#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

[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

[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.

[vukovich]

Vuk's Year in Review, an extra lazy post

Thanks and apologies to everyone who tagged me. I'm lumping it all in one post. My excuses are many and phlegmy.

My 2022 goals were:

ONE fest. ONE.

Write waaayyyy less than in 2021.

Write less palatable stories.

I feel like I mostly accomplished that. I only signed up for one fest, though I wrote for two, so that's close enough.

I only published those two fics, plus one other:

Vis-à-Vis-à-Vis (49,999 words):  Subscriptions: 12  Hits: 8,763  Kudos: 529  Comment Threads: 101  Bookmarks: 274

WHISKY-TANGO-FOXTROT (58,810 words) Subscriptions: 12  Hits: 8,057  Kudos: 400  Comment Threads: 61  Bookmarks: 178

For Sale by Owner: Rose Weasley-Granger's Virginity (30,761 words) Subscriptions: 30  Hits: 8,010  Kudos: 541  Comment Threads: 127  Bookmarks: 221

Here's some general stats, because people put stats in these posts. This wordcount is grossly inflated due to Peculiar Prompts getting counted, as well as WIPs:

Kudos:2,582 Comment Threads:388 Bookmarks:1,012 Subscriptions:309 Word Count:241,685 Hits:39,115

Overall take:

That's about half as many words as 2021, and a quarter the overall engagement. Wallflower mode activated.

2022 Mission: Be weird. Get unpopular. Status: Accomplished.

None of that slow burn love confession crap from 2021. This year, we face-stomped and monster-fucked. And a m/f fic. That surprised people.

2023 Goals: Run a very small, closed fest. Finish three WIPs, two of which are already posting. Write even less, but write even whumpier shit. Have a Come to Jesus meeting with WIPs over a year old and make some decisions. Don't start any new WIPs. We have WIPs at home.

Thanks, everybody! And have a (crosses fingers, throws salt)... great 2023? Please? Universe? We'd settle for an uneventful 2023. Come on.

[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!

[perfectlullabies]

since this dreadful year is finally coming to an end, here’s my DIARY ENTRY because i feel like writing it all down (well, just a short summary of some of the things that have happened)

let’s start with the way i finished 2021. i had a severe panic attack in a supermarket when i was on my way to weronika’s to spend new year’s eve together and had trouble calming down for over two hours. thankfully i took some meds, changed my clothes, called my mom and cooled off. not exactly a great sign for the upcoming year, was it?

first four months were pretty much uneventful, i was doing fairly well at uni even though i still had online classes. i was hoping to get a job (did not get it eventually). at the end of january i started taking meds which definitely helped a lot with my ocd i’d had since childhood and i also applied for therapy 

then may 16th happened - your usual monday. the day before i was watching eurovision with weronika, having a great time drinking beer etc. morning after when i was drinking my coffee i got a phone call from my distressed mom. i immediately knew something terrible must have happened, i could hear it in her voice and the way i heard my aunt in the car with her. they never got together unless something was Happening. my mom called me straight from the place the accident took place. she was talking to me as she looked at the car wreck and her deceased mother on the ground, with the police still guarding the place. my 73 year old grandmother, who had just started her retirement after 50 years of working as a pediatrician, had been killed instantly in a violent car crash - a truck had driven right into her side of the car because the man had lost consciousness while driving due to brain tumor. my grandparents were on the way to the oncology centre bc my grandfather had been terminally ill. so that day my grandma decided to drive him to the centre, usually she wouldn’t do that

my grandfather survived the accident itself but passed away two weeks later on may 29th due to severe injuries and ongoing illness. the accident sped up the process. i said goodbye to him and promised him to visit him again - i didn’t have that opportunity

i hadn’t talked to my grandmother since 2017. we had a very complicated relationship, you could say we were estranged. we used to be very close prior to that. not gonna get into details because i find it irrelevant right now. however i wish i had a chance to apolgize to her and for her to have the chance to apologize to me and my parents. we never got the opportunity to reconcile. i hate to think about it

after the accident came funerals, just two weeks apart

my whole family’s crumbled, there’s an ongoing WAR that my abusive uncle and godmother initiated. no details here either, just know that when i use the word abuse i really mean it all - physical, psychological, financial. all kinds

from the very start it was me and my mom who took care of most things. we cleaned the flat back in june, we then cleaned the flat again back in august and today we emptied the basement and the rest of the furniture and stuff from the flat that has been sold. none of my cousins helped - instead they sent me disgraceful messages on facebook

i’ve just come back from their flat, having thrown out most of their stuff that was left there. i’m tired, pissed off and so melancholic

this year has shown me that people don’t have much empathy, pity and kindness in them. nobody helped us, nobody cared. none of my so called friends or relatives cared - they still don’t. people think that when such a tragedy happens, it’s over within a month or so. it’s been 7 months now and the things we’re dealing with have NOT been as intense ever before. everything takes months or even years here. it’s not easy. no understanding for it either 

we had some terribly macabre and grotesque ‘’adventures’’ in the meantime such as having to deal with the funeral home who accidentally sold our 2nd burial place to some other family (they ended up digging up some deceased man. unimaginable)

around september i had to resign from therapy i had been attending from late april to late september because my therapist had been the most unhelpful, ABUSIVE so called mental health professional i’ve ever encountered. she further made me believe i am somehow responsible for the things that happened, also relating to my family past as some kind of ‘’curse’’ - as you know, my grandmother’s brother and his wife were killed in a similar car crash back in 1978. so she told me we were cursed. anyway it’s over and done with, i’m no longer seeing her and i won’t ever attend therapy again. gross 

in 2022 i had been ill at least 5 or 6 times, each time ending up on heavy medication. so did my parents. my dad had to resign from his job because of health issues and other things. i am very worried abt my parents on daily basis

i haven’t slept well since may. i have nightmares, truly awful ones. almost always involving our trauma. i had shown many ptsd symptoms and i dearly hope it won’t develop further. but who knows at this point

when it comes to uni and everyday problems - my thesis supervisor proved to be especially unhelpful. i haven’t touched my thesis since may and i don’t know when i’m gonna continue. uni doesn’t help with anything, i’m all alone with everything there, more so than ever before 

i have no support from anyone - it’s just me and my parents out there. doing everything, dealing with everything. on top of it all we received no money from the insurance companies - NONE AT ALL. two people have been killed. we get nothing from it

the man who killed them hasn’t contacted us, not even a message with an apology. nothing

and now the global things - ongoing pandemic and the terrifying war in ukraine which is so close to us. my heart goes out to all ukrainians, i love them all dearly, they’re like beloved family to polish people ALWAYS. i’ve got nothing but unconditional love and support for them

2022 made me believe that there is not much kindness in this world. not much pity and understanding. no empathy. no one cares and life goes on and this is the lesson i’ve learnt this year. you die and nothing happens - that’s what the terrifying truth looks like 

[kdramalands]

year-end drama recommendation

Welcome, come on in. A whole year has passed, and it's finally time for me to emerge from my review cave again to show you my shiniest picks for this year. I'm glad to be back!

I hope 2022 was kind to you.

For me it was mostly uneventful, slightly challenging, and a bit turbulent at the end, but I emerge victorious. Maybe I'm wiser now, maybe I'm weaker, maybe more emotional than I was last year, or maybe I'm just different. But I'm here with another year-end recommendations to show you what entertained my days and allowed me to enter my escapism bubble even just for a moment.

I will present top 4 j-dramas from all Japanese series I watched this year. Starting from today, 28th of December, all the way up till 31st of December, New Year's Eve, I will post one recommendation a day. As always, I hope my list for 2022 will be well received and maybe it will convince you to check something out. I proudly present

1. Kanojo wa kirei datta/She Was Pretty (2021)

10 eps, 60min each

If you recognise this title and concept, you may have seen the original, Korean, version of this drama, She Was Pretty from 2015, or any of the remakes that's been made of this story: Chinese Pretty Li Hui Zhen (2017) or Thai Me Always You (2021).

Kanojo wa kirei datta tells a story of two childhood friends who, after a long time apart, decide to meet again. Hasebe Sosuke is a confident handsome man who's successful in his career, while Sato Ai struggles not only with her self-esteem but also with finding a job, which left her self-conscious about her abilities as well. Ai decides to lie about her identity to Sosuke, which causes a lot of misunderstandings and damage.

This story may seem superficial with how the romance plotline proceeds, but Ai's journey of rebuilding herself found a special place in my heart. I loved watching Ai starting to care more, accept more people into her life, and feel confident in her work. Koshiba Fuka's character is very lovable and relatable to many people who feel lost.

For those of you who watched Korean version, Japanese She Was Pretty offers a 6-hour-shorter experience that will feel lighter because setting and office drama don't take over the main romantic storyline as much. However, compared to k-drama, this version is more fast paced and more straightforward, so it may seem rushed at times.

Part 2 || Part 3 || Part 4

[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.

[megbox]

2022 Year In Review

Previous Posts: (2021)(2020)(2019)(2018)(2017)(2016)(2015)(2014)(2013)(2012)(2011)

As I sit here to write this, I am devoid of any profound takeaways or overarching themes to assign to 2022. It's not that nothing happened. On all accounts, it was actually an incredibly eventful year. But in some ways, it feels like all the same stuff. I continue to fall for the wrong people and act out when they behave exactly how one might predict them to. I continue to love running. I continue to advance in my career. I guess the new things about 2022 are that I have had to reckon with some serious changes to my lifestyle due to underlying health conditions that I have only recently become aware of, and I took on the additional challenge of starting graduate school. However, both of these things ultimately push me to be a better person. Particularly graduate school has been the kind of wake up call my brain needed. I can complain all I want about being busy but the reality is that I fucking love it. I love learning statistics and getting a 94% on my assignment and contributing in class discussions and reading articles and actually having takes on them because I'm a real deal professional. It's been good for my ego, if anything else.

And so I present once more: the annual year in review.

January

Sigh. Until I sat down to write this, I completely forgot that I had an entire boyfriend at the beginning of 2022. When I find myself lamenting about the lack of romance in my life, quickly remembering Bryan always does the trick to snap me back into reality. On paper, it should have worked out. Bryan was (is) a great guy, he cared about me and went out of his way to demonstrate that to me. He liked to run. He brought me flowers on Valentine’s Day and once drove two hours out of his way from Canmore to Calgary and back just to drop me off before he went ski touring. We spent a week together in his family’s absurdly beautiful Canmore condo, quarantining after Maddy woke up on January 1 with a positive COVID test after we’d been sharing drinks all night, watching Netflix documentaries about climbing, going in the hot tub, ordering ramen and having a ton of sex.

Dating him felt like dunking my face in ice water. It felt like finally seeing a movie that everyone else has been talking about for years and all the little references in other movies make sense in your brain. It was like… you can ask for that from a boyfriend? And as much as I enjoyed the way he liked me, my stupid brain could not figure out a way to reciprocate those feelings. My friends told me to wait it out, they reminded me that I tend to choose the wrong people and that maybe a slow burn is exactly what I needed. They were totally right. And so I resolved to wait, to give things an earnest chance to develop. But they didn’t. I realized I needed to break up with him when Maddy and I were driving back from Edmonton after a weekend visit with our then-boyfriends. As Maddy gushed about how great of a weekend she had and how she couldn’t wait to see Audla again, I stared at my reflection in the car window, nodding along but feeling a sense of dread creep over me as I reconciled with the fact that I was definitely going to have to break up with the nicest guy I had ever dated.

Hm, January was relatively uneventful. I did a lot of very cold winter running, and Wordle took over my life and the lives of my loved ones.

February

A spin studio opened up approximately one minute away from my apartment in Mission with an unlimited first month deal for $39, so I recall February as the month I became a spin class bitch. February was bitterly cold, and I was still working from home at the time with no other gym membership so it came at a good time. I do love spin class. I went almost every single day, sometimes twice a day. I like the electronic remixes of every song, I like the choreography, I like staring at myself in the mirror on the bike thinking “yes, bitch! Get it!”

I broke up with Bryan. On Valentine’s Day, actually. It was kind of strange. He was in Canmore for a bachelor party the weekend before, and had planned to spend the evening of Valentine’s Day with me because a) girlfriend and b) prevent driving 4 hours from Banff to Edmonton after bachelor party. So even though we had “broken up”, I said he was welcome to still stay here. He definitely thought he was getting laid. I guess you can’t blame him, but… he was not. That was the last day I saw him. We keep each other on social media and toss each other a Strava kudos here and there and that is just fine by me. He has a new girlfriend now who appreciates all of the wonderful things he does the way he deserves.

Ironically, both of these things led to the almost-immediate resurgence of a past lover. Like a karmic message from the universe – here was someone who I never questioned my attraction to. But I’d given up on it when I met Bryan. He lived only a few blocks away from me, and works as a paramedic out of a nearby hospital. As if on cue, he emerged one morning on 4 Street, walking past me in his North Face coat and black Vans. We locked eyes for a split second as I left spin class at 6:50am. Extreme restraint was exercised in not turning around to watch him after I realized who it was. I laughed at the coincidence, smirked, sent a few “Omg guess who I just saw?” text messages and forgot about it. He messaged me a photo he’d taken on our first date with no context a week later.

The Olympics were also on in February and I delighted in spending a lot of time watching snowboarding, skiing, and figure skating while I ate soup dumplings. The Olympics even inspired me to take my own cross country skiing lesson through Active Living at the University. Frankly, a bold move because I signed up all by myself and drove out to Kananaskis and tried a new thing which is highly uncharacteristic. I vividly remember thinking my car was going to run out of gas, and mentally preparing for how I was going to deal with that on Highway 40 with no cell service, I was counting down the kilometres when as if by fate a gas station appeared on the side of the road. I could have cried. I would’ve been so screwed.

March

From March 4-6, I completed the Goggins 4x4x48 challenge. I attempted it last year and failed, and so I was determined this year to do things right. To increase accountability, even though it pained me to do this publicly, I did it as a fundraiser for CommunityWise. I would say that the first ~4 rounds were fun. Lucas stayed over and ran with me outdoors for the midnight and 4:00am runs. There is something so deliciously unhinged about running four miles at 4:00am through the streets of Rideau Park, blasting ABBA. Lucas was also the person waiting for me at the very end of the challenge almost two days later, with a package of macarons and a smile. I feel this experience cemented Lucas and I as really close friends. My quads were aching so hard I could barely walk, I was so sleep deprived that by night two I was in the worst mood and just snapping at everybody, but miraculously we got it done. 77km in 48 hours, and I raised over $1,000 for CommunityWise. I took the Monday off of work but oddly, didn’t even need it. Will I be braving the Goggins challenge again? No. Well… never say never. But also, never.

I also facilitated my first ASIST workshop in March. By a lot of standards, this is an unremarkable thing. But for me, I have a lot of pride in being certified to facilitate ASIST because I feel like it is such a representation of my professional development as a social worker. Two days, eight hours of facilitation per day and it’s not easy. But having jumped through the hoops to become trained, and really just being trusted to teach people these skills and walk them through these difficult conversations. It is one of the most tangible ways in my job I get to actually help my community and have an impact and it feels good. Selfishly, the feedback I receive after every ASIST feels so validating and I’m very proud of myself for having this skill and being an ASIST trainer.

Paramedic Man (also known as, The Short King) and I hung out a few days after I’d finished the Goggins challenge. I remember it was International Women’s Day, and he’d playfully roast me and I’d say, “you can’t say that on International Women’s Day.” I went to the fancy liquor store in Mission and told the salesperson I had a first date, he recommended some wine and said it will for sure get you laid. He was right. I settled into the familiar anxiety of an unpredictable, bread crumb-y situationship. I didn’t think about Bryan at all.

April

I made an unhinged decision (shocker) and accepted an offer from a different previous lover (look, if you take one thing away from this Year in Review, let it me that I am a slut) to come visit him in Squamish over my birthday weekend. I want to be explicitly clear that accepting this offer was not sketchy. Emma and I had met him on our trip the previous summer and he was a perfect gentleman. Carbon restructuring engineer with a penchant for cocktails who took us to a secret cidery. I was legitimately excited but that trip turned out to be the biggest flop of all time. I’m not sure I’ve ever seen such rampant alcoholism up close like that. I don’t know if I didn’t notice it back in August or if things had taken a decline since last summer. The first night was actually good. He picked me up, having just “come from work” he said, and we had a few drinks at the condo he shared with his roommates and their dates, and then we went to a beautiful concert at the Brackendale Art Gallery. We split a bottle of wine and he showered me in compliments and I was like hell yeah, this is what I came here for. The next morning, he was… incapacitated. Literally. He was rocked by such a forceful hangover that there’s simply no way the only alcohol he consumed was that wine. He was literally tremoring! He had promised me a hike to a secret sauna that only the locals knew about. When we finally managed to get him out of bed around 2:00pm, we set out to find the sauna, he forgot where it was and then called it quits. We went for sushi lunch and he ordered a glass of chardonnay and then said he couldn’t stomach anything else. We got back to his place around 4:30pm and he put Rush Hour 2 on Netflix and promptly fell asleep. His roommates had begun their nightly ritual of drinking immediately upon getting home from work so I went down to join them, leaving him in bed. They drank, and drank, and drank. I was so desperate to get the fuck out of there. He was supposed to drive me into Vancouver the next morning to catch my flight but his roommates were going to Whistler to go snowboarding. At one point, clearly having realized I was having the worst time of my life, he asked if I’d be okay with it if he bought me a bus ticket and dropped me off. I was overjoyed. I went to bed and he did not return until 4:00am. My bus was at 6:00am. He was absolutely still drunk when he dropped me off at the bus. I waited until I was within city limits, blocked him on Instagram and have never spoken to him again. Lesson learned. However – the funniest thing to come out of that whole experience was that I was in such shock at the disarray of this man’s life since August that I was constantly updating my friends and I just put everyone in a group chat. At one point I sent a photo of his couch and kitchen counter to illustrate my point and the roasts that came out of that… honestly, maybe worth it.

April was also a special time because I received my acceptance to the Master of Public Health program at the University of Alberta. Just a few days before my birthday! I had kind of forgotten about that application, to be honest, and at that point had no idea how I was going to arrange it with work or pay for it or any of those details. But I can’t deny that receiving that email made my day. It felt good to have a plan, a next step. And you can’t deny that an MPH holds a lot more weight than a BSW or a fricking journalism degree.

May  

Okay, May was actually a very important month of this year. So many of the major things that unfolded over the year can be linked back to origins in May.

Of particular note, the Pet Rabbit Debacle. Paramedic Man knew just how to activate my anxious attachment style and kept making plans with me only to cancel at the last minute. I got mad at him for this and he promised to make it up to me. He came over but was clearly distracted by something on his phone. He kept apologizing, and though I didn’t ask any questions he offered the excuse: “My friend’s pet rabbit ate something potentially poisonous and she’s just freaking out.” I said to him, “if you need to go, you can go” but he declined. At one point, I asked what the rabbit’s name was. “Scully,” he said. “Like, from X Files?” “Yeah, exactly.” I was annoyed. It sounded like the worst possible excuse you could ever use to get out of a date but then he didn’t even have the courage to actually leave. I resolved to stop putting in any effort with him. In the coming days, the Instagram algorithm gave me a precious gift. It’s a tale as old as time, really. He posted something on Instagram, a comment from a girl I recognized as his ex-girlfriend, I visited her page, she posted a photo of a pet rabbit, the rabbit has an account of its own, the rabbit’s name is Scully. The puzzle clicked together in my head. Part of me was like, okay, so the rabbit is real. The other part is like, but… it’s his ex’s rabbit. Now this is where the meddling begins. I noticed she had a mutual follower with a friend of mine from the Famoso days. I texted him, “how do you know her?” Innocently. He said, “she’s my manager at X bar, why?” I asked him, “do you know if she has a boyfriend?” “Yeah, insert Paramedic Man’s name here. Why?” Oops.

I also signed up for (was recruited for, actually) the Kananaskis 100 Mile Relay. Which was really the impetus I needed to get running more seriously in advance of Sinister 7 after having a very lazy spring.

I presented at a conference on May 14, on my Peer Listening program and how to embed peer support into larger networks of formal support. Other post-secondary staff workers attended from all over Alberta. Another check mark for professional development and social worker pride.

On May 16, I donated blood for the first time! This was perhaps the most crucial moment of my entire year, and in a domino effect kind of way, truly changed the course of my life forever and no, I am not kidding. The actual first donation was very uneventful. I walked to the blood clinic, focused on a grey spot on the wall while they took my blood and tried not to faint, downed a Sprite and some Cheetos and went on with my life. Because I am a data nerd, I downloaded the GiveBlood app. A few days later, my “stats” appeared in my account. Hemoglobin. Bleed time.

I spent the May long weekend in Meota, Saskatchewan with Ali, her mom, her stepdad, and his dad, Maurice. We referred to it as her “bachelor party.” It was the kind of perfect weekend that you can only have with someone you love and trust so dearly. I felt like a little kid again, returning to the lakes of Saskatchewan. We went fishing and although I caught a fish both times, I screamed whenever it came near me. Ali and I filmed TikTok dances on the deck late at night. We watched a hockey game and explored the tiny town of Meota with its beautiful golf courses. We went “jeeping” – a Saskatchewan pastime I had not yet experienced but instantly loved until we went to explore a creek and instantly got covered in ticks. If I get Lyme disease, it’s from that creek, for sure.

June

June meant a lot of running. It was like the running equivalent of staying up until 4am the night before a big exam trying to cram knowledge into your brain. Emma’s team from BLG for the Kananaskis 100-Mile Relay had asked me to run a leg, and we had Sinister 7 coming up in the first weekend of July. I had really slacked off in the spring, so I was forced to reconcile this by committing myself to 5-6 weeks (an abysmal amount of time for this calibre of race, unfortunately) of dedicated training. Knowing what I know now about my health at this time of the year, it makes sense why it did not really work. But I appreciated past-me’s hustle.

The actual day of the K-100 was one of my favourite experiences of the year. I asked the team captain, Jared, if I could ride with him in the crew car. We spent like, sixteen hours together in that car. Jared and I had known of one another for a long time through Emma and through the larger running community in Calgary but that day was the first time we had actually had the chance to meet. I have perhaps never hit it off with someone so quickly.  Someone else whose idea of an amazing day is to run 100 miles of Highway 40 with your friends in the summer. My leg went… okay. I took off SO fast, way too fast, and then the rest of my leg was uphill so I did a lot of walk/jogging. It’s actually so sad that this race came at this point in the year. I am capable of so much MORE. But hopefully at some point in the future I am offered an opportunity to redeem myself.

But the absolute best part of June and also one of the best parts of this whole year was that Ali and Cody got married! I had the honour of being a bridesmaid and it was such an incredible day. The bridal party got to Ali’s early and in typical Ceaser fashion there was an absolute SPREAD of every conceivable breakfast and brunch item your heart could ever desire. We got hair and makeup done, drank a lot of mimosas, listened to a lot of romantic pop music, shared a lot of tears. When the torrential downpour started 90 minutes before the ceremony, everyone bit their tongues. Riding to Reader Rock Garden with Matt and another one of the bridesmaids as the rain hit the windshield so fast the wipers could barely keep up, and the cab driver cringed and said, “you said you guys are going to an outdoor wedding?” And it was silent. But in the most beautiful stroke of luck, the sun broke through the clouds like five minutes before the ceremony and Reader Rock Garden was absolutely glistening with fresh raindrops falling off of every radiantly green leaf and flower and my fake eyelashes. I sobbed… absolutely SOBBED when Ali walked down the aisle and through most of that ceremony. Ali is my first friend to get married which somehow just makes sense. But to see it all come together just did something special to my heart. It helps that she married the best guy in the entire world who I also love dearly. Watching something like that happen just makes all of the tears you cried together about much shittier dudes feel irrelevant, barely a blip on the universe of life.

July

So, so much happened in July. It earns bullet points:

I participated in my very first Sinister 7! Sinister 7 was such a fucking trip. It felt like being on the amazing race. Seven Kings Popping Off did exactly what we said we were going to do and absolutely popped off, finishing third (but then were bumped up to second because the second place team was all dudes and were incorrectly registered... #men) for the mixed relay teams. 161km and thousands of meters of elevation gain over seven runners. I contributed objectively the least to this win. If I am being honest, runningwise I did not have the most fun at Sinister 7. I performed poorly, injured myself, and was basically just like the personality hire of the team. Again, I know I am capable of so much more and I look forward to one day being able to show that. But the actual experience of being at the race was incredible. The camaraderie between our team, meeting Elspeth who ran a 50-miler and then hit the Cowboys tent at Stampede the next night, having Reid come out and stay with us and absolutely CRUSH his leg. I felt delirious by the end of it, trudging back into the Airbnb at 3:00am, my drunkness long dissolved.

THEN we visited Eugene for World Athletics Championships. God, there's so much I could write but my focus and patience in crafting this year in review is waning. Highlights: MEETING CRAIG ENGELS AT THE NIKE STORE. Seeing the Canadian men's 4x100m team upset the Americans in the final. Lovely's Fifty Fifty.

And then I topped off my wonderful trip away with a return to Big Valley Jamboree. Inspired by my wonderful friends. Lots of magic mushrooms were consumed. "Chef's Table." The death of Matt's Van. Tim McGraw. Love. Friendship. Margaritas.

August

I decided to focus on heart-rate based training after being in Oregon (and Sinister 7) and seeing all of these effortless distance runners in Alton Baker Park. Again, knowing what I know now about my health, it makes sense that this did not really work. But I have to admit the heart rate training did recalibrate my approach to running. It did amazing things for my stress levels, my mileage was extremely high. While it may not have helped my heart rate come down, there is absolutely merit to integrating phases of heart rate based training in the future and that was valuable learning.

I started school! And what a start it was. A two week, intensive, eight-hours-a-day block week course in which they simulated a flood and gave us harsh deadlines and made us work in teams of twelve. This experience was rendered even more stressful by the fact that what had started out in such a wholesome, lovely way with Jared had now lapsed into long response times. Or just no responses at all. I was simultaneously frustrated with his behaviour and frustrated at myself for letting yet another boy get in the way of being able to apply myself to my work, to my program, and to my own wellbeing. A simple, “hey, we should hang out soon J” text message to somebody who has been pursuing you left unanswered for an entire week. I hate who I become when this happens to me. Checking my phone incessantly. Then muting the notifications anyway because then maybe it’ll spontaneously be there. But it’s not there, ever. The response I was so desperately craving came a week later when I was at Globalfest with Connor. I don’t think we should pursue this. I don’t want to compromise the friend group or our running group. Cue eyeroll. Like, just tell me her name already. I say that now but admittedly, I was pretty devastated.

Another great part about August was that we played in a slow pitch tournament in Okotoks. This was the birth of our new team: Hawaii 5-Slo. Which is the product of a divorce from our previous team, We’d Hit That, where the competitive assholes among us split from the let’s-just-drink-beer-who-cares. I don’t think I need to clarify which team I ended up on. The tournament was actually crazy because it was torrentially bad weather. At one point, we ended up in the Blackfly tent being plied with free 7% bottled margaritas as we watched our paltry tents across the field get whipped by the wind. We played a few games, did poorly, attempted to wait it out and ultimately bailed to spend the night at Megan Kemper’s place in Okotoks which was ABSOLUTELY the right move. We ordered pizza, I took a shower, slept in a real bed. The best part of this tournament was that the team who defeated us in the second morning approached me after the game and asked if I would consider playing with them for the finals because they needed an extra girl. I said yes, went to finals, WON! and made a whole bunch of new friends. I even drove from that game into the city to play another game with them for their CSSC league that night, and continued to sub for them through the fall season.

September

This is where the story of this year becomes much more concerned with my health. In early September, I went for a second blood donation. During the pre-test, they measured my hemoglobin as is standard practice and the nurse noted to me that mine was quite low. No cause for concern, he said, but maybe check it out with your doctor. When my stats showed up in the GiveBlood app (because of course I check my stats), I noted that my hemoglobin was like, really low. Low enough that if it was any lower they would not have taken my blood that day. So I called and got an appointment with my family doctor. She waved it off but said she’d do a blood test just to check. I left the office requisition in hand and promptly stuck it to the side of my fridge on a magnet where it stayed for many many weeks.

The rest of September is a bit of a blur, to be honest. This is where I began the delicate juggling act of full time work, school, running, and just generally living my life.

October

So many things happened in October!

On October 1, I moved to Bridgeland into a really nice little two bedroom apartment with Maddy. Let me tell you, people, Bridgeland is where it’s AT. I had been sleeping on this neighbourhood but it’s easily become my favourite place I have ever lived. I brought all my furniture and Maddy brought all her knick-knacks and plants and our apartment is so fucking cute. My extroverted self also definitely appreciates having a friend and a roommate around. Some people might view moving in with a roommate after living on your own as like, a step backward. But after that lonely pandemic – why would I not take a nicer place, cheaper rent, and company? Please. Definitely one of the best choices I made this year.

I also ran in the Grizzly Ultra! I ran on a team with Rob, and Emma ran her first 50k ultra as a soloist. It was an incredibly beautiful day out in Canmore, like could not ask for a better day. I ran way better than I thought I could! And Rob and I managed to come third for the mixed teams (we really should have come second if I had hustled a little harder at the end). Emma did so well in her solo race and then we went back to the hotel room and drank beers and watched Forrest Gump on the hotel television.

Taylor Swift released Midnights on October 22. I went to a listening party at Carly’s and enjoyed every millisecond of it but especially how excited Carly was.

I played in a snow pitch tournament which, in typical CSSC slow pitch tournament fashion, was a mess. They even had it earlier this year to lessen the chances of this happening but there was SO MUCH SNOW. And it was thick, wet snow. The ball would basically immediately stop wherever it landed on the pitch. It made for an interesting day, that’s for sure. But we managed to win the tournament. And I slept with my teammate after. So, that actually makes me 2 for 2 in getting laid after snow pitch tournaments. And all is right with the world.

I woke up on the morning of October 29 to not one but two late night messages! One of which was from Jared. It’s like clockwork. Give it two, maybe three months and you wake up to a message like the one I got. You would think I would learn. But of course, I never do.

November

In November, I finally got around to getting my blood test and was confirmed to be suffering from severe anemia iron deficiency. This made sense. Symptoms began to piece together a story explained from the viewpoint of anemia. That mid-afternoon tiredness I thought I was curing with a “adrenal cocktail”? The unreasonably high heart rate and lack of progress despite months and months of dedicated training? The coldness and numbness? The frequent headaches? The change I felt when I started on iron pills was incredible.

I also registered for the Saskatchewan Marathon in November, which was scary and exciting at the same time. Me, former racer of the 100m and 200m dash, taking on the 42,200m.

More happened with Jared and I in November but I honestly… don’t want to talk about it. And this is literally my blog so I can write whatever the fuck I want. Let’s just leave it at: he wasn’t very kind. I wish it had never happened.

December

So, here is where the life altering news comes in. In the absence of any glaring cause for anemia, it is standard practice to screen for celiac disease. This is because people with undiagnosed celiac disease often have damage to their intestines that is causing the malabsorption of nutrients. My doctor explained this to me and requested that I have another blood test done. I was so certain that I was not celiac that I did not think anything of getting this test done.

But on December 6, 2022 in my office on My Health Records – I was shocked to see that my level of antibodies were literally off the charts. They were so high they were at a level unmeasurable to the test. I texted my brother. “That’s positive for celiac.”

On December 7, 2022 a call from my doctor’s office. “You’re sure it can’t be anything else?” I asked, desperate. “This is pretty much what we would call a slam dunk, from a diagnostic perspective,” she told me. What ensued was a 72-hour mental breakdown that rivals any heartbreak or trauma I’ve been through before. I don’t know how to explain it. I could. not. stop. crying. Could not stop thinking about everything I can’t do. Everything I can’t eat. Everything I can’t participate in. I had to take like, 10 melatonins just to sleep at night. I cried every time someone said something to me at work. I hid in my office and forced myself to eat Lara bars. But I also just didn’t eat for three days because food suddenly seemed scary, and like the enemy. If I am to be completely honest, I think a large part of this emotional reaction to the diagnosis was also sadness at thinking about my poor body. It may not have felt sick but it was really sick. And I knew something was wrong. Would I have guessed this? No. But I think about all of the work I put this body through and how much I cherish what it does for me and allows me to do. And the fact that I have been really sick. For maybe a really long time. Made me sad. So it was grieving but in a way, also relief. With diagnosis comes labels. It comes restrictions. It comes lifestyle changes. But it also comes answers, explanations, cures. Celiac disease is the only auto immune disease for which there is a full cure. Just don’t eat gluten and your intestines heal and life goes on.

Another piece of life altering news that I got actually a few hours post-celiac diagnosis was that I got a huge promotion and a $12,000 raise at my job. This promotion and raise is absolutely deserved. I work really fucking hard and have been really underpaid at this job for a long time. But given that I’m in a union, it took a lot of advocating for myself and proving my worth to my team in order to be in this position. We are NOT in Kansas anymore. This is serious, real deals social work and I am extremely proud of myself for working my way up to this level in just three years.

2023

In 2023, I look forward to taking control of my health and seeing what a gluten free life does for my mind and body and spirit and intestines. I am already seeing huge progress in my running and I can’t wait to build on it and just… be healthy.

I have SO many good concert tickets in 2023. Death Cab for Cutie (twice), Alvvays, Andy Shauf, Blink 182, Taylor fricking Swift, The Postal Service. Lots of music related travel. A tentative trip to Palm Springs for Stagecoach at the end of April. So much to look forward to.

I also am excited to dedicate myself to marathon training and see what I can do on May 28in Saskatoon!

[dragonshifter-minecraft]

I posted 135 times in 2022

That's 101 more posts than 2021!

42 posts created (31%)

93 posts reblogged (69%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@giant-tiny-squid

@oh-i-need-a-name

@leetlezeetle

@arc852

@bittydragon

I tagged 135 of my posts in 2022

#reblog - 91 posts

#mcyt g/t - 75 posts

#tw language - 54 posts

#l speaks - 33 posts

#tw vore - 26 posts

#my writing - 25 posts

#mcyt - 22 posts

#dream team - 21 posts

#tw vore mention - 21 posts

#dragonshifter story - 21 posts

Longest Tag: 76 characters

#so i copied the text from this into notes and deciphered it letter-by-letter

My Top Posts in 2022:

(tw: vore below the cut!)

#5

Submitted by Anonymous:

“Hi!! I really enjoy the story you've made and totally forgot to send this when I made it (I think it was sometime before the second part was done) but this is just a little sketch I made based off the designs you made :0) Hope you like it and I'm excited to keep reading the story!”

Dude I am in LOVE with this. The accuracy of the designs paired with the beautifully detailed linework, it’s just gorgeous! also George’s grumpy little face is sending me

I can’t thank you enough for creating this, Anon!

14 notes - Posted September 26, 2022

#4

Chapter 35 - Dragon Hunters

[Previous] ~ [Next]

[Word Count: 2638]

[Content Warnings: Injury and Blood, Non-Graphic Treatment of Wound]

The dragons had both swiftly rushed in to snuff out the fiery monsters, all while more continued to ignite from the spawner. At every opportunity, the Enderfolk was loosing arrows that almost always met their marks, while the human would hold them frozen in place so someone else could deal with them. Before long, Sapnap had managed to fill the satchel with a couple dozen rods.

“Dream, I don’t think I can fit any more blaze rods in here,” he mentioned to the green beast, who had just been poised to strike as soon as the next wave of living infernos appeared.

“We probably have enough, then,” Dream mentioned, relaxing a bit as he knelt down further for the dark-haired man to climb up, “let’s get outta here.”

The blue dragon did the same, though his wither-scaled paw moved gingerly. It still hurt somewhat, but it also felt partially numb, and that almost worried him more.

“George, you good to fly home?” the other beast inquired suddenly, concern in his voice.

“Yeah, I think so,” George hummed, standing as he felt Bad get situated on his back, “I have no idea where we came from, though.”

“I know the way,” Dream declared, unfurling his wings, “just follow me.”

Respective wingbeats sent the two dragons soaring upwards and away from the fortress, warm thermals rising beneath them and bearing them back the way they’d come.

The red, cavern-like landscape sped past on all sides. The flight was shaping up to be just as uneventful as it had been the first time through, though the group did notice a pale, ghostlike creature floating lazily in the distance, barely visible through the thick fog. It didn’t pay the pair of dragons any mind, which was probably for the best.

Soon enough, the giant black-bricked bastion came in view once again, and the two beasts took a sharp turn to follow the bend in the cavernous terrain.

They had just barely gotten past the crumbling structure when a thunderous roar rang out all around them.

George let out a startled shriek, jostling Bad as he faltered in mid-air, frantically trying to look around to see what could have made such a sound. Was it some giant creature that they had somehow missed entirely? Was it what Dream had really been afraid of in the Nether?

The green dragon had panicked momentarily as well, slowing his flight to drop behind the other beast as he glanced quickly around for the source of the terrible roar. To his ears, it was vaguely familiar, but it had sounded nothing like George. Were there more dragons nearby?

And then, the faint snapping of a crossbow string heralded a sudden pain exploding in one of Dream’s hind legs, something hard and sharp piercing through his scales and embedding itself in his flesh.

There was a second, terrible squall – and this time, it had come from him.

“Dream!” Sapnap shouted from his back, panic and worry in his voice.

“What was that?!” he distantly registered the Enderfolk questioning.

“What happened?” George demanded.

They needed to get out of here!

“Go, just go!” the green dragon bellowed knowingly, flapping his wings to propel himself faster, thermals be damned. “Back to the portal, hurry!”

He peered behind them as they sped away, briefly catching a glimpse of two humanoid figures – one appearing mostly beige and the other one light blue. They definitely weren’t Piglins…

Up ahead, the portal was a gleaming beacon of purple that shone through the red, ember-filled haze. They were nearly home! They just had to survive a little longer, and then they’d be safe!

George glided down ahead of Dream, landing somewhat shakily, but not losing his footing this time.

The green beast came down to land beside him, but as he prepared to meet the ground, white-hot agony surged through his stricken hind leg. His wings wavered as he tried to steady himself, flapping clumsily as he descended the last several feet. As his strength gave out entirely, he ultimately crashed down hard against the uneven crimson stone underfoot.

Thankfully, the human perched on his back hadn’t fallen off despite the rough landing, instead hurriedly scrambling to climb down and figure out what was going on.

Dream didn’t get up, his aching leg stretched out to the side to avoid aggravating it further. Streaks of red glistened in the lava-light as they dripped down the once-pristine green scales.

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15 notes - Posted October 1, 2022

#3

Chapter 23 - Dragon Fire

[Previous] ~ [Next]

[Word Count: 2355]

[Content Warnings: Fear | Brief Smoke Inhalation]

After the Dragonshifter’s disappearance, Nick couldn’t bring himself to pick up magic again. It just wouldn’t feel right, knowing the two of them had gotten so far, only for everything to come collapsing down. He hadn’t even told his family what had happened, fearing what terrible things they might say about Clay out of ignorance.

He had only been a part of Nick’s life for a little while. And while he still cherished the memories, time marched on. No more spellcasting. No more best friend to share it with.

He spent a while trying to figure out what he wanted to do with his life. He’d considered the town guard, but he didn’t really want to be associated with the same people that took his best friend from him. A few other small jobs came and went, but nothing really spoke to him. Finally, he took up simple sewing and stitching. His mother was already one of the best tailors in Hearthview, and with his sisters picking up the trade in order to branch out into embroidery and dressmaking, he was in a good position to learn.

As his sisters found success, the whole family would end up moving to a few other towns, each with bigger and better opportunities than the last. One way or another, they ended up in Bronzechill. It was a fairly large settlement, and business was even more booming than it had been at the prior town. It was less than a day’s walk to a large city, Knightport, which boasted a rich and thriving market district. His family was ultimately aspiring to run a market stall there, or even better, a whole brick and mortar shop!

Nick helped wherever he could. He would help with a lot of the busywork, such as pinning patterns, cutting fabrics, and stitching seams together. That wasn’t to say the rest of his family didn’t work hard, though – in fact, they were probably far more involved in the process than he was. They’d poured their hearts and souls into their work, but he could never seem to do the same.

One night, after he had retired to his room and attempted to get some embroidering practice in before bed, he faintly registered a knock at the door of his family’s home. He didn’t pay it much mind. Sometimes people would stop by late at night to see if they could get a seam mended or a hole in their clothing patched.

From the other side of the house, he could hear his mother talking to someone. Everything sounded friendly enough, so he turned his attention back to the scrap of shoddily cross-stitched fabric, leaning back in his bed as he attempted to block out all of the outside world.

He would’ve succeeded as well, had the door to his room not suddenly been pushed open. Nick quickly sat up, raising his head to regard the person standing at his bedroom door.

His eyes widened nervously.

During his family’s several moves over the last few years, he’d heard many accounts of dragon slayers across the continent. They came and went wherever they pleased, slaying dragons for profit and for glory. These people were heralded as heroes, their names being passed around with the same reverence typically reserved for deities. Many villages had tales to tell of the slayers that hunted down the dragons that had attacked them for years, complete with the typical embellishment that came alongside each retelling, of course. Usually it was easy to disprove the wild claims, or at least figure out which parts of the story had been exaggerated in the telling.

And then there was the figure known only as ‘Dream’. Whispers of this mysterious slayer had spread far beyond many of the towns he had apparently rid of dragons, and the stories that came with them were very different from the standard tall tale. The slayer was said to wear shades of green, always had the hood of his cloak pulled over his head, and was never seen without his bizarre white mask emblazoned with a smiley-face.

But the strangest part of the stories was how in-line they remained with each telling. It didn’t matter who the account came from, they all seemed to match up in one way or another – where most slayers carried swords and bows, Dream carried a wooden staff, and he felled the dragons by magical means. Additional details came and went, about how he could bring down the beasts with ease, how he could track them for miles if they somehow got away, how he never let a single one live…

And now, that same terrifying slayer was standing in the doorway to Nick’s room, staring him down with that ever-smiling mask.

“Hello,” spoke the mysterious stranger, “may I come in?”

“Uh, sure,” Nick choked out, setting his work down as he hurriedly stood up, still unable to take his eyes off of the masked figure. He was in awe at the fact that the slayer he’d heard about in so many stories was standing before him.

But there was also a small sliver of worry twisting in his chest – after all, he’d once been friends with a Dragonshifter, and he didn’t imagine that fact would go over well with this individual.

“Nice place you’ve got,” the slayer commented, the end of his staff lightly thunking against the floor as he stepped forward into the bedroom. “Your mother said you and your sisters are doing clothing, mainly dresses. Your family seems very nice.”

Nick couldn’t come up with a reply, having no idea where Dream was going with this. The way he spoke seemed off, like there was some hidden intent behind his words. The way he carried himself was just as strange, appearing far too still and deliberate for it to be natural.

“…did you ever tell them?” Dream went on after a significant pause, his head tilting slightly, his body language unreadable and unnerving.

“W-What?” the teen asked, baffled.

“About your Dragonshifter friend,” the slayer answered with a slight edge in his tone. There it was. The one thing he’d been most scared to hear brought up.

“Uh,” Nick tried to stifle his shock and confusion, aiming instead for cluelessness, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Oh, don’t you?” the stranger’s tone lowered, and he leaned forward threateningly against his staff.

“Um,” panic bubbled to the surface as he struggled to find his words.

“Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten, Sapnap,” Dream huffed.

“I-I really don’t—” Nick had begun, only for his mind to blank as he processed what the slayer had just said. “Wait. How do you…?”

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22 notes - Posted February 12, 2022

#2

Chapter 24 - The Dare

[Previous] ~ [Next]

[Word Count: 2527]

[Content Warnings: SOFT/SAFE VORE, Mouthplay]

[Once more, the following chapter contains VORE – feel free to skim, skip, or block the tags ‘tw vore’ and/or ‘extreme cuddling’ if this makes you uncomfortable!]

Something was wrong. The blue dragon hadn’t paid much mind to his wings at first, whirling and flapping after his target with reckless abandon, flames breaking forth from his jaws whenever opportunity favored. The art of flight was coming much more easily to him these days, which made sky-battles like this far less one-sided, and a lot more fun. But as Dream once again whipped around to slap at one of George’s wingtips with his own, the appendage suddenly felt as though it had been struck by lightning, white-hot agony surging through his whole body for a moment.

“Dream—!” he shrieked, faltering in mid-air, before managing to even out into a glide, but that didn’t stop his wings from hurting.

“What?!” the green beast called back, circling back around to steady his flight alongside George.

“My wings,” he whined, “they hurt…”

“You should take a break, then,” Dream replied matter-of-factly, “give your wings some time to rest. Why don’t you head back to where we left Sapnap?”

The blue dragon nodded, eyes skimming over the range before managing to spot the ledge where they’d left the human. He started to bank towards it, only to realize that the other beast was veering off.

“Where are you off to?” he questioned.

“I’ll be right back, gotta check something,” was the only explanation he got, before Dream gave another powerful flap of his wings to speed away, soaring toward the direction of Aureus.

As he slowly came in to land, he saw Sapnap perk up, quickly standing to move out of George’s way. At least the human had that much common sense. Pain flashed through his body once again as he gave a couple quick wingbeats to slow his return to the ground. Soreness pulsed through them as he finally landed, tucking them back up against his sides.

“George!” Sapnap exclaimed loudly. “Where’s Dream think he’s going?”

“He said he had to check something,” the dragon replied, rolling his shoulders in what was almost a shrug. At that, he settled down into a sitting position, deciding not to transform back right away. In the distance, he could barely make out the winged form of Dream, now a dark speck that could easily be mistaken for a bird.

In the midst of his staring, he was startled to feel something land on one of his paws.

“Wha—Sapnap!” he yowled, glaring down at the human that had jumped onto his right paw, lying splayed across the back of it and giggling like a madman.

George sat up slightly, raising his left hand and moving it closer. He’d been about to pry Sapnap off of his other paw, but he couldn’t help but pause with uncertainty at the sight of his dark gray claws. His hands were so much larger in this form. If he wasn’t careful enough, if his grip was too loose or too tight, if he just happened to twitch wrong—

He’d apparently hesitated for too long, since he soon found the human pouncing on his raised paw, grabbing ahold of the topmost finger and leaving his legs dangling.

“Cut it out,” Geroge hissed, lowering the paw closer to the ground so Sapnap could properly stand, “you’ll hurt yourself.”

“Make me!” the human retorted challengingly, whirling about to wrap his arms around the beast’s thumb, pushing against the ground with his feet as he tugged at the scaled digit.

George blinked, stunned. Was Sapnap actually trying to wrestle with his hand? He’d seen the human play-fighting like this with Dream in his dragon form before, but George had never even considered doing the same. It was far too risky, and he hadn’t had nearly as much practice at being so careful as the other beast had.

“C’mon, fight me!” Sapnap bellowed insistently, twisting his whole body as he grappled George’s thumb. It was then that the dragon realized the position that the dark-haired man had put himself in, and he felt the faintest spark of boldness surge up within him.

He promptly tipped his paw over on top of Sapnap, effortlessly pinning him.

“Ay!” the human yelped indignantly, though he was still laughing under his breath as he squirmed under the scaled palm.

George snorted in amusement as Sapnap shoved fruitlessly against the paw holding him down, grunting with the effort. He wasn’t getting very far though – the hand was just too heavy to move, even if it wasn’t exerting enough force to do more than hold him down. At last, he slumped defeatedly against the ground.

“Geoooorge,” he wailed, “lemme uuuuuup!”

“Hah, no,” the blue beast chuckled, before glancing back towards the last place he’d seen Dream, scanning the distant sky in search of where he’d gone.

The next thing he knew, he felt a firm pinch against the side of his pointer finger, and he reeled his paw back with a loud shriek.

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26 notes - Posted February 19, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

Chapter 21 - Trapped Together

[Previous] ~ [Next]

[Word Count: 2620]

[Content Warnings: SOFT/SAFE VORE, Mild Fear]

[Once more, the following chapter contains VORE – feel free to skim, skip, or block the tags ‘tw vore’ and/or ‘extreme cuddling’ if this makes you uncomfortable!]

With a flickering lantern in one hand, Dream had led the other two down the dark staircase and into the connected cave. Everyone was utterly exhausted after the prolonged game that Dream had sprung on them, especially George, who had not had the hour or so to rest that the slayer had, and was already feeling phantom pains in his currently nonexistent wings and tail. At least they’d all taken the time to eat dinner before Dream got his ‘reward’.

At the base of the stone staircase, the man in green rushed several paces ahead of the other two, setting the lantern down in the center of the cave before shifting back into his dragon form. He carefully turned around on the spot, settling down and letting his legs stretch out to the side.

“Hang on,” Sapnap murmured, reaching up to untie his headband and toss it aside, also tugging off the tunic he wore with orange and yellow scales sewn into it. He was left wearing his dark trousers and long-sleeved undershirt.

“You should take off those glasses, George,” the green beast added, “and probably your amulet, too.”

The other Dragonshifter tensed a bit, but regardless obeyed, pulling his tinted glasses off of his face and removing his fire amulet, setting them alongside where Sapnap had left his own possessions.

“Alright, who first?” Dream asked, glancing between them both. George visibly shrank back, whether he meant to or not. That settled that. “Sapnap?”

The human rolled his eyes, stepping towards the dragon. It wasn’t until Dream was about to open his mouth that Sapnap suddenly jumped and landed on top of the green beast’s snout, pinning his jaws shut.

“H-Hey!” the dragon huffed, having to lift his head a bit to be able to talk – and the dark-haired man was still holding on.

“Ooohohoh, you thought!” Sapnap goaded, grinning like an idiot and kicking his dangling legs without a care in the world.

Dream let out a playful growl, angling his snout downwards and shaking his head slightly to break the human’s grip.

As soon as he’d let go to plop back onto the cave floor, the beast was swiping a paw down towards him, which Sapnap dodged without much effort. The second swing came much faster, lightly bowling the human over.

Sapnap yelped, rolling to the side to avoid the clawed hand that came down where he’d just been, and he hurriedly staggered to his feet to face the dragon.

The beast’s jaws closed over him before he’d had time to react.

As quickly as it had happened, it was still an incredibly careful and calculated move on Dream’s part, if the tongue resting between the bottom teeth and Sapnap’s legs was any indicator. In any case, he found himself pressed gently to the roof of the mouth as the world around him tilted, gravity shifting to slide him entirely into the dragon’s maw.

He struggled halfheartedly against the tongue as it proceeded to slather him in drool, answered only by a deep thrumming note that rattled his bones. The human chuckled a bit under his breath, allowing himself to relax into the soft, cradling warmth. All the while, he was carefully lapped and prodded at with nothing but necessity and care.

As the rippling movements began to slow, he knew exactly what was coming, and he promptly stretched out and went limp. There was no need for any further communication – the two of them had done this often enough that it was basically second nature.

The tongue squeezed against him as everything turned sideways, and he was swiftly swallowed up with ease and sealed away from the rest of the world.

George was at first relieved that Sapnap had gone first, wanting to savor his last few breaths of fresh, cool air before he was inevitably shoved into a cramped, sweltering, and terribly muggy space, probably for the rest of the night. Though he couldn’t fully suppress his horror at seeing the faint bulge traveling down the dragon’s throat.

Even with the knowledge that it was safe, it was still rather disturbing to watch.

“C’mon, George,” Dream called softly, his verdant eyes gleaming in the light from the lantern, “your turn.”

The other Dragonshifter stiffened as he approached the green beast, his golden-brown eyes were lowered towards the floor as he attempted to hide how scared he was. The dragon bent his head down, letting out a gentle rumble in an effort to reassure his friend.

“How do you wanna do this?” he asked. George looked up, surprised. Dream went on after a pause, “I could let you climb in on your own, or I could put you in, myself.”

“I think… I think I’ll crawl in,” the other Dragonshifter managed to choke out. The beast offered him a concerned look, but nevertheless rested his chin against the stone floor, stretching his jaws wide.

He’d had to shove down the wave of instinctual terror the moment he spotted the massive, glistening fangs, resisting every part of his being that was telling him to run as far and as fast as he could. For several seconds, he couldn’t even move, paralyzed with indecision and dread – it was a wonder he didn’t pass out.

But at last, as the dragon patiently continued to hold still, George made up his mind and approached warily.

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30 notes - Posted January 29, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

[storymaker14]

In a Name (House of Worf, Part IV)

[This was originally posted by me on another site on 3 February 2021; it has been copied here without change.]

Grr...

I mentioned almost a year and a half ago that I felt there was one more story to be told, one more scene to be written. And it's here, kinda sorta. It didn't turn out the way I thought it would. In fact, I actually like how the moment fits here better than my original intention.

But this story doesn't have an ending, even after a year and a half. It ends, sure; but I'm not sure it counts as an ending.

Did I mention it's been a year and a half?

le sigh Whatever. Here it is, the fourth and almost certainly final bit of a series that follows not from televised Star Trek, not even from the books I love so much, but the books except Collateral Damage, because I started writing these before that came out, contradicting my stuff before being contradicted itself (along with everything else!) by Star Trek: Picard.

Curtain goes up.

***

As dinner was served, Worf seethed, even as he tried to decide whether he had the right to. A glance at his son told him he was also gravely concerned at least.

Birktal set V'Lin's plate on the table before her, and she nodded in thanks as he retreated toward the kitchen. Her husband and father-in-law regarded their own far different plates in obvious satisfaction, but neither ate just yet. "Is there something that is wrong?" she asked them.

"No," Alexander quickly lied.

"No," echoed Worf, with an equal lack of truth.

"I see," she said with a raised eyebrow. "Then perhaps we should all dine while you decide how to reach the topic of your concern." She took a bite of her artfully seasoned and prepared vegetarian meal, as the two men scowled at their meat as a proxy.

Worf spoke first. "How are deliberations with the Remnant proceeding?"

His son answered. "The Federation continues to provide aid, though the amounts needed continue to decrease as their infrastructure grows. The Empire's patrols along the borders with the Breen and Tholians continue to be uneventful, and the Gorn and Tzenkethi are more than willing to support those patrols more in coming months." He turned to V'Lin. "Is that accurate?"

She nodded. "From what I understand, yes. The Remnant is still open to discussion of joining the Khitomer Accord powers, but after the experience of the Typhon Pact, they are understandably cautious about coming too interdependent with those that might turn on them. Better the more flexible, adjustable alliances they seek at the moment."

Worf made a noise of acceptance. "And is the new chancellor planning to make sweeping changes to Martok's policies, or willing to keep the status quo?"

Alexander laughed, and even V'Lin's expression acknowledged the facetiousness of Worf's comment. "Chancellor Klag is a strong-minded, wise individual, who happens to agree with most of what Martok did and believed. There is nothing wrong with a good status quo."

Worf chewed a bite thoughtfully. "And what of this new ambassador to the Remnant he chose? What are your feelings about him?"

V'Lin made no immediate comment; Alexander, on the other hand, tensed and fixed his father with a hard look. "The chancellor feels he is a good choice; otherwise he would not have selected him. And certainly his family has had long-standing relationships with the Romulans."

Worf snorted. "A fine answer, for a politician." He matched Alexander's hard stare. "Now answer again, as the son of Worf and K'Ehleyr."

"Husband--" V'Lin reached for Alexander's hand.

"No," he said calmly, though he accepted the hand in his. "That was blunt and direct and well-formulated, and my father deserves a good answer. As the son of Worf and K'Ehleyr... I wonder if I would hate him as much as I do if he didn't have his uncle's name."

Worf nodded in agreement, and spat the name as if it were the vilest curse imaginable. "Duras."

V'Lin was no stranger to either her husband's history, nor how strongly family animosity could be held. "It is certainly understandable to object to the choice," she said simply. "In truth, do you have objection to him alone, or merely to his family?"

"You think I am letting hatred cloud my judgement?" Worf asked with fire in his eyes.

"I ask a question that may or may not have great depths." She squeezed her husband's hand even as she regarded her father-in-law. "If you truly believe that he is a poor choice, even if his family is the prime reason... Then perhaps you ought to speak with the chancellor, or the High Council, or both."

Worf heaved a sigh, and looked to his son. "You married well," he said simply.

"I know," Alexander replied, and V'Lin gave a small nod of acknowledgement.

"I will speak with Torqal," he said, naming Martok's cousin who had taken the House's seat on the Council -- but not leadership of the House itself, despite the objections of absolutely no one but Worf himself when he said the House ought to be led by Worf himself. "Perhaps a discussion is in order."

***

"Worf, son of Mogh, head of the House of Martok... Speak."

Worf gave the High Council a nod of deference, primarily directed to the man who stood at the center. "Chancellor Klag," he said. "I wish to address the Council requesting information."

Klag threw back his head and laughed. "Any other man and I would consider that a challenge. But I have known you too long to believe you mince words. Ask your questions, friend!"

"Thank you," Worf rumbled. He looked to the youngish man who stood glowering openly. "I wish to understand why Duras, son of Torg, was appointed as ambassador to the Romulan Remnant."

The movement of Duras's hand toward his d'k tahg seemed almost reflexive. "If the Chancellor will not take this as a challenge, I will!"

"Duras!" Klag bellowed, even as Torg himself stirred at his son's actions. "You have not been challenged! Unless you feel that slaying an unarmed man for asking a question will add to your hard-earned good reputation."

Duras's hand dropped, and Worf could practically hear the calming breaths he took. "With respect, Chancellor," he said, "there has not been a question yet."

Klag's eyes moved from Duras to Worf, and he nodded with the ghost of a smile.

Worf stepped toward the younger man, and even as he did, he saw the man's crest and eyes, both so evocative of both his mother and his uncle. "My question is, then: why were you the proper choice to speak for the Empire to the Remnant?"

He could practically see the shift in Duras's mood: challenge or no, he was being asked to proclaim his great deeds. "I was there at the Battle of Achernar Prime, two weeks after leaving the academy on Ty'Gokor. As a bekk I defended the old Imperial Palace alongside Romulan and Federation forces; more than ninety percent of our troops were killed when the Breen ground forces attacked. For my services I was given a commission as a first lieutenant and a medal from the Romulans."

"No small feat," Worf said in unfeigned admiration. "You should be proud."

Duras looked bewildered a moment, but said, "I am." A pause. "There is more."

"Continue, then."

"Aboard the IKS 'apuStoQ, I served as second officer during the Kinshaya assault on Nimbus III." Duras glanced at Klag, who shifted slightly at the mention of the Kinshaya, but who nodded for Duras to continue. "They intended to destroy the joint Klingon-Romulan settlement there as vengeance for the loss of their homeworld." He looked at Klag, who was openly smiling, clearly enjoying memories of the Kinshayas' homeworld being lost. "With my captain and his first officer killed in the battle, I took command and helped deflect the attack. In the end... the 'apuStoQ was mine."

Worf was unsure whether the tale of Duras's rise to a captaincy -- a story very similar to more than one officer he greatly respected -- was a credit to him or an affront to Worf himself. So he deflected the issue. "You earned the respect of both powers."

"I already had the respect of both," Duras said, sharply but without offense. "My actions only made that respect grow."

"And so, when someone was needed to bridge the gap between us..."

"I was chosen." Impossible as it seemed, Duras seemed to stand even taller and straighter.

"None would doubt your deeds, or your ability." Worf narrowed his eyes. "But would one doubt your family?"

Duras's hand moved again, but did not withdraw his blade. "My father serves on the High Council," he said lowly. "No one would dare speak against him."

"But that was not always the case," Worf pointed out. "Especially after Torg's connection with a dishonored house was revealed. And what of your mother's House?"

The hand on the d'k tahg tightened. "My mother's House was disbanded shortly after I was born... with your help."

Worf's eyes flickered to Duras's blade, and a not-quite-small part of him would relish the excuse. He pictured himself grappling the younger man, bellowing his rage at his very existence. I buried my blade in your uncle's chest; I fired the shot that destroyed your mother and aunt; I would have slain your cousin on the Hur'q world had not my mate stayed my hand. How many of you must I kill to be at peace at last?

Then Worf locked eyes with this young man who carried the name of a man and a House that he passionately hated. "And do you wish you could be a member of the House of Duras? Or will the honor of your father, and his House, and your own accomplishments be enough for you?"

The hand on the blade relaxed, and moved down to rest by Duras's side. "I am proud to be my father's son, and I am proud to be what I have made myself. I do not need to cling to the past."

"Nor do I," Worf said. "Duras, son of Torg... I have no quarrel with you or with your position."

Duras's eyes narrowed. "Nor I with you... Worf, son of Mogh, leader of the House of Martok."

With a nod, Worf turned to Klag. "I am satisfied, Chancellor. I thank you for your time in hearing me." Everyone deserved the chance to strive for and create a better future... especially those blameless of the circumstances that came before. Let the past be exactly that, then: the past.

***

Postscript:

I cannot express how thrilled and furious in equal measure I am that after a year and a half... I write two sentences and have an ending I like. Whatever. Peace out, y'all.

[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''. :))))