And I can't think of floorboards anymore.
Dec. 2nd, 2024 10:57 pm
goodbyebird
+ Presents are now wrapped and under the tree, and yesterday we got a giant gingerbread heart to hang up on the wall, decorated by my nephew. Ever so often the scent wafts over to me in the couch, and you get a face full every time you walk in and out of the living room. Ten out of ten.
+ Norway finally vetoed the sea-mining proposals - at least for the next two years - thanks to the party I vote for putting their foot down and refusing to cooperate on the budget if that didn't happen.
+ Bumblebee population increases 116 times over in 'remarkable' Scotland rewilding project.
+ Sapphic Stocking Stuffers and The Fifteenth (2024) and Final Annual Femslash Kink Meme have opened.
+ First crossover rec for the year :D
Killing Eve/Leverage
The Rose City Job by zozo (2226 words).
“Mr. Dillon, I’m Eve Polastri of MI6. This is my associate, Oksana Astankova.”
“A pleasure to meet you both, though these are grim circumstances indeed. And on that topic: this is our head of internal security, Nicholas Courtney.”
Courtney is a compact man, almost stocky, standing between Eve and Villanelle in height. He nods at them politely when his name is mentioned. His unshaven face and messy ponytail say “chill intellectual,” but the way he holds his body, keeps his eyes constantly scanning the room from behind wire-framed glasses—all of that says “ex–Special Forces.”
Next to Eve, Villanelle goes very, very still.
+ Norway finally vetoed the sea-mining proposals - at least for the next two years - thanks to the party I vote for putting their foot down and refusing to cooperate on the budget if that didn't happen.
+ Bumblebee population increases 116 times over in 'remarkable' Scotland rewilding project.
+ Sapphic Stocking Stuffers and The Fifteenth (2024) and Final Annual Femslash Kink Meme have opened.
+ First crossover rec for the year :D
Killing Eve/Leverage
The Rose City Job by zozo (2226 words).
“Mr. Dillon, I’m Eve Polastri of MI6. This is my associate, Oksana Astankova.”
“A pleasure to meet you both, though these are grim circumstances indeed. And on that topic: this is our head of internal security, Nicholas Courtney.”
Courtney is a compact man, almost stocky, standing between Eve and Villanelle in height. He nods at them politely when his name is mentioned. His unshaven face and messy ponytail say “chill intellectual,” but the way he holds his body, keeps his eyes constantly scanning the room from behind wire-framed glasses—all of that says “ex–Special Forces.”
Next to Eve, Villanelle goes very, very still.