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sentientcave · 9 months ago

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You Drive Me Wild - Nikolai x OC It's October 1990, and Nikolai is a soldier, guarding the Soviet embassy in Copenhagen. It's a dull assignment, with dull comrades, the only bright spot of his station the days away from the embassy, when he can get to know this new city and her people. It's one of these nights when a woman he's been dreaming about walks into a smoky bar, and into his arms at last.

Contains: Alcohol, smoking, age-gap relationship, plain text is "translated" Russian (Since it is Nikolai's perspective), English in italics, pining, low-key hero worship, oral sex, unprotected (oops) sex. (Let me know if I missed something!)

~7.3k - MDNI!! - Intended for mature audiences

Read on AO3

Copenhagen, October 5th, 1990

Copenhagen was… Alright.

Nikolai had gotten a cushy sort of assignment, thanks to Natalia’s connections, guarding the Soviet embassy. Mostly all he had to do was stand around and look threatening, check identification at the gate, occasionally follow the ambassador around to some function or another. It wasn’t complicated. It wasn’t exciting. It just… was. Days bled into each other like cheap watercolour paint, edges blurred and indistinct. The routine chafed at him. He had gotten too used to freedom, running wild between Leningrad and the farmhouse out in Kyrelia, skipping school and occasionally helping his uncle with work, which was more likely to end in real action than anything he did at the embassy. A high-speed car chase through fields of rye was good fun, and a knife-fight in a back alley was better.

Still, there was a certain thrill to getting out of Russia— A few runs across the border into Finland hadn’t given him much idea of what life was like outside, and he was eager to taste what the West had to offer him. He spent every moment that he could off base, practising his languages, picking up pretty brunettes (English and American ones, when he could), listening to music that hadn’t been approved by any government agency, played in basement bars, laced with anger and heavy guitar, the air heavy with smoke and the smell of sweat. He would have spent too much of his meagre salary going out to bars around the city, if he didn’t so often wind up with more cash in his pockets than when he left, betting on games of pool and poker and winning more often than not.

He had a few favourite establishments, ones with a higher turnover rate of tourists. It was harder to shark the same people twice, but cocky American tourists provided good hunting for a fresh-faced soldier who was oh so good at pretending to be a simple country boy. It was their own arrogance that lost the games before they had even begun. Nikolai had no qualms about using that American bluff and bluster to his advantage. This particular bar was near some of the embassies and plenty of hotels, and he’d already made a hundred American dollars playing pool with chain of unlucky marks (So typical of Americans to carry their own currency in another country). He sat at the bar considering his next move. He felt no particular urge to play any longer, or to return to his comrades, sitting at a table on the other side of the crowded establishment. Perhaps he would try his luck with the table of leggy blond women in the back corner of the smoky bar. One of them had been throwing smiles his way for the past half-hour. Pussy was pussy, even if he did prefer brunettes with thick, muscular thighs.

“You should play another round of pool,” Ivan, one of his fellow embassy guards said in his ear, half crashing into him from behind, knocking Nikolai into the bar and nearly spilling his beer. “There is a beautiful woman who’s about to beat a couple of Germans, you could have next game.”

Nikolai made a disgruntled sound. “I’m done for tonight,” he said, draining the rest of his beer. “You play her.” He had neglected to return to the table with Ivan and the others for a reason. He was tired of the usual posturing and boisterous behaviour already, and they had really only started in on their night. They often made fun of him for calling it early, or not trying to keep up with them, but it was always his turn to feel superior in the morning, when they could hardly open their eyes.

“Ah, come on, Kolyan. I can’t speak German or English. She will look at me like I’m a fool if I try to speak to her.” Ivan relied too heavily on Nikolai when it came to women. He made no effort to learn other languages, putting him at a disadvantage talking to local and tourist alike in Copenhagen, where Danish, English, German and even French were the best bets for communication.

“Maybe she speaks Russian.”

Ivan scoffed. “Unlikely. She looks American.”

Nikolai rolled his eyes, but turned to look, rewarded with the sight of a round ass wearing a pair of blue jeans bent over the table. A brunette, with shiny, slightly curling hair pulled into a high ponytail, wearing a leather jacket. Judging by the looks on the faces of the two blond giants across from her, she was about to clear the table. And she was just Nikolai’s type, by the shape of her.

He ordered two shots of whiskey, and when he turned to look around again, the woman had circled to the other side of the table. Nikolai’s heart stammered to a stop for a moment, bounced against the bottom of his stomach, and lurched back into motion as it landed hard in it’s usual place.

Helena.

She sank the eight ball, grinning like a wolf, her red-painted lips stark contrast against her white teeth. “Sorry, boys. That’s game,” she told them in that pretty English accent of hers. “Better luck next time.”

Nikolai slapped a few krone on the bar and picked up the shot glasses, sidling up to Helena, setting them on the water-stained wooden edges of the pool table. “Lena,” he said, puffing himself up a bit. He had no need to pitch his voice lower now, or pull himself ramrod straight to give him the extra height. He was undoubtedly a man now, with a days worth of stubble on his chin and enough experience with women that he would not turn pink or stammer when she looked at him. She would have to see that. “Have a drink with me.”

Her attention snapped away from the Germans and to him, eyes devastatingly sharp on their first pass, until recognition softened her features with a smile half a heartbeat later. “Kolya?” she asked. “What are you doing here?” She didn’t wait for an answer before she seized him around the neck, pulling him into a tight hug.

Nikolai wrapped his arms around her waist, picking her up and spinning her in a tight circle, breathing in the smell of cigarettes and sweet, spicy perfume. He was a lot taller than she was now, and she fit into his arms better than a dream, with weight and substance. The last time he had seen her, three years that felt like a lifetime ago, they had been the same height.

“I’m a soldier now,” he told her as he set her back down on her feet, his hands lingering on her hips just a moment longer than necessary. He had no desire to let her go, but he did. “Stationed at the embassy. Aunt Talia pulled strings. It’s an easy assignment.”

“They made you cut your hair.” She rubbed a hand over his head, her hand sliding down the back of his neck before she let it fall back to her side. “It’s too bad. The long hair suited you.”

Nikolai nudged her gently, picking the shots up again and handing one to her. “I’ll grow it back once I’m my own man again. For you.”

He loved the way her eyes creased when she smiled. “Good.” They knocked their glasses together and downed them at the same time. “You still smoke?” she asked, inclining her head towards the door. “I was about to step outside.”

“You can smoke in here.” A bluish haze hung in the air above their heads, swirling whenever someone opened the door to admit a fresh gust of air, and many patrons of the bar had lit cigarettes in their hands, smoke drifting upwards with every exhale.

“I know. But it’s loud. I want to catch up.”

He would never argue against taking a moment alone with her. “As you wish.” He gestured for her to walk ahead of him. He could feel Ivan’s eyes on the back of his neck, so he shot a quick, gloating glance over his shoulder at his open-mouthed comrade, and then dashed ahead to open the door for Helena.

They stepped into the cool night air, and Helena pulled a pack of smokes out of her inner jacket pocket and thumbed one up enough that she could pull it out with her mouth, and offered the pack to Nikolai while she dug her lighter out of the front pocket of her jeans.

“You’re here on business?” Nikolai held her wrist steady as he plucked a cigarette from the pack, fingers moving fast enough that he hoped she wouldn’t notice that he took one that had the slightest smudge of red lipstick on it. He might be a man, but he didn’t harbour any illusions about his chances with Helena. An indirect kiss was the best he could hope for.

Lena tucked the pack into her pocket again, nodding. “Yes. Finished up now. I’ll be leaving tomorrow.” She lit her own cigarette and held up the lighter for him, her other hand cupped around the flame to protect it from the chilly breeze that rolled down the well-lit streets.

“That’s too bad. I have a few days off. It would be nice to spend some time with you.” He braced a hand on the wall behind her as he leaned in, meeting her eyes evenly. Did he just imagine that little hitch of breath? The spark of interest in her dark brown eyes?

She looked away, flicking the lighter closed. “I could maybe stick around another day.”

“Maybe another two?” he asked playfully. He was still looming over her, not touching, but close enough to share heat. She didn’t move away.

“We’ll see.” She braced her left elbow against her hand, setting the cigarette to her lips, her eyes everywhere but on him. Perhaps her stance was protective, hesitant, but still… Something had very obviously shifted between them.

Her wedding band was missing.

After three years of pining and chasing any woman that reminded him even a little of Helena, it was a cold-water shock to the system to imagine that the real thing was suddenly attainable. Fate had smiled at him, led them to each other on a chilly autumn night in a city big enough that they could have easily sailed right past each other, not even knowing that the other was near. Nikolai was no longer a child, he was tall and strong like a man worthy of her ought to be, and she was as beautiful as he remembered, sloe-eyed and ageless, and she was not wearing a wedding ring.

Still, his chances balanced like a knife tip on a finger. It would be easy to move to fast or too slow, to ask the wrong question or provide the wrong answer. Helena might still think him too young. He could stumble and show his limited experience, let the facade of confidence slip, allow the knife to tumble, sharp and glittering, to the ground.

He resisted the urge to touch one of the escaped wisps of hair that framed her face, curling in the damp sea air. "Do you ever wear your hair down?" he asked, pivoting away from the inclination to ask about her marriage. Maybe that would be a conversation for a few drinks later.

"Not really," she said, finally looking up at him again, tucking one of those escaped curls behind her ear. "Why?"

"Just wondering. I think I only even saw it down once. It is always business with you. Practicality."

"Nothing wrong with that."

"Certainly not. It is just curiosity."

"Hm. Of course.” The look she gave him was strange, fond but slightly suspicious, like she knew that there was something unsaid underneath his casual tone, but hadn’t quite figured out what. “How is the family?” Her turn to pivot, turning the conversation away from herself and back to predictable waters. “Last time I spoke to Talia she said she was expecting another baby."

Nikolai nodded. "Yes. Due soon. Maybe inside the month. And little Aleksei just turned three. Getting bigger every day. Talking endlessly, asking a thousand questions every day. Wants to know the whys of every little thing. How is your son? Ten now, yes?"

"Yes. He's a smart boy. Very capable. He's an expert marksman already. Hits a dead eye on a moving target eight times out of ten."

"Impressive."

“He’s got no real sense for flying though. Taken him up a few times, but he doesn’t like heights. Poor kid.”

Nikolai laughed, struck, not for the first time, at the absurdity of her being a mother at all. She had patience, but little softness, more a captain training a recruit than a mother teaching her son, more concerned with toughness and survival than anything else. She was a hawk nudging her fledgling out of the nest and hoping he would fly. “He is only ten years old, Lena,” he reminded her. “You cannot expect him to be an expert in all things.”

“Well, I suppose not. He’s a pretty good driver, at least.”

Ivan tumbled out the door, followed by Iosif and Pyotr, the three of them laughing. Like Nikolai, they had gotten their stations in Copenhagen due to connections, but unlike Nikolai, they didn’t take an ounce of it seriously. Nikolai was no nationalist, but he did respect the training. He knew he could outrun, out-lift and out-shoot all three of them. And when it came to thinking, he was many miles ahead as well.

“Kolyan! We thought you left us behind,” Pyotr said. “But no, you are just out here with a beautiful woman.”

“Helena,” Lena supplied, giving them a half-wave with her nearly spent cigarette.

“Pyotr,” he replied, giving her a wide smile. He was tall as Nikolai, and blond and handsome in an annoying, self-aware way. “Ivan, and Iosif,” he added, pointing to the others in turn. “You don’t look Russian.” They were all so surprised when someone could speak more languages then they were born with, as though their own ignorant refusal to learn to communicate was the norm.

“I’m English,” she said. “A friend of Kolya’s family.”

Iosif gave Helena a look that lingered too long everywhere but her face. It made Nikolai want to punch him repeatedly. “You’re very beautiful,” Iosif said bluntly. “Can I buy you a drink?”

She smiled at him, the wolfish one that was all bared teeth and thinly-veiled threat, and dropped her cigarette to the damp ground, stepping on it to ensure it was fully out. “No. I buy my own drinks.”

“Kolyan bought you a drink,” Iosif protested.

“I don’t like you as much as I like him,” Lena said, shrugging. “There are no debts between us.”

Of course she would say so. She didn’t tally favours against friends, no concern for balanced books when the scales were tipped her way. He didn’t operate like that— Couldn’t afford to let favours accumulate interest, liked to collect sooner rather than later, keeping his own ledger clear. But it was staggering, how much he owed her. For the gifts, his flight lessons, the dust up in Leningrad where he had gotten injured, cornered and nearly killed, and she had taken down two men with her boot knife and bare hands. “Not quite,” Nikolai said softly. “My life is yours.” Perhaps it was nothing to her, just another day in a life filled with violence, but he would certainly not forget the sight of her covered in someone else’s blood, rushing to his side the moment both bodies hit the floor.

She shook her head, looking up at him. Her dark eyes looked starry, the way they cast back the orange light of streetlamps and the pink and blue neon sign from across the street, but it was hard to fathom what she was thinking, behind all that reflected colour. “No, Kolya. You owe me nothing.”

Nikolai tossed down his own cigarette and tapped his first knuckle against the bottom of her chin, leaning in a little closer. “It is really not a matter of owing, Helena,” he purred. “It is a matter of knowing where I stand.”

Her lips parted slightly, a hint of colour creeping into her pale cheeks.

“If there is a story there, we’d like to hear it,” Pyotr said smoothly, interrupting the moment with all the grace of a bucking bull smashing through a window. “Come, let Kolyan buy you another drink, tell us why he owes you his life.”

“It is better if I tell it,” Nikolai said. “She will discount her actions, because she is as modest as she is beautiful. But it is up to her if we join you. Tonight she is my general.” He dropped his arm to her shoulders, pulling her in close. She made no move to push him away, and her body fit right in against him like she belonged there. Like she belonged with him.

“They’re your friends, Kolya. Up to you.”

In all truth, he didn’t want to share any of her attention with them, although he did feel a certain pull to show her off some, even though she was not really his. “One drink,” he said. “We won’t stay long.”

They crowded back into the bar, and Helena touched Nikolai's chest lightly. "I'll be right back," she said, taking off for the back corner of the bar, weaving through clumps of other patrons. It was getting busier, and a band was tuning up their instruments on the opposite side of the establishment, the noise already sending ripples through the haze of smoke. Pyotr followed him to the bar while Ivan and Iosif laid claim to one of the few remaining tables.

"You always have good luck with women," Pyotr complained while they waited for the bartender to take notice of them. "You should leave some beautiful girls for the rest of us, no?"

"If you learned another tongue you could speak to some of them yourself," Nikolai said. "You and Ivan should try. Iosif has been learning English. He's fucking terrible at it, but it's worth the effort. He gets dates."

"Your Helena speaks Russian. And German?"

"And French. Maybe more than that. She does business in many countries."

“Business? She does not look like a business woman.”

Nikolai shrugged, burying his irritation under nonchalance. “Perhaps you have a narrow mind.”

Once they had their drinks in hand, they found the other two soldiers, and crammed into the booth with them. With four bulky men in the space, it was hard to imagine squeezing Helena into a proper seat. Nikolai wanted to kiss Ivan and Iosif on the mouth for creating a scenario where he might be able to coax Helena to sit on his lap. They were not good for much, but at least they were good for something.

Helena reappeared at his shoulder, and Nikolai twisted to look up at her, surprised to find that she had taken her hair down from its ponytail. She looked a little wilder that way, a little younger, dark hair loose around her shoulders, curling at the ends.

"Why don't you sit with me?" Pyotr asked, patting his knee invitingly. "Pretty thing like you ought to have a man take care of you, yes?"

Helena gave him an unamused look and hooked her arm around Nikolai's shoulders, dropping onto his thigh without any further ceremony. Nikolai wrapped his arm around her waist happily, his big hand sitting on the junction between her hip and thigh. He resisted the urge to dig his fingers in and feel her properly. "Don't get any ideas, Kolya," she told him, an attempt to be stern, although he wasn't sure either of them really believed that she meant it. "I'm far too old."

"Not so," Nikolai said, hoping honesty would help his case. "I've been with older women than you." He preferred women to girls his own age.

Surprise flickered across her face. She was rarely surprised, but the expression suited her, her soft red lips parting slightly, her beautiful eyes, usually half closed, opened wide. Ivan and Iosif were laughing, Iosif jostling Pyotr with his elbow for getting rejected so definitively.

Nikolai pressed his advantage, leaning in close, his words only for her. "Perhaps you will tell me later why you have no ring on your finger."

She turned her head slightly. They were so close that their noses almost brushed. "Kolya..."

"Lena," he returned, nudging the tip of his nose against hers, satisfaction pooling in his belly at the was she inhaled, like she thought he was going to try to kiss her. And then he turned away, picking up his beer and nudging hers toward the corner of the table slightly.

Yes, things had certainly shifted between them.

There was something gratifying about having her there, and not just because her warm body was pressed close to his, but to have someone to exchange a look with when Pyotr said something out of touch, or when Ivan made a terrible joke. They tended to think alike, him and his sparrowhawk, and every time they looked at each other it was confirmation of the chemistry that Nikolai had long been painfully aware of, and Lena was just beginning to realize.

When she finished her beer, she stood up, heading outside for another cigarette. She didn’t like to smoke indoors— Nikolai suspected it was more a reason to take a step outside to gather her thoughts than it was for any type of propriety. Pyotr had offered her two as they sat around the table, and she had politely declined each time.

“I won’t be back,” he told the others, grinning wolfishly at the sour look on Pyotr’s face. “Try not to get into too much trouble without me. You will not be able to talk your way out of it.”

He found Lena around the corner, tucked into an alley to get out of the wind. The weather had a habit of shifting without warning, and there was a smell of ozone in the air, promising rain, although the sky above them was still dark and clear.

She looked at him, but didn’t speak, simply held out her pack of cigarettes to offer him one. He lit it with his own lighter this time, nodding his thanks rather than breaking the silence. If she had something on her mind, it would be better to wait her out. So he smoked, standing a step away, watching her. He could never get tired of looking at her anyway.

Finally, she spoke, an accusation, but delivered lightly. “You’ve been flirting.”

He nodded. The allegations were more than true. He was only glad that she could not charge him for the thoughts he’d indulged in, not simply that evening, but for a very long time. “I have.”

“Why?”

“Because I want you.”

She dropped her spent cigarette to the ground, frowning. "Kolya, you're too young. You should be with someone your own age."

Nikolai dropped his own cigarette and threw caution away as well, stepping forward, crowding her up against the rough brick, and cupped her face, allowing all the admiration and want that he'd tried to bury for years to rise to the surface. "I am nearly twenty. I am a soldier. Old enough to die for my country, but not old enough to want to make love to a beautiful woman I respect and adore?"

She gripped his wrists, but didn't pull his hands away. "I--"

"No. Even before you were not happy. You deserve more, from a man who will do anything for you. Let me be that man, Lena. At least for a day or two, hm?" He pressed his lips to hers and drew back, searching her eyes for a reaction. Her grip on his wrists loosened and fell away, her palms settling against his chest instead. Not pushing him away, but not pulling him closer either.

They looked at each other for a long moment, indecision writ in bold script across her face. Good sense would have her send him away, but it was not a night where good sense reigned supreme. They were alone, in a world that had shrank to fit just the two of them, everything else forgotten and distant.

Her eyes dropped from his and settled on his mouth. "Oh fuck it," she said, and they crashed together desperately, her hands gripping his shirt.

Heat blazed in his chest, like a sputtering engine roaring to life. She opened up to him without him having to do any prodding, he could taste smoke and the clean burn of alcohol on her tongue as it moved against his. This was passion, not the clumsy, anxious pawing between two inexperienced people, like he was more used to, but the inevitable reaction of two people who knew exactly what they wanted. He threaded his fingers through her silky hair, angling her head slightly so he could deepen the kiss the slightest bit more, licking eagerly into her mouth. She made a soft sound, arms twining around his neck so she could press her body closer to his. He let his own hands settle on her waist. As much as he wanted to touch every inch of her, he didn't want to come across as too excitable or get carried away by his desire. He needed to make Helena melt first. His own pleasure was a guarantee. Even if she stopped him there, he had held and touched and kissed her now, and he had come many times to paltry imaginings of less.

Lena broke them apart, breathing hard, her dark eyes bright and slightly unfocused, like she had never been kissed like that. Like his kiss had left her more unsteady than the drinks, her red lipstick smeared across her mouth. “I’m staying close by,” she told him, running her thumb across the corner of his mouth, coming away with more red pigment. “Do you want—”

He cut her off with another kiss. He didn’t give a fuck if there was lipstick staining his own mouth. It was just evidence that she really had kissed him. “If you’re asking if I want to get out of here, the answer is yes.”

“Should you tell your friends?”

“No. I make it a habit to leave without saying goodbye. Especially if a beautiful woman has been sitting in my lap all evening.” He grinned, catching her hand as he stepped back. “Where are you staying?”

They walked to her hotel slowly, Nikolai stopping to kiss her at every opportunity, a little worried that she might, at any moment, come to her senses and send him on his way. He had wanted her so badly for so long, he did not wish to stop until they had tangled up together in bed, and perhaps not even then. Perhaps he could convince her to spend more time with him. Perhaps when he had served his time in the army he would be able to follow her wherever she went.

It would likely take some convincing, but he was up to the task. In that moment, he was up to any task.

She unlocked the door to her hotel room, her expression turning pensive. "I'm not divorced yet, we’re just separated for now. Maybe this is--"

"Lena, I am not asking you for the rest of your life." He didn't add that he would take it, if she offered it to him-- That he would take anything she offered him, no matter how big or small. "I only want to show you what you mean to me."

She pushed the door open to let him in. "I don't-- I don't even know if we will get divorced."

"I don't care." He did. He cared a lot, but if he said that aloud she would halt things, tell him it was for his own good.

"Of course not. It's just a crush you want to work out of your system, right?" She smiled wryly, shedding her leather jacket and tossing it over a chair.

"Sure." He tossed his own jacket down on top of hers and hauled her back into his arms. "Do you want to talk about this man that never deserved you? Or do you want to forget him?" He rubbed his thumb over the jagged scar on her arm, where it cut her RAF tattoo in half, his touch following it up to where it disappeared under her rolled up t-shirt sleeve and back down again.

She drew in a shaky breath, as unsure as Nikolai had ever seen her. "He cheated on me. Said it was because I was gone so much. Guess I can’t blame him for that. Just never was able to stay home. Too much to do. Not built for domesticity.”

“You cannot help being what you are,” Nikolai said.

Lena laughed lightly and wound her arms around his waist, her hands slipping under his shirt and curling against his back. “Are you going to tell me what I am, Kolya?” she asked, tilting her head back to look at him.

“A sparrowhawk. A fierce little hunting bird. A warrior, perhaps, a traveller, certainly. Never the kind of woman that belongs tucked away in a kitchen somewhere. Your husband is a fool if he cannot appreciate you as you were made to be.”

“He wants to work it out,” she warned him. “We've got so much tangled up together it might be the only thing that makes sense."

“Perhaps. Perhaps if you must, you should allow him to chase his lesser women, so that you can spend your time with a better man.” He grinned at her and moved in for another kiss. He had said everything that needed saying, laid out what cards he thought would aid him, and kept the rest tucked away for later. She all but melted in his arms, lips parting reflexively for him.

This time, he made no effort to restrain himself, letting his hands roam, moaning into her mouth when he finally got a handful of her backside, fingers gripping a little too tight from enthusiasm. What curves she had were incidental, from her broad-hipped build rather than much softness— Even motherhood had granted very little softness to Lena, she was packed muscle and callouses and fire, totally unlike any of the pale imitations he had found himself chasing over the past few years. Lena would always be a soldier first, it would take some effort to remind her that she was a woman too.

Nikolai stepped forward, making Lena move backwards until her knees hit the bed, and broke the kiss so he could kiss down her neck, sucking a little too hard just below her ear, making her hiss. She gripped the collar of his shirt firmly, hauling him back a bit. “Easy,” she said, laughing. “Leave the hickies for the college girls, Kolya.”

He flushed pink, although the embarrassment from his mistake did nothing to dampen the mood, blessedly. “Sorry,” he said, knocking his forehead against hers. “You’re very hot.”

Lena grinned in response and tugged his shirt off over his head, tossing it to the side. She ran her hands over his chest, eyes following hungrily. “So are you.”

Nikolai had been hard since they started kissing outside the bar, but her words, somehow all the more genuine delivered in her own tongue, coupled with the look she gave him made him twitch, blood fully abandoning his head to travel south. He pulled her shirt off too, and kissed down her chest, cheering internally that he managed to unhook her bra on the first attempt, rather than struggling with the clasp like a schoolboy.

Her nails grazed over his head encouragingly when he reached her small breasts, lapping his tongue across one nipple and palming the other. She made a breathy sound, and then a groan when he tested his teeth against the sensitive nub. He groaned too, some primal part of him getting off on the fact that he was making her feel good, that she was letting him touch her, that she was enjoying the feeling of his hands and lips and tongue and teeth on her skin. He felt twenty feet tall.

Lena reached for his belt, undoing the buckle before his syrupy-slow thoughts could catch up. He broke away from her breast and caught her wrists before she could do more than undo the top button of his jeans. He was fairly sure he would spill all over her fingers if she put her hands on him. “Impatient,” he chided her, pushing her onto the bed. He sank to his knees, positioning his body between her thighs. “Ladies first.”

Her laugh was always music to his ears, but it was honey sweet now, pooling somewhere in his chest as he cut her off with another kiss. He couldn’t risk her seeing the feeling in his eyes— He knew it was too close to love, that she would realize that this meant more to him than it did to her, and she would send him away to protect him.

He ducked his head and sank back on his haunches, pulling one of her boots into his lap so he could undo the laces and pull it free. She leaned back on her elbows to watch him, her head tipped to the side thoughtfully. Her gaze burned, but he didn’t look up until he had set both boots to the side, sliding his hands up her firm thighs to the waistband of her jeans. “These need to come off now.”

“Now who’s impatient?” she asked teasingly, but she pitched her hips up so he could peel the denim off of her legs anyway, the heat in her eyes undeniable.

Nikolai ran his hands up her legs reverently, dropping a kiss on the inside of her knee, torn as ever between restraint and enthusiasm. He pushed her legs open a little wider, attention fixed on her cotton-clad cunt.

Lena gave him a sly, fox-like smile. "You want to taste me?" She asked, hooking her thumbs through the waistband of her panties.

"More than anything," he breathed.

"Then get to it, soldier," she said, pushing them down.

"Yes ma'am." Nikolai pulled them the rest of the way off, and tried to be subtle about shoving the (wet!) cotton in his pocket. She probably saw, but she was gracious enough to not mention it. He wasted no more time, pulling her to the edge of the bed as he peppered the inside of her thighs with kisses, eyes focused on her pretty pussy, framed by slick darkened curls. His cock throbbed as he dipped his head down, licking a broad path along her slit, groaning at the heady taste of her. He threw one of her lean legs over his shoulder and fixed his mouth to her clit, lapping his tongue across it, gripping tightly to her hips when they bucked up against him. A moan fell from Helena's mouth, prompting him to repeat the movement.

He found a rhythm quickly, spurred on by her gasped instructions, or her hand nudging his head into just the right position. He had found that the benefit sleeping with older women was that they weren’t shy about asking for what they wanted, but Helena took it a step further and simply took, grinding against his tongue, using the leg over his shoulder to pull him closer, the other planted on his thigh so she could push him just slightly away, reminding him to breathe. As if that was important, when the sharp taste of her was heavy on his tongue and her moans were thick in the air.

“Two fingers,” Lena gasped, nudging him back slightly to make sure he was listening. “Inside, please.”

Nikolai obeyed, leaning back to watch her face, replacing his tongue with his thumb. Her soaked cunt pulsed around his fingers, her hips canting toward his touch desperately. He curled his fingers just so, and she keened, fisting the sheets as if she were worried that she would levitate off the bed and away from his hands. “Will you come for me?” he purred. “You look so beautiful. Taste so sweet.”

His words made her gush, her walls clenching tight around him. “Fuck— Kolya!” Her whole body shuddered, pulling taut, tension snapping when he suctioned his mouth to her swollen clit once more, moaning against her as she came, as if her pleasure was his own. It nearly was. He was so hard, and his jeans so tight that he could imagine coming just from the pressure and the sweet sounds she made, although he tried not to think about that.

She unhooked her leg from his shoulder and pushed herself into a seated position, cupping his jaw to pull him closer. “You’re pretty good at that,” she panted, pressing a kiss to his mouth, unphased by the slick that coated the lower half of his face.

Nikolai got to his feet, letting his teeth graze against her bottom lip before he straightened up fully, separating reluctantly so he could kick off his boots and finally rid himself of the rest of his clothes. “I’m good at lots of things,” he promised.

Helena moved toward the head of the mattress, watching him, face flushed pink high on her cheekbones and hair a mess already. Her dark eyes dipped down his chest, thighs pressing together when he finally freed his cock. He wanted to imprint the image of her looking at him like that on the back of his eyelids, so he could see it every time he blinked for the rest of his life. Her dark eyes were hot and hungry, for him. That morning, this was a distant, far off fantasy that lingered in the back of his mind, and now she was here, laying naked before him, every inch of her lean, muscular, scarred up body on display, and she wanted him.

“Are you going to stand there all night, or are you going to come over here and show me what else you’re good at?” she asked.

“I am just appreciating the view,” he laughed, climbing onto the bed beside her. “It’s one I’d very much like to remember.”

“Flatterer,” she accused, curling into his arms for another kiss.

He hummed against her mouth, agreeing, pulling her on top of him, legs on either side of his waist. He was glad she was as eager to lock lips as he was— He could never get tired of the spit-slicked slide of her mouth against his, the swipe of her tongue against his own, like she was as desperate to devour him as he was her. He reached around her hips to take himself in hand, precum easing the glide of his first few rough, desperate strokes.

“Koyla,” she whined against his mouth, angling her hips back.

“You want me?” he asked, tapping the head of his cock against her core, grinning when she inched backward, chasing it when he pulled back again.

“Yes,” she panted. “Please.”

Who was he to deny her? He rubbed himself against her dripping folds again, and she pitched herself backward, taking him to the hilt in one smooth movement. He groaned, fighting off the urge to come just like that, at the first molten clench of her cunt around him, fingers digging into her hips to hold her still while he adjusted.

Lena fought his grip, grinding her clit down against him, desperate for friction and movement. Nikolai lost the battle shamefully quick, an orgasm pulsing through him before he could do more than pant out her name, holding her down against him as he came inside her, eyes screwed tight.

He pulled in a shuddering breath, wincing. “Shit. Sorry.”

Lena just laughed, not an ounce of judgment or disappointment in the sound. “You need a minute?” she asked, pushing back up onto her knees, their hips still pressed flush together. Her cunt pulsed around him, and, blessedly, his cock responded with enthusiasm, staying hard. She rocked back and forth, hands braced against his chest as she fucked herself slowly on him, drawing each movement out excruciatingly slow, a teasing smile on her lips. She squeezed around him again, and he could help but groan, rutting up into her reflexively.

“No. No, I will keep going. Sorry.” He pulled her down against his chest and rolled them so that he was on top. Coming too early once was bad enough, he couldn’t risk it happening a second time. He folded her legs up and thrust into her slow, making sure that she felt every inch of him drag across that spongy, sensitive spot that he had found with his fingers earlier.

Lena hooked her legs around his waist, pressing her palms against the headboard to give herself some leverage to meet his movements, encouraging him to pick up his pace. He followed her cue, pistoning into her soaked pussy harder and faster, his balls slapping against her ass, coupling with the wet sound of his cock moving in and out of her and the little whimpers that left her lips with every thrust. He dropped down to his forearms, feeling tension building inside him again, trying to keep his reaction in check, and the change in angle made her cry out. She let go of the headboard and clung to his shoulders instead, burying her face against his neck.

“Kolya,” she gasped into his ear. “I’m close.”

He knew that the best thing he could do was keep to the same rhythm, so he continued the relentless pace, shifting his wieght to one arm so he could reach between them, rubbing a tight circle around her clit. He legs squeezed tight around him, her cunt fluttering around his cock. She bit down on his shoulder, groaning against his skin, nails digging into his back. His own release came quickly, the tension snapping as he spilled inside her for the second time. He rutted against her until her cunt relented, loosening around him.

“Fuck,” he said, pressing his forehead to hers, breathing hard. “You’re so beautiful. Next time I need to see your face, yes?”

That teasing, fox-like grin returned. “Next time?”

“Give me, five, ten minutes,” he panted. “I’m good for it.”

She laughed, pushing him over onto the bed and curling into him, her head on his shoulder, her legs tangled up with his. She made a soft, contented noise, running her fingers through the sweaty curls of hair on his chest, her expression turning dazed and thoughtful as she relaxed in his arms. He smoothed her hair back from her face, kissing the top of her head affectionately.

"You flown a helo yet?” she asked. “I could take you up tomorrow, if you want. There’s one on the ship." The change of subject was abrupt, but he knew her well enough to recognize her tactics when she got too close to an emotion.

"I would like that.”

“Good. Me too.”

Nikolai sighed, tilting Lena’s chin up for another proper kiss. He would spend every moment he could by her side, for as long as she would let him, in the air or on solid ground. “Will you be in town again soon?” he asked hopefully.

“I haven’t even left yet,” she said, laughing.

“I wish you wouldn’t.”

She bit her lip, cheeks turning pinker, her eyes filled with something shining and hopeful and sweet, something that settled under his ribs, curling up in his chest and purring like a contented cat. “I wish I didn’t have to.”

“Next time, stay longer.”

“I will,” she promised. “And yes, soon.”

He didn’t expect more than that. Couldn’t, knowing her. But it was enough.

Maybe Copenhagen wasn’t so bad after all.

#call of duty modern warfare #cod fanfic #x OC #Nikolai x OC #Nikolai mw #here be smut #MDNI #Sparrowverse #I can't look at this anymore or I will go insane #Please let me know if you need more content warnings at the beginning #This is the first actual sex scene I've posted and I hope it's appropriately sexy

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shinynewboots · 5 months ago

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Staring at the Sun / Adam x Lute Chapter 8

Summary: After the battle, Lute attempts to flee with Adam. They find themselves unable to return to Heaven and must adjust to life in Hell.

AN: Hi all! Very excited about this chapter, I really enjoyed writing it (I essentially had big word vomit today lol it's crazy how motivated I am to write when I am well-rested). I hope you guys enjoy it as well!

Warnings: 18+, Violence, gore, smut eventually, Adam-typical misogyny, alcohol use, slight sexual themes

Chapter 7

Chapter 9

Lute was almost certain that at this point in their tentative relationship with the Hell princess, Charlie would have been more than willing to help her and Adam to get to the Embassy. However, Lute also knew that this truce of sorts was contingent on the fact that she and Adam were here in Hell and unable to spearhead the Exterminations. Sure, Charlie was sunshine and rainbows and full of hope in all beings. The other residents of the hotel were not as trusting.

The Extermination Day countdown atop the Embassy that loomed over the city had ceased ticking after the failed extermination. The numbers had been replaced with question marks. Though Lute had no baseline for any sort of peace in Hell (as all of her prior visits were filled with chaos and carnage), the other residents had alluded to the fact that Hell was in a state of calm since it appeared that extermination no longer existed.

And there were political issues that Lute listened to when they were spoken about near her but did not give much thought to. Why should she? Her and Adam would be leaving this place of the damned soon enough.

“Valentino’s been more on-edge than usual,” Angel sulked, nursing a cocktail. “Apparently none of the new sinners want to make a fucking deal with him and now he’s making it my problem.”

“Word on the street is that a lot of Overlords are getting antsy,” Husk offered, “Especially since the last extermination day. Lots of angelic weapons just out there in the open.”

“And why would that put an Overlord on edge? You’d think they jumping with fucking joy now that the big scary exorcists are nowhere to be found,” Adam scoffed, his curiosity begging him to join the conversation.

Husk gave Adam a curious look as he cleaned the bar and looked between Angel and Adam. “No extermination day means less incentive to make a soul deal with an overlord. Who needs protection now if the biggest threat to eternal damnation has been chased off?”

Lute had packed a small backpack with supplies she thought they might need on their journey to the Embassy. While she did not anticipate a confrontation, this was Hell and constant vigilance was required.

Her Egg Army had been useful in procuring weapons for her to pack. Fred had borrowed a knife made of angelic steel that had been left over from the extermination. The knife looks oddly familiar to the one that had been used to stab Adam but best not to look too much into it. Blue and Orange had found a pistol with angelic steel bullets. While Lute was unpracticed in the art of shooting, she knew she could make it work in a pinch.

And Yellow. Simple Yellow had grabbed snacks from the kitchens that the pair could take on their journey.

“Dude, good thinking,” Adam said, happily taking the snacks from the simple egg and packing them in their travel bag. Lute rolled her eyes as she loaded the pistol, the angelic steel bullets feeling oddly familiar in her hand. The Eggs had gathered in their room, looking expectantly up at her. Even Keekee must have sensed something was off, as she stood in the same lineup with the eggs.

“When are we leaving, Lieutenant?” Fred asked, a simple smile on his eggy features.

“WE,” Lute said, pointing to herself and Adam, “Are leaving soon. You four are staying here.”

The eggs frowned and their eyebrows furrowed. “But when will you be coming back, Lieutenant?”

Lute sighed and looked over at Adam, who shrugged and reached down to give Keekee a scratch behind the ears. The cat purred in delight and rubbed her body against Adam’s leg.“Soon. But if anyone asks, we’re still here, right?”

The eggs nodded enthusiastically, pleasing Lute. “Alright, now scram.”

The eggs took their duty as minions very seriously and did just as their mistress asked, running out of the room in a haphazard waddle. Keekee followed similarly, chasing after the eggs.

“More like ‘scram’ble,'' Adam said as he stood up from his hunched position, laughing as he picked up the knife. He played with it in his hands, passing it back and forth between his fingers. He looked at himself in the reflection of the blade, his golden eyes reflecting like miniature suns.

“Very funny,” Lute deadpanned. She pushed her hair behind her ears to keep it out of her face. It had grown quickly during her time in Hell and was closer to her shoulders than she could ever remember it being. Strands of hair caught in the metal pieces of her new arm, so she tugged until they broke free.

She had been adjusting to her arm surprisingly well. She was very impressed by the details Asmodeous had added. She was able to feel sensation almost as well, if not better, in her metallic arm as compared to the original. It was also stronger and so Lute felt confident she would be able to hold her own if it ever came down to it.

“Are you ready to go?’ She asked, throwing the back over her shoulders and wings. The wings had been a concern at first, as they worried they would be recognized by Sinners on their journey. However, after further thought they realized that no other sinners knew their true origins and there was such a variety in the makeup of sinners that they wouldn’t look too terribly out of place unless they began to bleed.

“Yeah, I’m ready to get the fuck out of this place,” Adam said, walking towards her and putting the knife in his back pocket. “I do want to tell you something though, just in case.”

Lute frowned and turned to face him. “Just in case of what? Adam everything’s going to be fine and we’ll be back in Heaven before nightfall.”

“Just in case,” He said, grabbing her face in his large hands, similar to the way he had done after the fight with Vaggie. Golden met Golden, and Lute felt her heart sink into her stomach. “Something happens—”

“Adam nothing’s going to happen,” Lute argued, trying to shake her head though she failed spectacularly due to the gentle pressure Adam was placing on the sides of her head.

“Lute, let me speak,” He said, his voice soft with a serious tone. Lute closed her mouth quickly. “I don’t know what’s going to happen when we get to the Embassy or if Heaven will even answer. Shit, I don’t know everything. But what I do know is if I had to be stuck in Hell with anyone, I’m glad it was with you. I lo-appreciate you, Lute. You’re my best friend.”

Lute’s mouth formed an O shape and suddenly the ability to speak no longer existed. Her mouth had run dry. Adam searched her eyes for a second before dropping his hands and pulling away from her, his body turned away from her.

“Sorry, that got really mushy and gross. Just forget about it.” He said, his wings wrapping around his body.

Lute felt as though she were an ice sculpture melting, and the ability to move, to think, to act was rapidly returning to her. She reached out for his shoulder with her new arm, intending to only give a small tug. However, she was still learning her strength with the appendage and so the gentleness became an almost forceful pull and Adam was brought face to face with her. His eyes were downcast and unable to meet her own.

“Uh, no, no Adam, I won’t forget about it. I’m sorry, I’m not good at this,” She said, her hands motioning all around the room. “But I wouldn’t fight through the pits of Hell for anyone else. You mean so much to me, Adam.”

She watched Adam’s mouth curl up on the side, a small smile he seemed afraid to give into. His eyes have softened, and he is looking at her strangely. Suddenly, she finds herself engulfed in his strong arms and her body flush against his own.

He is radiating the familiar heat that Lute has become accustomed to at night, in the dark where no one can see, and voiced thoughts become forgotten by morning. Her head is resting on his chest and she can hear the steady beat of his heart. His arms have wrapped around her body and hold onto her like a drowning man to a lifejacket.

His chin rested on her head and his eyes were closed, taking in the moment for a while longer. But then the moment was gone and Adam pulled away. He looked down at his loyal lieutenant, his best friend, his Lute and smiled softly. “Alright, let’s stop being pussies and get the fuck out of here.”

Lute nodded and hoped that the blush on her cheeks was not as visible as she feared it was. She hoped this line that they have crossed can be maintained even when they leave Hell. A piece of her felt like an addict; she now knew what this little slice of perfection tasted like, how could she ever be expected to give him up?

Another part of her knew that this closeness they had developed would not last in Heaven. He would go back to being her commander and the mythic First Man and she would go back to being his loyal lieutenant, always so close and yet so far.

Lute shook herself out of her musings and was brought back to the scene at hand. They had slipped out of the hotel through the garden. There was a spot in the fence that Lute had discovered on one of her morning runs. It was just big enough for the two of them to slip through and leave the safety of the hotel.

The Embassy shone in the distance and Lute was grossly aware of just how far the trek would be on foot as opposed to flying.

“Alright Lute, we just gotta lay low,” Adam said, his voice low as they walked the streets of Hell. Various sinners walked the streets, most minding their own business. The streets smelled of piss, blood, and sweat. That didn’t stop the citizens though, as this was the most crowded Lute had ever seen the Pride ring (of course, it not being an extermination day had everything to do with it).

Apart from the literal dumpster fires, cannibals in the streets, and gunshots, the entire street wasn’t so different from Heaven. Though she had never been to earth, maybe this coupled with her time in heaven was the closest she would ever come to experiencing life as a human.

“Dude, that's fucking gnarly,” Adam whispered as he stopped to look at the various advertisements and shop windows. Lute looked over to see a picture of their newest acquaintance, Fizzarolli, holding something called the Dragon Driller 5000.

A bunny sinner that the pair had been walking by looked over at Adam and shrugged. “Don’t knock it until you’ve tried, sugar. I’ve got three at home.”

Adam opened his mouth to give a very Adam-esque reply. Sensing the degeneracy, Lute stomped on his foot and replied. “We’ll keep that in mind.”

The bunny looked Lute up and down before sending her a wink. “Looks like you’ve got your little boyfriend trained already.”

Lute gave the bunny a strained smile. “I try.”

Lute could feel the utter need to speak radiate off of Adam.”It was nice talking to you, but we’ve got to get going.”

“Alright sugar, rain check on getting that dragon driller though! You and your boy toy would have a great time.”

Lute nodded and pulled Adam away from the scene, her cheeks burning at the implication. “Come on. You’re not really practicing what you preach, huh? What part of laying low did you not understand?” She whispered sharply.

“I’m sorry, bitch, I can’t help it. There’s just so many possibilities here. Couldn’t help but stare,” Adam whispered back, shrugging his shoulders, and looking around at the other shop windows.

“Come on, let’s keep moving,” She said, walking briskly ahead of him. They were only a few blocks from the Embassy and while they had not had any negative interactions yet, all it took was breathing wrong in some sinner’s direction for all of Heaven to break loose.

Lute walked past an alley and was met with a rush of cold that was an unexpected contrast to the otherwise hot streets. She looked back at Adam to make sure he was close behind. And he was, though walking a bit more leisurely than she would have cared. She shook her head in annoyance and continued.

She passed another alleyway and felt a cold figure wrap around her, covering her mouth and pulling her into the alley. Her eyes were wide in shock as the figure continued to wrap its shadowy tendrils around her body. Lute recognized that bone-chilling coldness as the same one she had encountered at the hotel

The fucking Radio Demon.

Lute should have known that he would have his loyal shadow follow them. They should’ve been smarter. But he had kept his guard dog in check for the last few weeks and Lute very rarely saw anything hiding in the shadows around the hotel anymore.

Fuck.

Fuck the Radio Demon.

Fuck Adam for deciding to window shop now of all times.

Fuck the Bunny Sinner and her promotion of her disturbing sex toys.

Fuck.

Lute felt like she was screaming. Even if she was, she wasn’t able to make a sound due to the shadow’s penetration of her mouth, her nose, and her ears. Darkness began to ensnare all of her senses until there was nothing.

The shadow chuckled. Master would be proud. He was tasked with keeping an eye on the golden-eyed-ones. Master knew they were up to no good and so the shadow bid as Master asked and followed them through the streets of Pentagram City.

The shadow kept to darkness, skulking the alleyways and keeping watching on the golden-eyed-ones. Master had said if they were getting closer to the golden building, to take action. And so the shadow did as he was asked.

The silver one had gotten ahead. The shadow had already had a taste of her a few times at the place Master now lived. Her fear called to him and shadow took great pleasure in engulfing her fear and soul, sucking the light from her body.

And so, the shadow chose to strike. The silver one fought back, as was expected, but she was no use for the shadow’s darkness. The shadow engulfed her in the alley intending to take her back Master. Her spirit was delicious. It was a wonderful mixture of dark and light matter that the shadow couldn't get enough of.

The shadow began to move, to take the silver one to Master as a prize.

A rock moved. The shadow looked up.

The shadow turned to see the big one standing at the start of the alleyway, a knife brandished in his hand that gleamed in the light of the city.

“Get the fuck away from her,” The big one screamed, lunging for the shadow and the silver one. The shadow screamed, the sound high-pitched like a banshee. Two birds, one stone. Master would be pleased.

The shadow began to spread its tentacles so that it would catch the big one in its grasp and immobilize it. The big one fought against the shadow, screaming out and thrashing, until he fell still.

Perfect, the shadow thought. The perfect gifts for Master.

“Tell your master I said he can suck my fucking dick,” The big one said and he began to thrash once more and sliced through the shadow with his angelic steel knife and escaped his grip. The shadow screamed, the most anguishing screaming as a piece of its shadow tendril fell to the ground and dissipated, unable to regenerate to the shadow.

The big one sliced again, another tendril of the shadow’s falling to the ground and disintegrating with the shadow powerless to stop it. The shadow screamed once more, pulling all the warmth from the area, and quickly began to release the silver one, who fell to the ground.

The shadow took in the scene and made a choice: Flee and feel Master’s wrath.

“Lute!” Adam yelled, dropping the knife as the shadow disappeared into the dark alley. He ran to her and fell to his knees, pulling her up and cradling her to his chest.

“Lute,” He said again, pushing away the strands from her sweat-covered face. Her breathing was shallow and her skin was ice cold. “Lute, come on, wake up.”

Lute began to cough and sputter, the color coming back into her face. She took in deep breaths and looked around the scene in fear.

“What, what happened,” She coughed out, her eyes meeting Adam’s.

“The fucking Radio Demon sent his fucking lap dog” Adam growled out. “He’s gone for now, but I don’t know how long we have until that bastard comes after us.”

Lute nodded, taking a deep swallow. She began to try and stand but couldn’t catch her footing before she fell back into Adam’s embrace. Adam’s features were dark, rage radiating off of his body. He looked down at her and knew he had to act quickly.

“I’m going to fly us to the Embassy.”

Lute’s eyes widened in disbelief. “Adam, no. On the ground we might blend in, but the sky? Everyone’s gonna know what two fucking angels look like.”

“I don’t care. We know the sky better than the ground. I’d rather take our chance.”

“Adam, I don’t-” She breathed out, her lungs still weak from drowning in darkness.

“Just trust me,” He said, gathering her in his arms and walking from the alley. She had no choice but to comply and no strength to keep arguing. He bent down to grab the knife and noticed it was covered in a black, tarry substance.

Thankfully, the altercation hadn’t even drawn one bystander’s attention (why would it? This was Hell.) and so Adam unfurled his golden wings for the first time in months and took to the skies, Lute cradled in his arms as he flew them both to a hopeful salvation.

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel adam #hazbin hotel fanfiction #hazbin hotel fandom #adam x lute #guitarspear #hazbin hotel lute #adam hazbin hotel #guardrock #lute x adam #staring at the sun #fanfiction

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thelightsandtheroses · 1 year ago

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Secret Smile: A Tale of Two Reunions (Chapter Seven)

Secret Smile | Javier Peña x female reader

Summary: Before returning to Colombia to get things right this time, Javi’s childhood best friend asks him to keep an eye out for his sister while they’re both stationed in the embassy. Only you don’t need Javier to keep an eye you her. Your role as a new legal advisor is all about keeping an eye on him after all Sparks fly, lines will be drawn and broken and there’s everything to lose.

Word Count: 5.9 k Chapter Warnings: 18+ blog, language, mentions of alcohol, reader has a nickname (Blue) but no physical descriptors are used, depression, past sexual harassment and sexism, past toxic workplace with pretty terrible HR management, un beta’d. Author's Notes: Thanks, as always, for all your lovely comments and reblogs to this fic so far. It means the world to me. I've been very nervous about this chapter but I hope it works?

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Javi’s never spent much time in Florida before. Besides growing up in Texas, most of his working career has been spent in Colombia, or briefly Mexico at the start. He’s had a couple of meetings in DC, most notably the time he thought he would be fired and instead was offered this promotion.

Perks of the job, he supposes. Join the DEA and you’ll get to explore new places while stopping the bad guys; that was how it had been sold to him back in the day.

It’s draining though. Today he’s been in three different countries, taken two flights, plus he chased Jurado across a town like he still thought he was in his twenties. At least there’s only an hour time difference here. At least they get tonight to reset. You and Javi can’t fly back to Colombia until the morning so Javi and you have been booked into a nearby hotel.

You’re still with the lawyers from Justice. In fact, you were the one who had suggested he go back to the hotel, that why didn’t he check in with Steve while he was here, make the most of the unexpected delay? There isn’t anything else he can do right now.

So now he’s at the hotel bar, having just finished a decidedly average burger and fries that was the only meal that met the new expenses policy limits, making sure to pocket his receipt while he remembers, and you’re probably still working.

Since he came back to Colombia, since you came back into his life, he’s only really seen you working in the embassy. He’s watched you make calls, plans, smooth paths and write paperwork. He’s never seen you like he has today though; in full lawyer mode.

You’re impressive.

There were other lawyers there and waiting but it was you Javi was watching, you who took control of the situation and pushed for solutions. You who spoke to them to prepare the testimony from Jurado, who had written the deal out already.

Then when Javi walked back in the room some time later and saw Jurado’s lawyer, he knew. He saw your face, the frustration clear, but you still tried.

He watched you dodge and weave through Starkman’s arguments, to try and make the deal still happen. You were calm, methodical, collected. Every now and then you’d meet Javi’s gaze, looking desperately like you wanted to roll your eyes at him over some unwelcome road bump and then turning your attention back to the moment as thought you had never looked at him.

You’ve both changed so much since Laredo; he remembers you there as shy, nervous, passionate about the things you loved, yes, but never like this.

It’s not enough though.

All that effort, running around Curacao in the sweltering heat and damn near falling of a roof like an idiot, all of it is for nothing. Javi has a feeling it doesn’t matter how skilled you are as a lawyer; it’s all going nowhere without Christina. Jurado won’t talk until she’s safe. Javi doesn’t even blame him.

Javi wonders what that’s like, loving someone that much. Though he wonders how much love there is to expose your wife to that situation, to use her passport to further your work. She was clearly unhappy when Javi spoke to her, he could see the loneliness in her eyes. The Jurados are truly in a sorry mess now.

Javi’s time in Colombia is one step forward and five steps back. Franklin’s wife still hasn’t arrived at the embassy. Javi swears Christina was on board, she was ready when he spoke to her on the runway - she was meant to be on her way so he can’t see her going to Jurado’s employers instead. No, there’s a rising sense of dread and worry coating his skin like sweat. Things are only going to get worse. Stoddard and the team are trying to find where she might be in the city, to see if they can get her and bring her to the US.

There’s nothing he can do from here right now though. He’s a passenger right now, until tomorrow, until they land back in Bogotá. He’s powerless and he hates it.

He notices Steve instantly as he walks over to Javi’s table in the smoking section. Javi moves his empty plate to one side before standing up to greet his old partner.

Steve looks well - being away from Colombia suits him. The last time they’d spoken, Steve had said that things were a lot better with him and Connie, that Olivia was in preschool and happy, that being home was working for him. He’s a DEA consultant now; he trains new agents, provides case studies or advice on how to approach a case.

He’s not in the field though.

Steve fought his battle. He was there when they took down Escobar.

They order drinks and make the initial small talk before Steve proudly shows Javi the latest photo of Olivia in his wallet. If anything is a stark reminder of the years that have passed, the sizeable amount of Javi’s life dedicated to this war, it’s seeing that Olivia isn’t a baby anymore. She’s a child with her hair in bunches and a wide toothy grin on her face. Javi wonders if she even remembers Colombia now, if she would remember him or any of her time there.

A few minutes later, Steve takes a gulp from his beer and looks at Javi carefully. His expression is one Javi recognises; this is the moment when Steve is getting to the crux of whatever he wanted to raise.

“I can’t believe they wanted you back,” he says lightly.

“Me either. Thought I was being fired when I went to DC after it all went down.”

“You’re a good agent, Javier. You know we couldn’t have - we couldn’t have done what we did without you. I just still can’t get over that you actually went back there,” Steve continues and Javi gets the sense that Steve means a lot more than just that the DEA had invited him back. “That you’ve spent months back there again and what - you’re in for a few more, another year of this?”

He’s not sure how to respond that, what he’s supposed to say about the albatross of obligation and redemption that’s bound so tightly around his neck that it’s become a noose.

“Job wasn’t done, Steve. The Cali godfathers, all of that - I want to get it right. Besides, I’m not sure now I’m back that they actually did want me back.”

“What do you mean?”

Javi stubs out his cigarette. “They wanted a poster boy.”

Steve laughs at that, shakes his head. “And they thought of you?”

“Hey, of the two of us, I am obviously the better looking one.”

“In my first week in Bogotá, you asked me to sneak papers down my trousers out of a secure lock up.”

“And I stand by that, Steve.”

“How the fuck would they ever have thought you’d just sit there and take that?”

Javi lights a cigarette and shrugs, offering the packet to Steve who shakes his head.

“I quit.”

“I did try the gum,” Javi admits before taking a long drag of his cigarette.

“That seems to be working out well for you,” Steve says dryly.

“Fucking brilliantly,” he says, raising his eyebrows.

“So, they wanted a figurehead, not - not you. How’s that going? You didn’t answer me. I know you, Javi, I know you wouldn’t do that.”

“They have tried to make it harder - fucking Stechner’s been - himself. Um, there’s a lawyer who works in tandem with Justice and the Ambassador and is my - unofficial liaison? I don’t know. Unofficially, they wanted her to keep an eye on me.” It feels like a terrible way to describe Blue, to introduce who she is to Steve.

Steve puts his glass down and meets Javi’s gaze straight on.

“What the fuck?”

“Yeah. It’s fine though. It turns out I knew her so -”

“Oh god, Javi. She’s not someone you slept with before, is she?”

“Wow, do you really think so little of me?”

Steve raises his eyebrows at Javi and yeah, maybe he knows where Steve is coming from. The thing is, despite his reputation, he doesn’t feel like he was as much as a rogue as people wanted to paint him.

“No, she’s from Laredo,” he says. “Actually, I was good friends with her brother growing up so I’ve known her a long time. Still am friends with her brother. She’s a good person, Steve. She wants the same thing as me. Blue wants us to get the godfathers, shut it down. We need to get real justice for the people, so that’s what we’re going for.”

“Blue?”

“Oh, fuck, it’s just her nickname from when we were kids.”

“So, you’re just working with her, Javi? This woman from your hometown, you’ve known for years you’re telling me? Who you call by her childhood nickname? Who is your friend’s sister? And you’re just … working together on this?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You forget I know you Javi and I’m hearing how you’re talking about her.”

“Fuck off.”

“Too close to home? Tread carefully, Javi, please.”

He doesn’t know the half of it, Javi thinks, immediately thinking of the moment he almost kissed you. He takes a deep drag of his cigarette and doesn’t answer letting silence be his answer.

“How’s it down there now anyway?“ Steve asks after a moment. His voice manages to convey both a desire to be distanced from Bogotá and a sense of wistfulness at once. Javi gets it.

“It’s the same but different, Steve. The godfathers aren’t like Escobar. It’s a whole different type of battle down there right now.” Javi can’t tell Steve about the surrender deal he’s blown up, about the way everything is working out, or rather how it isn’t, about how fragile and terrifying the odds feel right now.

“So, what are you going to do when it’s done?”

“No fucking idea. You’re the one who said I was a lifer.”

Steve pauses and takes a sip of his own drink. “Yeah, I did say that didn’t I?”

Javi shrugs, raises his beer to his friend in a mock salute.

He’s not sure how to truly answer Steve. He’s not sure what’s next for him; he can’t see himself in Laredo but the job is weighing on him, the job is changing. In all honesty, he has no clue what will come next. Home? His dad’s ranch? The life he originally wanted to escape? It’d be kind of poetic, he supposes. He’s not sure what else there is for him except DEA station after station for the rest of his life, watching his agents take part in missions while he sits in a suit and argues with other people about it.

“Anyway, tell me what’s new with you,” Javi asks instead.

The paperwork and handoff with your Justice colleagues takes hours. A part of you almost enjoyed the discussions with Starkman, the back and forth and chess moves to try and get what you needed.

You’re still not there though and that’s frustrating, draining even. You’re used to getting through a problem, but this one worries you.

Still, Jurado is in custody, the team have a solid case against him and that prosecution will proceed. Javi just needs him to talk and maybe he can get Christina back at the table too.

You’ve done as much as possible right now.

All you can think about right now is how desperately you’re looking forward to getting to your hotel room and changing out of these sticky, creased clothes, having a shower and then sleeping until you need to get up for Tomorrow’s flight to Bogotá. You’re past the point of wanting food, of wanting anything other than this day to be over and for you to crawl into bed.

You’re finally on your way out of the building when you bump into him.

He looks just like he did all those months ago, back when you were last in DC. An expensive suit, intricately coiffured honeyed hair, wafting overpriced cologne that follows him with every step.

“What are you doing here?” you ask, a mix of surprise and horror in your voice when you watch his eyes take you in. Your palms are becoming sweaty already and you’re desperate to get out of this building, to get as far away from here as quickly as possible.

This can’t be happening. He can’t be here.

“Oh, just a Justice case I’ve been working on. I can’t really -“ he says after a pause.

“Right, of course.” You’re wondering if you can get away with stamping your heel through his overpriced Italian shoes before you run out of the building.

“Why are you here? The last I heard you were working in Mexico?”

You feel a pang of annoyance; frustration that he knows enough about you to know you were working abroad, that he assumed it would be in Mexico. You’re outraged that his tone is as relaxed as it is, almost lazy. How dare he? How fucking dare he?

“Colombia,” you correct. “That’s why I’m here - it’s for the case we’re working on.”

“Damn, that’s intense.”

“It’s fine,” you say, your voice unfamiliar and sharp. It’s the same tone you used to employ in the courtroom against particularly difficult attorneys. It’s your ice queen voice, the one that other lawyers used to dread, that earned you your steely reputation for excellence.

The memories flood you; good, bad, somewhere in between. It’s like an avalanche, as though everything you’ve been avoiding has just hit you all at once and your chest is tight and you’re not entirely sure if you’re even breathing correctly right now.

You left DC to avoid having to go through this. You fucking moved country to avoid this.

How can he be here? What forces have you upset to bring such an awful, obscure coincidence into your day? And if he’s here, what if …

Their names freeze on your tongue. You swallow, even though your mouth feels bone dry. You can do this, you think. You can.

“You took the job I was going for, after everything,” you say, folding your arms around yourself. The hate, rage, and devastation tastes sour like bile in your mouth. “Even after what happened?”

You remember everything.

“It was a promotion. Did you honestly expect me to say no? You wanted that job too, remember? You can’t honestly tell me you have said no if our positions were reversed.”

“Of course I would have.”

“No, you wouldn’t. You’re kidding yourself if you think that. I know you; I remember what you were like in court. You’re ambitious.”

It’s not a point worth arguing. You know the truth and you know you’ll never know what could have been. You’re sure you wouldn’t have though, you’re sure your moral code would have prevailed.

In another world though, maybe the positions are reversed and you’re standing in Simon’s shoes. If that had happened then you’d never have bumped into Javi again, you’d be in DC going about your old life with your old friends. It’s unimaginable.

You feel like that version of yourself is dead.

“So, what? Now you work with them?” you probe, because now the wound is open you can’t stop the outpouring, “What, do you all sit in the office together? Have a good laugh and joke about it - about me? Do you join in?”

He whispers your name, gaze fixated on the floor. All you can think is that this man used to be your friend and now he can hardly meet your eyes. You can barely even think of him without your blood pressure rising.

“Nothing actually happened,” Simon says after a moment, “he didn’t actually do anything to you, didn’t even touch you. That’s what you said to me, remember? Look, everything got out of hand, it didn’t need to go down like that.”

There’s an uncomfortable silence as you take in his admonishment. It’s on you then, you’re the one who rocked the boat, who blew the whistle. No, that’s not right.

“Fuck you. I never want to speak to you again, Simon.”

You spin on your heels, eager to get away, get out of here. Your heart is racing, your body feels numb and the voices of the ghosts that haunt you whisper in your ear the whole way to the hotel.

“Hey Shelley, it’s Jamie …I don’t think she’s doing so well. I think you should try and get a flight out … I know … I know … Shelley? I don’t know if she’s coming back from this. I think we’re losing her.”

You sink your head deeper into the bath water as though the water has the answers. Maybe Jamie’s right.

You’re not sure who you are anymore, who you can trust.

Maybe they’re right. Maybe it’s all you. Maybe you’ve misinterpreted and twisted it all. You’ve been through it a thousand times and each time the details get hazier, less clear. You doubt yourself more by the day. Some days you’re not even sure what’s real anymore.

You have so much more empathy for any witness you’ve ever put on the stand now.

Maybe Jamie’s right too. You’re not sure how you come back from this? How do you ever go back to the office and just pretend it hasn’t happened?

You’ve prided yourself on being a strong lawyer, on being one of the best in your office. You never give up. Not usually.

This is different though.

You’re so tired. So drained. You feel like there’s nothing inside you anymore, like the process of the last few months has shucked the life out of you leaving only a shell behind.

Your promotion is over. You’ll have to continue to sit opposite them day in and day out and just - pretend? Every day, hour after hour, you’ll just sit there and know they’ll be talking about you the second you leave the room. You’ll be given all of the lousy cases, never progress further. You’ll be the cautionary tale to any other woman in the office who would dare speak up. You’ll be judged, you’re already being judged.

It’s only been two weeks and you can’t do it a day longer.

You’re done.

Your ex-boyfriend is sleeping on your sofa because he’s the only person you have left in this city. Because every other friend you have in this city you have either just realised is not your friend, or you have quietly just shut out until they stopped calling.

Except for Jamie, and that’s only because of Shelley and Carlos. Only because they called him out of worry, out of fear. Only because Shelley wouldn’t let you cut her off and leave you to your loneliness.

In her last call, she had gently suggested changing jobs, seeking a change of scenery - was that how she phrased it? It wasn’t running away, she said, it would be prioritising yourself. She mentioned that Laredo needed a new ADA. It felt too close though. You can’t go home broken like this, you’re not ready.

You heard from an old law school friend there was good legal work available in some of the embassies a while ago, that he’d got to travel to amazing countries for his job before he’d settled down in California last summer. Maybe something like that would be far enough away. He’d offered to recommend you for a post if you were looking for something new. You were going for the promotion then though so you put him off. But now?

You rise up from the bathtub, rest your arms either side of the bath and think for a moment.

Maybe Shelley’s right. It’s time for a change.

He sees you in the lobby just as he’s leaving the bar with Steve. Javi feels a little lighter; catching up with Steve has helped. For an hour or so, he’s been able to forget about Christina, to forget about Jurado, to remember when the job was more active, when he had a partner with him on this and he didn’t have to wear a suit and sit in stressful meetings.

Before Steve turned up in Colombia, Javi had felt like he was treading through molasses, every step infinitely harder than it should be. No one cared enough, he was fighting and it felt futile.

Javi scoffs at the memory. Yeah, why is that familiar again?

He waves you over with a casual smile as your paths are about to cross.

“Hey, Blue, this is -” Javi begins.

“I’m so sorry, I have to go,” you say, brushing past him.

Javi looks at your retreating form in surprise. “That was weird.” He’d thought you want to meet Steve, after all you’d encouraged him to meet Steve in the first place.

“She’s upset,” Steve says quietly.

“What? No, she isn’t, Steve.” You’re clearly not upset; Javi knows you, knows how tough you are. No, Steve has to be wrong.

“Well, she looked upset,” Steve persists.

“How do you - you don’t even know her, Steve.”

“I have a wife, Javi, and she looks like Connie when she’s upset. ”

He thinks back to your face as you walked back - everything in your body seemed tightly coiled like a spring and were those tears in your eyes? Your voice was so distant too. Maybe things had been more stressful with the Justice guys than he thought.

He’s not sure where you are in the hotel though; whether he should even try and talk to you right now.

Steve’s right though, something’s wrong and Javi needs to know why.

You make your way to the plane quietly, noticing Javi standing by the gangway, coffees balanced precariously in your hands. He’s wearing his DEA jacket and yellow aviators that he’s clearly had for a while.

He nods in acknowledgement when he sees you.

You wordlessly hand him a coffee before you both walk onto the plane.

The coffee served at breakfast was terrible; maybe the worst hotel coffee you’ve ever had. You’d taken full advantage of a five-minute window to get coffee at the airport; it was a need not a want. You’d bought one for Javi without a thought.

He smiles when he takes the coffee and your fingers brush very slightly in the handover.

“You saw the breakfast coffee then?” He asks lightly, giving you the out. In this moment you think he might be the best person you know.

“That wasn’t coffee. No idea what it was, but it wasn’t coffee.”

The two of you sit opposite each other, your coffees on the table in front of you.

“How was Steve?” you ask politely as the plane begins to move down the runway, “I’m sorry I had to uh, go straight to the room. Think I ate something off.” You hate that such an embarrassing lie is your excuse, that you prefer the idea of Javi thinking that than knowing you were upset, than running the risk of him asking why.

“Are you okay now?” Javi asks before sitting opposite you on the plane.

“I’m fine.”

“Steve thought - I thought … ”

“I’m fine.”

“Are you sure?”

No, you think, no I have hardly slept and I feel ridiculous that last night took me back like it did.

“I’m fine,” you repeat.

Javi nods at you but his furrowed brow tells you that he doesn’t believe you.

“Still no word from Christina?” you ask, automatically squeezing your knee as you feel the plane ascend higher in the air.

“No,” Javi says, pinching his brow. “Are we fucked without her?”

“We need to find her to secure Jurado’s testimony, yes. But if you have something else, another angle for this case then … maybe we’ll be okay.”

“What is really going on with you?”

Perhaps it’s because he’s persistent, perhaps it’s because he is meticulously trained in extracting truths from people, or perhaps it’s because he’s from home and he feels safe right now. You feel the words rise up though.

“I saw someone I used to work with.”

“And that upset you?”

“Yes.”

“Did they say something to you? Was that why were you upset?”

“No, he didn’t.”

“So did the bastard break your heart back in DC or something?” Javi jokes and then pauses when he sees your face.

You could let him have this misunderstanding. Pin it all on his assumption. You can see the cogs turning, the maths in his head, your near kiss makes sense to him now and your subsequent rejection.

You should let him believe this.

“Javi,” you say softly, “you have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“So tell me,” he says bluntly, looking at you with plaintive eyes. “Help me understand.”

“He was a friend and now he’s not. It’s simple. No big drama,” you say, looking out of the window at the cerulean sky all around you.

“Well, something clearly happened.” Javi shifts forward towards you, his elbows on the plastic table between you, hands closer to yours. “Blue, did something happen yesterday? Do we need to -” You can hear a hint of alarm in his voice and quickly realise what he’s assuming.

“No, no. He didn’t - please, it’s nothing. It’s honestly not - I’m just - it’s nothing, Javi.”

“It’s nothing? Doesn’t sound like nothing.”

“It’s a long story.”

“Well, we’ve got time.” He shifts, moves his hands across the desk that divides you; the distance between your bodies feeling more like a chasm with each breath.

“It’s stupid, don’t worry about it, Javi. Nothing happened,” you say, aware you’re just repeating Simon’s own words and excuses to you.

“Blue?”

There are wars in your head. Arguments screaming and competing to be the loudest. You want to tell him. You can’t tell him.

You have this overwhelming desire to bare your soul right now though, you would like him to know and to understand.

It’s pathetic though, you think, so trifling to someone like him. He’s worked for the DEA for around a decade; Javi’s heard and probably seen far, far worse things happen to people. Simon’s words repeat over and over in your mind.

“Nothing actually happened … he didn’t do anything to you.”

If nothing happened though, why did it affect you so much? You’ve prosecuted far more evil men in your career: murderers, rapists. You know how the world works. That office, those men, even without touching you they broke you down. Sometimes you hate yourself for that, that you let that happen.

“It’s okay,” Javi says suddenly, breaking you out of your thoughts. “I’m sorry I asked. You don’t have to -”

“I was applying for a promotion, for the same job Simon has now. I would have been running the department I worked for and I was ready for it. I was so ready for it, Javi. I - there were always comments and I’m used to that. I’ve been the only woman in my office many times before. I know what to expect, how to ignore it and block it out. I know people say about me behind my back.”

“Blue -”

“There was this guy though, not the guy from yesterday, not Simon. It was someone else.”

You pause, unwilling to say his name and wring your hands. Just thinking about taking about this has made your throat feel dry, your palms sweaty and there’s a slow building sense of dread.

You steal a look at Javi who’s calm and solid and you realise that right now you do want to explain it to him. You do want to tell him.

You’d like him to understand.

It’s just finding the right words. The ones that don’t make it sound worse than it was, because you always worry that if you do that somehow you’re taking something away from the people who’ve really been through it. But it’s about finding the words that don’t lessen it either. You’re balancing on a tightrope of trying to convey the right tone, the right intent. You want to be dispassionate when you tell him about something you can never be dispassionate about.

“He made me feel uncomfortable,” you say after a moment.

Javi furrows his brow at this. You notice the way he fidgets with his hand on the table; a tic you’ve noticed throughout the past few months. He flutters his fingers before clenching them together, it’s a telling physical manifestation of his nerves you’ve picked up over the months.

“Don’t look like that, Javi, he didn’t do anything, not really.”

“So he did do something?” Javi asks, his eyes have become so intensely dark they’re almost obsidian and his gaze is completely focused on you. You notice how he scans you over, almost checking as though there’s some type of physical mark or scar he can find and appoint to this story.

“Hey, who’s the lawyer here?” you ask, desperate to break the moment, shaking your head. Javi raises his hands in mock defeat and you take a deep breath.

“He made comments, a lot of them and they were - nothing unusual at first, but then maybe they felt almost a little sinister and I - I started to feel really vulnerable in the office. I had to work with him on this important case, we were alone and - and I know it was only words but still. Anyway, I made a complaint.” You regard the dark varnish on your nails, notice the chip on your left index finger before you look at the floor. “That was a mistake. Big mistake.”

“Blue,” Javi says sadly.

“I know, it doesn’t sound all that relevant yet. It will. Anyway, it didn’t go well. They just - closed ranks. My promotion was cancelled. I uh - everyone in the department talked about what had happened openly in the office. Everything I’d spent years working towards for slipped away from me in a second.”

“And what happened to the guy?”

”He didn’t face any consequences and uh, that’s where Simon comes in, I guess. He got my promotion. And uh, to do that, he sided with the guy when he spoke to my old boss. They all did. Only Simon told me beforehand that he believed me. Didn’t stop him from going after a promotion though.”

“Fucking asshole.”

“That was the worst part of it all - Simon was my friend, Javi. I thought he was my friend.”

Even now you can hear the heavy pain in your voice when you say that, the way his betrayal had just been too much and had cut you open deeper than any knife could have.

“Oh, Blue. It’s okay, you don’t have to -”

“So obviously, I couldn’t stay there after that. When this opportunity came up, I figured I should just do it. Seize the day, right?”

“Seize the day,” Javi repeats flatly.

“And I ended up here.”

You don’t feel relief at your confession; you feel embarrassed. Javi’s DEA - he’s probably heard of far, far worse things happening to other women. Here you are, a mess over seeing someone who let you down once. Here you are, the woman who clearly just couldn’t take a joke.

“Stop that,” he says gently, reaching for your hand and gently squeezing it.

“Stop what?”

“I can see those thoughts going through your head. Don’t.”

“I just -”

“What a fucking shitbag,” he mumbles, “I’m sorry that happened.”

“Wasn’t you,” you say quietly. “It was a while ago, I’m over it. It just bought some stuff up.”

“If you’d told me last night -”

“What, you would have found out where he was and confronted him?”

“Maybe,” he says with a crooked smile and shrug.

“Javi.”

“Blue,” he says, teasingly matching your tone.

“How was Steve?” you ask, desperate to divert attention from yourself. Javi looks at you for a long moment and then nods.

“He was okay,” he says, “It was good to catch up. Hadn’t seen him since I was last in Colombia.”

“Well, I’m glad you got to see him.”

A comfortable silence falls that is only broken when the pilot announces you’ll be landing shortly.

You strain to look out of the window, at the lush greenery and dramatic topography of Colombia.

“It’s a nicer plane than when I first came here.”

“Yeah?”

“I was stuck next to this guy who took up far more room than he should have, so I had to virtually hang over the aisle and then he had the audacity to spend the flight loudly snoring. He also had gas.”

Javi scowls in sympathy. ”Jeez.”

“I know.”

The plane lands smoothly and before you know it, you’re both standing up, ready to get back to the embassy and world.

This flight, this whole trip, has felt like a strange interlude from reality. One filled with ghosts and memories; welcome ones for Javi and unpleasant ones for you.

You’re ready to get back into that open plan office, to hearing meaningless gossip from Linda.

Javi takes your bag from the locker without a word, balancing it precariously with his own suitcase.

“Hey, Javi?” you ask as he hands your handbag when you finally descend the gangway.

“Yeah, Blue?”

“None of my family knows. I told my parents, told Rafa, it was a change I’d been planning for some time.”

“Understood. Thanks for - thanks for sharing that with me, cariño.” Javi nods at you, an unspoken message passing between you.

You’re nervous when you head into the office next day. While you spent most of your working day with Javi yesterday and nothing else was said about what you discussed on the plane, it’s plagued you.

What if he is different with you? What if this is another mistake and he judges you - or worse, what if he pities you? You don’t think you could stand to stay in this job if he looks at you with pity.

He’s standing in his office when you arrive. Arms folded onto his hips, staring at a pile of papers on his desk.

“Hey Javi.”

“Hi.” He looks at up and smiles. It’s a rare sight and you’re glad you’re a professional because his smile could floor you. You have a feeling Javi’s not really struggled for company over the years; that between his puppy eyes and soft smile, the low dulcet tones of his voice, he knows exactly what he is doing.

“So uh, what’s the plan?” you ask, taking a long sip from the mug of coffee you dutifully took from your office kitchen to Javi’s. You’re very glad the embassy safety representative didn’t see you, no doubt they’d tell you off for wandering around with open topped hot beverages.

You needed the coffee though, needed the defensive barriers you knew it would provide.

You didn’t really sleep much last night.

Jurado is a mess, the deal’s off and no matter how hard you tried, he just won’t talk without his wife.

“We’re going after Miguel Rodríguez,” he says after a pause. “That’s the next step.”

“Have we got a plan?”

“Yeah, we do. Feistl’s got an informant, we can get him, Blue. It’s not over yet.”

“It’ll need some thought, Javi - you don’t want to tip him off. Right now, from what I hear from the local prosecutors, things are not looking great. Miguel’s a loose cannon. It’s a worry. ”

“So, let’s stop him,” Javi says simply. “We’re nearly there.”

“Okay,” you reply, “Okay, Javi. I’m with you.”

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cazzyf1 · 5 months ago

Text

Quotes about Helmut Koinigg from the book 'Unsere Champions - Alles über Österreichs Jahrhundert- Rennfahrer 1900-2003'

"I helped him a few times in his somewhat chaotic career," remembers Helmut Marko. A nice guy, but a bit of a slob who had no organization - until he came to me with his contracts."

"He had a short, promising career, almost sky-storming: unfortunately an unfinished symphony. Helmut Koinigg was good," says Niki Lauda today. "But he died far too early to even know what would happen next."

Father Koinigg, a very well-off industrialist, was always against his only child racing - and never supported him.

Even from Lauda: “A consistent, intelligent guy who tried with all the difficulties you could possibly have to fight his way into Formula I - namely without any money. When he drove Formula Vee, he couldn't even pay the hotel bill at the Nürburgring...

What always impressed me about Koinigg was how unswervingly he pursued his path. In his premiere race in Aspern near Vienna, he continued to fight bravely with the ex-Lauda Mini even after the windshield had tipped out.

Helmut studied journalism and mechanical engineering at the Vienna University of Technology, where he was met by the two geniuses Dr. Get to know Fritz Indra and Ing. Heinz Lippitsch - and pass them on directly to Kurt Bergmann.

“Perhaps the nicest person I have ever met - but also the most difficult. Because he was so ambitious."

In 1974 he married his girlfriend, a stewardess: "Gaby has to earn the money that I spent on racing..." The 25-year-old is only half a year away from getting his doctorate. And all that's left to achieve perfect racing luck is Formula I.

I want to start over with Koinigg and rebuild everything from scratch. I'm taking Helmut because of his talent, his ability and his team spirit. If he didn't have these qualities, I wouldn't have signed him even with a lot of sponsorship money," Surtees tells me. Koinigg happily packs his two jersey bags for Canada and the USA

Koinigg is partying in Toronto, browsing for antiques, but most of us are flying to the Bahamas

Lauda has “the stupid feeling all day that something is happening,” and he pays particular attention. The track: even bumpier than last, with even worse vibrations. “They hit me like electric shocks,” admits Koinigg.

“It's a terrible feeling when the guard rails are staring you in the face, just 3 cm from the road,” Koinigg tells me quietly.

Five pilots are coming to the GPDA safety conference: Lauda. Koinigg, Hill, Hulme and Beltoise

On Saturday Helmut tried for two hours to call Gaby in Vienna but doesn't get through. The phone call doesn't work until Sunday morning. Helmut has breakfast with Huppert and Stommelen

The reconstruction shows: The two safety fences gave way during the impact. as if they were curtains. The bottom two of the three guide rails immediately collapsed because the pencil-thin bolts fell out. The car went under the third rail. Koinigg didn't have the slightest chance in a 2nd gear corner - whatever defect caused the Surtees to leave the road

Niki Lauda, shaken, takes off his helmet after two pit stops and says to Montezemolo: Luca, it has become pointless for me to continue driving. His race director understands immediately

No part of the car that was broken wasn't also bent. But the inner carcass of the left rear tire was completely damaged and this defect was certainly not caused by contact with the guard rails. Sudden explosion? Or the infamous "slow puncture", a slow slip like the one that cost Jim Clark his life at Hockenheim in 1968? I don't think so," says Surtees today, "Helmut was a sensitive racing driver. He would certainly have felt that."

The most touching moment was years later when a particularly kind Ms. Magister spoke to me quietly in a pharmacy in Hietzing: “I am the mother of Helmut Koinigg. Gaby, Helmut's wife, was already married again: to an attaché at the French embassy in Vienna. And Surtees again had an Austrian pilot - Hans Binder. Only at Ferrari in Maranello does Helmut Koinigg's last photo hang unchanged.

The last photograph ever taken of Helmut Koinigg

#oh poor Helmut #my sweet guy #it was nice being able to read more about him #classic f1 #f1 #formula one #formula 1 #vintage f1 #helmut koinigg #helmuth koinigg

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aniron48 · 10 months ago

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24. just really needed a hug sort of hug for 00leiter would be amazing if inspiration strikes! 🥰

Alex, mi vida! Thank you for always inspiring and indulging my deep-seated need for 00leiter, and thank you for this prompt. 🥰 Your wish is my command, my friend! It's here, continuing below the cut, as well as on ao3:

sometimes it takes the night to fall

“My mother wanted me to go to law school,” Felix says. His tone is measured, and this, this, is something he’s going to include in his annual performance review at the Agency, which his supervisor signs every year without reading a word: Agent Leiter is calm and measured, even when he is soaking wet, covered in pink feathers, and holding a flash drive with the plans for a chemical weapon designed to take out half of Europe, circumstances which Agent Leiter would have avoided entirely had his MI6 counterpart not been a fucking asshole.

“‘You’ll make good money, son,’ she would tell me,” Felix says. He pulls his Glock out of his holster, pointing it toward the floor to let the water drain from the barrel. “‘You’ll wear nice suits.’ But no, I knew better. I didn’t want to take the motherfucking bar exam.”

“You wear nice suits now, Felix,” Bond drawls, looking him up and down, and Felix is either going to punch or kiss that look off his face, but he hasn’t decided which, yet.

“Normally, I would agree with you, James,” Felix says. Measuredly, again, because he’s a goddamn station chief for the CIA. “But right now, my nice suit looks like it survived simultaneous explosions at a poultry farm and a Pepto-Bismol factory.”

Felix had had plans for their mission in Prague, plans which involved a timeline, and coordinates on a map, and the judicious use of SIGINT. James Bond had had instincts, and even if those instincts had been accurate, as far as identifying the Belarusian middleman they were looking for went, his methods left a lot to be desired, seeing as they primarily involved a chase through a crowded craft fair in the center of town, followed by what could charitably be called hijacking a bachelorette cruise in order to chase said middleman down the Vltava River. And now here they were, on a deserted dock in a decidedly seedy part of town, mercifully free of bachelorettes, but with an unconscious henchman tied to an oil barrel behind them, waiting for the ride that would take them not to their warm, comfortable hotel room near Karluv Most, but to the U.S. Embassy, where Felix could hand off the hard drive and then spend the rest of the night filling out the ream of paperwork required after the sort of nuclear-grade shitshow James Bond tended to leave behind him on a good night.

“I think I know what you need, Felix,” Bond says, and the way his mouth turns up at the corner can’t mean anything good.

“What I need,” Felix says, “is not to be picking penis-shaped confetti out of my beard.”

“No,” Bond says, stepping closer, and if the British exfil team doesn’t get there soon, Felix is going to paddle to the Embassy on a goddamn inflatable canoe, “No, that’s not it.”

He brings a hand to the back of Felix’s head, drawing him in close. “Why don’t you start by putting your arm around my waist.”

They’re Felix’s own words from years ago, directed back at him with Bond’s characteristically lethal precision. Not long after the events in Bolivia, Felix had flown into London for the memorial service of another MI6 colleague who had died in the line of duty. Later, after everyone else had left, he’d joined Bond where he stood in the back of the church, stiff with grief and the bone-deep chill of the British winter.

“She drowned, you know,” Bond had said, his tone conversational. “004, I mean. She deserved better. It’s a terrible way to go.”

Bond and Felix had been lovers for mere weeks at that point, if that designation even applied to the handful of hours they’d stolen in South American hotel rooms and, on one memorable occasion, the lost luggage room of a train station in the middle of nowhere. But Felix wasn’t an idiot. He’d been in Venice when Vesper died. Even then, he’d known Bond well enough to know what wounds would be fatal to him, if left untreated.

“It is,” Felix had said. He hadn’t dared to say much of anything else. “I’m sorry for your loss, James.”

“It’s England’s loss,” Bond had said. He’d already begun to go distant around the edges, all of the lines of his body tensed for a fight. Felix had wanted nothing more than to demand Bond come back with him to his hotel room, to fuck him fast and merciless until all the tension bled from his body, until he was easy and louche again, unspooled against the Egyptian cotton sheets. But his first instinct with Bond wasn’t always the right one, back then, and he’d looked at Bond in silence for a long moment before making his decision.

“Come here,” he’d said. “I’m going to give you a hug.”

Bond had looked at Felix like he’d just suggested they piss in the baptismal font. “A what?”

“A hug, Bond. Jesus Christ. Come here.” He’d pulled Bond in by the lapel of his expensive wool coat. “You start by putting your arm around my waist, like that. Then you put your other arm around my shoulders. Like this, asshole. And then—” Felix had squeezed with all his might. “Then you hold on tight.”

They are here, now, tonight—and by “here” Felix means Prague, means the dock, means covered in dirty river water and the detritus of phallus-shaped souvenirs, but he also means so much more than that—in no small part because all those years ago, his own instincts had been right when he’d taken James Bond in his arms in an empty church, and so as angry as he is, he’s powerless to deny James this, now. He gives in to the inevitable and steps into the embrace, dropping his head against James’s neck.

“I hate you,” he says, but there’s no longer any heat in it. “This was the worst night of my career.”

“The ladies liked it,” Bond says.

“The ‘ladies’ thought we were strippers. One of them threw her drink on me when I refused to take my shirt off.”

“The night is still young,” Bond points out. Felix refuses to turn his head to look at him, on principle, but he can feel Bond’s smile against his cheek.

“Fuck you and your entire country,” Felix says. “I’m glad we threw your fucking tea in the harbor.” But his head is still on Bond’s shoulder, and his arms are around his waist, and he’ll stay that way until the sound of a distant motor signals that their ride is near, and the night moves on around them.

#prompt fills #one shot #my fic #sometimes it takes the night to fall #james bond #felix leiter #00leiter #fluff

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azlan-snow · 5 months ago

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Broadcast Husbands

Chapter Five: Happiness and New Guests

(Told from Vox’s POV)

As Charlie and I step into the hotel, we are in awe at the renovations.

“Welcome to the Hazbin Hotel!” Alastor appears in front of us, grinning widely, taking pleasure in our shock. Charlie drops the groceries she was holding and rushes toward him. She embraces my husband with tears flowing from her pale face, causing him discomfort. He looks at me, confusion on his face. ‘Just go with it,’ I display on my screen. He accepts Charlie and hugs her back, with a look of pain and confusion lying on his face. “Why the tears, darling?”

“I’m happy,” she mumbles, face buried in Alastor’s chest, sobbing.

“Thank you, Al. Thank you so much.”

“You’re quite welcome, darling. Now would you be so kind as to release me? Your grip is immaculate and strangling.”

“Oh! Sorry, Al. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”

“It’s quite alright. I’m guessing by your tears of joy that you like what I’ve done?”

“Yes. I love it. It’s beautiful.”

“Of course it is! It was created by a man of style, darling!” Charlotte giggles at his words, finally smiling after what occurred at the embassy. I’m happy Al didn’t go with us, as he would have destroyed the whole thing. Hell, I even thought about it. But Charlie and I kept our cool and dealt with that bitch accordingly. I can’t wait to kill that angel. But I am happy to see her smile once more. She’s like our kid, now. We have to take care of her and each other. But that aside, it was time for preparation. I picked up the groceries that Charlie had dropped and walked over to him and whispered in his ear.

“Good Job, honey.” I enter and see how fashioned to him it is. He would probably hate it if everything was modern. I remember when he first tried to use my kitchen. He kept asking how it worked, and in the end, gave up and ordered takeout from his frustration. That was the most frustrated I’ve seen the man. It was absolutely hilarious. He insisted that he replace it with something more to his time so he could cook, and I gave in. He is an excellent cook, after all. Unless he’s cooking sinners for dinner. Then it’s just gross.

I put everything away according to his labels and heard more voices from the lobby. “Damn Girl! What’cha do to the place?”

“Hey Angel! I didn’t do anything. It was all Al!”

“Al?” Alastor sounded offended by the nickname.

“Strawberry pimp did this? That’s impressive, dude.”

“Thank you, my effeminate friend.”

“What are you doing near her, you red-headed freak? Get away from Charlie!”

“Relax, Vaggie, it’s fine. Besides, I’m the one who invaded his space, not the other way around.”

“I don’t care!”

“Relax, dear girl. If I were going to hurt anyone here, I would have done so already.” You can hear the radio static in his voice from here, which is outrageous. He might have laid it on too thick this time. I walk out of the kitchen, headed towards Alastor and gently placed my hand on his shoulder. “Al, stop. Tell her the other surprise.”

“Oh, yes. That should happen sooner than later, shouldn’t it.” He snaps his fingers and the fireplace lights in the living room with a small black object inside it. I shiver, since I know who it is. He picks up the black object. It opens one large eye and blinks before shaking off the soot that she was covered in. “This darling here is Niffty!” She falls to the ground, landing on her feet, and begins to pester everyone with budding questions. I stand next to him and she looks up at me in a devilish grin that rivals Al’s. “He~ey, Voxxy!”

“Hello, Niffty,” I say, avoiding eye contact with the very small and skittish girl.“There’s someone else too. He should be arriving here soon.” A knock on the door is heard and Charlie heads to open it. She peeks out and sees the cat demon, Husker, standing outside.

“Is this the right place? Fucker only told me edge of the pentagram.”

#hazbin hotel #alastor #charlie morningstar #hazbin alastor #fanfic #hazbin hotel au #broadcast husbands #radiostatic #platonic radiostatic #ao3 #angel dust #ao3 fanfic #ao3 writer

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silvergolddraco28 · 8 months ago

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Part 5 LMK x Hazbin Hotel

Reminder! Open Rp!

I am contemplating pairing Lucifer with Wukong and Macaque for this story at least.

I'm also free for any other ideas with these two fandoms (as long as Radioapple is more or less platonic.)

Anywho on with the story!

()()()()()()

She line barely rung before it was picked up. *”Charlie!?!? Where are you are you hurt!?!?”* a worried masculine voice asked on the other side of the line.

“I'm find dad I'm at the Hotel… are you currently outside or near a window looking towards the enter city?” Charlie asked

*”No i was in my workshop when that quake and magic wave hit. Did too good a job making the workshop disaster-proof.”* the voice grimaced before the faint sound of fire crackled through the phone slightly. *“Hells Bells! How the fuck did a tree grow in hell?!? Is that a sun rising!?!?”*

“Dad focus! Questions later! There is someone in the center of that tree having a severe panic attack!” Charlie stated on the phone. “I mind-melded with them through their magic Dad, i… i must have used their magic… we were buried alive under the rubble of the Embassy… we… i saw one of your feathers underground and *changed* it into an apple seed and we ordered it to grow and help us.” Charlie stammered trying to get her words across. Melding two minds through magic had risks especially if the minds had very opposite magic but Charlie was grateful the being in question had magic similar if not far more raw to her Dad’s and subsequently to her own even if hers was slightly more demonic but still had that angelic quality.

#lmk au #shadowpeach #hazbin lucifer #hazbin hotel rp #hazbin charlie #sun wukong x macaque #lmk sun wukong #lmk rp #fanfiction #six eared macaque #sun wukong

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mariacallous · 11 months ago

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Early last month, John Kerry and Xie Zhenhua, the special climate envoys representing the United States and China, held talks in southern California ahead of the Xi-Biden summit. The location—Sunnylands, a desert estate near Palm Springs—was symbolic. It was there that Xi Jinping and Barack Obama first met as presidents in 2013 and secured a climate breakthrough: a commitment to phase out hydrofluorocarbons, a group of powerful greenhouse gases used in refrigerators and air conditioners.

As Kerry and Xie arrived in Sunnylands 10 years later, they found themselves in more perilous circumstances, and with a finite window of opportunity. Friction between the U.S. and China disrupted climate talks in 2022, and new tensions—whether from the South China Sea or Taiwan’s upcoming January election—could slam the window shut again. Plus, Xie, China’s lead climate negotiator for the better part of two decades, will reportedly retire later this month.

The two envoys wasted no time during their summit, according to two climate experts familiar with the discussions. Kerry, who is 79, and Xie, who is 74 and recently recovered from a stroke, stayed up until 2 or 3 a.m. every night, hashing out plans. When the meetings reached their scheduled end, Kerry and his team drove west to Los Angeles with Xie, checking in to the Chinese team’s hotel to continue talking until their flight’s departure.

Climate has become a rare area of in-depth coordination between the two superpowers; the joint statement that would emerge from Sunnylands was the latest of three such statements from Xie and Kerry in the past three years. They are the elder statesmen of the climate circuit—Xie’s ruddy, round face as familiar as Kerry’s gaunt silhouette at international conferences. The extent of U.S.-China cooperation, former Chinese and U.S. officials as well as climate experts told Foreign Policy, is partly attributable to the two envoys and their bond, developed over decades of negotiations.

“This is a very good example of how personal leadership can transcend national differences,” said Li Shuo, director of the China climate hub at the Asia Society Policy Institute. “I think both Xie and Kerry, they are pushing that potential to the limit.” The two men have known each other for 25 years, and for both, climate diplomacy is far more than a job—it is a mission.

Born the same year as the People’s Republic of China, 1949, Xie’s early years were similar to those of many officials of that generation. During the Cultural Revolution, he was “sent down” to the countryside along with millions of other young people—to the northeastern tip of China, bordering Siberia. “My sense is the people who had that experience came back with a profound sense of the need for development, but [Xie] always coupled it with this view that the environment needs to be protected,” said Deborah Seligsohn, an assistant professor of political science at Villanova University who was formerly an environmental counselor at the U.S. Embassy in China.

Xie went on to study engineering at Tsinghua University and became an environmental official in the 1980s. By 1993 he was head of China’s version of the EPA. He held that position through the height of China’s economic boom—a difficult time to be in charge of protecting the environment. In 2005, Xie resigned from his position after a major chemical spill in the northern Songhua River. Though he had taken the fall for the crisis, he proved resilient. In 2007, he was appointed vice minister of the National Development and Reform Commission, a powerful post given the department’s role in economic planning. At the same time, he became China’s lead international climate negotiator—and it was then that his path intertwined with Kerry’s

Kerry’s own interest in environmentalism was sparked early on. “Carson instilled in me and a whole generation a sense of moral urgency,” Kerry wrote in his 2018 autobiography, referring to Rachel Carson’s Silent Spring, published his freshman year at Yale, which documented rampant pesticide pollution. As a Massachusetts senator starting in the ‘80s, Kerry promoted environmental legislation and attended international climate negotiations. “All through the years when he was a senator, if one senator would show up at the COP meetings at the end of the year, it was John Kerry,” Todd Stern, the lead U.S. climate negotiator during the Obama administration, said in a 2021 interview, referring to the annual U.N. climate summits called Conference of the Parties.

Xie’s first meeting with Kerry as head of the Chinese delegation, at the Bali COP in 2007, was a fiery standoff, said Qian Guoqiang, a Chinese climate diplomat in attendance. “Xie was sitting down and Kerry opened up the talk in a very tough way,” telling China what to do, Qian said. Xie replied, “‘We aren’t going to talk in this way. You first need to realize you have your problems,’” Qian recalled. “They were like two lions fighting with each other.” Eventually, Kerry moderated his tone, Qian said.

That early meeting shows not only how far the diplomats’ relationship has come since, but also how far the two countries have moved toward consensus on climate action. At the time, there was a divide under the Kyoto Protocol, the prevailing climate agreement, between developed countries and developing countries, with the latter free of any binding obligations. The U.S. and other major countries didn’t support that framework—particularly after China became the world’s largest emitter in 2006. Meanwhile, Xie and other Chinese officials argued that China’s per-capita emissions remained much lower than those of developed countries—the largest historical emitters—which still hadn’t met their climate promises. The argument came to a head at the 2009 COP in Copenhagen, which was supposed to produce a new global climate framework but failed to yield consensus.

In those years, Xie was known to publicly air his frustration with developed countries. At the 2011 COP in Durban, South Africa, he gave a widely broadcast speech in the final hours of the negotiations. “You’ve talked for 20 years, but you haven’t honored your commitments,” Xie said, pounding his fist. “We’ve done what we should do, but you haven’t. What qualifications do you have to lecture us?” The hall of delegates erupted in applause.

“He’s a canny negotiator,” said Jonathan Pershing, a former lead U.S. climate diplomat in the Obama and Biden administrations. “He uses a combination of charm—he’s completely charming—and bluster.”

As another former senior Obama-era climate negotiator described Xie, “He’ll pound his fist on the table, and then give you a hug. But part of the reason that works is because I think nobody ever questions … [whether] he’s genuinely committed.”

Despite the fireworks, the U.S. and China started to move toward one another behind the scenes. Stern told Foreign Policy that after Copenhagen, China “wanted to find a way forward in general, but also in particular with the United States.”

China saw that climate action could be in its interest, allowing it to develop competitive green industries and reduce air pollution. “If you talked to Xie at that point, what you got from him was we’re doing climate, but we’re doing it on the back of these other issues,” Pershing said.

In order to bridge their countries’ differences, Stern and Xie also set about building their relationship. Stern and other leading U.S. climate diplomats traveled to Xie’s hometown, Tianjin, for climate meetings and rode the shiny, new high-speed rail there at their host’s invitation. Back in the U.S., Stern gave Xie the full American hot-dog-and-cracker-jacks experience at a Chicago Cubs game. “I sort of liked him right away,” Stern said. “I mean, he’s a very colorful guy.”

While Stern led the U.S. negotiations in those years, he credits Kerry for driving the process forward as secretary of state. According to his autobiography, Kerry made it his personal mission to help forge a new climate deal. He knew “the essential first step was finding a way to cooperate with China.” Kerry had witnessed the acrimony at Copenhagen and talked with Xie frequently in the following years. “We met in China, in the United States, at conferences around the world, all of which steadily built a trusting, personal relationship,” Kerry wrote.

Through this flurry of personal diplomacy, a major breakthrough came in 2014. The U.S. and China put forward new national emissions targets together, and in doing so, paved the way for the Paris Agreement, which all the COP countries agreed to the following year. Recalling the moment Obama announced the bilateral deal with Xi in the Great Hall of the People, Kerry wrote, “I finally felt we had reached a moment of turning. … In Beijing, there was a real sense of possibility.”

That U.S.-China climate consensus turned out to be short-lived, of course. Donald Trump soon pulled the U.S. out of the freshly inked agreement. But China stayed in the pact and went on to set a new goal on its own terms. In 2020, before the United Nations General Assembly, Xi announced that China would strive to be carbon neutral by 2060—a boost for the world’s climate hopes.

The pledge took the world by surprise, but Xie had been lobbying for it for years. He had taken a post as president of Tsinghua’s new climate institute; there he coordinated dozens of think tanks to model China’s pathways to carbon neutrality. Xie presented the results of that research to China’s highest-level policymakers ahead of Xi’s announcement, according to Zou Ji, president of Energy Foundation China, which funded the research. “I would say Minister Xie played a very important role to push—to facilitate—that process; otherwise, I saw no one else pushing that at such a high level.”

Joe Biden’s election and decision to rejoin the Paris Agreement revived hope—as well as questions about U.S.-China climate cooperation. Could the two countries pick back up where they had left off? And if so, what would successful U.S. climate diplomacy look like now that the two countries had set their respective targets?

Both presidents knew who to turn to for answers. Biden appointed Kerry the first U.S. special presidential envoy for climate. Subsequently, Xie, who had left government for Tsinghua, was brought back as a special envoy on the Chinese side. “The two of them were absolutely the best choices for their two governments to be the climate envoys in this difficult period,” said John Holdren, a professor at the Harvard Kennedy School who served as Obama’s top science advisor.

The old lions returned to a harsher political landscape. The Biden administration sought areas of cooperation but maintained a tough-on-China stance. China, in turn, didn’t accept the U.S. framework of overall “competition” between the two countries. Temperatures flared at the first bilateral meeting in Anchorage, Alaska.

Nonetheless, both sides seemed to agree that climate cooperation was in their best interest. A month after the Anchorage meeting, Kerry became the first Biden official to visit China. Later in 2021, after meeting 30 times, the two envoys reached a breakthrough during the Glasgow COP. In a joint declaration, they made some important new contributions: China had previously pledged to start decreasing its coal use in the 15th five-year plan period (2026-2030)—at Glasgow it agreed it would make “best efforts” to decrease its coal use earlier; both countries would work together to reduce potent, short-lived methane emissions this decade; and China would publish its own methane action plan.

That deal reflected some of the limits of China’s cooperation. For instance, China agreed to the softer methane language with the U.S. after declining to sign on to an international pledge to cut methane emissions 30 percent by 2030. “I always have the sense that [Xie’s] caught … between officially representing the interests of his country as defined by a system that’s bigger than him. … But also, within that context, genuinely pushing for positive progress with the belief that engagement and cooperation and joint leadership works,” said the former Obama-era U.S. negotiator.

Pershing, who was the no. 2 climate diplomat in Biden’s first year, credited Kerry for moving the conversation forward. “He’s indefatigable—the guy doesn’t seem to need to sleep very much. … I go to meetings, and around three o’clock in the morning, I’m going, ‘I think we’re not getting anywhere.’ And John is still out there continuing to say, ‘No, no, we can fix this. We can make this happen,’ and my experience is that he’s actually right.”

The nascent era of climate cooperation wasn’t insulated fully from the broader tensions, though. In August 2022, after then-House Speaker Nancy Pelosi visited Taiwan, Chinese officials cut off cooperation across the board, including on climate change.

As diplomats in the U.S. tried to repair the bilateral relationship, Kerry and Xie quietly went back to work. After meeting frequently over the past year, and following their meeting in southern California last month, the envoys published the Sunnylands Statement, the longest and, in Stern’s opinion, strongest statement yet. China, for the first time, agreed to include all sectors of the economy and all greenhouse gases in its next Paris targets, due in 2025. Another critical, albeit wordy, goal on China’s side was to achieve “post-peaking meaningful absolute power sector emission reduction” in the 2020s—a significant goal because it “indicates [China’s] growing confidence in early peaking,” Li wrote. Both sides also supported the international goal to triple renewable energy capacity by 2030.

The Sunnylands Statement is also notable for what it was lacking—for one, any clear commitment from China to stop building coal plants. Republicans have criticized Kerry for being soft on China and not forcing the country to take more aggressive measures in line with U.S. climate targets.

The reality is that the U.S. has a limited ability to push China these days. In July, right as Kerry was visiting Beijing for talks with Xie, Xi said that China was committed to its climate goals, but the pathway and pace for meeting them “should be and must be determined by ourselves, and never under the sway of others.”

Climate experts acknowledged that the declaration is far from perfect, but they said it is significant, nonetheless. Referring to China’s commitment to establish an all-encompassing set of targets in 2025, Pershing said, “That’s a big thing. It doesn’t read like a big thing because we assumed that that would be true. But don’t assume. It’s not trivial. Making these statements alters the domestic action.”

Experts also said these statements have teed up progress in international climate talks. According to Pershing, unless the U.S. and China collaborate effectively ahead of negotiations, “the system kind of grinds, and maybe doesn’t move.” China also helps push forward recalcitrant countries, he added. “If you get China, which is a big partner for many places, you can move the rest of the world.”

At a press conference last month on the eve of COP28, Kerry echoed his sentiment, stating, “Without China and the United States aggressively moving forward to reduce emissions, we don’t win this battle.”

After the current round of climate negotiations in Dubai wraps up next week, Xie is expected to retire from government. Kerry has also previously discussed retirement, Axios reported, although he hasn’t announced a date.

Liu Zhenmin, who most recently served as undersecretary-general of economic and social affairs at the United Nations, is expected to replace Xie. Climate experts are waiting to see whether Liu’s style and approach will align with Xie’s. Liu notably brings deep experience, having led China’s early U.N. climate negotiations, including the 1997 Kyoto Protocol, in his career with the Ministry of Foreign Affairs.

Despite renewed U.S.-China cooperation, the hardest work lies ahead. In China’s case, this includes actually reducing emissions. By 2025, all countries are expected to set their climate targets for 2035—which for China means determining a pace for emissions reduction for the first time. So far, China has only committed to peaking its emissions before 2030. At COP last week, Xie said China would submit new climate targets for 2030 along with its goals for 2035, signaling that the government may be willing to step up its ambition.

The U.S., meanwhile, has been implementing the Inflation Reduction Act—the most significant climate bill in U.S. history—but it must reduce its emissions at a faster rate to meet its 2030 targets. It has also yet to provide developing countries with the full financial support it has pledged—let alone what experts say is needed.

“What happens in the post-Kerry-Xie era is a huge question mark,” said the former senior U.S. climate diplomat who helped negotiate the Paris Agreement. “I sense that both Kerry and Xie are seriously in legacy-cementing mode,” fighting “as hard as they can to lock in as much progress as they can before they ride into the sunset.”

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onlineclassesfrench · 2 years ago

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french speaking classes near me

french speaking classes near me For over 8 years, Frenchyard has provided online and offline French instruction. We are presently at the Prem Nagar neighbourhood of Ambala. We prepare students for all types of French exams necessary for a high-level profession or PR in any country. Learning a language is commonly perceived as a time-consuming endeavour, so join and see the difference. The most important factor attracting students from all over the world is the availability of career opportunities after studying French. Fluency in French can open doors to new opportunities in a wide range of sectors throughout the world. It will provide you with crucial job-related information and skills, either directly or indirectly, providing you with a competitive advantage and a greater salary. Many people find you more appealing since you speak French. The ability to speak in French is a vital asset while searching for job in a range of industries. Among them are travel and tourism, the hotel industry, MNCs, BPO, KPO, Embassies, fashion, retailing, automotive, luxury items, aeronautics, international trade, educational institutions, and export firms.

#online classes french #french #french learning

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newstfionline · 5 days ago

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Saturday, November 9, 2024

‘Total Nightmare’ as Wildfire Burns Through Southern California Homes (NYT) Firefighters struggled across steep terrain on Thursday to battle a fast-moving fire fueled by fierce winds in the jagged hills northwest of Los Angeles. The flames burned numerous homes, forced more than 10,000 people to evacuate and prompted Gov. Gavin Newsom of California to declare a state of emergency. The blaze, known as the Mountain fire, broke out in Ventura County on Wednesday morning and had grown to more than 20,000 acres. By Thursday evening, the wildfire had destroyed over 130 structures and damaged nearly 90 others, and it was only 5 percent contained, fire officials said.

Mexico appears to abandon its ‘hugs, not bullets’ strategy as bloodshed plagues the country (AP) For the last six years, Mexico bragged about its oft-questioned “hugs, not bullets” strategy, in which its leaders avoided confrontations with drug cartels that were gradually taking control of large parts of the country. The thinking was that social programs, not shootouts, would gradually drain the pool of cartel gunmen. Now, a month into the term of new President Claudia Sheinbaum, a string of bloody confrontations suggests the government is quietly abandoning the “no bullets” part of that strategy and is much more willing to use the full force of the military and the militarized National Guard. “There are traces of a change in tone toward organized crime, but it’s too early to call,” said Falko Ernst, a security analyst. “It seems unlikely that the Sheinbaum administration would risk a politically inconvenient, steady stream of violent imagery by betting on wholesale balazos (bullets)-only strategy,” but there may be more willingness to confront “the most overt and brazen displays of power” by the cartels.

Brazil: Beware of scorpions (AFP) In Brazil, higher temperatures, warming habitats, and increases in urbanization next to previously wild areas have combined for a sharp spike in scorpion stings, with scorpions becoming the most lethal poisonous animal in Brazil. The temperature increase means that scorpion metabolism is way up, which makes them more active and, thus, feistier. Last year, 152 deaths from scorpion stings exceeded the 140 deaths from snakebites in the country, and that’s significantly more scorpion-related fatalities than in 2019, when 95 people died from scorpions. According to the health ministry, there were over 200,000 scorpion sting incidents in Brazil last year, averaging 550 stings per day.

Israeli football fans attacked in Amsterdam, officials say (Foreign Policy) Overnight attacks on Israeli soccer fans in Amsterdam left at least five people hospitalized on Friday. According to the Israeli Embassy in the Netherlands, hundreds of Maccabi Tel Aviv supporters were attacked after Thursday’s match against Ajax Amsterdam, traditionally identified as a Jewish club. “Mobs chanted anti-Israel slogans and proudly shared videos of their violent acts on social media—kicking, beating, even running over Israeli citizens,” the embassy posted on X. Online footage shows some attackers shouting anti-Israeli slurs. Riot police were deployed to escort the Maccabi fans safely back to their hotels, and police detained more than 60 suspects, 10 of whom remain in custody as of this writing. Tensions were already high ahead of the match: Amsterdam police chief Peter Holla confirmed that Maccabi supporters on Wednesday had torn down a Palestinian flag from a building in the city center and set fire to it as well as attacked a taxi, and authorities banned a pro-Palestinian demonstration near the stadium. Online video also showed Maccabi fans chanting racist anti-Arab slurs and anti-Palestinian slogans ahead of the match.

Russians envision new global system with Trump victory (Washington Post) Across the corridors of power in Moscow, the win for Trump’s populist campaign, which argued that America should focus on its domestic woes over aiding countries like Ukraine was, being hailed as a potential victory for Russia’s efforts to carve out its own sphere of influence in the world. In even broader terms, it was seen as a victory for conservative, isolationist forces supported by Russia against a liberal, Western-dominated global order setting the rules for the entire world that the Kremlin (and its allies) have been seeking to undermine. “We have won,” said Alexander Dugin, the Russian ideologue who has long pushed an imperialist agenda for Russia. “…The world will be never ever like before. Globalists have lost their final combat,” he wrote on X.

2 million at risk of starvation in Myanmar state amid ‘total economic collapse’ (Guardian) According to the U.N., 2 million people living in Myanmar’s Rakhine state are at risk of starvation as local conflicts and trade blockades have pushed the region towards “total economic collapse” thanks to an extended conflict between the Arakan Army (an ethnic Rakhine separatist group) and Myanmar’s state military. The two sides have been locked in fighting since late last year, and the state military has imposed strong trade restrictions on the state to starve out the militant group. Some people, according to a U.N. official, have resorted to eating rice bran, which is normally used as animal feed. Monthly incomes in the state have dropped from 66,600 kyat ($31.70) to about 46,620 kyat ($22.21) since last year—with current prices, people are barely able to afford enough rice to eat on that budget, much less pay for housing or any other necessities.

China Reveals $1.4 Trillion Plan to Bail Out Local Governments (NYT) The Chinese government on Friday approved a $1.4 trillion plan to revive the economy, authorizing local governments to refinance crushing debts that have left some cities unable to pay their bills. The move caps a series of steps that China’s leaders started rolling out in September to stimulate growth. China’s economy has struggled to regain momentum this year. The grinding collapse of the real estate market, where most Chinese households build their wealth, has depressed prices and left consumers reluctant to spend. Home prices have fallen about 10 percent a year for the past three years, and foreclosures are soaring. At the same time, local governments have piled up unsustainable levels of debt. For years, they drove growth by borrowing enormous sums to pay for infrastructure projects. Then they took on even more of debt during the Covid-19 pandemic.

Typhoon floods villages, rips off roofs and damages 2 domestic airports in northern Philippines (AP) Typhoon Yinxing battered the northern Philippines with floods and landslides before blowing away from the country on Friday, leaving two airports damaged and aggravating a calamity caused by back-to-back storms that hit in recent weeks. The typhoon flooded villages, toppled trees and electricity poles, and damaged houses and buildings in Cagayan province, where Yinxing made landfall Thursday afternoon. There were no immediate reports of casualties from Yinxing, the 13th major storm to hit the disaster-prone Southeast Asian archipelago this year.

Trump to Renew ‘Maximum Pressure’ Campaign Against Iran (WSJ) President-elect Donald Trump plans to drastically increase sanctions on Iran and throttle its oil sales as part of an aggressive strategy to undercut Tehran’s support of violent Mideast proxies and its nuclear program, according to people briefed on his early plans. Trump took a dim view of Iran during his first term, aborting a six-nation agreement with Tehran—known as the Joint Comprehensive Plan of Action—that sought to curb Iran’s nuclear weapons work. He also imposed what was described as a “maximum pressure” strategy in hopes Iran would abandon ambitions for a nuclear weapon, stop funding and training what the U.S. considers terrorist groups and improve its human-rights record. But when he takes office on Jan. 20, Trump’s approach to Iran is likely to be colored by the knowledge that its agents tried to assassinate him and former top national security aides after they left office, former Trump officials said. Iran is believed to be seeking revenge for a 2020 U.S. drone strike that killed Qassem Soleimani, head of Iran’s covert paramilitary operations. The people briefed on Trump’s plans and in touch with his top advisers said the new team would move rapidly to try to choke off Iran’s oil income, including going after foreign ports and traders who handle Iranian oil.

In Trump victory, Netanyahu sees himself as ‘the great winner’ (Washington Post) Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu rejoiced over Donald Trump’s election victory, as he banked on resetting relations with Washington and following through on his maximalist aims in the country’s multifront war. Netanyahu congratulated Trump on “history’s greatest comeback” in a post on X Wednesday morning as the results became clear, but before many had made a final call, hailing his return to the White House as “a new beginning for America and a powerful recommitment to the great alliance” between the U.S. and Israel. “It’s time for total victory,” crowed Itamar Ben Gvir, Netanyahu’s far-right national security minister, in an address to the Knesset on Wednesday, adding that he was confident Trump would see “eye to eye” with Israel on “all sorts of laws” that he has been trying to push through, including the death penalty for Palestinians convicted of terrorism. Israel Ganz, head of a council representing Israeli settlers across the occupied West Bank, celebrated the moment as a historic “opportunity for the settlement movement,” which has already made significant gains since Netanyahu returned to power in 2022.

Nearly 70% of verified Gaza war dead women and children, UN rights office says (Reuters) The U.N. Human Rights Office said on Friday nearly 70% of the fatalities it has verified in the Gaza war were women and children, and condemned what it called a systematic violation of the fundamental principles of international humanitarian law. The youngest victim whose death was verified by U.N. monitors was a one-day-old boy, and the oldest was a 97-year-old woman, the report said. Overall, children represented 44% of the victims, with children aged five-nine representing the single biggest age category.

Nigeria’s major cities suffer blackouts as the power grid collapses yet again (AP) Nigeria’s major cities including Abuja, Lagos and Kano suffered blackouts Thursday as the country’s electricity grid collapsed in the tenth such outage to hit the power system this year. Africa’s most populous country has the potential to generate 13,000 megawatts, but can only transmit 4,000 megawatts due to weak infrastructure, the transmission company said last year. That amount is not enough for a population of more than 200 million people. Apart from weak infrastructure, armed groups have also sabotaged power supplies. Last month, the northern part of the country was without power for more than seven days after insurgents vandalized transmission lines.

A Bad Day at Work (NYT) A caretaker entered an enclosure at a research center in South Carolina on Wednesday, cleaning the space and feeding the 50 rhesus monkeys inside. But on leaving, she failed to latch the double doors behind her. Forty-three monkeys saw a rare chance at freedom and took it, racing out of the enclosure. “It’s kind of like follow-the-leader—one goes out and there’s, like, a mad dash,” said Greg Westergaard, the chief executive of Alpha Genesis, which runs the research center. Now officials in the surrounding town of Yemassee, roughly 60 miles west of Charleston, are urging residents to close their doors and windows, and to avoid interacting with the animals. For the most part, nearby residents have been unfazed by the loose monkeys, said David Paul Murray, a town council member. It seems to happen a lot: 26 primates escaped from the facility in 2014, then there was another breakout of 19 in 2016, and then it was fined in 2018 related to escape of “dozens of primates.” “We’re not strangers to seeing monkeys randomly,” Murray said. “It’s something you don’t really think about until one runs across the road and you’re like, wait, what?”

#headlines #news

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artdecco531 · 9 days ago

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Planning the Perfect Thailand Trip from Kerala: A Complete Guide

Thailand, sometimes known as the "Land of Smiles," is a popular tourism destination. With its stunning beaches, rich culture, vibrant nightlife, and delicious cuisine, it’s no wonder that tourists from Kerala are eager to explore this Southeast Asian gem. If you're planning a Thailand trip from Kerala, this complete guide will help you navigate through every step of your journey, from planning to packing.

1. Best Time to Visit Thailand

Think about the ideal time of year to visit Thailand when organizing your vacation. November through February are the best months because of the colder, less humid weather. Expect bigger crowds because this is also the busiest time of year for tourists. If you're looking for fewer tourists and better deals, consider traveling during the shoulder seasons (March to May and September to October), but be prepared for the heat and occasional rain.

2. Choosing Your Destinations

Thailand offers a wide array of attractions, and your choice will depend on your interests. Here are some well-liked locations to think about:

Bangkok: The energetic capital is renowned for its lively streets, elaborate temples, and busy marketplaces. Don't miss the Grand Palace, Wat Pho, and the Chatuchak Weekend Market.

Phuket: well-known for its breathtaking beaches, vibrant nightlife, and water sports. Patong Beach is the most popular, but explore other beautiful beaches like Kata and Karon for a quieter experience.

Chiang Mai: Nestled in the mountains, this city is known for its temples, night bazaars, and lush landscapes. The Yi Peng Lantern Festival in November is a spectacular sight.

Krabi: Known for its breathtaking limestone cliffs, clear waters, and islands like Koh Phi Phi. Ideal for those looking to relax and enjoy water sports.

Pattaya: A lively beach resort town known for its nightlife, water sports, and the Sanctuary of Truth.

3. Traveling from Kerala to Thailand

Flights

Direct flights from Kerala (Cochin International Airport) to Thailand (Bangkok or Phuket) are available. This route is flown by major airlines such as Thai Airways, Indigo, and Air India. To get the cheapest prices, get your tickets in advance.

Visa Requirements

Indian citizens traveling to Thailand for tourism can apply for a visa on arrival for stays up to 15 days. However, it is advisable to check the latest visa regulations and requirements as they can change. As an alternative, you might apply to the Thai embassy in India for a tourist visa.

4. Accommodation Options

Thailand provides a variety of lodging choices to fit every price range:

Luxury Hotels: Chains like Marriott, Hilton, and Shangri-La offer top-notch services.

Mid-range Hotels: Look for boutique hotels or serviced apartments for a comfortable stay at a reasonable price.

Budget Accommodation: Hostels and guesthouses are available in major tourist areas, providing affordable options for backpackers.

Booking Tips

To locate appropriate lodging, use websites like Booking.com or Airbnb. Consider staying near public transport for easy access to attractions.

5. Getting Around Thailand

Public Transport: Thailand has an extensive public transport system. Use the BTS Skytrain and MRT in Bangkok for quick travel. Tuk-tuks and taxis are also widely available but negotiate fares beforehand.

Domestic Flights: For traveling between major cities like Bangkok, Chiang Mai, and Phuket, consider domestic flights as they save time.

Buses and Trains: For budget travel, buses and trains offer a great way to explore the country and experience local culture.

6. What to Eat

Thai cuisine is a highlight of any trip. Must-try dishes include:

Pad Thai: Stir-fried noodles with vegetables, meat, and peanuts.

Tom Yum Goong: A spicy shrimp soup.

Green Curry: A flavorful coconut milk-based curry with meat and vegetables.

Mango Sticky Rice: This delectable treat combines sticky rice with luscious mango.

Food Safety Tips

While street food is a big part of the experience, ensure that food is freshly cooked and that you eat at busy stalls for better hygiene.

7. Things to Do

Cultural Experiences

Temple Visits: Respect local customs when visiting temples, such as dressing modestly.

Thai Massage: Experience traditional Thai massage at a reputable spa for relaxation.

Adventure Activities

Island Hopping: Explore the stunning islands of Thailand through day trips or overnight tours.

Water Sports: Try snorkeling, scuba diving, or parasailing in popular beach areas.

8. Packing Essentials

Clothes: Because of the tropical climate, light, breathable clothing is recommended. Remember to pack beachwear and swimwear!

Travel Essentials: Bring sunscreen, a hat, insect repellent, and a good pair of walking shoes.

paperwork: Make sure you have copies of all of your key paperwork, your passport, your visa, and travel insurance.

9. Travel Tips

native Currency: The native currency is the Thai Baht (THB). Make cash withdrawals from ATMs or exchange money at approved locations.

Language: Although English is generally understood in tourist areas, Thai is the official language.

Remain Connected: To stay connected, think about purchasing a local SIM card or utilizing international roaming.

Planning the perfect Thailand trip from Kerala involves careful consideration of your itinerary, budget, and travel preferences. With its breathtaking scenery, rich culture, and delicious cuisine, Thailand promises an unforgettable experience. By following this complete guide, you’ll be well on your way to creating wonderful memories in this beautiful country. Prepare for a once-in-a-lifetime experience in Thailand by packing your baggage!

#Thailand trip from Kerala #Thailand tour package from kerala #Thailand packages from Kerala #Thailand trip package from Kerala #Thailand tour packages from Cochin

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fikri-46 · 14 days ago

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Norway Visit Visa Guide: Everything You Need to Know for a Hassle-Free Trip

Based on the above information, getting a Norway visit visa might seem hard, but it’s not as difficult as it seems. If you have all the key documents and want to arrange your application in advance, read through the steps described in this guide. Norway is one of the most naturally endowed countries in the world, featuring fjords and vibrant cities. To enjoy your time there, all you need is the visa.

The only thing that is left to do, literally, after your Norway visa has been approved is to begin to prepare for the trip. Whether watching the northern lights, visiting art galleries and historic sites, or walking the streets of Oslo, Norway has many tricks up its sleeve for tourists. Once you arrange everything and make your plans, you’ll be set for a memorable trip filled with beauty.

1. Types of Norway Visas

Understanding the relevant visa type is crucial for an issue-free visit to Norway. The Schengen visa is the most popular for temporary travel, allowing stays of up to 90 consecutive days within 180 days in Norway and all Schengen countries. This visa is perfect for tourists, business, family or friends visits, and conference or event attendance. The advantage of the Schengen Visa is that it allows you to visit several countries in Europe with just one visa, making it ideal for those touring multiple countries.

If your visit is for work, study, or any activity lasting more than 90 days, you must apply for a Long-Stay Visa or D-Visa. This visa is specific to Norway and requires additional documentation based on your visit's purpose. A D-Visa allows you to stay longer for education, work, or family reunification, unlike the 90-day limit of a Schengen visa.

2. Requirements for a Norway Visa Application

Some documents required for a Norway visa include an unexpired passport with at least two blank pages and validity exceeding the intended stay. A completed visa application form is necessary, along with two recent passport-sized photos that meet specific biometric standards. Being well-organized as you prepare these documents is essential. These are the basic documents of your visa application and needed to identify and verify the applicant.

These documents are in addition to the travel documents required to present evidence of the trip's necessity and feasibility. These include travel insurance with adequate medical coverage, a confirmed return flight ticket, and proof of accommodation (hotel bookings or invitation letters from friends or relatives). You may also need to provide a work certificate or proof of income; if self-employed, business documents are necessary. These steps ensure you have a valid reason for visiting and can support yourself during the trip.

3. How to Apply for a Norway Visa: Step-by-Step Process

Before going any further, let us look at the documents needed for your Norway visa application: your passport, completed application form, and other documents, including proof of accommodation and financial status. Having every document in order before applying is crucial to avoid delays or rejection. Travel insurance prerequisites include coverage for emergency medical services and evacuation if necessary.

After your documents are completed, make an appointment with the nearest Norwegian Embassy, Consulate, or Visa Application Centre (VAC). During your visit, fill out a questionnaire on the application form and participate in an interview, where you may be asked questions about your intended trips. You will then need to pay for the visa, with costs varying based on your age and the type of visa you are applying for. The application typically takes about 15 days to process, so it’s wise to apply early in case of any complications near your travel date.

4. Advice on Norway Visa Application

It is important to be keen when applying for a visa to ensure you are issued the right one. Make sure all required information is included and accurate before submitting your documents. A common mistake is submitting an incomplete application; ensure your passport copies, photographs, and travel insurance documents are in order. Being thorough will save time and improve your chances of getting approval.

Moreover, a well-developed and described plan of your trip may help you strengthen your application in many ways. Ensure that you offer a full schedule with flight information and confirmation of accommodation. This shows that you have taken your time in planning your visit and that you actually have a formal plan. This part is very important: one must not lie about the purpose of traveling, as it can lead to visa rejection or a ban from future applications. It is recommended to apply at least 4-6 weeks before the planned trip to cover processing time and possible additional delays.

5. Things to Do After You Have Been Offered a Norway Visa

After getting your Norway visa, verify the information to ensure accuracy. Check that your name, travel dates, and visa type are correct on the sticker. Any mistakes should be corrected promptly with the issuing authority. Review the terms of your visa, including the duration of your stay and any other Schengen countries you can visit if you plan to travel beyond Norway.

When traveling, make sure you have all necessary documents, especially proof of accommodation, return tickets, and travel insurance. Norwegian immigration authorities may ask for these upon arrival, so keep them handy in case of any issues at the border. Once you set your visa and other travel essentials, you’ll be ready to explore Norway’s beautiful scenery and cultural attractions.

6. Why Norway Visa Application May Be Rejected

The main cause of visa refusal is often due to improper or missing documents that required for the visa application. As little as one required document, or a wrong entry, can lead to application rejection or delays. To ensure you produce all relevant documents before submission, strictly adhere to the instructions from the Norwegian Embassy or Consulate. All documents must be authentic and up to date to minimize challenges during the application process.

The second major reason for visa refusal is lack of funds, which is a common cause of visa denials. You must demonstrate that you can fend for yourself economically while in Norway. This typically requires providing proof of financial means, such as bank statements or financial documents. Without such evidence, authorities may fear you cannot support yourself or might overstay your visa. It’s crucial to show you have sufficient funds to cover your travel and stay, especially for extended trips.

Conclusion:

Securing your Norway visit visa is crucial for preparing your trip to this beautiful Scandinavian country. Understanding the types of visas, collecting the required documents, and following the application process will help ensure successful visa approval. Whether you’re planning a weekend getaway to enjoy Norway's sights and scenery, a business trip, or studying, useful tips can enhance your journey.

Now that you have your Norway visit visa, you can think about how best to spend your time there. It’s the ultimate travel destination, offering everything from the fabulous northern lights to cultural and city tours. With your itinerary set and all necessary papers prepared, your trip to Norway will be unforgettable. Safe travels!

Also Check Out: Jordan Visa

#best #travel #visa

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shinynewboots · 5 months ago

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Staring at the Sun / Adam x Lute Chapter 9

Summary: After the battle, Lute attempts to flee with Adam. They find themselves unable to return to Heaven and must adjust to life in Hell.

AN: Lol buckle up. Spoilers and real AN at the bottom.

Warnings: 18+, Violence, gore, smut eventually, Adam-typical misogyny, alcohol use, slight sexual themes, religious imagery

Chapter 8

Chapter 10

“Ch-Charlie, I think you need to check the news,” Angel stuttered as he scrolled his Sinstagram app. Almost every story and post showed Adam flying over Pentagram City. He showed the feed to Charlie, who scrolled through and frowned.

OMG IS THE EXTERMINATION HAPPENING RN??? #imtoohottodie

WTF is that an angel? #amihigh

Hey why is that angel actually kinda hot tho #idtapthat

“Are you fucking kidding me,” She groaned and ran to the television set and turned it on. The screen showed Breaking News on the 666 channel. The footage showed Adam flying swiftly towards the center of the city, Lute cradled in his arms.

“This is Katie Killjoy with Breaking News. The Exorcist leader, Adam, who was presumed dead after the humiliating defeat by a one-eyed housemaid has been spotted heading toward the center of the city and presumably to our imminent doom. And I have to be stuck with Tom over as a companion for this impromptu Extermination Day.”

“Fuck you, Katie.”

“In your dreams, Tom. Now, back to the weather.”

“Fuck!” Charlie groaned. “When did they even leave?”

“Oh, about an hour or so ago,” Alastor said, stepping out from the shadows. Vaggie looked over with narrowed eyes.

“And how would you know?”

“Oh, silly me. I had my shadow follow them to keep tabs on them,” Alastor said, picking at his claws.

“You knew they had been gone for a fucking hour and didn’t say anything?” Vaggie growled, pointing her finger at Alastor.

Alastor smiled at her, his mouth twitching. He gently pushed her finger down out of his face. “You never asked. They did a nasty job on my shadow too.”

The room darkened around Alastor as he grew in size, his antlers doubling. Neon green light emitted from around him and the rest of the hotel guests looked in unease at the Radio Demon. “Someone will have to pay for that.”

“Not now, Alastor! Angel can you find the Egg Bois and see if they know anything,” Charlie said, her eyes growing red. Charlie felt her phone vibrate in her hand and she looked down to check the caller ID: Dad.

“Hey Dad, you haven’t happened to see the news, have you?”

___

Adam continued to fly over Pentagram City, his wings stretching out in a way that they had not been able to in months. This was the first time he had truly felt free during his time in Hell; more like his old self. Lute wriggled in his arms as she came out of the fog that she had been under thanks to the shadow.

The next time he saw the fucking Radio Demon, that fucker would die an even more gruesome second death.

They were gaining fast on the Embassy, its golden light shining like a beacon to its unworthy citizens. On the streets, Adam could hear the screams and cries of the sinners who looked upon him with fear and awe (as they fucking should). A buzzing flew up near Adam and he looked over his shoulder to see a drone flying rapidly towards them, a camera attached to it.

“Adam, Channel 666 news here! Care to give a statement?” A voice said from the drone, another camera popping out and coming closer to his face. Adam growled and shifted Lute in his arms, determined to blow the camera into next week but was too late. A gunshot fired out and the drone and camera began hurdling back down to the ground.

“What the fuck,” He exclaimed and looked down at Lute, who held a smoking pistol in her hands and had a weak smirk on her face. “Nice shot, bitch.”

God, she was so fucking small in his arms. Fuck that Radio Demon. This had to all mean something. He had to get them back to Heaven. He had to get Her back to Heaven. Fuck, she didn’t belong here. And if it hadn't been for him, she would never have had to suffer here. She never would have lost a piece of herself (even if the metal arm was badass). She was meant to live out her days of eternity in Heaven, training with her sisters and soaking in paradise.

Not saving a fucking Human soul that didn’t know when to keep its mouth shut.

The Embassy was only a few hundred feet away. Down below, Adam could see Sinners gathered in masses around the entrance, looking at him in awe. Some held phones and took footage of him, while others just stood and watched. Others still shot up at him with various guns, but the ammo (not angelic steel), whizzed past and died back to the ground.

Adam made the executive decision to land on the roof of the Embassy. His feet hit the ground much harder than he anticipated as felt the jarring difference between floating and walking. He looked down to Lute in his arms, who was looking much better and trying to wriggle free from his grip, likely frustrated that she felt helpless.

Adam was taken back to an earth movie he had seen decades ago, of a horrible monster scaling a tall, iconic building with a beautiful girl in its arms.

“Adam, I can walk. I’m good now,” Lute said. Adam nodded and released her, his arms missing the weight of her in them. He looked around the roof, trying to find an entrance.

“You’re telling me there’s no goddamn doors in this place?” He exclaimed, his speech rushed and on edge. Lute began to look as well, her movements slower than usual. She still felt weak from her brush with the shadow.

“I don’t see any,” She yelled over. Adam looked at her like a madman, desperate and rigid.

“Fuck,” He said, his breath quickening and sweat forming on his brow. “Wait, I’m a fucking angel.”

“Adam what—” Lute exclaimed before she was cut off by a shock of angelic light shooting from Adam’s hands aimed for the center of the roof. The light shot right through, leaving a gaping hole that led to the infamous board room where everything began to go wrong.

Adam laughed, a triumphant, if not mad, laugh, with his head cocked back and his eyes towards the sky, as if to mock Heaven.

___

Lucifer was not having a good day.

After receiving a call from his brother about a certain First Man making a spectacle and causing a commotion in Heaven and Hell, Lucifer knew he had to go and put on his big king pants and get to the bottom of the so-called commotion.

(Seriously, why did Charlie ask him to save that asshole again. Oh yeah, redemption. Bleh.)

So Lucifer called his daughter (“Hey Dad, you haven’t happened to see the news, have you?” A pause and a sigh. “No Charlie, rots the brain. But I did get a call from Heaven about an angel sanctuary project gone wrong.”) and began his flight to the Heaven’s Embassy.

Lucifer did not get out much. And he especially did not go towards the center of his Kingdom. So to see the chaos brewing in the streets, all chaos caused by Adam, Lucifer couldn’t help but feel nausea brewing in the pit of his stomach. Just perfect.

“Dad!”

Lucifer turned, his wings flapping in the air to hold himself steady, to see Charlie riding on Razzle. Her horns had grown in full force (oh Lilith, if only you could see her now) and her eyes were red with fire.

“Charlie! What are you doing here?”

“This is all my fault. I didn’t even think they would do something like this. I mean, I thought they were happy at the hotel and everything was going great. I didn’t think they were trying to make the 6 o’clock news!”

“You didn’t think they would try to escape?” Lucifer asked, exasperated.

“Well, I mean they weren’t exactly prisoners, Dad.”

“And you were okay with them doing this?” Lucifer replied, gesturing wildly around him with his hands.

“Well no,” Charlie said sheepishly. “But I trusted them. I mean, I still do. I think they just want to go home, Dad.”

Home. Well, Lucifer could understand that. So he sighed and gave Charlie a strained but encouraging smile. “Come on, let’s go clean up this mess.”

___

“SOMEONE BETTER FUCKING ANSWER ME! ITS FUCKING ADAM YOU CUNTS, YOU ABANDONED US DOWN HERE”

Lute wanted to rage and fight and scream with Adam, but for one of the first times in her eternal life, she knew she had to keep her cool. One of them had to. Dread clutched her heart as the reality of her deepest fear seemed close at hand: no one was coming for them.

“They have to answer us, Lute,” He said, his voice cracking. Sweat dripped down his face and his t-shirt was drenched. Light flew from his fingertips as he blasted holes around the room, for good measure.

The room was a disaster, as Adam had thrown every piece of furniture not nailed down to the floor. The table was flipped over. The chairs were scattered across the room. Holes dotted the walls, letting the hellish red sun stream its light in. He had screamed and raged and destroyed all for just a minute of Heaven’s time.

“They will, Adam.” Lute said, placing a hand on his shoulder. He looked down at it and paused.

“You have to go back to Heaven. They have to let you back into Heaven,” He whispered. His shoulder was hot under her touch, as though he spiked a fever.

“We. We have to go back to Heaven,” She repeated, confused in her tone. Adam looked at her as though he were looking through her.

“Yeah, that's what I said.” His breathing was heavy and he looked as though he was thousands of miles away from her.

A flash of light engulfed the room and the pair came face to face with Sera, her stature intimidating and her mouth set in a grim line.

“Adam! Lute! What is the meaning of all this?”

Adam grew, his wings fully extended and his eyes ablaze. His canines were sharp and he looked as though he could kill. “No, what’s the fucking meaning of this, Sera? Leaving us down like fucking sinners.”

“We didn’t know the two of you were still alive. We didn’t think you survived the fall.” Sera said, her voice clipped as she kept her gaze on Adam. Lute watched in horror at the sight, feeling powerless to stop building tension.

“Bullshit.”

“Adam.”

“No Sera, you mean to tell me that the leader and lieutenant of the fucking Exorcists goes MIA, presumed missing and you didn’t send someone down here check. Or fucking call Lucifer.”

“Someone say my name?”

All three heads turned to see Lucifer flying in through the gaping hole in the roof, Charlie in his arms in a way reminiscent of Extermination Day. Lucifer landed and Charlie jumped to the ground.

“Speak of the Fucking Devil.” Adam scoffed, his eyes shooting daggers at Lucifer. Lucifer’s horns blazed with fire.

“Sera.”

“Lucifer.”

“What in the fuck are you two doing here?” Adam growled. His piercing gaze shot back and forth between the Morningstars and Sera.

“Don’t know if you’ve noticed, but you’ve riled up the entire city. Literally fucking mobs down there. I’m here to clean up your mess. It’s becoming a bit of a habit, don’t you think?” Lucifer said smugly, strutting towards Adam and Sera, his arms crossed. The Dragon Beast Charlie rode in on howled into the open sky on the roof.

Adam glared and opened his mouth but was interrupted by Sera. “Lucifer, your presence is not required.”

“No, Sera, as long as you’re in my territory, I’m staying right here.” Lucifer said, the horns growing from his head and eyes turning red. He turned to Charlie who gave him a stiff nod and enthusiastic thumbs-up.

“Lute,” A small voice whispered behind Lute. Lute turned to see Emily standing behind her, a large grin on her cherubic features. “Oh my goodness, we thought you were dead!”

Lute found herself wrapped in the arms of the smaller seraphim, who squeezed her tight in her arms. While Lute had never felt a particularly close bond to the Seraphim (who she just now realized reminded her very much of Princess Morningstar), she felt relieved at the sight of her.

“No, we’ve been here this whole time,” Lute whispered back, her mouth running dry and her palms becoming clammy. Emily frowned and opened her mouth to speak but was interrupted when Sera caught sight of her.

“Emily, I told you to stay back in Heaven. This matter will be resolved quickly.”

“Well, you didn’t exactly tell me why I needed to stay and I’ve never seen Hell, I figured this would be a good learning opportunity,” Emily replied, waving at the other occupants in the room and completely unaware of the building tension radiating off all parties involved. She looked around and caught eyes with Charlie.

“Charlie?!” Emily squealed and ran towards the Princess, pulling her into an enthusiastic hug, which Charlie reciprocated. “Oh my goodness, It’s so good to see you! Oh, I’ll have to tell Sir Pentious that I saw you today.”

“Wait, what?” Charlie asked, a stunned look on her face.

If Sera could have paled, Adam was positive she would have looked like she had seen a ghost. She stiffened as she watched the interaction between Charlie and Emily, her gaze never leaving the two.

“Pentious. Your friend? The one who got redeemed.”

No one said anything for a few breathless moments. Charlie stared at Emily in bewilderment. Emily stared at Charlie confused, and turned to Sera for clarification. Sera’s face, however, was made of stone and offered no secrets or explanations.

“Sir Pentious got redeemed? Oh my god, that’s so amazing. That means…the hotel works! Dad, the hotel works!” Charlie exclaimed, joy and rainbows and butterflies and all that ooey gooey stuff radiating off of her. She smiled at Lucifer, though her smile faltered when she saw the grave look on his face.

“It’s been months since Sir Peanut died in the battle,” Lucifer said, giving Sera a pointed look. Sera raised her head as if to stick her nose up at the insinuation.

“We are not here to discuss that. Emily, go home, we will talk about this further.” Sera’s voice was cold, colder than Adam had ever heard her use with Emily (Emily the golden child, Emily the new seraphim, Emily the baby blah blah blah). “The matter at hand is Adam and Lute having Fallen.”

Lute sucked in a gasp. Her heart shattered in her chest.

“FUCKING FALLEN!” Adam raged, hurtling towards Sera with blind fury, his wings making large gusts of wind behind him. “You fucking cunt, after every fucking thing I’ve done for you, for fucking Heaven. After everything Lute has done to serve as an Exorcist.”

“Adam, this shouldn’t come as a shock,” Sera replied, her voice even.

“Adam, this shouldn’t come as a shock,” He mimicked back, his voice high-pitched and mocking.“Well, it fucking does. I mean I had my fucking suspicions. Why did it take me so fucking long to heal from some goddamn stab wounds? Why didn’t Lute’s arm regenerate? I thought ‘shit, maybe it's because we’re in fucking hell of course things would be a little different’. But fucking fallen, Sera. Are you fucking kidding me?”

Lute felt as though all the air had been sucked from her lungs. She could only stare at the trainwreck in front of her, unable to get out of the way and hoping the train would crush her instead. Fallen. Broken. Dirty. Weak.

“Adam, please, calm down.”

“Calm down? Calm down! You fucking cunt I have given both my lives to heaven, human and eternal and you shut me out just like that? Like fucking sinner scum?”

“Adam, no one shut you out. You were unworthy to ascend back to Heaven. That’s all there is to it. You fell and you are the only one to blame.”

“Yeah, and what the fuck did Lute do to deserve this fate?” He snarled, like a rabid dog with its corned prey.

“She followed her leader. A wrong choice, apparently.”

Adam paused and began to sway unsteadily on his feet. He swayed backward a few steps. Lute rushed forward to catch that fall that did not happen. Instead, Adam began to steady himself. He shook with pure rage, hate and fire emitting off of him that Lute had never known. Sera backed up a few paces, shielding Emily behind her.

Adam let out the most heart-wrenching scream Lute had ever heard. It was so deafening that she could not bear to listen longer and so she clapped her hand over her ears but the sound was still overwhelming.

An aura of blinding white light began to engulf Adam, beginning at his core and spreading across his skin like the roots of a tree until his entire body was encased in the light. There was no way to tell where the light stopped and Adam started; they were one and the same. Power radiated around Adam, the likes of which shook the Embassy and the grounds of Hell below.

He was furious. He was hate. He was sin.

“Adam!” Lute began to scream, though he seemed farther away than she could ever hope to reach.

___

Time stopped for Adam. All the events taking place around him moved in slow motion. He saw Lute paused in mid-scream, his name just on the edge of her lips. He saw Lucifer, trying to usher Charlie away from the scene. He saw Sera and Emily and their holographic images flicker, trying to dissipate into the open air.

And then there was nothing.

And then there was everything.

Adam was suddenly blinded by an awe-inspiring light. He blinked, but his vision was blurred and spotted. The sound of chaos no longer flooded his ears. No. It was the sound of…water? He honed in on it and could hear the unmistakable sound of a babbling brook. The water sounded to be flowing lazily as if the worst thing that had ever happened to Adam was of no care to the water.

A pleasant, warm breeze brushed past Adam’s shoulder and ruffled his hair, his skin, his —. Oh. He was naked.

Adam tried to open his eyes once more to adjust to the warm glow of the light. This time he was met with a sight that brought tears to his eyes.

The garden was lush, just as he had remembered. The wind rustled the leaves in the trees. The brook babbled along, playing a song for all of the garden to hear. The soil was cool beneath his bare feet and he began to dig his toes into the soft carpet. Birds of various types flew around the garden and Adam was immediately able to remember them all by name. Dove. Owl. Eagle. Finch. Rook.

Adam touched his face and realized he was crying. Fat, salty tears streamed down his cheeks and he felt like a child who had run happily into the warm embrace of a mother.

He was home. He was in Eden.

“Adam.”

Adam turned and was met with a formation of light in the shape of a human man. The light began to take shape until it revealed a male angel standing at the same height as Adam himself.

The angel had six brilliant blue wings. His hair was long and shone a golden brown in the sun. He wore the robes and armor in the style of a Byzantine warrior (Adam knew that this was not always his preferred style of dress, but he had adopted it after the various depictions of him in mortal art). Adam had almost forgotten how similar Lucifer looked to his brothers until now.

“Michael?”

“I was wondering when you would join me.” The archangel replied, a smile on his face.

“Am I dead? Again?”

Michael shook his head. “No, no more dead than you already were.”

“Are we in Eden?”

Micheal shrugged. “Of sorts. More of an in-between place, really. I come here when I crave solitude." He paused. "Walk with me.”

Michael guided them to flowing water and Adam looked down and took in his appearance. His facial hair was gone, as were the dark circles under his eyes. His skin was youthful and tanned, almost glowing. His wings were gone, though in his shock he hadn’t noticed. The most jarring difference was the color of his eyes. Instead of the Heavenly golden hue, they were the same color as the warm, dark earth beneath his feet.

He looked just as he had the day he was cast from Eden.

“Why are we here?” Adam asked, looking at Michael.

“I needed to speak with you, uninterrupted.”

Adam scoffed, though he immediately felt shame for the action. “About how you and the rest of Heaven abandoned me to die?”

Michael’s eyes darkened. “Don’t mistake me when I say this Adam, you are special. But, you are nothing more than a human soul. A special human soul, but a human soul nonetheless. A human soul who made a choice.”

“I didn’t choose to stay in Hell.”

“No, but you did choose to indulge in the Exterminations in excess. There was no justification for conducting the Exterminations more than once a year. You chose to engage with Lucifer’s daughter in battle, in spite of the other areas of the Pride Ring you and the Exorcists could have performed the Extermination. That sinner might have attempted to kill you, but your actions are the reason you have fallen.”

Adam wept. He was nothing more than a little boy, hiding behind his mother’s skirts after he knew he had done something wrong.

In his tear-clouded thoughts, he thought of his sons. His first sons.

Oh Cain, my sweet boy who offered up everything to Heaven, only for Heaven to ignore your offerings. To ignore your plea for mercy and forgiveness.

“Oh Adam,” Michael said, his eyes sad. He placed a hand on Adam’s shoulder. “You were the first and for that, you had a tremendous burden on your shoulders, a burden that, in hindsight was unfair.”

“So that’s it?” Adam asked, his mouth dry and full of ash. He pulled away from Michael.“Your regret and my damnation?”

“You have fallen,” Michael said, his tone even. “A fallen human soul. Unprecedented, as the rest of the fallen are heaven-born, but of course you always were a trailblazer.”

Adam glared at Michael, his mind reeling at the information.

“What about Lute?”

“She made her choice the minute she tried to save you and she damned herself to that fate. She is in Hell because she chose to follow you, Adam. She has fallen as well.”

“She didn’t deserve that,” Adam whispered, his voice small as he looked back towards his reflection.

“You more than anyone know that existing is not about getting what we deserve, Adam. It’s about following the path.” Michael said, offering Adam a small smile. “I am truly sorry Adam. There’s nothing I can do for you now. Your path has been set and you are setting course to a place where I and other divine beings cannot follow.”

Adam shook his head. “Just fucking send me back.”

Michael nodded and placed his hand on Adam’s head. Adam felt as though he was being ripped in two; his heart, his soul, his being felt as though they were being expunged from his chest. He was pushed off a precipice and plunged into the frigid waters of eternity.

And once again, Adam was cast out of the Garden of Eden.

___

Lute felt as though she were moving in slow motion. Her hair whipped around her as the heat radiating from Adam hit her full force. Her feet were unsteady beneath her, the sheer force of the power coming off of him almost knocking her to the ground. She watched as Sera and Emily disappeared. She watched as Lucifer tried to usher Charlie out of the building.

The building. The Embassy was swaying dangerously as though there was an earthquake beneath the ground. The building groaned and creaked, unable to hold the weight of the sheer power it was containing.

Her ears rang and she could not keep her eyes off of Adam. She had to stay. She had to help him. She had to do something. She had to—

“Lute!” Charlie said, gripping Lute’s shoulders and trying to pull her away from Adam. Charlie had broken free from her father’s grasp. “We have to go!”

“Adam,” Lute whispered, looking through Charlie like a ghost. The light flowing off of Adam was growing larger, brighter. The heat is more intense by the second.

Lute’s cheek began to sting. She looked at Charlie and realized the Hell Princess had slapped her square across the cheek.

“We have to go, Lute. We can’t help him.” Charlie repeated, her tone firm but kind. Her red eyes had faded and her horns retracted. Lute looked between Adam and Charlie before nodding. Charlie grabbed Lute’s hand and began to pull her towards Lucifer.

“Charlie, sweetie, I don’t mean to rush you and your little friend, but WE NEED TO GET THE FUCK OUT OF HERE,” Lucifer yelled, holding his arms out to take both women. Charlie grabbed on to Lucifer and Lute kept her firm grip on Charlie’s hand.

Lucifer began to fly through the hole that Adam had made in the roof and threw Charlie and Lute onto Razzle.

“Let’s go!” Charlie yelled out to the dragon, who let out a powerful roar. The dragon flew high into the sky, with Lucifer close behind.

It was quiet for a moment.

Until.

A bomb went off.

Hell was suddenly engulfed in the brightest and most brilliant light it had ever seen. The light stretched beyond the confines of the Pride ring and touched every circle of Hell. The Embassy began to collapse, fire and brimstone and light exploded from its walls.

The Pride ring began to crack, with the Embassy as its epicenter and expanding to all corners of the ring, leaving deep gullies in its wake.

The three watched in horror as the building began to collapse into a pile of ash and rubble, crushing all the Sinners who had gathered outside of the Embassy.

The brilliant light began to fade until all that was left of the Embassy and its lone occupant was dust and ash.

Lute began to weep.

AN:

So...that happened. I know you all buckled in fro a fun little Adam and Lute story (as did I, I promise) but somewhere along the way, this story decided to take a life of its own and I for one am here for the ride. This chapter definitely had big season finale vibes if I do say so myself.

Also, any religious anything that's not 100% canon or correct...I am simply making it up as I go and using my suppressed Methodist upbringing as a reference. I truly had no intention of adding any archangels to this story and then I had the image of Adam in Eden and I simply could not help myself.

Do. Not. Worry. Lute and Adam will be together again at some point and I promise when they do it will be a very satisfying reunion. Please bear with me. We are strapping into my longest fic yet (that seems to be getting longer by the chapter lol)

I want to thank everyone for their kind comments, support, and just kindness. Everyone I have met in the process of writing this story has just been so amazing. I love hearing your thoughts, theories, everything! Do bear with me, I want our two favorite idiots to get together as much as anyone so I promise I am also on the edge of my seat for what happens next.

Until later, my sweet friends. I will gladly take your pitchforks and eggs.

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