrugged. "Glad I didn't hafta chase you down; I have somethin' of yours." She thrust out her hand, clasped around Xaeryn's missing, somewhat scuffed, handbag. "Hope everything's there, though I did take out my little ahfuri," she laughed. "Hope that's alright."

"Of course, and thank you so much." Xaeryn couldn't help a smile as she took the handbag. "I realized I lost it after I left, went back to look--"

"Oh, I'm sorry I took it so you wasted the time, then." Briony's expression screwed into something remorseful and she tugged her ponytail.

"No, no, I'm glad it was with someone trustworthy, rather than just laying there." She poked through to confirm none of the important things were missing.

"That's what I was figuring," Briony said with a relieved laugh. "Wouldn't want some goon findin' it when I could keep it safe. And I know where your office is so I could bring it back."

Driving license, PI license, dagger, notepad. All here. "Thank you, again." Xaeryn set the handbag on her desk. "So, what plans do you and Darius have now that King Kaza is arrested and no longer in possession of Solimer's Torch?"

Briony grinned fiercely. "Still a wonderful string of words to hear, even if I was there when it happened." She wrinkled her nose. "And Jarkyth breezed."

"That's how it plays out sometimes. And you were a key part of making it happen as well as it did," Xaeryn corrected.

"Yeah, you're a gem," Briony waved off the praise. "We'll hafta go back to Elinden, fan this in to somethin' worth deposing that muti as king. Then sort out succession." She grimaced. "Might be headin' for another civil war, which isn't great, but even if it comes to that, hopefully we'll end up with someone better in charge. But..." She hesitated, bit her lip. "I was talkin' to the Shepherds, y'know, last night, and it sounds like they do good work. Lots of adventure. Stoppin' people like Jarkyth and Kaza. I dunno, maybe once Elinden's settled I'll be back." She smirked. "Hael, I'll even bring D with me if he wants and behaves himself."

Xaeryn chuckled. "Is that even something he's interested in?"

"Dunno, we'll have to talk about it." Briony shrugged and twirled her ponytail. "But Elinden's our home, and we've been fightin' for it a while now, need to get that sorted b'fore we consider anything else."

"Very true." Xaeryn leaned against the edge of the desk. "Are you staying in Haven a while or heading straight back?"

"We have to stay a couple more days to give some more details about what we know of the theft. They'll prob'ly want to chin with you about it, too, by the way."

She nodded, assuming from context 'they' meant the Shepherds. As long as it didn't interfere with her talking to Red, she'd be happy to tell them anything that would help. "Understandable."

Briony bounced a little on her toes. "I should be going. The hotel concierge gave me a whole list of places to go for sightseein', and if I have to stay here a few more days, I wanna see as many as possible."

Xaeryn couldn't help a chuckle at the other woman's enthusiasm. "Make sure you enjoy the ones you get to see, rather than rushing through."

Briony nodded, making her ponytail bounce. "I know. Hey, since you live here--" She tugged a piece of paper from her pocket, smoothed it on Xaeryn's desk "--any of these more must-see than others? It's such a big city," she laughed, "and I wanna make sure I see all the pretty stuff."

Xaeryn examined the list; preprinted on paper with a monogram from one of Haven's nicer hotels at the top. A few things had been crossed off already. "Well, if you're looking for pretty, you have to see Whitestone Cathedral. Even if you aren't religious, the architecture and stained glass windows are quite a sight." She marked a few others she thought would be good choices, from what she knew of Briony, to prioritize. "There you are."

"Thank you!" Briony picked up the list, folded it neatly this time, and gave Xaeryn a quick but ferocious hug. "And thanks again for helping with... everything."

"Of course," Xaeryn mumbled, caught off-guard by the hug. She didn't react fast enough to return it, but Briony didn't seem to notice. "I hope you have fun."

"I plan to!" Briony said brightly. She fluttered her fingers in a wave as she started for the door. "See you around, Xaeryn."

She nodded. It wouldn't surprise her if she did. "Tell Darius goodbye for me, hmm?"

"Sure," Briony grinned, and was gone with an enthusiastic slam of Xaeryn's door.

Xaeryn blew out a breath and rubbed the back of her neck. How does she have so much energy when it sounds like she was up even later than I was?

One of life's mysteries. She took advantage of being on her feet to tidy her kitchen from preparing breakfast. Her stomach growled, so she grabbed an apple to snack on as she headed back to her desk. She dug her notepad out of the handbag, spilling some of the other contents, but didn't mind the mess. She should probably swap handbags and clean this one with the state it was in. Right now she wanted to add a few final notes for this case while they were fresh in her mind.

Xaeryn glanced at the clock as she bit into the apple, surprised to see how much of the morning she'd napped away before Briony's arrival No wonder I had a crick in my neck. She bobbled the pencil she'd picked up back and forth and wondered if Red was still sleeping. Part of her hoped so. Yesterday had to have been even more of an ordeal for him than it had been for her.

The other part of her desperately, selfishly wanted to talk to him. Both as further assurance he really was alright and because there were thing she--they--needed to get in the open, had needed in the open since the gala at the very least.

"Nothing happened."

"Did you want it to?"

She shook off Pan's haunting question and bit into the apple again as she turned her attention to scribbling down closing notes. Her discovery of the Torch being thoret. Confirmation of who was involved with the theft. The Shepherds' role in the conclusion. She'd just finished notes and apple both when there was a flurried knock at the door.

Oh, One-God-- Her heart had dropped to her toes and she was halfway to her feet before she reined in her emotions. That knock was too light to be him.

Still, curiosity and manners had her crossing the room to open the door, and she blinked in surprise. "Miss Acquell?"

The museum curator beamed up at her from under the rim of a beige cloche hat with a pink flower embellishment, not appearing to notice her slip back to formality. "Sorry if I'm disturbing you, Miss Shrike, I know I had Mr. Syndran convey my gratitude, but I just had to come thank you in person for recovering Solimer's Torch."

Xaeryn smiled and stepped out of the doorway to let her enter the office. "You're very welcome. I imagine it's gratifying to have a completed collection now?"

"Oh, yes." Miss Acquell clasped her hands together ass if to keep them still. "We had to do some rearranging to work it into the exhibit, and I have Justyn trying to get hold of Ms. Aescar to let her know, but it's just berries having it back, such a weight off my shoulders." Her face colored. "Sorry for babbling, I'm just so grateful to have it back."

"You don't have to apologize for being happy. I'm glad I could be a help," Xaeryn said. "Did Mr. Syndran relay that the Torch is thoret and shouldn't be displayed too close to any magical artefacts? I know the museum uses shielded cases, but-"

"Oh, no, he didn't." Miss Acquell was frowning now.

Xaeryn paused, racking her brain. "Now that I think about it, I don't believe I told him that part, not last night at least. I was very tired and it may have slipped my mind. I do apologize for that." Hopefully the revelation wouldn't make too much extra work for the staff.

"Oh, it's alright." Miss Acquell waved off her apology in turn. "It's good to have it back, whatever we have to do to display it, we'll accommodate." She smiled again. "You are, of course, welcome to come see the exhibit any time."

"Since I'm finished with the case, I should have time to do that. I'd love to see it in all its glory, and under more leisurely circumstances than the gala." She'd been working that night, technically, even if she and Red had taken time to look around while they were there.

"We'd be happy to see you." Miss Acquell fidgeted with the sleeve of her jacket, picking at one curve of the lace trim. "I should get back, I just wanted to come say thank you; it didn't feel like enough to have someone pass it along."

"Well, you're very welcome, again," Xaeryn said with a chuckle. "I'm glad I could help." She held out a hand to shake.

Miss Acquell only hesitated a moment before taking it in a loose grip for a single shake. She rocked on the balls of her feet and bit her lip, hands once again clasped as if to still them. "Well, I'll see you around then, Miss Shrike."

"Sounds keen." She shifted to follow as the curator edged toward the half-open door. "Goodbye, Shery-"

Even as she spoke, there was a faint--but familiar--rushing sound and Red was standing in the hallway outside her office, one hand out to brace against the wall. He smiled sheepishly upon seeing Miss Acquell's startled expression. "Sorry! Shery, right? Good to see you again."

"A-And you," she managed. "But I was just leaving." She bobbed a curtsy to them both and scurried away.

"I hope I didn't scare her..." Red muttered. "I didn't think you'd have company."

"I have been dizzyingly popular this morning," Xaeryn said with a soft laugh, trying to ignore the way her heart had lodged in her throat. She'd had a plan for this, and it was completely flown away. "Did you really Travel just to cover half a city's distance, Liefred?"

He shrugged and ran his fingers through his hair. "It seemed faster than getting lost in Ashtown. That district is a maze. Why waste the time?"

She just shook her head with a fond smile as she led the way back into the office, trying to study him without being too obvious about it. There was no evidence of injuries beyond the minor ones she'd noted last night; scrapes, the split lip--which had scabbed over but was likely to reopening if he kept bothering it. Just over the couple minutes since his arrival, he'd scraped his teeth over it and sucked it in, probably to worry the scab with his tongue. Aside from not being good for the healing process, it was intensely distracting for her.

Even worse when Red caught her staring. He cleared his throat and leaned against her desk. "Exactly how early were you up that you had time to be dizzyingly popular, Xaer?"

"Around eight," she said, picking a hangnail. "Mr. Syndran needed an early appointment to finish settling accounts for it to fit with his schedule."

"Mm, yes, have to make sure you're rewarded for being a brilliant snooper," Red teased, his smile warm, half-distracted as he tried to read her notes sideways.

It was adorable watching him twist his head to decipher the shorthand, she she let him continue. His clothes were borrowed, she noted, and from someone not quite his height. The trousers were only about an inch shorter than proper, but even with the shirtsleeves rolled up, she could tell they would stop well short of his wrists, and it was tight in the shoulders as he leaned over her desk.

"I am surprised to see you before noo-" Xaeryn started to tease, before a glance at the clock showed it was, in fact, nearly noon.

He huffed a laugh, still reading. "You know I don't need a lot of sleep, Xaer."

"I know you can function on not a lot of sleep," she corrected. "But I figured between getting abducted and however late you you were up talking to the Shepherds, you would, perhaps, listen to your body for once. More the fool I, apparently."

"I only woke up five minutes before coming here, Ryn," he countered fondly. "Plenty of sleep. And I can always get more once I'm back at Solhadur--" He cut himself off, brows arching. "Thoret?" Looked up at her. "Solimer's Torch is composed of thoret?!"

Xaeryn nodded. "The original stone, at least. Obviously the decorative binding is different, but the stone itself is either thoret or some other rock heavily shot with it." She flexed her fingers. "Quite a fun discovery to make when I picked it up bare-handed."

Red winced in sympathy, bit his lip, winced again when the gesture caught the edge of the scab. "That does explain some things..."

"Mm. Why I couldn't scry on it, for one, or anything near it. Why you weren't able to escape the same way you just dropped in here..."

"Yes to all that, it also felt odd in that building; like the crawling edge of nausea, but I was thinking more historically."

Of course you were.

"Far as records show, the Solimer tribe almost never had Mages, so the Torch wouldn't have affected them in any special way. They tended to do their own thing and steer clear of other tribes, but the times they did come into conflict, single combat between chosen champions was the method of the time, and I'd bet the other tribes were more abundant in Mages, so if they, say, sent one as their champion..."

"... the Torch would act as an anti-magic ward," Xaeryn finished, "making it seem Solimer's champions were protected."

"I'd bet half my library, assuming that premise is correct, the tribe that defeated them sent a non-Mage champion for a fight." Red dragged his fingers through his hair and sat on the corner of the desk, despite two perfectly good chairs nearby. "And then it disappears for stretches because tribes would want to hold it for the victory it symbolized, but if there were enough Mages , they would feel the oddness and want it kept pack away... Too bad there's no way to prove it; it would pull in some real keen funding for more research if it's solid..."

"And, alternately, I could get my hands on half your library," Xaeryn needled, biting back a smile as she leaned against the desk next to him.

He gave a faux-hurt gasp. "Detective Shrike, you think I'm wrong?"

"Oh, probably not. You are almost as smart as I am," she teased back, "but your library's the bee's knees, and I'd love to get my hands on as much of it as I could fit in here."

"Mm, well, in absence of a way to prove me wrong," he said lightly, gaze surveying her mostly-full bookshelves rather than look at her, "you'll just have to come visit Solhadur to take advantage."

If I drive all the way to Capra, it's not the library I'll want to take advantage of. She cleared her throat. "I suppose I will, once my schedule's calm enough to take that kind of time."

"Oh, yes, your dizzying popularity," Red teased. He knew her preference for solitude. "You mentioned Mr. Syndran, and I saw Shery, who else...?"

"Before you? Just Briony, the pink-haired woman--"

"I remember." He nodded.

"I dropped my handbag at the warehouse when one of Kaza's mugs grabbed me, she was returning it."

Red flicked a glance toward the handbag and its contents. "I was wondering why it was strewn across your desk... Sorry I didn't realize you'd lost it, Ryn, or I would've looked--"

She waved off the apology. "I got it back and that's the important thing. You were understandably distracted." A self-deprecating chuckle. "I'm just happy I didn't lose two notepads in the course of one case."

"Oh!" Red started, pushing off the desk. "That reminds me... One thing I did find in there….” the words trailed off as he dug in his pocket. “I forgot to give it to you with all the chaos.” He pulled out her original notepad, the bluish-grey cover slightly worse for wear from its own adventure, and offered it to her.

Xaeryn gasped in delight as she took it. Kaza had hinted at having it, but she hadn’t thought to look with everything going on. “I can’t believe you found this! I thought it was gone forever.” She smiled and pivoted to wrap him in a tight hug. “Thank you, Liefred.”

Something flickered in Red's eyes before he hugged her back, fiercely, hands lingering, as if remembering yesterday, then withdrew. “I... wanted to ask you about something, Xaer.”

“Mm,” she prompted, still smiling, as she tucked the reclaimed notepad in her desk.

“I wasn't going to bring it up, but... You call Pan Pan because that’s his nickname. You called the museum curator Shery, I presume because she asked you to?” He tipped his head in a gesture toward where he’d just seen said curator and waited for her slight nod of confirmation. “So if you’ll take that step toward familiarity with them, why am I always Liefred when we’ve known each other for ages and I’ve told you, several times, you can call me Red?”

Her throat closed up and heart stuttered in her chest. There wasn’t any judgment in his tone, just curiosity, and maybe a little hurt. She’d been half-wondering if he’d picked up on that enough to bring it up again, and now she had her answer. There were several ways she, in turn, could answer his very good, very pertinent, question. Two of them were deflections. They would let her preserve friendly, professional distance. Remove the risk of gambling it all.

She didn’t want to give either of those. She wanted to tell the truth. The whole truth. 

We did say we wanted to talk about this.

Deep breath, Xaeryn.

“I told you,” Xaeryn said softly, “after the gala.” She swallowed hard, heart pounding. “It might be selfish, but the formality’s a level of check on myself so I don’t slip and do something dreadfully improper.” 

Red worried the scab on his lip with his thumb, considering. “What makes you so sure it would be improper?” he asked just as softly.

She laughed, a tight, breathless sound, and decided there had been enough hints dropped for the plunge to be worth it. “It’s fairly improper to kiss someone out of the blue without their permission, Liefred.”

She didn’t miss the way his breath caught, or how hard he swallowed before he reached for her hand, slowly, gently, as if trying not to spook a skittish ahfuri. “And… if you had their permission? Would it be proper then?”

Oh, One-God above, she couldn’t breathe. She couldn’t. Her heart was pounding fit to crack her ribs. Her hand slipped into his like it belonged there.

“Do I?” she asked hoarsely, barely audible, gaze locked with his.

Red nodded and she was kissing him before any potential verbal confirmation had a chance to follow.

And he was kissing her back. At least until the cut on his lip reopened and he was forced to pull back. “Dammit,” he grumbled under his breath.

“It’s alright.” Xaeryn kissed his cheek, the giggle that escaped her only an inkling of the joy that bubbled in her chest. “I’ve waited this long, another sennight or two for you to heal won’t kill me.”

Red arched a brow, smile tugging at the side of his mouth furthest from the cut. “Is it egotistical of me to ask how long you’ve been wanting to do that?”

“Not at all,” she said with a laugh, watching him feel the cut and scowl at the blood on his fingers when he pulled them away. “Only if you promise you won’t laugh at me for being pathetic.” When he nodded agreement, she took a deep breath, flashed a sheepish smile, and confessed. “Since about when I was sixteen.”

Red burst out laughing.

Xaeryn huffed and moved to whack his arm. “You said you wouldn’t-”

“I’m not laughing at-ow-you, Xaer,” he assured her, catching her wrist with one hand while the heel of the other pressed against his split lip. “I’m laughing at me.”

She let her hand fall and shot him a curious look. “Why?”

Red raked the now-free hand through his hair, huffed another quiet laugh, and smiled at her with such wry amusement it almost made her laugh. “Because I’ve been at least half in love with you since sixteen and like an idiot didn’t say anything b’cause I didn’t think you felt the same-”

She kissed him again, split lip or no, she couldn’t help it.

“Ow,” he mumbled–or something like it–but he was smiling and he didn’t stop. His hand curved the back of her neck and hers curled into the collar of his shirt.

She could taste the metallic tang of blood from his lip until they parted with matching breathless laughs.

"So much for waiting another sennight or two," Red teased, lightly bumping his forehead to hers.

Xaeryn rolled her eyes, still holding him close by the shirt collar. "That was for fortification. Now I'll survive, I think."

He chuckled, thumb rubbing her cheek. "Fair enough. So, what now?"

She opened her mouth to reply, this was hardly familiar ground for her, but his stomach beat her to it, rumbling loudly. She arched a brow. "Food, apparently. Did you eat before coming over?"

"I didn't know where the Shepherds' dining hall was," he said with a sheepish shrug. "And you were more important."

Xaeryn shook her head and lightly smacked the back of his. "Honestly, Red--" she sighed in fond exasperation, grinning despite herself at the warmth of his words. "Fortunately for you, there's a fabulous café nearby, and I'm in the mood to treat for lunch."

Red smiled, warm and wide, eyes crinkling at the corners. "That is good luck."

"The only question is whether I should go order food to bring back and we can chin a bit here, or go cause a scandal eating there with you so underdressed--" she cut herself off, abruptly stepping around him to pick up the jacket tossed over one of the chairs by her bookshelf. His jacket, slightly rumpled from spending the night haphazardly tossed aside, but it would fit, and the deep grey charcoal color would complement the lighter grey of his borrowed trousers.

Red arched a brow, his eyes twinkling. "Should I be curious why you have my clothes, Ryn?"

"It was for scrying, Liefred," she said archly. "Trying to find you. Pan said I could--" Xaeryn stiffened. "Did you let him know you're alright? Because it completely slipped my mind with--"

"Yes," Red cut across her worry with a smile. "Last thing before I collapsed into bed." He laughed and ran a hand down his face. "I think I'm in for an earful when I get back to Solhadur, so however leisurely you want to make this lunch is keen with me."

Xaeryn smiled fondly as she gathered her handbag's content back into it. She'd worry about swapping it later. "I think you're in for a Panrachus-shaped shadow the next couple months," she corrected, biting back giddy butterflies as she looped her arm through his. "He was real worried with not much he could do to help, wondering if he'd stayed up to help you would it have prevented your abduction."

A shadow passed over his face as they stepped out the door. "I don't think it would've."

Knowing Heron had been involved, it wasn't hard to read the implication in his tone. "Which is what I told him." She paused to lock the door. "But you know how it is when you care about someone; something bad happens and you cant help wondering if you could've changed it."

Red nodded, giving her a warm smile. "I know." His stomach rumbled again.

Xaeryn chuckled and gave his arm a squeeze. "Let's get some food in you."

"That'd be the bee's knees."

---

It wasn't a far walk to find themselves swept up in the lunchtime bustle of her favorite café. The place was so full, the two of them wound up at a table tucked in the corner that didn't have nearly enough room for their legs. Xaeryn almost suggested taking the food back to her place, but she was still giddy over this being a date with Red and could bring herself to. It would be memorable, and the corner was a little quieter than the main lunchroom.

Red polished off two sandwiches and a large bowl of soup, barely slowing through the process. Xaeryn found her abbreviated breakfast had left her with more of an appetite than usual, though she still didn't equal him.

"I think, perhaps, food should have been a higher priority," she commented lightly. "Flattered as I am you rated me so important."

"I wasn't terribly hungry when I woke up," Red confessed, sucking a stray drop of soup off his thumb. "I considered breakfast, decided I didn't need it, didn't care to hunt down the dining hall, and was too antsy by half to talk to you."

"We were... rather overdue for that conversation, weren't we?" Xaeryn said, sliding her hand across the table to cover his.

"A bit," Red nodded. He sucked on his split lip a moment. "Xaer, about after the gala..."

"Oh, I would've kissed you, proper or no, had Pan not walked in when he did." A bit reckless a confession after all her worries about propriety, but she was too giddy to care.

He chuckled. "Good to know we're on the same page." A pause. "And you've... since sixteen? You're always so forthright, I'm both surprised and impressed you kept that under wraps so long."

"Well, you know..." She sighed, her heart fluttering as she rubbed her thumb over his hand. "I didn't want to risk messing up our friendship. I'm well aware I can be prickly and hard to get to know. You were one of the few who made it past the brambles and seemed to enjoy my company as much as I enjoy yours--"

"I do enjoy your company," Red interrupted.

"That's my point; I don't, and didn't, have many friends like that." She squeezed his hand. "The last thing I wanted to do was poison that by adding awkwardness of unreciprocated feelings. I was happy enough just having you as my friend."

"Even watching me date my way through the student body?" he asked wryly.

"Liefred, you're smart, handsome, charming, and kind." She shrugged. "I would have been offended on your behalf had any of them turned you down. But your turn--why did you say anything?"

"Because you're forthright, Ryn." Red turned his hand under hers and gave it a squeeze. "I may've thought about it a couple times, but... You've never held back from saying things that are important, or that you think I need to hear. I figured the reason you weren't saying anything is there was nothing to say on the matter. So I kept hoping if I told myself that enough times it would sink in and the feelings would fade, but they never did."

A pang of guilt surged in her chest. If she'd just made herself push the words past the lump that formed in her throat every time she tried...

"Xaeryn." He squeezed her hand harder, clearly sensing the turn of her thoughts. "Me resigning myself to that is not your fault. It was my choice not to say anything just as much as it was yours." He smiled, sheepish and boyish all in one. "Pair of brilliant idiots, we."

Xaeryn laughed, because he was right. Solhadur's best and brightest and couldn't even parse they were in love with each other. "Did..." She traced the rim of her glass. "Did any of those 'dating your way through the student body' have... potential?" She might hate herself for asking, but her curiosity demanded satisfaction. How close did I come to losing you to my own cowardice?

"Most were just fun, and we both knew it going in," Red said, rubbing the back of his neck. "There were a couple that might've gotten serious if... well, carrying a torch for my best friend was only one of the reasons nothing came of them in the end."

She nodded thoughtfully and glanced around the café. It was still full and they were done. "We should head back, free up a table."

He gave a distracted-sounding hum of agreement and pushed to his feet as she left a generous tip on the table. "Thanks for lunch."

"Of course." Xaeryn twined her arm through his and headed for the door. It wasn't until they were out on the street she spoke again, her shoulder pressed close to his. "D'you know how many times I almost asked you to come with me when I left?" A quiet laugh. "At least a dozen. But I always lost my nerve."

"That would have been fun," he said softly. "But it worked out."

"That it did," she smiled. All of it.

They moseyed back to her office, bumped gums some more, before Red looked at the clock and groaned.

"I should probably get back to Solhadur," he said leaning in to kiss her forehead, "before Pan thinks I got abducted again."

"You shouldn't joke..." Xaeryn protested half-heartedly, even as butterflies filled her chest at the casual affection. "But I suppose I should let you go home. You probably want to sleep more? Clothes that actually fit?"

"Yes to both." Red muffled a yawn and looked sheepish about it. "Feel free to visit whenever you like, Xaer, For me or the books."

She had a sneaking suspicion he'd be teasing about that for a while. She didn't care. "I'll do that." She kissed his cheek. "So much you'll get sick of me."

"Never happen," he said warmly, pulling her into a hug. "I like you too much," he whispered, resting his forehead to hers.

Xaeryn hugged him back. "Good," she said with a smile. "I like you too much, too." It was an effort to fight down the urge to kiss him again before she eased back. "I'll see you soon, Liefred."

"I'm not going to get you to stop that, am I?" he murmured, eyes dancing with laughter, as he squeezed her hands one last time before letting go. "I'll be seeing you, Xaeryn."

Red pulled the door closed behind him as he left, and she dropped into her chair, smiling wider than she ever had in her life.

There was always a rush at successfully completing a case, but none prior compared to this one. Xaeryn recalled that first meeting, the one she'd thought would be with Tevanti, and let out a small laugh. Of all the lovely surprises, indeed.

She had another success to add to her professional record, but more importantly, she had Red Antiqua back in her life. For good this time, and closer than ever.

Wish I could be there to see Pan's reaction, she mused, and got up to make herself some tea in celebration of a job well done on two fronts.

[ruiniel]

In Aeternum - II

Fandom: Castlevania series (2017-2021)

Relationship: Alucard x Reader

Count: 1.9k

Rating: M

Tags: Pining, Alternate Universe, First Meetings, Dark Romanticism/style, Castlevania References, Reincarnation, Post-Castlevania 2017-2021, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, F!Reader, Herbalist Reader, Magic, References to Speakers, Creatures, Shapeshifting, Second Person POV, Adventure, Alternate Universe - canon divergence

Part I

Summary:

Alucard centered story, where his s/o in ~1476 is a herbalist who eventually dies of old age. Fast forward to the 1790s, Alucard stumbles into you: a herbalist and magician, with the same appearance of the one he knew long ago.

II.

You close the door behind you, wondering what had just happened, more than a little unsettled by the abrupt departure of your new acquaintance.

Why? 

Another part of you is, in contrast, more than a little intrigued. It was as if he could sense your concern about the eavesdropping townsfolk, but that's not necessarily unusual if he's one versed in reading people. You lock the door still pondering on this, on how you nearly died today for the first time in a long while, on how fortuitous his presence had been.

The act of unwrapping the herbs and roots you collected then laying them to dry helps to quiet the mind and alleviate those constant, flowing questions. Somewhat.

You take your time, and the hour is late when you finally set to wash and change. Your feet hurt as you climb the old set of stairs leading to a cramped little attic room you use for a bedroom.

Crawling into bed, you notice the moon is still up in the sky, its silver face shining through the long, tilted window.

Bundling yourself in an old throw and lying on your side, you can’t shake the memory of a warm gloved hand helping you to your feet, and a lingering scent.

Lavender… the thought occurs, inescapable, the last as your eyes close.

That night, you dream of running through a shadowy forest to catch the dawn, your feet bare and dewy, chasing a white wolf and laughing as castle spires rise beyond ancient trees.

The next day passes, uneventful; as does the following, and the one after it. There are rumors and unrest seeping through the fabric of life as you and others know it, but for now, they amount to nothing more than words and sometimes worried, sometimes hopeful predictions.

There is but one certainty you feel in your bones as others do: change is coming.

You rub at the back of your head, then at your eyes, still nibbling on a crust of bread well past the time for a midday meal—your sales had never been bountiful, but in the past two years especially, they all but sank as prices soared and folk became more and more impoverished.

It’s not until late afternoon that you sigh, thinking to close up for the day, but not before there comes a knock on the window of the apothecary shop.

You turn, and smile without thought.

“Well met, Martin,” you open the door, meeting a pair of blue-green eyes.

“Miss,” the young man smiles back, “How did it go, today?”

“… so and so. And you?”

Martin shrugs, shaking his head. “Interest in poetry has dwindled, but the cobbling business still goes, for better or worse.”

Since you’ve known him, Martin has always kept a buoyant outlook on life and sees the full side of the glass no matter if it’s water or poison. And yet, he is no fool. It is, perhaps, one of the reasons he’s become your friend—of the few you boast in this place.

Even now, with his clothing ragged and the gauntness in his cheeks more prominent, he smiles at you.

“How is your father?” you ask, biting your lip.

“Oh,” his smile fades. “He’s been better, but the joint pain keeps hindering his movement, and—where are you going?”

“Wait here.” You’re gone inside only to return, producing a small jar. “I had this ointment freshly made yesterday. He can try massaging the sore area with this twice a day. It should alleviate some discomfort.”

Martin gazes down at your offering, his brown curls falling into his face; he looks uncomfortable. “I… you know I can’t pay for this,” he pushes your hands away.

“Martin, don’t.” You take his larger hand and press the glass receptacle into his palm. “I know, all right? Just take it.”

He looks down at your hand over his, features scrunching. “It should not be this way, you know. All of us, struggling to get by.” He looks up at you, all mirth gone from his face. “Have you eaten today?”

“Of course,” you smile now, but you know he’s right. Just as you know he came to see you now, before the end of your day, because he cares; and so do you, though perhaps not in the same way. “Go rest, Martin.”

“Only if you promise to do the same. And to ask once again that you don’t head out into that damned forest alone, as you used to. There's... been another disappearance. I heard about it at the tavern on my way—that’s what I came here to tell you. Be careful.”

Heart beating faster, you nod. “Of course, thank you, same goes to you.”

Half a crooked smile shows he’s satisfied—and with a last friendly nod, pressing the gifted ointment jar to his chest, he walks away. “Until tomorrow.”

“Until then…” your words fade in your mouth as you turn back inside, wondering what the world is coming to.

You remove your apron just as the door creaks, signalling an arrival.

“We’re closed for the day,” you say, placing the apron on a chair.

“Oh. Should I come by another time, then?”

You freeze. Your body jolts at the mere inflection of that voice, and slowly you turn, meeting his eyes.

Adrian stands there, unassuming, wearing black as usual, his long coat trimmed with yellow. He looks much too pale in this light, but then the ghostly allure does something for him. His face changes into a dim smile; his bright eyes are smiling too.

Running, barefooted… the wolf stares back, ensuring you follow.

You shake your head, realizing you’d been wordless for too long. “No, I’ll make an exception. I mean—for you, of course I will. Come, come,” you urge, going behind the counter and donning a near-professional manner. “Let’s see, then. What can I help you with today?”

Adrian nods, and only then steps forward, reaching inside his coat. He retrieves a piece of paper, showing it to you.

It looks yellowed with time and use, and you’re wary of touching it for fear the frail-looking parchment might disintegrate between your fingers.

But he’s handing it over with no apparent concerns and before your hesitation turns to embarrassment, you gingerly take the paper to glance at the etchings.

“Hmm… this script is...”

“Old?… Yes.”

You look up at him briefly, finding his gaze intent on the torn slip.  “Valerian root,” you read the first word, turning to the shelf behind you. “... evening primrose,” you head over to another shelf, this time going around Adrian, your attention focused on the items. An unusual meld, and you wonder what kind of concoction this may be. “Bloodroot,” you say, frowning as you skim over the next item scrawled in a flowing hand. “... Frankincense.” You turn around, meeting the eyes of your last minute customer. “I don’t keep stock of this,” you add, but then the list does look quite out of sorts with everything else on there. It’s also very unlikely he wrote it, but you resist the urge to ask as you hand him back the note.

“No, of course not,” Adrian gently reaches for the paper and tucks it back inside his coat at his chest. “The rest will do.”

You nod, and after pulling on a glove, take the quantity required of bloodroot from one basket at your feet. You look down in earnest and carefully wrap the herbs and roots requested. The sun has dipped low enough to beam through the window, splashing light over your working fingers. You raise your head.

Sunset looks good on him, too; enhancing the shimmer in his hair, setting a pale flame to his eyes. “What spells are you up to, Mr. Țepeș?” 

You smirk around your question. You don’t mean to be nosy, and it’s none of your business after all to know what strangers go about doing in their spare time. Even if said strangers are unreasonably strong shapeshifters that prevented your demise.

Too late to bite your tongue, anyway. 

“Adrian, remember?”

Heat pulses through your body, warming your cheeks. “Adrian.”

Adrian shakes his head, and his face softens in another smile; one that comes easier this time, warmer and more sincere. “Nothing that should worry anybody,” he replies, sliding into an assured, simple manner. “Thank you.” And he reaches inside his pocket, at which point you realize he wants to pay and so begin shaking your head and wagging both index fingers at him.

Adrian regards you with owlish confusion, comical on his otherwise dramatic features.

“Please, no need,” you gesture for him to place his satchel on your small counter. “You saved my life, remember?”

Adrian pauses with his hand inside his coat, a bemused frown on his face.  “... henceforth, I have earned an unlimited supply of free herbs?”

You scoff, “Well… why not? I mean, I... I suppose?”

He’s laughing before you know it, head falling back in delight; the sound is so unexpected, so lively and musical in this red sunset that your smile freezes on your face, and that feeling from the woods slithers right back between your ribs as if it never left. There is magic on him again. Something unrevealed. Its arcane flickers speed towards you and your own strength, recognizing another conductive vessel.

A glamor. You can’t quite grasp what it shields, but it lacks any form of malice, and so fails to worry you. For now.

You cross your arms as a strangeness rises at the back of your mind again, pulsing like something strong and familiar and warm, eager to break its bonds.

You’re staring as Adrian simmers, tilting his head slightly to one side with a contemplative air. “Forgive me, I am not laughing at you, it was… just the way you said it.”

“How about this?” You offer back the satchel. “Whenever you need supplies...” you add in a faux affected tone, “... henceforth, I’ll do my best to provide you with what I have on stock. Without charge.” Before he can protest, you add quickly, “My trade, my rules.”

Adrian retrieves the satchel you’ve filled with the herbs, bringing it over one shoulder. “I appreciate it, but I don’t know if that’s necessary, especially considering the proven risks you take to gather these.”

“Nonsense,” you say, foolish in your sudden excitement. Perhaps it’s the idea of being able to do something for him that has you so riled, so drunk on this exchange. Perhaps you’ve simply been lonely, and welcome the interaction. It makes you bolder, and before you know it, your traitorous tongue goes off. “Why did you leave so suddenly last time?”

Adrian taps a gloved finger on the wooden counter, his expression unchanged. “I… did not realize I had. I am sorry if I did. I truly am.”

You want the floorboards to swallow you whole. “There’s nothing to apologize for, I’m sorry it was not my intent to pry this way, I—” 

The crash is so loud, so deafening, you lose balance, your back striking the shelves. Adrian rushes over and you grab at his arms to steady yourself against the pain as a second blast hits somewhere outside, causing the windows to shake. 

“What now!?” You release him, turning to the door. 

“Wait!”

You don’t hear him, cannot see the muted desperation on his face as you throw the door open, as you run into the street thinking of Martin and how he was on his way home, as flames burst to engulf you.

The last you see is red: red beams, red lightning, cutting between you and devouring fire.

MASTERLIST: CASTLEVANIA SERIES x READER

More of my work is on AO3

BLOG MASTERPOST (all you need to know)

Likes/comments/reblogs always and forever appreciated

[ao3feed-piltovers-finest]

Not Throwing Away My Shot

by Want_to_go_to_Antarctica_together

How did they get here?

Vi recalled how just this morning they planned for an uneventful day out in the city. It was a rare day off for Cait, and Vi wanted to go on a date. Yet somehow, they found themselves back in the Kiramman estate with her girlfriend and her friend laser focused on each other—glaring at each other, really—as their hands busied themselves on polishing their respective guns.

or

Caitlyn and Sarah have a pissing contest on whose gun is bigger, basically.

Words: 2064, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Fandoms: Arcane: League of Legends (Cartoon 2021)

Rating: General Audiences

Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply

Categories: F/F

Characters: Caitlyn (League of Legends), Vi (League of Legends), Miss Sarah Fortune, Jinx (League of Legends), Jayce (League of Legends), Ekko (League of Legends)

Relationships: Caitlyn/Vi (League of Legends), Miss Sarah Fortune/Vi

Additional Tags: Competition, Jealousy, Jealous Caitlyn (League of Legends), Idiots in Love, Slice of Life, Fluff, Shooting Guns

Read on A03. from AO3 works tagged ‘Caitlyn/Vi (League of Legends)’

[thechembow]

OR Shift is Underway, Chance of Rain in the Forecast for Tomorrow

July 22, 2023

It's been a typical uneventful July in Southern California, with normal hot temperatures, few clouds, no rain, and very few flyers, until the other day. A shift is underway and we've seen a few more flyers with breaking trails, and the return of monsoonal clouds.

This afternoon became blessedly overcast, giving us relief from the summer heat. The weather forecasts do not like to report rain, but if you go off the beaten path, you can find somewhat more honest reporting. Tomorrow's chance of rain is 20 percent, which is pretty good, whether it happens or not.

Today, there were thunderstorms in Arizona and New Mexico. The Weather Channel just put a little red note about a "marginal chance of severe weather" for Phoenix but the forecast said nothing about it. They really have to hide precipitation from the forecast as much as possible and they seem to be continuing in the trend of adding about 10 degrees to daytime temperatures, even more at night.

Most of the action is in the east right now, as our gifting friend is doing the same type of gridding in Massachusetts and New Hampshire that we've done in the west for years. This is breaking up a significant blockage in the east for the first time since Wilhelm Reich''s cloudbusting work in the 1950s, and has led to flooding in Boston.

We have been making very large amounts in towerbusters in preparation for a gifting trip that will cover Denver, Albuquerque, and Tucson. This is generating a lot of OR here in Southern California. Much of our orgonite has gone and is going to Arizona coming up, as new gifters start participating, and more people are getting orgonite for their homes and neighborhoods. This should help amp up the monsoon season soon, in addition to the gridding we did in Phoenix in 2021, as well as Salt Lake City in 2022.

[unhclywater]

— BASICS

Name: Mikala Alijah Seabrooke, A.K.A. Michael or Mik. Age / D.O.B.: 58 / April 17th, 1965. Gender, Pronouns & Sexuality: Male in the same way you might view Cthulhu as a masculine figure, he / him / his, demisexual & aromantic. Hometown: Brooklyn, New York. Affiliation: The Syndicate. Job position: Organ trafficker (and other extracurricular activities), retired funeral director as of 2021. Education: Completed all 12 grades, acquired a health sciences degree at Kingsborough Community College at age 27 and a mortuary science degree at Hudson Valley Community College at age 32.  Has undergone continuing education throughout his time working for funeral homes. Relationship status: Some secret third thing (weird marriage is the secret third thing). Children: None that he wishes to be aware of (two probably). Positive traits: + Articulate, confident, hardworking, methodical, persuasive. Negative traits: - Amoral, antagonistic, cruel, morbid, pedantic.

— BIOGRAPHY (CONTENT WARNING: military involvement, death, cruelty, murder, war crimes, torture, animal/human experimentation, gore, organ trafficking - it's just bad news bears under here, heed the warnings.  Please refer to the abridged version w/o heavy mentions of these triggers if the content below is not for you.)

It’s spring of 1965 in Brooklyn, New York.  A boy enters the world, healthy and screaming.  He is the last born of three boys, and the only one to survive the following years, evading the Grim Reaper’s forceful grip.  With a single mother and three boys with their own unique challenges, their family is unorthodox.

Mikala, or Michael as he’s known in social circles, is even more unorthodox.  Childhood is simple enough, frustrating because he could never relate to his peers, not even his own brothers.  An odd child, it starts the same as it always does—a general malaise towards the living, a penchant for experimenting with the dead.  No one needs to know about the roadkill he conducts experiments on, so they don't.

He graduates high school in 1983, top of his class, then promptly enlists in the United States Army.  It matters not to him that he lost both of his brothers, five and eight years his senior respectively, to war.  Serving your country is merely what you did to make the men in your life proud and the women dote over you.  Above all, he wants to feel—to kill.

Cut to 1985.  He's twenty years old and feels so alive after witnessing so much death and depravity in a mere two years.  He has a hostage.  He should tell someone, he really should.  But this is his capture, and so he doesn't.  The torture lasts a handful of days, though it might as well have lasted a lifetime to his innocent victim.  Interrogation leads to physical harm, lighting the match to a fiery path of torture, experimentation and, finally, death.  Information acquired from his hostage is offered up to those positioned above him on a bloodied silver platter.  Questions aren't asked, not for now.

Jump a few more years to 1989. He has completed his time in the military, not by choice.  It's alleged that Michael committed multiple war crimes during his time serving, but only by a singular witness.  The trial drones on for nearly a year, no evidence is found, and he walks as a free man amongst the innocents.  His ability to lie and twist stories saves him multiple times throughout his life.  Immediately after this, he enrolls into community college.

The next few years are uneventful, though he's intoxicated by power after winning his hefty case.  He lives on the downlow by choice, having tasted plenty of murder in his time in the military.  This changes at age 29 in 1994.  In ice cold blood, he murders the woman he's dating.  With attention to detail, he dissects and learns to preserve the human body, the organs within it.

He enters 1995 by enrolling into yet another community college, this time in mortuary science.  Ten lovely years go by as he pursues his one and lonely passion, until he is noticed by The Syndicate.  Wrong place, right time, or perhaps the other way around.  In either case, Michael offers himself—his services—up.  It takes a village to be this criminal and ruthless, and so he accepts the inherent shelter this organization provides.  He trades his access to cadavers, more specifically organs, in return with the time-to-time involvement in assassinations, murders, and body disposal as well.

Throughout this time, starting in the mid-1990s, Michael discovers an inmate named Malachi Howahkan and does research on his case. Naturally, he likes what he finds, so he begins sending letters, money, et cetera to him. The two become romantically involved, going so far to propose to each other in their letters. Funnily, Malachi is the exact reason Michael enters The Syndicate in the first place, his soon-to-be husband in prison noticed and recruited first. When Malachi is released from prison in 2003, he shows up on Michael's doorstep. Just as naturally, he accepts his long-term penpal and partner, albeit with some surprise. Within the year, they're married.

From 2005 to 2021, life continues on as normal as it can for the abnormal.  Summer of 2021 brings his retirement as a funeral director, a slightly controversial move, yet he's not lost access to what matters most in his position with The Syndicate.  He finds alternative means, he always does.

As of 2023, he dedicates himself wholly to the gang, the only commitment that's ever mattered to him.

ABRIDGED VERSION: Born to a single mother, loses his brothers to war, enlists in the Army himself, commits multiple war crimes, is taken to court based on those war crimes, no evidence is found, he wins the case, acquires a degree in health sciences, murders woman he's in a relationship with shortly after graduating, acquires another degree in mortuary science, spends several years working in funeral services and participating in extracurricular activities on the side, discovers Malachi Howahkan while he's in prison and becomes his penpal, the two start a romantic relationship of sorts, they marry almost immediately after Malachi is released from prison, joins The Syndicate in 2005 due to his access to bodies, cements himself as an organ trafficker with occasional involvement in assassinations/murders, retires as a funeral director in 2021, continues his unscrupulous work for the organization.

— WANTED CONNECTIONS / PLOTS

Dalliances: It's rare for him to get intimately involved with someone, given his marriage, however it's not impossible.  It's turbulent, it's hardly romantic, and it's all about gain—for him. He's using the person for one reason or another. Again, deets are worked out as we plot/write. (0 / 2) Ex-lovers: The dalliances that are no longer dallying.  Again, quite rare for him to accumulate past lovers, but he's nearly sixty for God's sake and has been around the block once or twice.  (0 / 2) Friends: Or whatever is the next best thing.  These are people he doesn't mind, actively seeks out for company, etc.  This is most often going to be other Syndicate members.  Formal apology for the pet names said friends have garnered over time—think of them as his way of saying "I don't loathe you." Foes: He keeps his friends close and his foes closer.  There are a million and one ways he could've wronged your muse and created this hostile attitude towards each other, so let's chat it out! Coworkers: A.K.A. beloved Syndicate members.  He is particularly fond of those who get their hands bloody, and likely enlists their assistance in acquiring cadavers for organ trafficking purposes, delighted to take care of and dispose of the body for them.  While he'll do the "acquiring" part himself, even after his retirement from the funeral home, he likes it more when he can get someone else to.  Ex-coworkers could include other funeral service workers, hospital staff, etc. Military mates: Essentially, people who served at the same time he did (1983-1989).  Doesn't have to be Army branch but it does help. Perhaps the one person to witness his war crimes and snitch? Children of Dracula: Alright, this is a little dramatic, but. Michael's kids that he doesn't have a connection with and never has, however perhaps they've reached out? Want to get to know estranged papa? They would be in their late 20s to early/mid 30s. (0 / 2) Cop who arrested him: Self explanatory. This is the police officer that took him into custody when he was accused for war crimes, maybe even believes he's guilty despite the verdict. Bad blood all around. (0 / 1) Lawyer who defended him: Again, self explanatory. Legal representation was his lifeline during his trial, and he likely feels as if he owes this person to this day. (0 / 1)

[bloodmaarked]

where sleeping girls lie // faridah àbíké-íyímídé

first published: 2024 [to be released 14 march] read: 17 january 2024 – 24 january 2024 pages: 576 format: ebook [ARC]

genres: fiction, young adult, mystery, light romance (lesbian) favourite character(s): elizabeth least favourite character(s): baz (sorry!)

rating: 🌕🌕🌗🌑🌑 thoughts: so. i read ace of spades as an ARC back in 2021 and i can't really explain the way i was truly obsessed with this book (you can read my original review here). i read it in four days, bought a physical copy when it came out, talked about it to other people, etc. it was one of my favourite reads that year and it put faridah very firmly on my list of authors to watch. imagine my excitement when i was offered a chance to read her sophomore book early.

well. where sleeping girls lie just didn't hit the same. it's hard not to compare to her debut because there are a lot of shared elements and themes between the two, but i couldn't help noticing that WSGL lacked the spark, the excitement, and the punch of AOS.

one of the major faults is just how uneventful it was. the pacing felt so slow and only by around 80% in did i find myself thinking "oh, something's actually happening now". threads are picked up and then dropped for so long that by the time they came back around, i didn't care anymore. or things went unexplained for so long that i feel they became largely irrelevant to the plot. i wasn't necessarily bored but i did feel like i was in a perpetual state of waiting for the story to pick up. the overall plot was not as groundbreaking or exciting as the one in AOS, but i appreciated what it wanted to say.

the characters were also a little lacklustre. chiamaka and devon from AOS felt well-written, they were relatable in ways, and they had personality. sade, as the main character in WSIG, didn't really have much personality outside of her trauma. who was she, as a person? i don't really know. the side characters were okay, although i will say that i really liked the sense of intrigue and duplicity written into the male characters like august and jude. this will probably be an unpopular opinion but i didn't care for baz as the best friend at all; his manic pixie dream boy schtick got tired real quick.

i'm not so sure about how good the writing was in general. the whole book felt like it could have done with another thorough edit, and definitely a cut down in length by at least 100 pages. some of the dialogue also felt stilted and clunky. the story ultimately had an interesting and relevant message but i struggled to feel much depth from the writing.

i didn't dislike this book, i think i just had very high expectations following AOS and with the similarities between the two i wasn't expecting quite so many differences in quality. i would absolutely still go ahead and read more books by faridah (i've still got four eids and a funeral on my reading list) and would love to see her branch out to stories perhaps with an older cast, set outside of high school, or not focused on elite teens.

massive thanks to Usborne Publishing and NetGalley for providing me with an advanced digital copy in exchange for an honest review!

[aspieragus]

hey so i know i don’t really post life updates on here mostly because life has been pretty uneventful lately but after two years in limbo i finally got my diploma in photography from trade school. i was really happy to spend two weeks there to finish what i started but couldn’t due to the bleakness of early 2021 and a soul draining job all of which are behind me now. had to pass a mock-job interview with my professor and she was so impressed that she wished i was attending the real interview for the job. this is actually the first time i ever get any diploma since i’m not finished with high school yet (next step!) so this is actually huge for me.

[dribolopdapipol]

Beermen have ‘nothing but praise’ for Terrence Romeo

MANILA, Philippines—San Miguel Beer faced a lot of questions from onlookers when it traded for the enigmatic yet dazzling guard Terrence Romeo in the offseason. But amid all the noise and criticisms, the Beermen remained unbothered. All along, they knew exactly what they’re going to get. After all, it’s no secret what Romeo can do with a basketball and he showed that again Tuesday in the semifinal stage. “I mean you guys know what Terrence can do. He is one of the best in the country at putting the ball in the hole. He’s proven that through many years, he’s won many scoring championships. Everybody knows what type of player he is,” said San Miguel guard Chris Ross after his team’s 114-91 beatdown of Phoenix in Game 4 at Cuneta Astrodome. Romeo unleashed a game-high 20 points, including 17 in the third quarter, where the Beermen’s 11-point lead ballooned to 26. There’s no denying that Romeo ranks among the league’s best offensive players but the knack has been his shaky relationship with his teammates and coaches from his time with GlobalPort, the team that drafted him fifth overall in 2013, to his short uneventful stint with TNT where the two sides had a nasty fallout. But the Romeo experiment has been a success so far for San Miguel, who added a lethal offensive spark off the bench to its already loaded roster. “I got nothing but praise for him. Since he’s been with us, he’s been one of the best teammates you can have,” Ross said. “He’s adapting to our style of play and he’s adapting to what we do as a team.” “He’s been with us for such a short time and he’s made so many strides in his game to fit with us and he’s a welcoming piece for us.” Playing his best game yet as a member of the Beermen, Romeo deflected the credit to his teammates particularly Ross. “Credit to my teammates especially to my brother Chris Ross because he really looks for me and he gives me the confidence to just keep playing my game,” Romeo said in Filipino. SMB coach Leo Austria also raved about Romeo’s play in the third quarter which he believed became the “turning point” in Game 4. “He was our main man tonight,” Austria said. For Romeo, however, he remains just part of the main core’s supporting cast. “The core of this team is still the first five. We’re just here to give them a good rest so that they’ll have fresh legs when they go back in,” he said. “I’ve accepted my role with the team. I’m okay with whatever role I play as long as it will help the team win.” Four months ago, TNT traded away Romeo for reserves David Semerad and Brian Heruela and a 2021 first round pick. On Tuesday night, Romeo finds himself just a win away from booking his first trip to the finals. “My teammates have won many championships. They already know what it feels like to be in the finals. Me, if ever, it will be just my first time,” Romeo said. “But I’m not thinking about that yet. Phoenix will be prepared and we need to be focused on our next game.” https://bit.ly/486G9Wc

[formulamelia]

2023 Saudi Arabian Grand Prix - Race Report

2023 Saudi Arabian Grand Prix - Race Report

The 2nd race of the 2023 season took place at the Jeddah - Corniche Street Circuit, one of the new additions to the calendar since 2021. On this track, which has attracted both interest and criticism since its introduction in 2021, watching the drivers passing by so close to the walls is thrilling. Still, we should emphasize that, despite the excitement and the joy, Corniche is a dangerous track, especially considering that the race had to be restarted twice in 2021, the missile attack and explosion during the Free Practice session in 2022, and Mick Schumacher's qualifying accident that scared everyone. But what happened during the relatively uneventful 2023 race? Let's take a look at it together.

FIA, Again… A Scandal, Again!

I'm going to be brutally honest here. We've had enough of having to write about the FIA's ridiculous decisions, but the FIA doesn't seem to have had enough of making such decisions. If you ask what happened this time: you would remember from the previous race (Bahrain), Alpine's young driver Esteban Ocon was first penalized for ''incorrect grid position'', then for ''penalty served incorrectly'', and then for ''speeding in the pit lane''. This time Fernando Alonso hit the penalty jackpot. Just like the young Frenchman, Ocon, Alonso was first penalized with a 5-second time penalty for ''incorrect starting grid''. As it is the most logical way, Aston Martin opted for the pitstop to serve the time. However, this choice came with a cost for the surprisingly hopeful team. We soon found out the regulations state that no work should be done on the car while serving the penalty, and mechanics should stay clear of the vehicle. And the jack placed under the car is included in this rule. Alonso was also penalized again for another reason I cannot remember now. However, he kept his 3rd place by increasing his lead on Mercedes' young star, George Russell, by another 5 seconds. Now, let's look at the ridiculous and scandalous part. The race ended, the trophy ceremony has done, and the team celebrated a 2nd podium in a row with Fernando Alonso. But what was that? A notification that circulated on Twitter shell-shocked everyone. After everything was said and done, the FIA penalized the veteran Spaniard by 10 seconds, citing the previously mentioned rule. Alonso had to deliver the 3rd place trophy to George Russell, who inherited the 3rd place after his penalty. Even though everyone saw that no one was working on the car for 5 seconds, the reason for this penalty was a mechanic putting the jack under the car and standing ready in that position. The FIA's notice was ridiculous: ''Usually, the consequence of this infringement is disqualification from the race, but we saw clearly in the footage that no one was working on the car during those 5 seconds, so we decided on a 10-second time penalty.'' Fortunately, Aston Martin acted very quickly and appealed the decision. The FIA relayed on their 2nd notice that they accepted the British team's appeal and that the team turned in 7 precedents where the same action resulted in no penalty and, therefore, the 3rd place is rightfully Fernando Alonso's. The team and the Spaniard said there was at least 25 laps worth of time for them to take this decision, and had they been informed about the penalty during the race, they would have improved their lap times accordingly. We are glad that, in the end, justice prevailed.

Lance Stroll and The Safety Car.

We continue our article with Aston Martin, but this part will not be lengthy. At the beginning of the article, we mentioned how dangerous the Corniche circuit is and how they had to restart the race in 2021 twice. Luckily, this year's race was pretty uneventful. During the race, for which everyone considers a minimum of 2 Safety Car periods guaranteed, the one and only Safety Car period came from Aston Martin's young Canadian, Lance Stroll. He suffered a mechanical issue and had to stop the car on the track. Despite all, we are glad that it was an uneventful race.

Get Well Soon, Champion!

On Thursday, during the race week, some unexpected news from the Red Bull side dropped on Twitter. First came Max Verstappen's post and then the statement from the team. While the young champion stated that he had a stomach bug and that he did not feel well for the previous few days and, hence, he is going to be arriving in Jeddah on Friday in his message, to which he started by saying ''feeling well again'', the team announced that the Dutchman is not going to participate in the press events for the same reason. Although the young driver arrived in Jeddah, participated in the Free Practice sessions, and was looking better, he later admitted that he was not feeling as good as seemed and that he was having difficulty breathing and, therefore, felt the need to slow down and take a breath after two laps during the previously mentioned session. Despite his condition and starting the race in 15th place due to a drive shaft issue, he saw the chequered flag as the runner-up. That is beyond impressive and worthy of some praise! We congratulate the ''Flying Dutchman'' and extend our wishes for a quick recovery on him.

Williams, Misfortunes, And A Rookie's American Dream!

I intend to mention Williams in this part of my article. Williams is a successful, iconic team, a fan favorite. I will not go deep into the history of the British crew. However, it's impossible not to get upset with their state, especially as they turned into a ''backmarker'' for the last decade. The news that veteran strategist from Mercedes, James Vowles, is joining Williams as the new team principal had the effect of both shock and excitement. It's impossible not to trust & admire Vowles' strategic intelligence and experience. As motorsport fans, we are sure he will do great things for the team. Now, about the drivers: at the wheel of the 1st car, we see Alexander Albon, whom we can consider an experienced driver, coming from the Red Bull junior academy amongst all the objections. At the wheel of the 2nd car, however, is Logan Sargeant, the first American rookie since Alexander Rossi and Scott Speed in a long time. Sargeant will learn a lot from his teammate Albon despite his shyness on and off the race track. If we should look at the Saudi Arabian Grand Prix in particular, the young Thai had to retire from the race due to mechanical issues while he had guaranteed a great haul of points, which is such a misfortune. The American rookie Sargeant has also shown, in a sense, a preview of his capabilities if ridding himself of his shyness is possible. I have seen that he has a strong potential for impeccable overtakes if he can build his confidence, even though he had to back away many times. I congratulate the young driver and wish him the best of luck.

What Is Perez Doing?

We are going back to the Red Bull side because there is a situation that we cannot not-mention! The Mexican has gained the admiration of many fans, first with his last-to-first miracle win in Bahrain in 2020 (also etched his name into the books of the sport's history as the first and only driver to win a race from last place), then with his mesmerizing and skillful defensive drives in a Red Bull seat since 2021. Yet still, the fact that his young teammate, Max Verstappen, outperforms him; brought on a lot of criticism. Although many fans of the sport belittle him, saying he can't challenge Verstappen or his race pace is not good enough, Perez proved his critics wrong with his exceptional drive in the Saudi Arabian Grand Prix. In the absence of the young Dutchman (don't get this wrong, by ''absence'', I mean he is busy climbing up from the back), the Mexican crossed the finish line as the winner, 5 seconds ahead of his teammate. Although he lost the lead to Fernando Alonso at the start, he regained his position within a few laps and successfully retained it. With this exceptional performance, Perez claimed his 4th victory with Red Bull and the 5th of his career. We congratulate him.

In summary, Red Bull's veteran driver, Sergio Perez, won the Saudi Arabian Grand Prix, for which we are glad that it was uneventful in general. On the other hand, Max Verstappen crossed the finish line as the runner-up, bringing his team the 2nd double victory of the season, despite struggling with a drive shaft issue since the Qualifying sessions. Aston Martin and Fernando Alonso, of whom we spoke as ''an F1 fairy tale'' in Bahrain, saw the chequered flag in 3rd place, bringing the British crew's 2nd podium in a row.

We are sending warm hugs to everyone after this lovely race and saying ''see you at the Australian Grand Prix''. :))))

[andswarwrites]

Day 1

So you want to know what a thousand words looks like and how long it takes to write it?  Read on. 

I remember hearing the groans when our English teacher in Grade 7 told us he wanted us to write a hundred words.  He then wrote out a paragraph on the board and told us: that’s a hundred words.  Up until that point I had counted pages, but he taught us to look at the words, because you can change the font size and make it seem like you have a lot of writing with pages, but numbers don’t lie when you’re counting words.

I've had six English teachers in my life.  Four of them were awesome, and two of them were not.  I have fond memories of English class.  I was taught at home from grades one to six, so my first English teacher was my mom.  She and my dad would bring me to a library that allowed children an unlimited pile of books, and I would take advantage of that.  From the age of three I was an avid reader.  I would come to the check out desk with a pile of books over my head, and the librarians would ask me if I really was going to read all of these books?!

To be honest, I would read about four or five of those books on the trip home.  If I was misbehaving, my mother would threaten me that if I didn't stop, I wouldn't be allowed to read.  There was a series of stories about a community of all sorts of different animals, and it was beautifully illustrated.  This series inspired me to create my own books.  My dad would bring home large sheets of paper from work, which I would fold in two and staple into a book, and then I would make my own illustrations and spin a tale.

When I was old enough to appreciate Otherwise Known as Sheila the Great by Judy Blume, I got inspired to write my own chapter book.  It was thirty-five pages, and I painstakingly colored the pictures.  At age twelve I read my first historical romance: it was Friday's Child by Georgette Heyer.  My mom had a whole shelf full, along with books by Nevil Shute and D. E. Stevenson.  Around that time I fell in love with Anne of Green Gables, as well.  Anne was just as talkative as me.

Of course, my love for historical fiction made me want to write a novel of my own, so that was my one hundred page summer project, which I showed to my English teacher.  The computer on which I wrote that book has long since perished, and I lost my one printed copy, which is just as well, because I am sure it would make me cringe to re-read it.  In my late teens I got an idea for a science fiction novel.  I worked on it but never completed it.  And by Grade 10 my English teacher was once again my mom, and she gave me a project.

Mom told me that I had to write a novel using the old adage to "write what you know".  Up until that point, from the books about animals, to the story of a little sister I wished I'd had, to the romance and the science fiction, my projects had been heavily laced with imagination.  I didn't really want to "write what I knew" at first, because I felt like what I knew was pretty boring and uneventful.  I did have a friend who lived close by, and she and I would hang out a lot.  We had a circle of friends.  I used this as a basis to write a story about friendship.

In my early twenties I hit a rut.  I wanted an original idea, and every time I sat down to write, nothing came to me.  Events were unfolding, however that would lead to my first success with Nanowrimo.  It took three attempts.  I was at home with my six month old baby, and while she would sleep I would write.  Completing that project gave me the confidence I needed to tackle a single sheet of loose leaf I had filled in pencil nearly a decade prior.  It was just the intro to a story, but I couldn't think of how to continue for all that time.

Here's the thing about Nanowrimo: once you figure out how to write a 50K novel in thirty days, it's somehow easier and easier each year you attempt it.  You figure out your own way of doing it.  But in 2021 I decided that in 2022 I would write 365K words in a year: an average of a thousand words a day.  They wouldn't have to be all fiction, but I would also try to write a novel.  This year, I'm writing a thousand words a day, but I'm keeping the fiction goals down to short stories when I feel like writing them.

I do have another idea for a novel.  It seems as though every time I write one, an idea for another takes its place.  It's just that I'm waiting for the idea to fully form in my mind.  You have to be patient with stories.  Sometimes you start one and you have no idea where you are going with it, and you're just along for the ride.  Other times, you've got a few pieces of an idea, and you have to wait to get more pieces to really get a clear picture of what the story will be.

I'm also watching my daughter become a writer in her own right.  She has tons of ideas for stories, she just has to choose one to stick to and complete.  I'm encouraging her to work on one this year, and write it until she reaches the end.  I've also got an idea for a story that we can collaborate on.  My mother is a writer, so my daughter is a third generation writer too.  She's currently reading that novel I wrote in Grade 10, and she likes it.  So, this was a thousand words, and it took me about two hours to write, with a lot of pauses to do other things.  I can’t think of anything else to say for now, so I'll stop here.

[peggyrose19]

Midnight Kisses

HAPPY NEW YEAR LOVELIES!! I’M MANIFESTING A HAPPY 2021 DAMMIT!! SO ENJOY MY PAINFULLY FLUFFY MIDNIGHT KISS FICS FOR THE SW SHIPS. THESE ARE SHIT CAUSE I STARTED THEM AT 9PM BUT IT’S FINE.

I’ll stop yelling now. I really wanna explain all of these but I’m not going to because there’s honestly no need, I just tend to over-explain things. So enjoy all the fluff and love in these little one-shots. Characters from the amazingly talented @lumosinlove. I wish you all the most boring, uneventful 2021 <333

Coops

“Look, baby,” Remus whispered, pointing up at the sky, although the fireworks were hard to miss. 

“They’re beautiful,” Sirius murmured. He wasn’t looking at the fireworks exploding in the night sky, but the man in his arms. Remus glanced down at him, catching his eye.

“What?”

Sirius shook his head. “Nothing. Just… happy. I love you.” 

Remus smiled, seeming to understand what he meant. He remembered the late night, exactly a year earlier, when he had swallowed those words down, all dim light and flushed cheeks in the back of a car, hiding from the world. Not that it had mattered. 

“I love you too,” he said back, pressing a kiss to Sirius’ cheek, and then his lips. It wasn’t yet midnight, wouldn’t be for a few hours, but Remus didn’t care. He could kiss Sirius, his fiancé, in wide open now without fear. It was a privilege he was never taking for granted. 

When midnight did come, and fireworks were set off once more, Remus kissed him again, surrounded by their friends and family as they all rung in the new year. Sirius was sweet and pliant beneath his hands, arms wrapped tightly around him, never letting go. 

It was the perfect start to a new year. 

O’Knutzy

“Happy New Year, baby!” Logan shouted, arm wrapped around Finn’s neck. 

“Lo, that was the oven,” Leo sighed from the kitchen. “It’s 11:32. Honestly, we should not have let him drink so much.”

Finn just shrugged, accepting the wet kisses Logan was now planting to his cheek and neck. 

Leo fought a smile as he watched them. So maybe drunk Logan was kind of endearing. 

“Here.” He held out one of the pigs-in-blankets from the batch cooling on the counter, and Logan took it happily in his mouth.

“Yum,” he managed around it, grinning at Leo. Finn accepted one too, still caught by Logan’s arms around him. Leo ate one too, then walked around the island to their side, wrapping his arms around them both. He kissed Logan’s cheek. 

“I’m glad I get to spend the new year with the two of you,” he murmured. 

“We’re glad too, baby,” Finn replied, twisting to press a quick kiss to his lips. “I love you.”

“Love you too, Fish.”

“I love you Knutty!” Logan yelled, and they both jumped. 

“Oh, Tremzy,” Finn sighed. “What are we gonna do with you.” 

Logan’s eyes lit up. “Kiss me?”

Leo gave him a quick kiss and pulled away. “At midnight,” he promised when Logan pouted at the loss of contact. 

“Well, midnight needs to hurry up and get here then,” he grumbled. Finn just laughed and tugged him towards the couch.

“C’mon, let’s wait for the ball to drop.”

Logan let himself be pulled, collapsing nearly on top of Finn and making no move to adjust his position. Finn flipped the television on and pulled a blanket over them, leaving room for Leo once he was done in the kitchen. 

A moment later, Leo joined them in watching the commercials currently playing, snuggling into Logan’s side, smiling happily. They watched quietly, enjoying each other’s silent company, until it was nearly time. 

At five minutes to, Leo pulled the champagne from the cabinet. Logan was nearly bouncing up and down. Leo wasn’t entirely sure he wanted to give him more alcohol. 

As the countdown began, Finn took the bottle from Leo. When they hit one, he popped it open, and all three of them cheered. With wide grins, Finn and Leo kissed Logan’s cheeks, and then each other, and then Logan one by one.

They drank their champagne and kissed again, sloppy and sticky and in love. 

When they fell back onto the couch, tangled together in a pile of limbs and blankets, it was to the sound of fireworks outside and the pounding of their own hearts, the taste of champagne on their lips, and the overwhelming feeling of the happiness that was to come.

Thoelle

Thomas still couldn’t quite believe his luck. He couldn’t believe it when he woke in the morning to Noelle asleep at his side, or the days she would pick him up at the rink, or the kiss she gave him each night before bed.

He certainly didn’t believe it was two minutes to midnight and she was by his side, arm around his waist as they waited impatiently for the ball to drop and the hour hand to fall to the 12. 

“What’re you thinking about?” she asked him, dark hair falling in a curtain over her shoulder. He ran a hand through it, in love with the silkiness and the way always she melted under his touch. 

“You,” he replied softly.

“What a charmer you are,” she murmured, but her cheeks were flushed. 

“Still can’t believe it.” 

“Believe what?” She had turned more towards him now.

“That I have you. Still feels like a dream sometimes.” 

She smiled, ducking her head. Noelle wasn't usually one to shy away from attention, but sometimes he could still get her. Thomas leaned down and lightly kissed her nose, making her laugh and look back up at him.

“You wanna know something?” she asked.

“What?”

“I love you.”

“I love you, too,” Thomas replied almost instantly, on instinct. Noelle laughed a little, eyes wide. 

“You do?”

“Of course.”

She opened her mouth to respond, but was interrupted by a loud shout, the countdown beginning around them. Instead she just grinned up at him.

“You ready for a new year?”

“With you by my side? Hell, yeah.”

Together, they shouted the last few numbers, “Four...three...two...one!” 

As cheers erupted around them, Thomas leaned down and kissed Noelle softly.

“I love you, Noelle Tremblay,” he murmured against her lips. She pulled away and laughed, giddy and free, wrapped in his arms and warmth. 

She kissed him again, whispering back, “I love you too, Thomas Walker.” 

O’Darwin

Kasey’s constant was back, at least for a little while. 

It had been a surprise, to see Alex standing on their doorstep three days before New Years, a suitcase in one hand and a bottle of champagne in the other. Natalie had jumped on him instantly, taking the bottle from him and kissing him, tugging him into the apartment by the collar of his jacket.

“Alex O’Hara,” she had scolded him, “How dare you show up here unannounced?” Alex had just grinned.

“I wanted to surprise you.”

Kasey had shaken his head, kissing Alex softly and settling by his side on the couch. He was glad Alex was home, even if it was just for a few days. He had missed him.

Now it was nearly midnight on New Year’s Eve. All three of them were drunk, happily sequestered in the apartment. Natalie and Alex were dancing to bad pop music, leftover lights from Christmas sending rainbows dancing across their faces as they moved, with glitter in their hair and champagne on their lips. They had meant to save it for midnight, truly. 

“Kase, come dance with us!” Natalie laughed, grabbing his hand and tugging him off the sofa. He let her, smiling softly at the two of them.

He looked up as the clock on the mantle began chiming, and fireworks began outside.

“Happy New Year,” he murmured to them and Natalie and Alex both cheered. They kissed each other, and then him, and Kasey smiled at the taste. 

Beginning the new year with his two favorite people wasn’t so bad after all. 

Nuny

The phone woke Jackson from his nap. He answered it groggily, not bothering to read the caller name.

“Hello?” he asked grumpily. 

“Nado?” a familiar voice asked and suddenly he was wide awake.

“Zhenya. Hey. How are you?”

“I’m good. It is uh… how you say? Midnight here.”

“Oh!” Jackson squinted at his watch, quickly doing the math on the time difference. “I guess it is. Well, happy new year.”

“Thank you.” Evgeni fell silent for a long moment. “I’m wish you were here,” he said finally, breaking the silence. 

Jackson sighed. “Me too. I miss you.” 

“Miss you. I see you soon, da?”

He smiled. “Yeah. Yeah, Kuns, soon.”

“I’m kiss you then.” 

That made Jackson laugh quietly. “Yeah, you kiss me then.” He bit his lip. “Go to sleep, Zhenya. I’ll call you again in the morning.” 

“Okay. I’m call later.”

“Good, okay. Happy New Year, Kuns.”

“Happy New Year.”

Jily

Harry was getting big. It felt like just a week ago he had been a tiny newborn, fitting in the palm of James’ hand with room to spare. Lily didn’t mind. Usually. He was nearly a year old now, able to crawl all around the house and make endless babbling noises, talking to his stuffed animals and the bugs in the garden. 

He was crawling around the living room now, dressed in a new onesie that wouldn’t fit him in another two weeks, picking at the carpet and up way past his bedtime. 

Lily and James had missed the actual countdown, preoccupied with chasing their little gremlin around the house and failing to put him to bed. Even little Harry seemed to sense the excitement in the air.

It was nearly one in the morning by the time Harry finally fell asleep, stuffed lion clutched in his tiny fingers. The two exhausted parents collapsed onto the couch, leaning into each other as their eyes slipped shut.

“I can’t believe he stayed up… for six extra hours,” Lily mumbled without opening her eyes. James just grumbled. “We missed the countdown, too.” 

“‘S okay,” he answered sleepily, “We can do it next year.” 

“Yeah.” They fell silent. Eventually, Lily said, “We should get to bed.” 

They stumbled to their feet and upstairs to their bedroom, too tired to even bother with brushing their teeth. They just fell into bed, curled up together exhausted and happy.

“Happy New Year, Lily,” James whispered into the darkness.

“Happy New Year,” she whispered back, and kissed him sweetly. She snuggled closer, laying her head on his chest, and the two fell instantly asleep to the distant sound of leftover fireworks. 

[cleargreyskies]

-

[lucytopaz]

I posted 15,200 times in 2021

34 posts created (0%)

15166 posts reblogged (100%)

For every post I created, I reblogged 446.1 posts.

I added 72 tags in 2021

#personal - 25 posts

#me - 8 posts

#toonami - 7 posts

#:( - 7 posts

#im sorry - 5 posts

#attack on titan - 5 posts

#👀 - 4 posts

#👉🏽👈🏽 - 4 posts

#tiktok - 4 posts

#this is me - 3 posts

Longest Tag: 139 characters

#all these people on this site and ur telling me i met someone who worked at a shop 3 mins away from my high school? like we could've passed

My Top Posts in 2021

#5

I love seeing everyone talk smack about Gabi in the tags lol

7 notes • Posted 2021-01-31 05:47:58 GMT

#4

Im so good at seeing people's potential!! All I had to see was one eye to know Mr.Compress was hot!!!! And then when he started doing those magic tricks?

Y'all thought I was weird and now look

8 notes • Posted 2021-02-17 09:10:25 GMT

#3

I knew I was right to get angry when a sequel was announced and I saw the words "half human, half demon" for sesshomaru's kids. I have NEVER seen a sequel end well.

10 notes • Posted 2021-01-17 00:43:09 GMT

#2

How todays episode left me feeling

11 notes • Posted 2021-02-28 09:00:57 GMT

#1

Got twists for the first time

12 notes • Posted 2021-02-11 02:38:43 GMT

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