#I feel like I will regret this but at the same time I feel freed posting this

[yurinaa-world]

hii, may i send in a request for Blade, Jing Yuan, Aventurine and Sunday with platonic headcanons of them maybe with their child who has a severe illness? Like how would they look after them/attend to them.

Characters: Blade, Jing Yuan, Aventurine & Sunday !Platonic x Gender-neutral Reader

Synopsis: with a reader who has a severe illness + how would they look after you

Warnings: angst to sort of comfort?, spelling mistakes,

notes: I'm sooo jetlagged rn

𝐵𝓁𝒶𝒹𝑒

Death can come in seconds with a person even realizing but you do anything since it’s already too late. It’s the same in the end, you cry, give flowers since regret means more than gratitude ever could; then just leave and never look back.

Does it have to be the same? Not for you. He'll care even when no one else will, he’ll stay and listen to you cry, even if it’s a childish thing like wanting to see the world instead of being stuck in this awful room with wires attached to your body.

He visits when he can–which is when he’s not on missions–when he isn’t he stays with you most of the time, showing up with bags of gifts but what’s the use if you’re paralyzed, too tired to move yet not enough to finally sleep–at least to be free for a couple of hours of pain–So the gifts are open and sit around your room to make the room look alive.

He ends up sitting with you in silence, watching if your heart rate went up or anything that has drastically changed in your health. He holds your hand and wipes your tears since you always cry since you can barely sleep and your eyes are just so tired that you can’t anymore.

The scarce days that you can even sit up in your bed and gaze outside your window while looking at all the gift blades’ gotten you over the several months you’ve been unable to do anything. Yet now you're still weak and the quick recovery will change to worse in a couple of hours.

𝒥𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝒴𝓊𝒶𝓃

He’s sentimental with you, just watching your face contort into pain as a fit of terrible coughs leaves your throat leaving it burning more than before. It was a complete never-ending nightmare for you until you finally were to be freed when you took your final breath of air.

He tries to bring an upbeat attitude to you, listening to you with contempt about whatever you may be talking about, like your dreams, goals, and wishes; maybe a chance to see life outside of this miserable room–yet deep down no one thinks you will.

He loves to bring you sweets–you can’t eat because most of the time you're bedridden–and toys–you can't play with. It's the duty of the general to make sure every citizen is safe and you mean the same to him even if you are sick–and dying.

You’re his child that's all that matters to him. The fake people's pity along with the whispers and disgusting assumptions. He hates it, he hates what they say is the truth–Since in the end, you’re the one dying, right? So what’s wrong with saying what everyone knows is going to happen.

𝒜𝓋𝑒𝓃𝓉𝓊𝓇𝒾𝓃𝑒

Everyone comes to Pencony to have fun and let their dreams become reality yet you’re the pitiful one who must be stuck in your room all day whilst Aventurine is out and about having “fun” you can't help but be a little envious of him,  yet you are love more than anything by and you’ll wait for his return as you’ve always have done.

Watching the lights from below your window along with the sounds of everyone having so much—you cut the sounds out since your body is a rotting corpse lying there.

But it’s not that bad!! Aventurine splurges on you whenever he can and wants!! Even if your room is filled with stuffed animals, util your room can’t handle all the stuffed animals, then he’ll get you a bigger room!! He just wants you to feel included in any way he can. Even playing board games with you, or even it’s patty cake.

Your dream is to be like other people. To be a “normal” kid since dreams will only ever be dreams and never be anything good for the hopeful.

𝒮𝓊𝓃𝒹𝒶𝓎

You’re the child of the great oak family, a prized child even with ruined lungs, hoarse throat and weak rotting body, you’re still his child, the only reason he does the things he does is for your sake.

He always reads you bedtime stories no matter if it is the 100th time reading the same one or the first, your wish is his command. Even if it’s reading you a lullaby no matter how bashful and embarrassed he feels he’ll still do what ask just to see a bright smile on your face.

It’s okay, don’t cry, it's only just a couple of needles. The pain will go away in a second, you can handle it, right? That’s what he always tells you. Comforting you is the most important thing, you’re his everything, watching you cry or whimper at the face, needles, nightmares or anything else then he’ll do anything for you.

if you liked this, consider tipping me on ko-fi! it'd mean a lot!

[partycatty]

Hello :) please could I request love at first sight headcanons for Kenshi, Syzoth, Johnny and Liu Kang 💙💙

ofcccc love

kenshi, syzoth, johnny, liu kang > love at first sight

uh oh, the boys are smitten ;))

notes: you're a monk/trainer/idfk at the wu shi academy, so that's where they meet you for the first time! also pretend syzoth didnt have a wife and kids up until like 30 minutes before u guys meet LMFAOMFOMAF

masterlist <3

♡

kenshi >

kenshi kept mostly to himself, given his motivations for fighting in the tournament in the first place. of course, he'd get into the occasional spitting match with the actor that held his sword hostage as well. but something about you made his work feel unimportant.

he wouldn't make himself known to you for quite some time, but he caught your eye during the introductions when he arrived at the academy. you stood beside liu kang as his second in command, posture perfect and eyes forward. you were a trained individual, and kenshi couldn't help but be fully enamored.

you embodied everything kenshi aspired to be, and he was torn between wishing you two would spend more time together, to wishing you'd kick the shit out of him. maybe both?

"i come requesting for a sparring partner," kenshi explains, eyes transfixed on your perfect form. he had to avert his gaze to the ground as he bowed, lest he fall victim to your beauty. "i was hoping for some advice and feedback."

you agree, considering it's your job. and so, you begin setting up the environment for a spar. the floor is cleared and you roll up your sleeves, taking your personal fighting stance. kenshi almost forgot to ready himself when you charged at him.

you were objectively a better fighter than him, sword or otherwise. his blows were easily parried and his punches were matched with kicks. and sure, he had a crush now, but when you stood over him with your hands on your hips, something stronger blossomed. he felt his face become hot as he laid flat on his back between your legs.

then, he smirked with a newfound confidence. now or never, tattoo.

"perhaps we should spar more often, if this is the outcome," he'd slyly remark.

his comment earned him a week of scrubbing floors, but he doesn't regret it, no matter how hard johnny and lao pointed and laughed. and neither do you.

♡

syzoth >

he fought like hell to get out of outworld, freed from the shackles of shang tsung's imprisonment. when the portal behind everyone closed, syzoth stood awkwardly alongside ashrah behind the earthrealmers.

"meet the newest players of earthrealm," johnny introduces them to liu kang, though he is already familiar with their existence. he created them, after all.

"syzoth, ashrah, please," liu kang gestures for them to follow him. he needed intel on the situation, and fast. something sinister was brewing.

he leads them into a large room decorated with hourglasses and dragon statues. tables with scattered scrolls, maps, and figurines litter the room. this must be liu kang's workspace.

as syzoth enters the spacious room, he is marveled at the intricacy of the designs. what captures his attention quicker, though, was you. you were sitting in a distant chair, standing upon the group's arrival and taking your spot beside liu kang.

"this is my trusted assistant," liu kang introduces you, and you bow to them respectfully. "please inform them of any useful information regarding shang tsung."

syzoth feels as if life slows down, and his cold blood send a shiver down his spine. his face flushes with a greenish tint, and he already finds himself impossibly infatuated with your appearance. you remind him of an ancient statue, how your beauty deserves to be preserved for all to appreciate. but at the same time, he feels a strong desire to keep you to himself.

you sit across from the zaterran, briefly introducing yourself before diving into the questioning. syzoth, however, can't seem to focus on your words, only your plush lips.

"syzoth," you say, trying to regain his attention that is obviously diverted. "tell me how you fell into shang tsung's imprisonment."

syzoth tries so hard to spill the entire timeline, but his words stumble over each other every time he looks up at you. your eyes are so warm, so inviting, so perfect. he's flustered incredibly quickly. it's so obvious that even ashrah playfully rolls her eyes from a distance.

you make him nervous, and that's really cute.

♡

johnny >

johnny walks through the portal with new his fellow chosen ones, taking in the view of the academy. he tunnel visions hard, only focusing on getting adequate information using his phone. that is, until he pans over to the group of monks awaiting his arrival. he stops on you, shamelessly zooming in to get a good view of your face.

"didn't know monks could be so sexy," he'd call out with a smirk, not even putting his phone down for a single second to admire you in person. it's only when kenshi shoves his arm downward that he actually gets a good look at you.

his playboy jokes would die down when he neared you as it was replaced with a warm obsession. you were drop-dead gorgeous. he could score you some roles in movies, you could be the face of perfumes across the globe!

what he felt wasn't like hollywood infatuation. he wanted to know more than what you hid under your robes, which was relatively new to him. he felt the need to grow and change to earn your praise.

he felt little to no shame about this realization. every chance he could, it was an offer to dinner, an offer to visit his sleeping quarters, or him casually dropping he'll be in the secluded hot springs after training, glancing over his shoulder to make sure you heard him.

johnny would make a clear effort to somehow always be in your way, forcing you to interact with him. he'd insist on cleaning your dishes, always be first up for demonstrations, and just so happened to memorize your schedule and "accidentally" bump into you on the gravel paths. it was so abundantly obvious that this man was head over heels, it was kind of embarrassing.

you didn't entertain the actor, honestly. it's not that you didn't like him, it was that he'd A) flirt with a vase if it had nice curves, and B) your duties were more important than a celebrity. or at least, you forced yourself to believe it.

"come on baby, surely you're wondering what kind of punch a hollywood actor packs."

"in your dreams, cage," you'd reply with a smile, knowing damn well you want to take him up on his offer later.

♡

liu kang >

he swore to never get entangled with mortals, not after what happened - or rather, didn't happen - with kitana.

liu kang grows out of this infatuation after eons of busywork and dedicates himself to the stability of the timeline. nothing could distract him from his duties.

that is, until he met the New Era you. you were a relatively insignificant part in his life prior to the timeline reset, so he never paid much attention to you or knew you existed. but, this time around, liu kang took some creative liberties and decided to give you a more significant purpose. what he didn't do was see you before this moment.

he was discussing important matters with geras at the wu shi academy, mind only focused on the importance of the hourglass and the absurdity of recent events revolving a somehow resurrected titan. as he circles the sandy display, he glances through the vision and realizes you, one of the monks, is standing in the doorway with seemingly important knowledge to deliver.

liu kang feels his heart flutter, and he places his hand on his chest in mild surprise. his face remains stoic and expressionless, but it's clear that something winded him. geras glances over at the fire god with a knowing look.

"lord liu kang," you say with a quick bow, and liu kang makes a mental note to himself that he may or may not be into titles. "i come bearing news regarding the chosen ones."

liu kang stands there, his bright eyes totally unreadable. his lips open and close, and his tattoos flicker. he doesn't realize just how long he'd been staring and lost in thought. your beauty reminded him of the universe he painted, so elegant and full of life. he doesn't know how he didn't notice you sooner. to him, you were everything he wanted to be right in the world with your gentle features and kind voice.

geras waves a hand in front of him, making him blink and snap back into reality. he clears his throat.

"yes, yes, please," liu kang suddenly adopts a warm, loving tone, one that's more caring than his usual godly silky voice. his old personality shines through, the charming pretty boy attitude he swore to abandon eons ago. "you may enter, my dear. some tea?"

geras makes the observation that he's sweeter to you than most others, but he's going to keep that to himself. for now, he just watches with mild amusement as liu kang prepares a small cup of matcha for you with a smile that travels into his glowing eyes. he witnessed that look before, when he'd see his kitana. but this was new, this was something that could be beautiful if he let himself try.

[heedmywarnings]

One last time

(Full Chapter)

In which you insult them one last time. (Aka me insulting pixels even tho I'm on Hiatus)

(Written when I was on Hiatus lmfao)

Warning: Cursing, lots of them.

》 - Chapter 2

Masterlist

♤~-~♤

You were finally captured. It took three months to get where you are, standing before you are the Archons who participated in the hunt, and now they will execute you.

"Before you here, is the Impostor that stole our beloved deity's face" Barbatos started, looking down upon the people, "As if you didn't" you said, barely a whisper "Would you like to repeat that, thief?" The Goddess of Justice whispered on your ear as she pulled your hair, "I SAID, AS IF YOU DIDN'T" you repeated, the crowd gasps because they are very very shocked because they gasped.

Also this moon cake im eating doenst taste good.

"What?"

"You were born from the desires of people, meaning if Decarabian wasn't a tyrant then you wouldn't even be born!" The crowd screams defending the Wind God, "Oh come on! He stole the face of his DEAD friend!" You yelled, "Don't get me started with how he abandoned his nation for the tyrants to just invade Mond. Lady Venessa freed Mondstadt from the Lawrence clan!" Technically, Venti did help but you need to get the crowd on your side.

"That's enough," Ei said approaching you as she unsheath her sword, "You also abandoned your nation! What? because your sister, THE TRUE RULER of Inazuma died?" At this point everyone is appalled.

"T-"

"Don't even get me started with you, you rat tailed motherfucker. You literally made a deal with the fatui, you knew Childe was gonna summon Osial and you let it happen. More so, you faked your own death because you didn't feel like ruling over Liyue? Or was it because you finally understood that you're just incapable of being an Archon? The only reason you survived the Archon War was the adepti and yaksha that you expended!"

"..."

"And who's to say you didn't commit any crime?" Ei said after the shock had dissipated, "What crime!? How do you think a mere mortal were to steal a God's face!?" You screamed through a horse voice, now you've got everyone talking, (like the jury in the Ace Attorney.)

"Is your god suffering from sever little-bitchitis to the point you'd hunt anybody who look REMOTELY similar to them?"

The Archons were stunned, it seemed like you made everyone hold their breathe. "Such blasphemy won't go unforgi-" "I don't need your forgiveness, you cockroach arthritis-suffering bitch," you cut Zhongli off.

"Hey now...let's not say something will regret, huh?" Nahida said, through the familiar gentle voice, "I won't regret anything that comes out of my mouth." You replied, not finding any reasons why Nahida should be insulted.

"By far, the only Archon that ever helped the Traveller was the Dendro Archon! And she was even locked up!" You said, "You, Barbatos, you just avoided any talk about traveller's twin. Morax, why did you sign a contract that silences you about their twin? Do they scare you that much? Are you really that weak and pathetic?" You said apathetically and sarcastically.

"I am under a contract, and I must abide by that contract," Zhongli replied with a more... confident form, you can't wait to crush it, "Didn't you also sign a contract with the mortals of Teyvat that you'd never hurt them? WELL WHAT ABOUT ME? WHY AM I AM EXCEPTION?" Technically, he didn't, but if they were gonna use lies and deception to win this argument, you might as well do the same.

"Because you're nothing but an Impostor, not even worthy to be called human" Ei said, striking her blade on your thigh, you gasped in pain. "Hah! And what are you? You were an Impostor that created another Impostor because you can't handle the guilt of being one!" At this point it was useless to argue, they were pissed off but the people? They don't believe you, but they've also lost faith to their Gods.

And so, what did you achieve? Death and your name on the history textbooks saying that you were the reason that Teyvat rebelled against their Gods...

So, are you ready to resurrect later in life to attack the Archons (verbally) once more?

Next chapter coming out idk when

[creedslove]

MORNING

Pedro Pascal x f!reader

Summary: Pedro is up early in the morning, you're not. You want to sleep but your boyfriend has other plans.

Warnings: smut, unprotected p in v sex, fingering, creampie, established relationship

0.6k words

You didn't understand why Pedro couldn't be quiet once he woke up. You loved him to death at all times, except when he woke up early and made everything to wake you up as well. You knew he often got bored, and though he wanted you to relax and sleep he also wanted you awake, just like a puppy. That behavior could seem sweet at any hour, but not when it was too damn early in the morning.

You groaned as you refused to open your eyes, you had fallen asleep facing him, and at some point during the night, you snuggled closer and ended up with your head on his chest, which he completed by playing with your hair. He looked down at you and chuckled at how moody you were, caressing your face gently

"Morning, princesa… did you sleep well?" He asked in his husky sleepy voice and got only a groan in response.

"I am still sleeping, Pedro" you said harshly than you intended and faced away from him, in hopes you'd be able to fall asleep. However, as soon as you closed your eyes again, you felt a spike of regret, you shouldn't have been so rude, even if it wasn't your intention, it came out that way and he didn't deserve to be treated that way just because he woke you up.

You looked for his arm and pulled him towards you, so his chest would be against your back

"There you go papi, now you're my personal blanket" you said in a softer tone and let his body scoot closer, feeling something hard poking your ass and it suddenly hit you: that was why he was awake. You chuckled and bit your pillow gently "I can see why you can't sleep and why you woke me up, papi" you laughed softly and moved your hips, brushing your ass against his hard on and hearing a slight moan.

"Don't tease, Y/N, don't you fucking tease" he warned you and received another motion against his hard cock in return.

You just chuckled and lay on your stomach shifting your position a little and opened your legs some more.

"Go ahead papi, I know you want it and I know you can get me ready" you assured him, your ass almost in the air as Pedro looked down at your body and took his hand to your panties, taking them to the side and helping you spread your legs some more. He took a good look at your pussy, stroking your lips gently before parting them and exploring your body. He went up to your clit, rubbing you and feeling how quick you got wet, he loved that and knew it was because of him. His thick fingers explored your warmth, going deep and fingering you slowly at first but fastening the pace as you moved your hips against his hand, wanting more of his touch.

Pedro couldn't wait much longer and freed his cock, pumping it into his fist and watching as his pre cum glistened all over. He squeezed your ass cheeks and slapped it good, making you whimper before he got into your wet core, feeling your walls tightening and milking him and his hand found your clit, teasing it and making sure you'd be sent to an orgasm almost at the same time he was.

His thrusts became sloppy after some time and you knew he was close, you felt his hot load inside at the same time the knot on your lower belly became too intense and you let it go, legs shaking softly as you came for him.

You chuckled and turned to him, as soon as Pedro rolled back to his side, you pecked his neck and then his lips gently while he tried catching his breath.

"Ahora sí, buenos días papi"

___

A/N: I hope you enjoyed it! And always remember, feedback = life

[thought--bubble]

Prized Possession

Dark Aemond X (Maid Reader)

Warnings after the cut

Canon Aemond Masterlist

Full Masterlist

Banners by @arcielee

Based on THIS request

Warnings:: Cheating, Smut, Dub-con, Slight choking, a little bit of roughness.

It is a sad day at storms end. Your lady, the lady you serve, the sweet, caring, and gentle lady Floris Baratheon was to be wed in a few weeks' time.

This would normally be a cause for celebration, yet the sad look forever etched onto the face of your sweet lady made it clear that this is not the case.

She is to marry Prince Aemond Targaryen. A betrothal that brings her house closer to the crown. Yet Aemond is known for his cruelty, Lady Floris being the sweet and gentle lady she is, has been regretful for weeks wishing beyond all hope that somehow, she would be freed from his harshness, his cruelty, and the emotionless expression that sits upon his face every time he has visited storms end since the betrothal.

Lady Floris constantly wracked with fear clings closely to you, her personal chamber maid. You are but 2 years older than your lady. Assigned to work with her since childhood, the same way your elder sister was assigned to work with Lady Cassandra.

This was for the comfort of the Baratheon ladies, of course. Having a chamber maid that would grow up with them, to give them a source of comfort, someone to trust.

So, when Lady Floris requested that you accompany her to Kings Landing, you were not surprised. Ever since the announcement of the betrothal, you knew you would end up in kings landing, helping your Lady care for the little princes and princesses she would no doubt bear for her husband.

So, when the time came to leave, you packed your few belongings and hugged your sister tight and followed Lady Floris into her carriage with a heavy heart. Although you served Lady Floris, you also cared for her deeply. You knew her fears, her desires, and her dreams.

The trip was somber, but you did your best to keep her spirits up. Playing little games with strings tied around your fingers that you have played since you were girls.

When you arrived at Kings Landing, poor Lady Floris was a ball of nerves. She wanted nothing more than to run. You stood close by her as she requested her feeling safer with you by her side.

As she is once again introduced to her betrothed and the dowager Queen, you do a quick curtsy and stand behind her head down as is your place.

While they talk and exchange their pleasantries you feel as if someone is watching you. Staring into you, so harshly the hair stands up on the back of your neck. You know this isn't possible. Who would be watching you?

The rest of the night goes just as it should. You accompany Lady Floris as she walks about the grounds until it is time to return to her chambers to get her ready for her evening meal with the royal family. You assist her with her hair and dress, softly cooing to her all the while attempting to make her feel at ease.

You see her off as she takes her father's hand so he can escort her. You close the door to her chambers and continue to unpack her things. You have worked with her for so long you know exactly how she likes her things and want to make this new space as comforting to her as possible.

She has only been gone mere moments before there is a knock on the door. You chuckle to yourself thinking your Lady forgot something. When you open the door, you come face to face with her betrothed. Prince Aemond Targaryen stands before you his regality seeps from his every pore. head held high; chin pushed forward he looks down at you.

You quickly fall into a curtsy. "I-I'm sorry my prince. Your betrothed has already left, Lord Baratheon has already escorted her."

"Of that I am aware" He steps into the room and closes the door behind him. "I have actually come to see you."

"Me?" you hardly squeak out the word. Why in all of Westeros would he be there to see you?

"That scar" he gestures toward your left eye.

The thing you hate most about yourself is that horrid scar, running around with your sister and the Ladies you both serve falling, nearly gouging your own eye out, the aftermath leaving you with a jagged scar from your eyebrow to just underneath your eye. It is your most unpleasant memory.

"Childhood injury" You attempt to angle your face, so the scar is less visible.

"No need to hide it from me" He steps up close to you taking your chin in his hand and turning your head, inspecting the scar. He runs a cold course finger down the raised flesh. You cringe at the sensation.

He lowers his head to your eyebrow and places a soft kiss on the mark there, then, without a word, backs away from you and quickly exits the room.

The next few days you stay glued to Lady Floris' side. She and Aemond take walks daily trying to get to know each other. Since they are betrothed, they are not to be left alone. Thus, you are forced to accompany them on these forays around the castle.

The worst part being Prince Aemonds's ever lingering eye. He feigns interest while he allows Lady Floris to babble incessantly while almost always keeping that one cold, violent eye locked on you, and each day as Lady Floris becomes more and more besotted with the prince, you fall deeper and deeper into despair.

A week before the wedding you are walking behind Aemond and Lady Floris as Floris chatters on about her love for music when you are suddenly interrupted by a guard who was sent to collect Lady Floris and bring her to her Lord father.

When you go to follow her, the guard stops you. "He wishes to speak with her privately"

Floris turns to you and asks you to wait for her in her chambers, to which you quickly agree. You are left standing with Aemond as you watch her walk away.

Silence falls between you until you curtsy and go to take your leave. You can feel him walking behind you, and you make your way through the castle. The light tapping of his feet echoing yours.

You wait to hear his feet trail off in a different direction the closer you get to your lady's chambers, but they don't. Aemond continues to quietly follow behind you even as you arrive at your destination.

You attempt to pretend he isn't there and enter the chambers swiftly, attempting to close the door behind you. He chuckles to himself and holds the door open with his hand entering behind you.

You act shocked, "my prince! umm, did you need my assistance with something?"

Aemond says nothing just stalks closer to you until his chest is pressed up against you. You attempt to back up, but he wraps his arm around your back, pulling you tightly against him. He leans down and nibbles at your neck, sending a wave of pleasure across your delicate skin. Your eyes flutter closed as you enjoy the feeling, his hand travels down your back, pushing you tighter to his body.

When he begins to pull up the skirts of your dress, your eyelids fly open, and you push him back.

"My price," you hesitate. "You are to marry Lady Floris. This is most inappropriate. I serve her and must remain loyal to her"

You turn your head away, just briefly, but it is enough to draw his ire.

"You may be her chamber maid. You may serve her, but make no mistake, she is to be my wife, and when that happens, everything that is hers becomes mine"

You hold your breath, with your eyes downcast. As he walks toward the door to exit the room, he stops beside you and places his hand on your shoulder.

"That includes you"

He exits the room swiftly, slamming the door behind him, leaving your head reeling. There is nothing left to wonder, he has made his intentions abundantly clear, and you are torn between the loyalty and love you have for Lady Floris and the physical reaction of your body to his touch.

You do your best to avoid him over the coming week. It isn't too difficult to do since Floris has been very busy preparing for the wedding, and you have been stuck to her side.

The wedding proceeds, and you stand in the crowd proudly. Your lady looks so beautiful, so poised. The ceremony is beautiful. The feast goes well. She goes off with her new husband. He hadn't spared a glance your way the entire day. Oddly, this left you with a mix of emotions. Relief that he may have come to his senses, as well as grief that he may have come to his senses.

As wrong as you knew, it was you longed to feel his callous fingertips graze your skin. His teeth pulling at your neck. You push these thoughts out of your mind. He is with his wife, Lady Floris, whom you love and respect.

The next morning, while brushing Lady Floris' hair you inwardly cringe as she describes the events of the night before. How her new husband was so gentle with her and so sweet. How he gave her space to recover and collect her thoughts afterward.

You found this difficult to reconcile. Gentle? Sweet? Caring about the needs of others? This is not characterization that populated in your head after your encounters with the prince.

The rest of this day is exhausting Floris flouncing about excitedly telling other ladies how her husband is so misunderstood and is truly charming and loving.

You had never been so excited for a day to end. After helping Floris out of her day clothing and into her night clothing, you wish her a good night and make your way back to your chambers close by that you share with two other maids.

You couldn't have been sitting more than a minute before you are summoned to the private chambers of Prince Aemond.

You sigh and rub your eyes in frustration. The entire walk to his chambers, your thoughts are spiraling. What does he want? He is a married man! A gentle caring one, apparently! Could he be apologizing? Swearing me to secrecy?

As you knock on his door, your stomach is doing somersaults. When you hear his voice beckoning you to enter, you quickly open the door and step inside, closing the door behind you.

You slowly make your way into the room to see him sitting by the hearth rubbing the tips of his fingers against the wooden armrest of the chair in which he is sitting.

"You summoned me, my prince?" You clasp your hands together in front of you delicately on your stomach while pacing your breathing. One -two breathe one-two breathe.

He stands from the chair without a word quickly makes his way to you and grabs the back of your neck before harshly pressing his lips down on yours. You melt into the kiss for a moment before your logic prevails.

" My prince! We can not!" You stagger back slightly but he immediately advances upon you.

"You are a servant are you not?" He barks

You nod

"You belong to my wife, and my wife belongs to me." he closes the gap between you, bringing his fingers up to the side of your cheek.

"Her things are now my things." he runs his thumb across your pouty bottom lip and brings his mouth right next to your ear,

"even her most prized possession"

He starts to unlace the strings on your dress as you stand there and watch, eyes opened wide with shock.

"That makes you my servant" he pulls the dress off pushing it harshly to the floor.

"Now serve"

He pushes you back gently. You follow his lead and continue to walk back until your calfs hit the hard wooden surface of his bed frame.

He grabs you by the thighs, lifting you up and tossing you onto the bed before he quickly climbs over you like a lion stalking its prey.

"I have to give her children, a title, and a gentle husband. Everything else I give to you."

You silently stare up at him as he leans back to pull the white linen shirt he is wearing off, exposing his pale firm chest.

He leans back down, biting your neck and pushing himself up against you.

"You get the real me." As he says this, he grabs your throat and holds it tight.

He looks at you with a devilish smile as he slowly squeezes tighter and tighter. You can feel your face growing hot as you find it harder and harder to breathe before he finally releases you.

He unlaces his breeches, pulling them off hastily, and you breathe in hard, trying to regain air in your lungs.

He pushes your shift up and tears your underclothes off before bringing his hand between your legs.

He chuckles as his fingers meet the wetness there.

"You like the animal in me, don't you, sweet girl?" You don't say anything but moan softly as he moves his hand in a circular motion.

He brings his other hand back up to your throat and holds it tight. He doesn't cut off your air this time but holds you in place as he dips his long, bony middle finger inside of you. You jump a little at the feeling and he pushes back against your neck.

"So warm, so soft." he growls, and his eye locks on his hand as he moves it in and out of your body with building quickness.

You can't help but arch your back as he finds a spot inside of you that forces your body to react.

"You serve so well. You will do fine, sweet girl" he continues to move his hand while rubbing at your clit with his thumb holding you in place by the throat the whole time.

The pleasure in your lower body builds and builds with you powerless to escape it until it takes over your entire being, sending shockwaves up and down the entire length of your body.

He quickly removes his hand and replaces it with the tip of his cock dragging it along your entrance just barely tapping your clit making you twitch.

He uses one hand to guide himself into you while the other one keeps to its rightful place around your throat.

He enters you quickly, it hurts, and he knows it, and when you look at his face, you know he enjoys that fact.

He pushes himself into you repeatedly, always keeping his eye on the spot where your bodies connect, watching himself slide in and out a look of satisfaction on his face.

You whimper quietly, your body, feeling a mix of pleasure, pain, and adrenaline.

"Do you feel that sweet girl?" He coos

You nod and whimper as he increases his pace.

"That's me.....tearing you apart." he brings his mouth to your cheek and licks the tear rolling down.

He rubs your pearl with his thumb and squeezes your neck tighter again cutting off your air supply.

"Fall apart for me" he grunts while slamming into you harder.

You gasp for air as that feeling of pleasure builds back up in your lower body.

"I need you to break." he slams into you even harder, biting his bottom lip and groaning loudly.

He rubs furiously at your pearl, and for a second time, you feel your entire body shatter as you continue to attempt to breath.

He closes his eyes, enjoying the sensation of you gripping around him, then quickly pulls out, pumping himself to completion onto your stomach.

He lays back on the bed, and neither of you move for a few minutes just trying to regain your thoughts. After a bit, you get up to find something to clean yourself with. You end up just using your underclothes too afraid to use something of his.

As you pick up your clothes and start to redress yourself he stops you.

"Where are you going?" He asks, not even sitting up on the bed to look at you.

"Back to my quarters" you start to slide your dress over your body.

He finally sits up and looks at you. He grips his cock in his hand starting to pump himself again.

"Not yet, I still have need for my servant"

To be added to tag list click here

[sweetbutpsychobutsweet]

Like We Used To Be

Chapter 4

Thorin Oakenshield x AFAB!Reader

Summary: Thorin attempts to extend an olive branch to you, but the arrival of some new allies might put a further strain on your already complicated relationship,

Warnings: canon typical violence, jealous!Thorin, angst, no use of y/n

author's note: I'm truly blown away by the amount of support I've already received on the last few chapters. I hope you're ready for tomorrow when I post the 5th installment because things are about to SERIOUSLY heat up🥵

Word count: 1740

“Where did you two go to if I may ask?” Thorin demands of you as soon as he is freed from his burlap sack.

“To look ahead,” Gandalf replies at the same time you say: “none of your business.”

The two men start discussing the possibility of a cave nearby but you have already stalked off to re-gather your things. It would probably be safe to assume the group will no longer wish to stay in this spot. You’re shoving blankets and food back into your bag when you hear someone approaching from behind. 

Not just someone. You already know it’s him before he even speaks your name, but you refuse to turn around and look at him. 

“Are you alright?” he asks gently.

“Me?” you turn around with a laugh. “I’m perfectly fine, you’re the one who was almost eaten by mountain trolls.”

“We had it handled,” he grumbles.

“Right,” you drawl with one eyebrow raised, “that’s why half of you were in burlap sacks while the rest were roasting over the fire like chestnuts. Is there a reason you followed me over here, or were you just hoping to worsen my already sour mood?”

He chuckles and looks down at his feet, “I can’t recall the last time I saw you in a good mood.”

“I can,” you whisper. Judging by the look on his face you can tell there is no need to elaborate for him that back before everything went wrong between the two of you, simply seeing him walk into the room would be enough to put a smile on your face.

He looks up at you with those piercing blue eyes and you force yourself to avert your gaze, knowing if you let yourself look too long you’ll be done for.

“About what I said earlier,” he clears his throat and clasps his hands behind his back as he takes a cautious step closer to you. “I’d like to apologize. Of course, you are as much a dwarf as the rest of us. Erebor is your home as well as mine”

You look up at him again in surprise. An apology from Thorin is a rare thing indeed. Could what Gandalf said be true? Does he respect you?

He takes another step closer to you and you can practically feel the warmth radiating off of him. If he sees the blush creeping into your cheeks he makes no mention of it.

“I regret that every interaction we have had on this journey has been so…”

“Hostile?” you offer breathlessly and he chuckles lowly, the sound sending a shiver down your spine.

“Yes,” he admits, “I do hope, that by the time we reach Erebor, we can find a way to become… friends. Like we used to be.” his fingers gently brush up against yours, slowly starting to interlace them together, one by one. 

“Like we used to be,” you repeat back in a whisper. 

Like we used to be before you left me behind a bitter voice in your head reminds you. And all at once your ill feelings towards him come rushing back in. 

You yank your fingers out of his grip and step away from him.

“Things have changed a great deal since then, Thorin,” you remind him. “We’re not children anymore, we’re not the same people we used to be. I think it's time we both accept that and move on.”

His jaw clenches like he has something to say, but he just nods at you and interlaces his hands behind his back as if to resist reaching for yours again. 

“Very well, if that is how you truly feel we will speak no more of it.” he clears his throat anxiously. “We believe we’ve found a troll cave nearby, the others are waiting to investigate.”

He turns on his heel without another word and takes off in that direction. 

You follow a ways behind him, wondering to yourself all the while: what would have happened if you had said yes?

------------------------------------------------------------------------

“You are being hunted!” Gandalf cries as Thorin’s sword drips with the blood of the slain Warg at his feet.

With all of your ponies now long gone, and an orc pack suddenly on your tail, the company has no choice but to try and outrun them.

Your lungs burn and your legs ache as you keep pushing further and further through the clearing. Putting all of the strength you have into making it to the one rock formation large enough to conceal you all from your pursuers. 

“Where are you leading us?” Thorin asks Gandalf suspiciously. He refuses to answer, shooting a look in your direction that gives you a feeling that wherever it is, Thorin is not going to be happy about it. 

Wherever it is has to be better than here you think to yourself, as one of the orc scouts and his Warg hop atop your hiding spot, inches away from discovering you all concealed below. 

Before he can find you, Kili steps out far enough to shoot the Orc off, sending him tumbling to the grass by your feet. 

The small victory is short-lived however because now the rest of the pack knows where you are.

You’re all forced to run again in vain. Only to find yourselves surrounded on all sides, with Gandalf nowhere to be seen.

“He’s abandoned us!” someone shouts.

“Hold your ground!” Thorin commands from somewhere behind you.

Despite the ache in your arms you hold your twin blades up high, prepared to put up a fight until the very end.

“This way you fools!” calls Gandalf from behind another rock.

You follow the rest to find the wizard at the entrance to a steep rocky slope into a hidden cave below. You don’t fight Thorin as he offers you a hand to make your way down to join the others, tumbling down shortly after you.

The sounds of the orc pack still pursuing you come from outside but are quickly silenced by the unexpected blaring of a horn and the whistling of arrows. 

A slain orc falls down into your cave with one such arrow lodged in his flesh.

Thorin pulls it out and you both already know its origin before he grumbles: “Elves”

The mental map in your head now tells you exactly where you are, and without a second thought you take off running down the narrow pathway, the rest of the dwarves calling after you in protest.

You stop in awe at the familiar scenery before you.

“The valley of Imladris,” Gandalf announces, “in the common tongue it’s known by another name.” 

“Rivendell,” you and Bilbo both whisper in unison

“Here lies the last homely house east of the sea,” Gandalf says affectionately.

“This was your plan all along,” Thorin accuses him, “ to seek refuge with our enemy.”

You look over at him and scoff, “Would you rather take your chances with the orcs?”

“You have no enemies here Thorin Oakenshield,” Gandalf assures him. “The only ill will to be found in this valley is that which you bring yourself.”

“In that case, Rivendell is about to become a very hostile environment,” you mumble to yourself but Thorin elects to ignore you.

“You think the elves will give our quest their blessing? They will try to stop us!” he protests,

“Of course, they will!” agrees Gandalf, “but we have questions that need to be answered. If we are to be successful this will need to be handled with tact and respect. And no small degree of charm. Which is why you will leave the talking to the two of us.” Gandalf declares, nodding in your direction.

“The nicer you are the sooner we get to leave,” you translate for Thorin with a condescending pat on the shoulder before taking off down the path towards Rivendell.

“Mithrandir!” Lindir greets Gandalf as he descends the elegant staircase before the two begin conversing in Elvish. 

“Stay sharp,” Thorin warns the others. And you roll your eyes at the tension your kin are so clearly maintaining while in a beautiful place such as this.

“I must speak with Lord Elrond,” Gandalf says switching back to the common tongue.

“My Lord Elrond is not here,” Lindir replies apologetically.

“Not here? Where is he?” Gandalf questions in alarm.

But it is short-lived with yet another blaring of a now familiar horn.

“Close ranks!” Thorin shouts in alarm as an elven group on horseback approaches. 

“Lord Elrond!” Gandalf greets the elf as he dismounts his horse before responding to the wizard in elvish.

“Strange for orcs to come so close to our borders, something or someone has drawn them near.”

“That would be us,” you offer from behind him with a smile.

Elrond turns sharply at the sound of your voice, his face lighting up in excitement as he calls your name.

“My darling! It's been too long since you’ve graced these halls!” you laugh as he pulls you into a warm embrace. 

“I’m sorry I haven’t been able to make the journey sooner, but I have so much to share with you!”

“I imagine you do!” he replies, “why don’t you start by telling me what a lovely creature such as yourself is doing traveling with a group of brutes such as this?”

You turn to look back at Thorin, who has a fierce scowl on his face as he stares directly at the place on your arm where Elrond’s hand still rests.

“Welcome Thorin, son of Thrain!” the elven lord greets him.

“I do not believe we have met,” he replies curtly.

“You have your grandfather’s bearing,” Elrond responds, paying no attention to Thorin’s hostile tone. “I knew Thror when he ruled under the mountain.”

“Indeed?” Thorin curls his fists at his side, “he made no mention of you.”

“Thorin! Be nice,” you warn him.

Lord elrond takes another step closer to him and starts to speak in the elvish tongue.

“What is he saying?” Gloin shouts in alarm, “Does he offer us insult?”

“No master Gloin,” Gandalf assured him, “he is offering you food.”

The dwarves take a moment to discuss amongst themselves, but you already know what their answer will be.

“Ah well,” Gloin says, “in that case lead on.”

Lord Elrond politely offers his arm to you, and you make a point of glaring back at Thorin before accepting it as the elf lord leads you up the stairs.

Next Chapter

Taglist:

@mrsdurin @thetaekwondofeline

[christinebloodwrittings]

To hunt or be hunted #10

Pairing: Alastor x Fem!Reader x Lucifer Summary: Just a window to what the beginning looked like, before the deal, and wine and dine with Luci. Warnings: Angst, blood, Charlie being a divorce child.

I'm brewing something good here, a very special friend of mine is writing the smut for the next part, so please be patient.

Hazbin Taglist: @sakuraluna2468 @boogiemansbitch @mysterypotatoink @sibsteria @cherry-cola-100 @readergirlstuff @phoenixica24 @martinys-world @alientee @jellyroom2 @jewelsrules @ladyzaunis @zealousllamawolf @kittycat246 @shamblezzz

Young, idiot and most of all, blood lusted.

“They have never caught me and they never will. They have never seen me, for I am invisible, even as the ether that surrounds your earth. I am not a human being, but a spirit and a fell demon from hottest hell” you laughed repeating your own word written in blood.

How could you explain death? Its smell, sandalwood. Its feeling? Warm, ember heat-like. After hitting 2000 victims, your mind drifted to a state of noise. Multiple voices drove your senses to anger, wrath, the influence of your hate had incinerated your reason, and made you seem like a monster in the night.

The coarse sound of the metal dragging the street was all the New Orleanians could hear besides the jazz playing, because that was the only condition you put to spared those who claimed themselves innocent. The list in your hand seemed infinite as re enforcements settled in your city.  

Walking around the bayou reviewing the same, you found the gentleman image of your desires eating some lady’s arm behind a willow tree, such nauseating devotion made your core feel butterflies.

Endless names, nonending blood flow. Suddenly food didn’t satiated you, water had the contrary effect on you, this had to stop. Your axe in hand, in the cold of your marital bedroom, you lit a candle, its dim light barely managing to fight the gloomy atmosphere. And you laughed, for the first time after having cried so much death and pain.

For the first time your hands shook on your axe, but that didn't matter, as soon as your vision blurred, you moved automatically, forcing the blade against your face, right in the middle. Again and again hard and breaking sounds, blood on your dress and sheets, by some supernatural force you managed to split your own skull in two before losing your life completely. The last thing your eyes saw among the blood that fell from your eyelids was the candle that started a fire.

You died at the hands of the Axe-man.

Everyone pictures purgatory in a different way, usually something they would hate, in your case that was a Hospital corridor, with a red lighted number count, waiting to be your turn.

"Miss Lionheart, I must say that we were waiting for you, we had a predicament about where to put your soul," the secretary, a lamb with pink fur like cotton candy, examined documents all with images of you without your face, "On the one hand you freed many girls from sexual slavery, she also lived being honest, fair and in her moments benevolent" her bitter tone contrasted with the reading of your judgment.

"However a life is a life, the good deed will not be praised because it was stained with violence, insanity, wrath, vengeance and pride" she rearranged her glasses as a fifty-year-old lady would, "Also, you renounced God and his teachings, I fear that hell awaits you" she gave you a pious look, if it were up to her, you would be enjoying eternal life in heaven, but the decision was made by a power greater than her.

Would you have lived better if you had known that heaven was real? You asked yourself, seeing the shiny door contrast with the dark and red sky. On the other hand, did you regret cutting those girls' chains? No.

You fell, the hot wind hissed on your skin, slowly engulfing you like embers, the ground shook and a great roar was caused by the impact of your new body on the dry, sulfurous soil on the outskirts of pentagram city.

Years before the technology impact.

Relatively young, addicted to the tingle of consuming a soul. It is a sensation like no other, making deals with souls for asylum and care. You took advantage of those who didn't know a better alternative, the faceless monster they called you, a faceless chimera. One of the first Overlords you met was Zestial, who repudiates you, he’s disgusted because he thinks you’re a rebel without morals.

You would rather die than admit that you were almost killed in your first extermination, an angel who returned home with her mask broken, just because you understood too late that the edge of your axe didn’t make cuts on her skin, instead the holy blade rose your arm, making your blood sizzle like when you but bloody meat on the grill.

Barely managed to escape her. It's funny that a being considered divine is more bloodthirsty than a serial killer, it is but it doesn't cause you much fun.

The pain of the wound clouded several of your senses for years, the good thing is that with a total count of seven million souls and the tobacco business taking over years after your arrival, the souls gave you enough strength to overcome the pain.

Call it destiny or divine mercy, but the hotel was your refuge when the acid of the rain began to melt your skin. Among the cobwebs and the rats you slept, you let the power help with the wounds. "Hey, that looks bad, do you need help?" soft and sweet, Charlie tried everything to seem that way, "How much is it going to cost me?" She didn't mean to laugh at you, but the princess knew little about what was happening on the streets of her kingdom.

"Nothing, I just want to help, I can't promise you perfection but the scar will be great?" she tried to make you feel better. A ray of sun in the dark Charlie is, in your eyes she resembled a lot of your own daughter, the slight curve of her smile, the golden locks, the warmth radiating from her mere presence.

You were far too much of a fool to admit you loved that, instead you wanted to destroy her.

Weakness, in your path to the power, it was a term that couldn’t exist. Letting you help her, even seeing that she was in a worse state than you, put a patch in your heart, it had been there for a long time, caused by time. Although it's true, she offered you her hand and you snatched it from her, figuratively.

But what started the fight itself? Going down the hill from where the hotel is established, into the hole where it was rumored the archangel and his wife had fallen, with dagger in hand you heard her talk about how much it hurt her that her mother had turned her back on her, not a word had she said to her before. to take his suitcases and leave. Without really listening you raised the object, her back an open target, but when you were about to end her, she disappeared from your view.

The air around became dense, almost tangible, the dagger flew from your hand and embedded itself far from your reach, that was when you turned to see the monster that could become the princess of hell.

Two months of knowing her, down the drain.

And then the deal was given, despite how angry she was, she helped you with your injuries and you with hers, with the few powers that she allowed you to possess you fixed the hotel to look less in ruins, you paid to fix it a little even if it was not the best workmanship.

"Can you say something to make me feel better?" She said with a blanket over her body, looking at the fireplace, "It's raining acid" you sat next to her, leaving her cup of sweet tea in front of her, with a small plate of cookies, "How does that help me?" She said discouraged, "Instead of focusing on the acid, just notice that we no longer have leaks, and enjoy the sound" She took your advice, closed her eyes and listened.

“You’re right” she smiled, first in a while.

You snapped out your trance when the king kissed your cheek, his breath was warm and minty.

Lucifer had promised to take you to one of the best restaurants in his kingdom, without taking into account the terror that his presence and yours would cause, of course. The poor group of waiters watched attentively as Lucifer chose a table that he liked, one near the stage where a comedian occasionally appeared. The group looked with pity at one of his companions, that was his assigned area.

The king took the chair and gallantly invited you to sit, after you did he could’ve sat in front of you, but he decided to be by your side, at a distance in which he could have your hand in his. “Welcome your majesty and miss Axe-man, can I get you started on anything?” the waiter was sweating himself to death, as Lucifer ordered some entrees and drinks while they cooked up some kind of demon lobster.

He promised you’d love the taste, and he weren’t wrong, “I have no idea why I haven’t tried this before” he was delighted he could show you new things, he even introduced you to absinthe, which is an anise flavored liquor that can in fact cause severe intoxication when consumed a large quantities. That is why it is served in very tiny glasses.

“So, how is it?” he threw a laugh when he saw your frown as soon as the liquid went down your throat, “Tastes earthy, with a kick, I think I’ll stick to either fruit cocktails or whiskey” he made a signal to the waiter, who brought you a glass of a single malt type of whiskey, “Was your idea knowing that I wouldn’t like it or the waiter’s insight?” he smirked “Both” you kissed his cheek then motioned your hand so the boy would come near you enough to slip a 50 hell buck in his pocket, “Good thinking”.

An inner part of yourself thought it was funny the amount of respect or fear you got by yourself, but with his hand on yours, people saw you as an asset not worth the chance of getting killed for even see you in a wrong way. It gave you sensations down your crotch, right in your sadism side.

“You love it don’t you?” he knew you knew what he meant, “It became my new guilty pleasure” he chose your dress, well rather suggested, he wanted to match with you.

He didn't know whether to change his style or give you something that matched him, he didn't want to disrespect you in any way, you chose to get out of the black for a day and try to open yourself up to a new possibility. With a snap of his fingers he materialized a dress on your body that you really liked.

From the bust to the waist it was white adorned with embroidery of flowers of different sizes and flowers, all white. The skirt was long and uncut, falling perfectly to your ankles, a beautiful scarlet red that matched his wings. It was a very conservatory dress, fit to the time you were born in, but that accentuated your features in a perfect way.

“You look beautiful” “All thanks to my designer” 'Did she liked this sort of dresses too?' You thought, “Lilith liked things that would show off more skin, in case you were wondering” you were, he knew that as soon as he looked at you, while taking a sip out of his drink, “I couldn’t help it” he gave you a gentle squeeze on your hand, “I know” he wasn't angry, at all.

“Do you read my mind?” A type of tension in the air, breathable, yet he had you tied by your hands and feet in his gaze, let them damn you, because the devil is beautiful. “I don’t need to; your eyes are pretty sincere” He wondered what your eyes would look like without your soul being owned by someone else, he was grateful that someone as good as his daughter had you instead of a heartless overlord that could use you as he pleased.

“I hate the way you read me” you whispered close to his ear, sending a shiver down his spine, “No you don’t” he offered you a cocky smile and a soft kiss to the hand he was holding.

“Thank you for being for me last night” his voice was soft, still carrying a lot of pain. With a smile and a soft caress to his cheek you spoke, “Anytime, Luci” his name rolling down your mouth was heaven to him.

Later that night the rest of the hotel was awake and hanging out in the parlor, “Hey Y/n, how did it go?” Charlie waved at you from the fire place, while Vaggie asked “Where’s the king?”, you laughed and showed a little of your neck under your coat that he had conjured, showing a sleeping white snake, “He had a little too much to drink, suddenly he was snoozing and a snake” Charlie let out a chuckle, “I’ll take his royal self to bed if you guys don’t mind“ Angel went running to your side to take a photo of sleepy Luci, “He looks so cute like that” he cooed excitedly, “I know, right?”.

He in a puff of golden glitter he turned back to his adorable self, just as you were setting him down on the bed, “Don’t leave me” me muttered, deep asleep, “I’ll be back in a few minutes, I promise” he snuggled against your plushie, purring slightly at your caresses. His light snoring was your signal to pull his boots off and finish tucking him in.

Now, what you promised to Alastor, indulging him in a few drinks.

-----------------------------------------

Part 11

[10yrsyart]

possibly my favorite song of all time, “The Prodigal Son Suite” by Keith Green, tells the parable of the same name in Luke 15:11-32.  a man asked for his inheritance from his father before he’d even passed and then goes off to waste it all on worldly fun and fast friends. but when he runs out, he hits hard times and in his struggle, realizes his mistakes. he heads back home, hoping he will at least be allowed to work as a servant for his father. upon his arrival, his father rushes to meet him and the son confesses his sins and regrets. but the father is overjoyed to see him; he’s already forgiven him and throws a huge feast to celebrate his return to the family.

this parable is a beautiful picture of salvation and the heart of God the Father. the son didn’t deserve the celebration; he wronged his father and turned away from him. but the father still loved him and was ready and waiting to receive him back. the reconciliation only happened once the son acknowledged his mistakes and made the choice to return.

every one of us has sinned against God. and yet He still sent Jesus to die for us and pay for that sin in our place. He waits eagerly for us to repent (which means a change of mind) and turn to Him. His eternal gift of salvation is a gift of Grace, meaning it’s something we didn’t and can’t earn. like the father, Jesus waits with open arms to forgive us and receive us into His Heavenly family. and as Luke 15:7 says, “There is more joy in Heaven over one lost sinner who repents and returns to God, than over ninety-nine others who are righteous and haven’t strayed away!” 

“We are made right with God by placing our faith in Jesus Christ. And this is true for everyone who believes, no matter who we are. For everyone has sinned; we all fall short of God’s glorious standard. Yet God, with undeserved kindness, declares we are righteous. He did this through Christ Jesus when He freed us from the penalty of sins.” (Romans 3:22-24)

(even greater than my love for the parable, is my love for the beginning and ending segments of music. it sounds so much like a Heavenly Homecoming to me, that i tried my best to incorporate that feeling into the ending.)

[outisgivingpac]

A message from your loved one🐦💌👀

Hello again, this is another theme from my last poll with the second most votes 🤗 In this PAC, we shall take a look at what your loved one want you to know, and it could be from your friends, family, romantic partner or even your pets 🌱

If you found my reading helpful or entertaining in any ways, please support me by liking and reblogging it. It helps my post reach more people and will be my huge source of motivation to continue creating free content. Check out my pinned post for personal reading. Enjoy~

✨Pick the picture/pile you feel most draw to✨

Pile 1. Pile 2.

Pile 3. Pile 4.

Pile 1

Death, 7 of Swords, 5 of Cups reversed

(TW: codependency)

Who are they?

This is someone from your past, whose relationship with you has come to an end or currently in the no-contact state. You could be the one who have walked away from them. This might due to objective reasons like one of you moved away to pursue their career. But I feel like it has more to do with how you might have crashed; you no longer saw them as a part of the future you want to have for yourself. The other way round can also be true, and you could both outgrow this connection. The end or halt of this relationship/attachment opened a new phase in your life.

What is their current energy?

They're coping hard in your absence. They might be stalking your social media, and/or trying to get any news about you and your current life through the few mutual friends you guys share. On the other hand, they also try hard to prove to themselves and everyone around them, that they're doing fine on their own even without you. They would try to engage in the same activities/commitments, that they used to have with you, with someone else, just to fill in the emptiness. For the few of you, this person could be a parental figure or a caregiver, who is suffering from the empty nest syndrome. In any case, they based most of their identity with the connection you two had, and is struggling to be something more after you left.

What is their message?

I feel a lot of regretful energy coming from them. They want you to know whatever action and words they put out back then that might have hurt you, it came out at the heat of the moment and they are still regreting it. There're things out of their control, and probably a lot of miscommunication. But, they want you to know they might have been mad/disappointed/ashamed, but never of you. Though, they fear they would sabotage the relationship further if they try to come forwards too strong. So as of now, they still keep the distance and watch your move. They just hope you won't blame/hate them too much for the past.

Pile 2

3 of Pentacles, Ace of Pentacles, The Magician

Who are they?

This person could be a colleague at your work place, a classmate or your partner, with whom you're building a life with. In any cases, you guys have been together for a while, long enough to know how to work and play together as a team. For some of you, this could be someone with whom you have collaborated on a more personal (hobby-ish) project long time ago, and still more or less stay on each other's contact. If you are a freelancer artist/writer/ect., this could be one of your customer lol. They stand out because a, they could also be your friend b, they're from the industry/the same fandom as you, the project you took on for them was super fun and successful.

What is their current energy?

Oh this person has some big idea cooking in their mind. They could be just freed from a duty/commitment and they are up to work on something with you, using what they learned/earned from the previous gig. They could have already started it and wanted to invite you in the team for your insight/magic touch. They're not so good at keeping good news secret, so you probably hear from them soon, if not already 🤭

What is their message?

Oh my, this person really looks up to you with spark in their eyes. To them, you're the specialist, a guru friend they can always trust to consult when it comes to this particular field. They want you to take pride in your work and be confident! It hurts them whenever you talk shit about yourself or sell your services cheaply. They want you to know they are always there for you. You can just ask and they would give their sword. Otherwise they would keep away from involving from your work. They are enthusiastically respect your creativity independence and would hate to come off as patronizing/overbearing.

Pile 3

Page of Wands reversed, Queen of Cups, 3 of Swords reversed

Who are they?

This person possesses a youthful or childlike energy. They could be a younger sibling, a child in your family, a junior at your school or workplace. They could simply be a few years younger than you or personality-wise they're just a carefree and/or stubborn type. For some of you it could even be your pet! Another clue I picked up on is they could be going through their rebellious phase at the moment lol

What is their current energy?

Their inner landscape has been expanding in depth as of late. They tend to spend more time for introspection, figuring out their feelings, dreams, and personal values. Because of this, they could appear moody, sensitive and socially less available to others during this time. Like, they would sneak away from people when there's a chance, and would take on solo trip without telling their friends like they usually would. Even though their closed door seem worrisome to most people, their mind is tranquil and they would be happier if people don't make such a big fuss about their absence and return. Just have fun when I'm there, so I heard.

What is their message?

If you guys fought recently, take this as their informal apologies. They can surely do better, but you know how it's harder to say sorry and thank you and I love you to the closest people in our life. On the other hands, they can totally picked it up whenever you're upset, may it be because of them or something else unrelated. Once again, they don't really know how to comfort you and fear that they will only make things worse. So when they see you're in bad mood, they would rather get out of your way and give you space than confronting you be like "What's up?". But it doesn't mean they don't care. Tbh they seem like a big confused puppy whenever it happens. It would be nice if someone could extend an oliver branch so that both parties can talk and clear out misunderstandings and confusion. That person is likely to be you because as I mentioned above, the emotional maturity of the other isn't quite as evolved to take initiatives.

Pile 4

The Sun, King of Cups, 10 of Cups reversed

Who are they?

Think of the most important people in your life right now (yes, pets count), this is one of them. If you believe in that term, this person is one of your soulmates. You just feel whole and safe and the happiest when they're around. Another way to recognize this kind of connection is, you never feel drained spending time with them, in the contrary, you fill each other battery up. For a few of you, they could be someone who is still looking after you from the other side.

What is their current energy?

They are in a state of great emotional stability, or like we say, their cups are full. They're at a place where they can easily sync in with other people, and give out of their compassion, patience and generosity. They're secure, in their lance, flourishing, you name it lol. Their pleasant energy would neutralize the negativity in a room; during this time, you will always see them act out of kindness and love, and be the bigger person in common conflicts.

What is their message?

"We already have everything we need" is the most prominent message that comes through. I think they just want you to take more time to rest and enjoy little things in life with them. They could be sad/worry for you when you were working too hard towards a goal, that you don't stop to fully celebrate your achievement or neglect your mental health. But at the same time, they know how this particular goal means to you, that's why they said nothing. They never want to stand between you and your goal, and would do anything they know to support you on this path. So instead, they make sure other aspect of your daily life is well taken care of. But yeah, there's a little blue like they wish you could just be more gentle with yourself at times. Like what's the point of all the hard work, if you won't let yourself win and enjoy the fruit?

Source for the art I used:

1. Moss by Melanie Miller

2. Warm stars as the dance by Henri Matisse (@plantbasedsav)

3. Art by @pixolotl on Instagram

4. Art by @turndecassette on Instagram

[florence-end]

Adriel chooses elain over his mate? And he regrets it.

She is happy with someone else.

Okay so I know a few people have done the Az/Lucien/reader/Elain triangle in an angsty way and I didn’t want to tread on any toes, plus I think the idea of platonic mates is super cute so Azriel doesn’t regret it in this and everyone is happy. I hope that’s okay!

“Hi Lucien, y/n. Thanks for coming,” Azriel greeted you as you walked into the dining room in the townhouse.

“No problem. It’ll be good to get this sorted out,” Lucien nodded, pulling out a chair for you before claiming the one beside yours.

Elain and Azriel sit opposite you both, looking as nervous as you felt.

Lucien had been courting you back home in the Spring Court for a few months, since you had been freed from Amarantha, when he had been dragged into Tamlin’s deal with Hybern that saw him meet his mate. Since then, Feyre had brought down the Spring Court, Lucien had taken you with him when he fled with the high lady back to her court and you had been living in an apartment Rhys found for you in Velaris ever since.

The already complicated situation had been made worse by your mating bond with Azriel immediately snapping into place when you first arrived a little over a month ago. However he and Elain had been developing quite the close relationship since she had been Made despite her bond with Lucien.

Ever the advocate for the mating bond, Feyre and Rhys had encouraged you all to put your existing feelings aside and give things an honest shot with your respective mates. And you had. Azriel took you on tours of the city, you went to the theatre and out for dinner, you got to know about his family and past, and in turn shared yours. Similarly, Elain and Lucien spent time reading together in the library and baking in the kitchens as she was still too nervous to venture far from her sister’s residences.

But despite your best efforts, you couldn’t muster up romantic feelings for Azriel in the way you could for Lucien and you knew he felt the same. You got along well and felt comfortable around each other, you even had a surprising amount in common. And yet you couldn’t shake the feeling that you were just spending time with a very good friend or even a brother, not a lover.

After finally admitting as much out loud to Azriel, he invited you and Lucien over to talk things through honestly with him and Elain. Which is what brought you to the townhouse today.

“I think we all agree this isn’t working,” you blurted out, knowing someone had to get the conversation started. “Az, I love you but not in the way that I should. Not in the way I love Lucien. I’ve really tried but it just feels different.” You immediately felt guilty for the abrupt way you voiced your feelings, which Azriel caught through your bond.

“Don’t feel guilty y/n, I feel exactly the same. I love you like the sister I never had, I want you to be safe and happy, but I want to be with Elain,” he admitted, reaching across the table to squeeze your hand and looking to Elain nervously.

As Elain voiced her similar feelings, Lucien let out the breath he felt like he had been holding for a month and relaxed back into his chair while slinging one arm across the back of yours.

“I think that settles it then. None of us will reject the bonds but we will stop trying to force romantic attachments that don’t exist. I have been in love with you for months, and I thought that would have to go away when I mated but it’s like my love for you and my love for Elain come from different places within me,” Lucien directed the last part to you and you smiled in relief.

After enjoying a nice dinner together, it was time for you and Lucien to call it a night. You hugged both Azriel and Elain goodbye, confirming your plans to see a symphony with Azriel in two days’ time, before strolling out onto the street. You weren’t going home with your mate, but you were hand in hand with the man you knew you’d marry one day.

[analexthatexists]

So about this whole “Reverting Nightmare back to Passive” stuff…

…Okay, I still emotionally fall for everyone this happens, but I’m also a little tired of how the reversion itself is done. I’m fine with the idea of Nightmare somehow transforming back into Passive, but the way it’s done is growing a little old to me.

Usually, it’s the corruption/goop melting away and revealing Passive’s body underneath it, safe and damage-free. And I like this idea, and I think it’s very cool from an artistic perspective, but…

…the number of times I’ve seen it is kind of shocking, maybe even ridiculous.

What doesn’t help is that, commonly in past versions of media, this change resulted from immense mental stress and guilt expressed by Nightmare, which is mischaracterization on plenty of levels. Nightmare should not feel guilt for the actions he’s made, especially when it comes to tormenting Dream. That’s…kind of why he’s the bad guy? That’s why Dream has to GROW AND ADAPT, realizing the Nightmare he saw as his brother is dead, so to suddenly reveal that Nightmare’s still there despite the corruption is…strange? I guess? So then what was the point of Dream’s adaption and growth? His whole character arc? Uncorrupting Nightmare can still work in favor of Dream’s arc, as the sudden whiplash of finally getting over his brother to his brother suddenly returning albeit with the constant threat of losing him again is…an interesting arc you could really work with if you’re good with writing. Additionally, Nightmare still retaining the mindset and personality of Corrupted yet having to deal with mortality and the sudden degrading of his power and Dream trying to help him work through it like he had to could make for something bittersweet. Dream would still have to accept that the original Nightmare is gone, but can still try and make the most of what remains of him, even if this “new” Nightmare will never come to accept his peace or comfort.

Over time, this concept of Passive visuals and visions within Corrupted Nightmare have changed, more so that Nightmare uses the visuals of Passive underneath him as methods of threatening and traumatizing Dream rather than signs of weakness or guilt. However, this is still not enough for me.

I want to torment this old man without the cliche “I feel sorry for everything I’ve done” routine. I want to make him suffer through mortality.

I believe I’ve seen this “Child Nightmare” idea that strips him of his power and presence, which while going through the same “reverting back to Passive with the goop melting away” process, it still differentiates itself by making the reason different; it doesn’t come from Nightmare experiencing guilt or regret and it happens out of his control.

Can someone please help me find that post by the way; I was trying to find and link it but I couldn’t and I forgot to like it :(

My take on a reversion AU would to, instead of having the goop wash away to reveal Passive underneath it, the opposite happens.

Let’s talk about The Lich from Adventure Time. He’s this big, menacing skeleton dude who means no good until Finn slaps him with whatever this gunk is, which begins making him grow organic matter and skin. This turns The Lich into a giant baby named Sweet Pea, who’s been (mostly) freed from his original self and ways. This was actually the thing that made me want to write all of this! The Lich and Nightmare already feel like very similar characters from how they act to parts of their design, so why not take this a step further?

Btw, that’s why I drew this ;)

Through unknown means, an outside force that could either be working alongside Dream or not curses Nightmare for whatever reason, suddenly forcefully (and rather painfully) sealing his body away into the body of the skeleton he had once killed for his own benefit. Have him live out the pains of mortality and despair that he had pushed Dream into without softening or hurting his characterization. Have him despise his newfound life, yet pushing help from others away even if it means he’s only hurting himself and his chances of turning back to normal. Have him use this form to his advantage to torment Dream, who’d still be on the path of getting over his brother’s death.

HAVE HIM. BE. A JERK.

Because regardless of looks, this is still the corrupted guardian of negativity we’re talking about. He may LOOK like he’s been redeemed, and that without his power and weakened negative aura he’ll be nicer and more anxious, but that doesn’t necessarily means he has to be nor is. Looks can be deceiving, silly! And he’ll use those looks to his advantage. And yes, he would be immensely weaker than he originally was, but like Dream, Nightmare too, will adapt. He was already good at manipulating and controlling others, but a more unassuming form has only benefited him in this regard.

Because who expects a helpless bully victim to be capable of killing?

It’s the same mistake that hundreds of people have died to in the past.

[somejazzinthemorning]

tightrope. 08.

Pairing: Carlos Sainz x Original Female Character Warning: Mature content. Word Count: ~16K Previous chapter: 07.

The light shone brightly through the large windows and it only took me seconds to feel the effects of a sleepless night. Minutes after getting out of bed, I wished I could crawl back and sink into the softness of my comforter and the scent of my lavender-sprinkled pillow.

Last night offered me no rest.

With each sip of coffee, memories of an eventful night came back to me in blurs. I could make out the unpolished lines on a man's face, whose filter had been diluted by whiskey and beer. He spoke without much thought for what he was saying, yet his words rang perfectly in my mind, echoing off the walls I had built up to guard myself against him and stinging me like a needle, striking deep within my soul.

I had no excuse to keep stepping back and forth.

It was time to step into his page. If he still wanted me to.

That feeling in my stomach, not the butterflies I would often associate with him, but the fear and regret, a guilt that shouldn’t have a place inside, far more bitter than the coffee I was sipping, left me shaken and a gentle peal of laughter rippled through my gut as if my consciousness was laughing at me.

My arms and legs were tingling, craving for movement to disperse all that energy and nerves I was storing up inside, but I had to console myself with a deep breath and the refreshing sensation of the cold pool water I was dipping my legs into, but it was late and I had a team call in a few minutes. I stayed on the edge of the pool for a while, gaze travelling between the horizon and the tiny waves my legs provoked on the water's surface when they moved and my attention all over the place, drifting back and forth to the memories of last night.

Before heading upstairs, I tried again. I took a deep breath, letting the air fill every corner of my lungs and hoping that when I released it, Carlos’ face, highlighted by the faint light, and the memory of his hoarse voice whispering my name, would be freed with it.

But they weren’t.

During my shower, my walk downstairs and even when I was logging in to the laptop to get my call started, it was still only him on my mind. His face, his plea, my name.

Eva.

Eva.

I leaned back in my chair and stared at my reflection on the screen. No one had logged into the call. My eyes drifted to one of the walls of the office and then to another, stopping on the shelf again.

The helmets, the books and photographs, the personification of a dream worth chasing.

I missed the thirteen-year-old girl I once was, whose only dream was racing and who was capable of doing everything to not abandon the track—back then, the first step was getting a seat in Formula BWM and racing Carlos again.

She never got it in time to race with him.

One morning we raced each other without knowing it would be the last. One morning, for the last time, we ran to the van, heavy backpacks on our shoulders and huge grins on our lips. One morning, for the last time, we got to lunch and proudly announced who had made the best time.

One morning was the last and maybe, with a bit of effort, I could find a date somewhere in my mind to pair it with, but I didn’t need to. Didn’t want to.

Even though we never raced for a real purpose and the winner never won anything but pride, we always gave it our all. The thrill of the competition and the passion for the sport strengthened the bond that the occasion had created. He was once just my brother’s friend, the neighbour boy that was, by chance, in his class, and so much more grew from that.

I’d fallen in love with racing at the same pace I’d discovered myself; his name and his face were a permanent feature in that process. Despite everything, he was part of me and my essence, especially the racing side of my identity.

And those helmets, the house, his words so full of hope, were making me find that side again. Find the girl I once was, that version of myself that time had taken away. I wanted to be that version, because of him and for him.

I grabbed my phone and searched for my dad’s last message.

“Morning. Get me a meeting with Deborah Mayer.” I sent him.

                                                        * 

As I packed my laptop into its case, vowing not to return to the office until the end of my vacation, I felt a bead of sweat trickle down my back. The day was getting hotter and even with the walls providing some protection, the midday sun was oppressive.

I glanced out of the window.

The backyard and the terrace were completely deserted. The chairs around the gazebo table were exactly as we’d left them the day before and Ana’s towel still hung on the back of one of the chairs. I couldn’t help but wonder if the rest of the group were still sound asleep in their beds or if they were too hungover to venture out into the heat of the day.

I got my answer the second I opened the door of the office, as I heard the sound of my brother’s voice echoing down the hallway. It seemed that no matter the situation, they had found a way to have some fun.

“Good morning, sleeping beauties," I said cheerfully as I entered the living space where both couches were occupied by my friends. Rio was stretched out on the corner of the big L couch, eyes closed and head on a soft pillow, with Marjorie’s head resting peacefully on his shoulder. On the smaller couch, Ana was focused on her phone, scrolling through something with a look of intense concentration.

She glanced up at me, her expression worn out, but with a hint of a smile tugging at the corners of her lips.

“I think they fell asleep again,” Ana said, leaning over the coffee table to retrieve her mug. Two other mugs sat on the tray atop the tiny table; the aroma of coffee mingled with the ocean breeze wafting through the open windows.

I picked up a pillow from the couch and threw it in my brother’s direction. “Good morning!” I repeated, this time a bit louder.

The pillow was still in the air when Carlos stepped in from the kitchen, white polo and navy shorts adorning his frame. He hadn't shaved yet and his hair was still wet. The sun’s rays hit his face, making his eyes appear brighter and highlighting the tiny portion of green in them.

“Morning,” he said.

He was holding a green bowl. I could see bits of granola on the surface of a white substance, likely yoghurt. My stomach growled. I didn’t have much for breakfast and I was famished. I smiled at the Spaniard and turned my face to the couple on the couch, now awake and sitting upright. Marjorie's hair was dishevelled and dark circles were visible under her eyes.

"How's that hangover treating you?" I asked her, sitting on the armrest of the couch; Carlos sat on the other side of the couch, gaze fixed on the TV.

“Still alive, so that’s a good sign,” she gave me a weak smile and leaned her head against Rio’s shoulder once more. “But I’m definitely feeling it.”

"Yeah, you definitely look like you're feeling it," I said as my brother kissed her forehead and she giggled at her own disgrace. I glanced at the TV for a second, the silence bothering me. “Anyways,” my eyes wandered through the room. I thought Ana had fallen asleep, but she quickly moved her head when I spoke. “What are the plans for today?”

“We talked about hitting the course,” Carlos replied, his eyes not leaving the TV for more than two seconds.

“Golf?” I turned back to Rio, almost begging for a change of plans. “Isn’t it too hot for that?”

He pinched both sides of his forehead and then the bridge of his nose, indicating that I may have spoken too loudly. “It’s not like we can go to the gym or a ride in a boat in this state. We’re leaving in an hour or two. It must be less warm by then.”

"Oh..." I glanced out of the window. The yacht was swaying on the waves and the sun was casting a bright line on the ocean. "I think I'll pass, but have fun.”

“No, no way!” Ana intervened. “We’re all going. You’re not going to spend the day alone.”

The other three exchanged looks and I knew right away that they were in agreement. I sighed and rolled my eyes.

"Fine," I said hesitantly. "I’m not playing, though.”

“Yes, you are!” Marjorie said, before yawning and stretching her arms up to the sky.  “I've already convinced these two to teach us how to play. You’re not bailing now."

I glanced over at Carlos, that just shrugged at me, and then to Rio. I couldn't help but notice the huge smile on his lips. He looked over at Marjorie, adoration clear in his eyes. “I married the right one,” he said with a satisfied nod.

"Golf it is, then," I said under my breath, defeated, and glanced at the kitchen archway. "I'll grab something to eat and get ready."

I turned on my heel, famished and frankly annoyed at the plans set for the day. The room had fallen silent again, with only the voice of one of the journalists on the TV audible. However, it changed when I stepped through the kitchen archway, as another set of footsteps followed mine. I spun around to find Carlos standing there, his empty bowl in his hands and the puffiness under his eyes setting a tired expression on his face.

My thoughts whirled around in my head. I had so many questions to ask him, ones that had been building up since last night and whose importance kept increasing. We were alone for the first time since the night before. I had every question on the tip of my tongue, but my courage slipped away. I didn’t even know if he remembered anything.

“You startled me,” I said before turning back around and entering the division.

The kitchen was empty and the only audible sound was the soft hum of the refrigerator and the chirping of some birds skirting on the window sill. While I walked to the refrigerator, Carlos stopped in front of the sink.

"There's a bowl for you in the fridge," he said. "I thought you might be hungry."

Oh?

"That's…” the gesture surprised me, but so many questions layered over the action. I forced a smile, not wanting to seem arrogant. “That’s very kind of you. Thank you."

There was a bowl in the fridge, with a generous helping of crunchy granola and dark chocolate chips floating atop the creamy yoghurt. Dark chocolate. His bowl didn’t have any dark chocolate. He added it to mine because he remembered I liked it.

“Hope it’s not soggy. You took a bit more than I expected.”

“They look fine. Thank you.”

Slowly, he turned back to the skin and started washing his bowl and a couple more mugs; I couldn’t help but let my gaze linger on the image as I approached him to grab one of the spoons he’d just washed from the dish rack. His face turned toward me and seconds later the sound of the water faded.

I sat down on one of the stools of the island counter, my attention shifting between him and the cereal, incapable of allowing my eyes to sit on him. Every time they caught a glimpse of him, the memories of the night before would appear.

But he didn’t have such a problem.

I could feel myself crumble under his eyes.

“About last night,” he broke the silence, voice so low it made me drift into another frequency. “I had a few too many drinks. I need to apologize.”

“That’s fine. Don’t worry.”

But then he bit his lip and after a fast nod, he spoke again. "I just want you to know that I never meant to make you feel uncomfortable. I don't want to come between you two—not that I could."

I was expecting an apology, but the intensity of his gaze surprised me. He grabbed the kitchen cloth on the counter in front of me and meticulously cleaned his hands. I shook my head, my voice barely above a whisper.

“No, we—” A pause. “I wasn’t—I didn’t— Nevermind.”

“I can… get you his number?" he offered, still cleaning his hands, his voice actually overlapping mine. “If you haven’t gotten it, yet.”

At this point, I don’t think we were even listening to each other. I paused for a moment, considering his words and waiting for him to listen to me. I knew he didn’t mean it. His clenched fits around the cloth told me that and much more.

I shook my head. “I don’t want that.”

Carlos nodded slowly, his expression puzzled. The line of his brows cast a shadow over his eyes. He leaned against the counter and crossed his arms in front of his chest.

“How many times do I have to ask you to not do that thing?” He frowned further. “Trying to read me. It feels like you’re actually inside my mind.”

He snorted. “Are you annoyed?”

I swallowed hard, the cereal was forgotten in front of me. It was clear that we were both tiptoeing around the elephant in the room, but I didn't know how to approach it. And, to be sure, I didn’t even know what it was, exactly. Was it the kiss? Was it his plea right before he fell asleep? Or was it simply the fact that we were both so obviously attracted to each other, regardless of anything else?

“I am.”

“Why?”

“How much do you remember from last night?”

“Enough.”

“Enough?” I tilted my head and he raised one of his eyebrows. “What does that exactly mean?”

“Means that I saw you kissing that guy.”

I nodded. “So you remember going there and asking me to come home?”

“I do.”

“So you should know why am I annoyed.”

“Eva, porfa—” He rolled his eyes, hands going to his hair and taking their time making their way through the strands. “What do you want me to tell you? I was drunk. Seeing him… You two together…”

“You have no reason to put on a show and get mad at me when you practically shoved me into his arms.” I took a long, deep breath. “And for a second, I was thankful when I saw you walk there, until the moment I understood why you were there.”

His eyes widened. “Thankful?”

“Are you that dumb?”

“You didn’t…?” I shook my head.

“No, you idiot.” I snapped at him. The deep shadow under his brows intensified, his jaw clenching at the same pace my words reached him. I could breathe the rage. “I didn’t want to kiss him. I probably gave him some mixed signals, but—”

“That fucking—” He mumbled, more to himself than to my ears and just as he pronounced those words, and I silenced mine, he took a deep breath. I didn’t remember the last time I heard him swear. “I’m sorry. I should have—”

“What?”

“Done something. I don’t know. I didn't mean to, but seeing you with him... I got a sense of possessiveness. I just wanted to take you out of there. For the wrong reasons?” he paused. “I’m not proud of it.” His eyes were closed, jaw locked and fits clenched. I bit the interior of my cheek, my stomach twisting in reaction to his affirmation. “And him… He’s not…”

“All this because you were so busy with some bimb—” He bit his lip, stopping his lips from curling into a grin. “Are you having fun with this?”

“I am, now.”

“What game are you playing?” He let go of his lip and his grin grew to its pinnacle. I had to take a deep breath to not say anything else. “Carlos.”

“What do you want me to say?” He shrugged. “Or else, to do? I can’t make it more clear, Eva.”

“We’ve talked about this. You’re not making this any easier. You’re being—”

“What?” He paused. “Selfish? I’m aware. I’m also aware you’re instigating every little feeling and emotion I tried to mute for years. I feel like I was fighting an addiction and now I’m on the verge of relapse.”

“You can’t—”

“I know I’m far from doing the right thing, but in two days you’ll be going back to Madrid and I’m not sure when or where I’ll see you again.”

“And?”

“I don’t want to feel like I missed my shot. Again.”

I couldn’t breathe. The air was too thick, too heavy and the floor was tilting under my feet. The way he said it, the way his lips curled into a smirk. God. The war that I was waging between my body’s needs and my mind’s fears again pushed its way to the front of my mind as soon as he said those words—in his eyes, I could sense the same turmoil I felt inside.

“You can either reject me and let me go, or you can be jealous of anyone around me. You can’t do both.” He said, voice so low and horse, a hint of tiredness warring on his features. “You need to make up your mind, Eva.”

"It would be easier to talk about it if I hadn’t already."

                                                        * 

“You’re masochists”, I said as we arrived at the clubhouse as a group, finally hiding from the heat and the sun that felt unbearable during the small walk there from the parking lot. “And probably stupid if you’re really thinking about playing in this heat.”

“Let’s get her some clubs,” Rio said to Carlos with a wink, just as he put a hand around my shoulders and dragged me to the reception. Although I tried to battle my way out of it, I couldn't escape without a bag on my shoulder and a white glove in my hand. Carlos seemed to be enjoying himself, his eyes twinkling as I pulled the glove onto my hand and did the strap around my fist.

“Suits you,” he said with a grin.

We made our way to the driving range and I was blown away by the sheer size of it all, from the magnitude of the manicured lawns and perfectly trimmed hedges of the green mantle ahead of me to the luxurious ambience that enveloped us. The sun cast a beautiful light over the grass and the air was dry and hard to breathe, but the shade of the driving range gazebo made it more tolerable.

“It won’t be so hot in here,” Carlos’s hand gently touched my lower back, as he guided me to one of the unoccupied benches in front of a free tee area. “Want something to drink?”

The rest of the group settled on the other benches and around the small green patches of grass. I looked around, absorbing the energy, wanting to be in the same frequency as all of them. Marjorie was far more excited than me and I certainly didn’t want to ruin the mood.

“A mojito,” I told him. It would definitely bring up my mood. “Or a mimosa.”

“No water?” I frowned at his question, quickly shaking my head.

“You want to stay here the whole afternoon and yet you offer me water?”

Carlos chuckled. "I'm sure we can find something like that around here," he said. “I’ll get you some water anyways.”

With a gentle nod, thanking him, I turned to the horizon, taking the opportunity to glance around the driving range, to take in the sights and sounds of the golfers around us and the white carts driving towards the 18-hole course.

"You're sure you really want to stay here?" I asked, turning my gaze back to him. Carlos had his arm and hand up, calling the attention of a young waitress. "I can go with you all out there, no problem.”

He frowned, shaking his head. "I want to stay here.”

“If you’re here just because I was complaining about the heat, we—”

“I’m here because I want to,” he paused, “and because Marjorie forced us to promise we would teach you two how to play.”

I twitched my mouth. "So you're really committed to that?"

"As much as you are to learning," he said with a wink, to which I just rolled my eyes.

“I think you’re mistaken. I just download two eBooks before coming here.” He laughed at my words.

The waiter eventually came over and Carlos ordered two fresh bottles of water and a mojito. The moment the girl left, he turned to me with palpable excitement. In his hands stood one of the clubs he’d grabbed from my backpack and, with a flourish, he passed it to me. I couldn't help but laugh.

“Wait,” I said and his gaze almost automatically looked up to meet mine. “Is all of this because I once called you professor?” I teased, whirling the club around in my hands. “Have you been dreaming about it ever since?”

Fighting a reaction, he just shook his hand towards the centre of the green patch ahead of us. “Come here,”  he ordered as he laid one ball on the tee, his voice holding some sense of authority. “Let’s start with the basics,” his hand motioned to the space between him and the ball. “Show me what you remember.”

My feet quickly took the same route his feet did before, making me stand between him and the small white sphere. Despite getting so close to him, close enough to hear the murmur of his breath, Carlos didn’t move.

“Can I help you with this?”

“Sure,” I said. Saddled with the pressure of his hands that quickly travelled to mine, I felt the warmth of his chest and the embrace his arms wrapped me in. After correcting my hands, he put both of his on the sides of my waist, moving them slightly. “You just need to bend the knees a bit more,” he indicated and my body responded with ease.

Carlos stepped away and moved closer to the bench. Enough to give me space, but close enough to me to remind me he was still here, which didn’t soothe my whole self still, which was left in disarray from the previous proximity. The wind blew gently, carrying with it the fresh scent of the ocean and the newly cut grass. Carlos's specs, perched atop his head, didn't prevent the breeze from lifting up the locks of his hair, blowing them back from his forehead.

“Relax the shoulders,” he instructed and with a nod, I shook my arms slightly, releasing the tension. “Go at it.”

Copying Marjorie’s gestures and recalling the lessons from my father years ago, I took a deep breath and slowly exhaled, feeling my body align with the club before I took a swing, the sound of the ball hitting the tee filling the air. I opened my eyes and saw the ball flying far away from me and my companions, who were cheering me on from the sidelines.

“Not bad,” the Spaniard said, passing by me to get another ball from the bucket. “Almost a natural at this.” He laid it at my feet and got up. “Next time, try to be focused on the ball and not the teacher.”

Something had changed. I couldn’t help but notice a spark of delight in his eyes or a hint of teasing in each of his words. There was a palpable energy between us, one I knew he was feeling too. I opened my lips to talk, a comeback already on the tip of my tongue, but with a sudden jolt, the sound of Marjorie’s club impacting the ball made him turn away.

"Oh my god!" She shouted, her eyes widening in amazement as the ball sailed across the sky, seemingly flying away. "Babe, do you see how far it went? Eva! Carlos! Did you see that?" She looked at me, then at Carlos.

I couldn't help but smile at the sight of Marjorie's joy. "That was good!" I said. "But don't get too cocky. I'm sure I can make my ball go farther than yours," I winked at her and turned to Carlos. "Make me better at this."

The Spaniard raised an eyebrow, lips shaping into a confused smile. He looked around and all it took was to look at Rio, whose expression instigated him to join in, for Carlos to shift his own. "Now you're interested?”

"As you said the other day,” Marjorie patted Carlos on the arm, as she walked towards the bucket of balls laying at Carlos’ feet. “All it takes is a bit of competition and Eva gets motivated."

He chuckled; a deep, throaty sound that made me smile. “I can see that. The goal is beating Marjorie?”

I shrugged. “The goal is to not totally suck at this.”

Carlos walked over to me, his strides were more conscious and assertive than before. “You beat Marjorie, you decide how, where and when to celebrate your victory. If she wins, we have dinner tonight.” I raised my eyebrow.

“How does that sound?” His eyes searched mine for an answer.

I met him head-on. “I can get behind that.”

“Good,” he seemed satisfied with my response, giving me only a gentle nod before gesturing towards the ball. Carlos stepped back, close enough so I could still hear his instructions and corrections, but far enough from the angle of my movements.

Glancing at the couple in front of me, I saw Rio move away from Marjorie and walk towards Carlos. Marjorie was looking down, holding her stance.

After positioning both hands on the pockets of his shorts, my brother glanced at me. “Ready?” I nodded. “Go ahead, girls.”

For the first time in a while, I wasn’t totally sure I wanted to win. Despite this, my heart beat rapidly in my chest and I wasn’t sure why. I faced the white sphere, my body inching forward. I closed my eyes and swung the club, feeling the tension leave my shoulders as the ball flew through the air. When I opened my eyes, I saw it soaring high, farther than I expected it to go.

With a loud thwack, Marjorie’s ball cut the sky. I wasn’t sure how to react when her ball flew higher and farther than mine. She knew exactly how to react, cheering in delight and wrapping her arms around Rio, who joined her to celebrate.

I glanced over at Carlos, his nose scrunched up as his eyes searched the green mantle in front of us, too bright from the direct sunlight. “That was impressive!” He clapped once, his enthusiasm adorable and contagious. He then raised his hand towards Marjorie, who was still giggling when she raised her hand to high-five him.

God, how can this man make this mildly interesting sport into something actually enjoyable?

“Yours was not bad, Eva,” my brother said, a slight smirk playing at the corners of his mouth. I had to lift my eyes from where I was already bent down, preparing to place another ball on my tee, to look up at Rio. “But I’m sorry to say, I think this might be the first sport you will fall behind us in.”

I sighed and stood up, adjusting the pleads of my skirt. "Don't push it.”

Carlos chuckled, the sound bringing a sense of calm. "Alright," he said, patting my brother on the back before turning to me. "Ignore him and focus on me.”

Not difficult, I wanted to say.

Once again, he positioned himself behind me, this time not asking anything before his hands settled on my waist. I felt a slight shift as he adjusted my posture, the sensation of his fingers brushing against the skin of my thigh through the fabric of the cotton skirt.

"I don't think I need any more help," I said, my voice quiet, but he still remained close, his presence a tangible reminder of the tension that lingered in the air.

“I do,” a pause. He patted my thigh with two fingers. “Spread your legs.”

Oh.

Carlos was closer than I anticipated, his words brushed against my earlobe and set on fire a darker side of my mind that was awakened by that command. I complied; what else could I do? I would have taken over the world if he had asked me to.

“A bit more,” his fingers continued there. Then, he patted my skin once again. “Perfect. Now, your grip,” he continued. His voice was so stern and unwavering, I almost felt anger at his composure in this situation. Carlos moved his hands, now firmly on top of mine as he corrected the angle of my fists. “Keep them like this when you lean forward. Don’t bend them back like you were doing before.”

And he stepped back.

The scent of sandalwood vanished and the comfort of his chest departed with it.

It felt cold even under the almost 30-degree sun.

I leaned forward, turning my face in his direction, looking for his approval. Before giving me a slight nod, he regarded me for a couple of seconds. His eyes were set away from my face and not quite on my hands. Was he looking at me? At my ass?

“Like this?” I asked and his gaze quickly met mine. It was only then that he nodded.

“Keep your grip light, but not too relaxed. You need to have control over the club.” A pause. “Swing once or twice before hitting. Pronto?”

“Pronto,” I answered before shaking my arms and getting into position. “Ready when you are, Marge.”

Marjorie’s ball was the first to take flight, soaring away and disappearing into the bright blue sky. My swing took a few more seconds and, despite all the effort and focus I put into making it a great hit, a high-pitched cheer from my right made it clear that my drive was still not as impressive as hers.

“Closer, but not quite there, yet,” Rio said, a playful smile on his face as he glanced over at me. “If we hang around here for the rest of the day you'll eventually get the hang of it.” He paused and I turned around to go have a sip of the mojito waiting for me at a small table. “Or you just suck at this and no time in the world will be enough.”

I flipped him off, my lips busy with the straw, sucking in the fresh drink. Rio chuckled at my response and I rolled my eyes in response, a smile tugging at my lips. Carlos stepped forward and took one club from his bag, turning his attention towards Rio.

"Alright, let's see what you’ve got," Sainz said, shaking his head. "You've been talking a lot, but I haven't seen you do anything yet."

Rio's face lit up in response to the challenge, his competitive spirit visible in the way he stepped up to his bag and took one of the clubs. His strides were confident when he walked towards the tee, face scrunched up in intense focus.

With a steady swing, he hit the ball and it flew far into the horizon. He let out a satisfied “Ha!” before turning to his best friend.

“Show me what you got, Chili,” my brother said with a victorious grin on his lips.

Carlos raised his eyebrows, his expression one of amusement. "Sure you don't want to give me any advice?"

Rio shrugged and Marjorie walked towards me, taking one of the bottles of water the waitress had left near her stuff. As I focused on my sister-in-law, the banter from the guys filled the background. She sat on my bench and crossed her legs.

“You seem excited,” she said, her hand aligned with her eyebrows as she tried to look at me, positioned between her and the sun.

“You’re wrong. I’m being humiliated,” I chuckled and as a loud thwack filled the air, I looked back to see Carlos’ ball cross the sky. He winked at me before turning back to Rio.

Rio gave a low whistle, his eyes still on the horizon, and shook his head in wonderment. "That was some good stuff," he said in admiration. I turned back to Marjorie, but Rio’s words made me pay attention to him once more. "You found yourself a good teacher, sis. If only he was as good at teaching as he is at playing…”

Rio's words lingered in the air and I felt a sudden tension arise between Carlos and me. I couldn't help but feel a little embarrassed for the way my brother had said it, but, as it seemed to be the norm, Carlos appeared unfazed.

"Eva is a tough one to teach," he gestured to the tee area. I left the mojito on its coaster and grabbed my club before walking towards him, ready to find out what he had in store for me. "She's a bit stiff, you know?" He continued, tapping my arms with his fingers. "These arms," he added, poking them gently, "and these abs," he continued, poking the sides of my waist, making me giggle due to the ticklish sensation. "They need work. She’s been lazy."

Marjorie looked at us with a crease between her brows and then at Rio with a more confused expression. Ana was also looking over at us and even from a distance, I could notice her confusion. The corners of my mouth instantly turned up in a self-conscious smile and I straightened my posture, still trying to process the giggle that had just escaped my lips.

Carlos, seemingly unaware of the commotion he had caused, guided me to the centre of the tee area and stepped back. He corrected some flaws he had noticed in my stance. “Three more hits. Make me proud,” he said

My heart fluttered at the challenge and I nodded in agreement, my mind set on not totally sucking at this game. If I couldn’t beat Marjorie, I wanted to be almost there. After another deep breath and a swing of the club, my eyes fixed on the ball as it flew away. When I opened them, the ball was soaring high and I let out a victorious hoot.

"That's more like it!" Carlos said, clapping his hands in approval. "Again."

I repositioned myself onto the tee, feeling a renewed sense of determination. My feet moved in place, adrenaline rushing from the handle and taking me whole. I closed my eyes, took a deep breath and swung the club with all my might. The sound of the club hitting the ball filled the air and when I opened my eyes, I saw the ball flying far away from me.

"That was a great hit!" Carlos said, his voice filled with enthusiasm. He stepped forward and patted my back, his hand lingering for a few seconds. "Last one. It’s all or nothing.”

My determination was evident in my stance, but I gave him a gentle nod before I bent over to pull another ball from the bucket. The Spaniard stepped back, siding with Rio who, just like him, had his arms crossed over his chest. While Marjorie arranged her hat, tidying up the ginger strands of hair under the white brim, I adjusted the band of my skirt around my waist.

The faux leather glove was not comfortable and my hand was sweaty under the warm material.

“Ready?” Marjorie looked over her shoulder.

“As I’ll ever be,” I gave her a tiny smile.

All the distractions faded away, vanishing from my mind as my gaze fixed on the end of the field ahead of me. My arms felt relaxed yet in control. My focus was on the ball and the horizon and not on Carlos’ arms, which had been around me moments ago. Not on his low, warm voice against my ear. Not on his hands, on top of mine, handling me like a doll.

Joder.

Marjorie had already hit her ball and I was still there, my mind so preoccupied with pushing away all the distractions that the main one made me freeze in place.

Focus, Eva.

I took a deep breath and shook my arms, trying to get rid of the tension, but I was too deeply immersed in the warm comfort his presence had evoked in my body and the traps my subconscious had set up for me.

Maybe I never intended to win. The look on Carlos' face, the undertone in his eyes when he saw my ball fall into the grass and noticed Marjorie had won, giving him the privilege to control our night, made me wonder why I had even tried.

                                                        * 

“Olivia is asking for you,” Marjorie sat to my right, on one of the foldable chairs me and Rio had carried to the pier some day before. She handed me the phone, where my niece’s face was plastered into.

“Tia Eva!” Olivia, my three-year-old niece said, her hands extended to the screen and a huge smile on her tiny face, revealing her imperfect denture. Adorable.

"Hi there, baby," I said, waving to the camera. "Where's Grace?"

My mom, holding the phone behind the camera, pointed it to the other side of the room. There, my niece was sitting on the floor, playing with a pile of books. I chuckled, my heart melting at the sight.

"Are you two behaving?" I asked. My niece answered with two nods of her head, making her pigtails swing. "Is Grammie behaving too?"

She scrunched her nose and looked over the camera, probably at my mom. "Grammie gave us ice cream from the store.” After speaking, she quickly brought up her finger to her lips. “Don't tell Mom."

From behind the camera, my mother asked the same thing. Marjorie, just two steps away, had already heard it. Ignoring her mad face, I turned my attention to the little girl on the screen.

“Can you give a kiss to Grace for me?” Olivia's face lit up with a smile and she got up from the floor. “Liv, you don’t need to— Okay, you’re doing it now.”

Reaching Grace, Olivia got on her knees and planted a kiss on her sister’s forehead, whose face instantly brighten up. "Fatto!” She screamed from afar.

A shadow fall on my back and when I looked down to the corner of the screen to see who was shielding me from the sun, my eyes met Carlos' grinning face. His head was hovering just above mine.

“Hola, señoritas,” Carlos said with a warm smile and the two faces on the screen shifted to meet his gaze. “Your papa told me you asked about me. Here I am.”

“Chili!” Olivia shouted, while Grace just jumped in her place. Liv, the most easygoing of the two got closer to the screen, the excitement in her voice growing louder with each step. “Papá said your house is big and you have a boat, and a pool, and the whole sea.”

Carlos gave a hearty chuckle, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "It's true," he said, nodding his head in affirmation while taking the phone out of my hands. "But we’re not having much fun. This it's nothing compared to when I visit."

Grace shook her head, still seated in the back. “Grammie doesn’t have a boat,” she murmured with a sigh, her eyes wide with amazement.

My gaze turned to Marjorie, who was just smiling at the image of Carlos with her phone in his hand, walking around the pier and showing the Riva yacht to the twins. He seemed to be convincing them that we were not having too much fun and it was evident that he was succeeding in his mission.

“Does he visit a lot?” I asked Marjorie, my back meeting the back of the foldable chair again.

Her clear eyes drifted from the Spaniard and turned back to me. "Almost every time he’s at home." She paused and looked back at the image of Carlos, her voice softening. "They are crazy for him."

He smiled and his gaze shifted to me. His expression softened and I felt a warmth embrace me that I hadn't felt in a long time.

"I got that idea at my mom’s birthday party,” I said, still following his strides over the pier, the adorable sight and sound of his excited voice talking to the twins. “When I saw them so comfortably waking and being around him, Olivia’s tiny hand on his hair… my heart melted.”

“Of envy or—”

“Don’t be stupid,” she laughed and I hit her on the arm.

Marjorie turned her chair to me. I didn’t need to be a psychic to guess what she was about to say. “You’re getting along well,” and there it was. I rolled my eyes. “Although you almost tricked me last night, kissing the German guy.”

"Yeah, let’s not talk about that," I said, my gaze on Carlos and my attention on the sound of his voice carrying over. He was telling the twins a story, his intonation and gestures making it more vivid. Blue shorts, with tiny single-seaters printed on them, and a rose gold iPhone in his hand.

A gentle tug at my arm distracted me. I turned in Marjorie’s direction, only to find her smiling at me.

"You have to admit," she said, a soft glint in her eyes. "He's pretty charming."

And if it was a movie and he was aware of his cues, he laughed at something and I couldn’t help but smile at the sight. Carlos had a way of making everything seem so easy.

“Where is this coming from?” I asked her, “Why this sudden interest? Last Friday you were asking me to ignore him the whole week because you needed, and I quote, a nice drama-free week with your dearest hubby.”

She sighed. “I’ve seen the way you both look at each other and last night… I could have been drunk, but I clearly noticed how pissed he got when he saw you with the other guy.”

“His name is Uwe,” I added.

“Him,” she shrugged. “The second I saw Carlos’ face… I knew you were not telling me your whole story.”

I cleared my throat and tried to shake away the sudden feeling of being exposed, of the truth being unveiled. "Marjorie," I said, my voice barely above a whisper. "We are just friends."

Her eyebrow raised and she gave me a knowing smile. "Right," she said, her voice softening. "That's what you two keep saying." She looked over at Carlos, her gaze lingering a bit too long, before turning back to me with a knowing smile. "The way you look at each other, though…” she let out a long, dramatic sigh. “The eyes, chica, they don’t lie.”

“Ugh,” I grunted, defeated, dragging my hands over my face. “You’re so annoying. What do you want me to say?”

Marjorie's gaze softened and she smiled. "I'm not asking you to say anything. Just be honest with yourself." She gestured to Carlos, who was still playing with the twins and nodded her head in his direction. "Look at him. What do you see?"

I sighed, my gaze still fixed on Carlos. He was holding the phone in one hand and the other was now in his hair. With slow steps, he approached my brother and sat by his side under the shade of the gazebo, the phone in front of them both.

“A devilishly handsome man in ridiculous swimming trunks talking on the phone with two toddlers and somehow sounding more childish than them.”

Marjorie smiled, her eyes twinkling with amusement. "What I heard was: a man who, despite his tough exterior and terrible communication skills, is a gentle and caring soul who understands you, loves your family like his own, and is willing to put in effort for you.”

She looked at me with a victorious grin.

“Manipulative bitch,” I whispered under my breath, a comment to which she responded with a strident laugh.

“You think I don’t know what I’m doing?” Marjorie asked me with a playful glint in her eyes. She leaned back in her chair, the sun playing with her red hair, making it look like a flaming halo around her head.

“I think you do,” I said, my lips curving into a smile. “But it doesn’t make it any less annoying.”

“You’ll thank me later,” she said, her voice softening. “Now go talk to him.”

“Later,” I said, standing up and fixing the strings of my swimsuit. “We’re having dinner together.”

And before I turned around to make my way to the gazebo to talk with my brother who was, once again, alone, I had the opportunity to witness the almost impeccable “o” shape that Marjorie's lips had formed.

The sun was still high, but the dusky colours of the sunset were already starting to paint the firmament. My eyes scanned the surroundings as I traced the cement of the pier, the small rocks and the sand hurting the bare skin of my feet. I missed these long sunsets and the easy-going life by the sea. The casual conversations, the banter, the small routine we’d constructed for ourselves.

It was all so easy.

The warmth of the setting sun and the sound of the waves against the pier were the perfect background melody to the conversations that so easily flowed. My brother’s laughter mingled perfectly with the engine of the jetskis roaring in the distance. I touched his shoulder before sitting on an empty chair in front of him.

Carlos, sitting next to him, raised his eyes from his phone, his lips forming a faint smile. Marjorie’s iPhone was now balancing on Rio’s leg.

"Did they finally let you go?" He frowned, not quite understanding the question at first before realisation dawned on him.

"Your mother had to bribe them with ice cream, actually," he said, taking a sip of the Estrella Galicia he was holding in his other hand. "I'm sorry for stealing them away from you; I didn’t let you finish talking."

"Oh, don't worry about it,” I raised my hands, shanking them in front of me. “I talk to them every day, it's no big deal."

A gentle nod of the head and a raspy sound came from Rio, who cleared his throat. “Are you finally filling me up about the email I got from Dad?”

I paused for a moment. “Email? Actually, Dad’s why I came here.”

“Do you need me to—” Carlos stepped forward, pointing at the sea before standing up and taking Marjorie’s iPhone from Rio��s leg. “I’ll take this to Marjorie,” he said, his voice calm and assured. His eyes then shifted to me. “Can you be ready in one hour?”

Rio’s confusion was evident, as his eyes moved between the two of us. “For what?”

I shook my head in response, my eyes going back to Carlos, already walking towards Marjorie. “Not at all. Where are we going?”

The question lingered in the air, unanswered, as Carlos continued his journey towards Marjorie.

My brother seemed to notice the lack of response, looking between the two of us in confusion. “Where are you two going?”

Carlos only responded with a simple command. “Just grab a sweater then,” he told me. “I’ll be back soon.”

A feeling of uncertainty filled me as I watched him disappear down the corridor, leaving Rio and me behind. With his back now facing me in the shadow, I could see in full resolution the muscles glistening under the sun, the soft breeze lifting the dark strands of his hair up in the air. He sat where I was sitting a minute ago and before I could pay attention to what he was saying to Marjorie, Rio called for me.

I turned to him. “I don’t know either.”

But God, how I was dying to know.

"So then," he gestured with his hand. "The email…?”

“Right,” I exhaled and sat upright. “What email?”

“Dad sent me an email. You apparently want a meeting with Deborah Mayer?”

“I don’t know if it’s a fit, but The Iron Dames seem like a good first step to reenter the scene,” Rio nodded. “I’m looking at F3, too. I need to do something. Find a place. They can help.”

“Oh,” he moved in his seat, his hands landing on the armrests of the beach chair. “F3? Dad won’t like that. He started to ramble about you’re seat at WEC, and—”

“Rio,” my brother looked at me. “Don’t ask me why, but I want to do something. I want to do something. And I don’t care if Dad is behind me on it, but I can’t feel like this while racing. I’ve spent the last year trying to understand why I feel so… lost. I love the team, I loved The Challenge, but that was not what I was fighting for.”

“F3 is?”

“F1 is.” I paused. “F3 is the first step.”

“Eva, you’re aiming high…” he started. “I get it. You need to find your passion again. But are you sure this is the right move?”

“I don’t know,” I replied honestly.

“And if he says no?”

“Why would he?”

We sat in silence for a few moments, the only sound of the sea lazily kissing the shore. I thought about my father and his expectations for me. Wondered what he said in the email he apparently sent to Rio. At that point, I hadn’t heard anything from my father after my text. I can’t complain about him. Dad had always been supportive of my racing career, but he also had his own agenda. He wanted me to be a champion and win races. “You either win or lose.” I heard him say time and time again. But racing wasn’t just about winning. Racing is not just about winning—it is about the thrill of the competition, the rush of adrenaline, and the feeling of being alive.

Rio knows that.

"I know it's a risk. And it could be a waste of money. And could go terribly wrong but—”

“Breath,” my brother said. Understanding writing in his eyes. “I get it. I was there once.”

“What did Dad say in the email?”

“It’s not worth it to repeat,” his lips drew a fragile smile. "It sounds like you've decided.” He leaned back in his chair and took a sip of his Estrella Galicia. “What do you need me to say?”

The corner of my lip kicked up in a subtle way and his did the same, a slight smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

"You know… just that typical big brother stuff. You can always call me, you’re capable of that and so much more… I'll be by your side no matter what… " I said with a shrug, gesturing with my hands, imitating his Italian gestures that, for some reason, he had picked up from my dad to a degree that I hadn't managed. He chuckled softly, as though he had been privy to my thoughts.

Rio's eyes softened and he gave me a small nod of approval. "Of course, I will," he said. "You know I'm always here for you, Eva. Besides," he added. "I'm sure Carlos would be a great help too."

“I don’t want to go there…”

“What I mean is that he’s always been a great support for you before. You work well together, or— used to. He knows the field. He knows the people. He can help. Mayer can help you, but I’m sure you can also find some support in Ferrari. You’ve won their championship… But don't forget—Carlos is the one who got you interested in the sport in the first place." He paused and gave me a pointed look. "And he's the one who has been in the industry for years. He can give you great advice. Don’t be too stubborn. Use the help, open as many doors as you can." He reached over and squeezed my hand gently. "And you know I'm always here for you, too.” He paused. “See? I can do the big brother bullshit too.”

“So caring,” with an eye roll, I gently slapped his hand. “So, you think I won’t fuck this up?”

"You? Fuck it up? Nah, never," he shook his head and gave me a reassuring smile. "You got this."

The words lingered in the air for a while and I was at a loss for what to say. Motorsport-wise, Rio had been my rock ever since the first day I set foot on the track. Carlos had been there with him too, clutching my hand and making me laugh on our way home when things didn’t go as I expected them to.

Both of them had been there for more than ten years, supporting me on and off track. Better, we’ve been there for each other. And even if I’d lost a major pillar somewhere along the way, which hurt like hell, we were collectively working on rebuilding it.

A wave of gratitude washed over me when I laid my eyes on my brother. Reaching out, I grabbed his hand.

“Thank you,” I let out. “I’m sorry for not making it easier for you to have this same conversation with me months ago.”

Rio shook his head, a gentle smile playing on his lips. "It's okay. It's all part of growing up, I guess." He glanced around the pier, taking in the sight of the sun setting, the laughter of the others, and the feeling of warmth that filled the air. He gave my hand a gentle squeeze. “I knew the island air would help you figure out a thing or two.”

The corner of my lips tugged up in a gentle smile as I looked at my brother, my hand still in his. On my palms, the warmth of his skin spelt a confirmation of his presence and companionship. I knew he was right from the moment I’d stepped on that plane.

Ever since then, I was invited to see the world from a new perspective and new paths unravelled in front of me. Whether I’d chosen to trace the right ones, I was yet to discover, but at least, I felt ready to try.

                                                        * 

The sun was still high, but the dusky colours of the sunset were already starting to paint the horizon. The wind was gentle and it brought the smell of the sea to my nose and played with my hair, which caressed my face.

My eyes scanned the surroundings as I traced the cement of the pier, the small rocks and the sand hurting the bare skin of my feet. I sat on the pier, my legs hanging down from it, toes pointed at the water, being kissed by the occasional splashes Rio provoked, riding Carlos’ electric surfboard a few feet away.

My brother’s contagious laughter mingled with Marjorie’s screams of joy, as she cheered him from a smaller boat owned by the Sainz. The other four accompanied her—Ana filming Rio, as he crossed the mirror of water effortlessly. I closed my eyes, my entire being encapsulated in that moment, and attempted to block out the nerves.

Carlos’ yacht, a gleaming beauty, moored in front of me. Its brown hull shone brightly in the sunlight and gentle waves kissed its shell. I just waited, impatient. My heart raced in my chest, filling me with a warmth that had nothing to do with the setting sun.

Every couple of minutes, I glanced at the other end of the pier, scanning the backyard and trying to see in between the branches of the trees, trying to spot him. Carlos had texted before I left my room, after brushing my wet, salty hair and exchanging my sun dress with wet patches around my breasts and sand trapped in the cotton fibres for a new, cleaner one.

“Wait for me at the pier. I’m a little late,” he had written.

And despite the fact that I’d replied to him with a breezy “No problems!”, I had a lot of problems.

It was Carlos who I was meeting, for a date at sunset, probably in his yacht, to discuss the feelings none of us seemed capable of wanting to hide or deny. My sixteen-year-old self would be dying for something remotely like this. That thought alone made me smile.

Raising my head and turning it to my right, once more wishing to end this waiting game, my eyes finally caught a glimpse of a man. Bare feet on the grass, a white t-shirt and navy blue trunks with the white Formula Ones printed on them, a brown wicker basket in one hand and a bouquet of daisies in the other.

I got up, my eyes never leaving the flowers and the man carrying them.

My breath caught in my throat and I couldn't help but smile as I watched Carlos approach me, a gentle breeze lifting his dark hair, his eyes twinkling.

"I’m so sorry, it took more time than I was expecting," he said, his voice deep and reassuring. He extended the bouquet of daisies in my direction. "I brought you these.”

I took the bouquet with my free hand. The other one was too busy clenching the fabric of my jumper.

"Thank you," I said, my lips curving into a smile as I brought the bouquet closer, inhaling its sweet scent. “What took you so long? If you don’t mind me asking.”

He raised the basket he was holding and crossed the distance between the pier and the yacht. “The food.” Carlos left the basket on one of the seats and came back to the end of the boat with his hand extended to me. “I thought we could enjoy a picnic at sea.”

My hand felt so light when I found his touch. His fingers wrapped around my hand so gently and effortlessly and he helped me get in. Then, his hands travelled to my waist, navigating me around. I laid down the flowers on top of the basket, the sweater on the back of one of the seats and leaned against it while Carlos got the boat ready.

Of everything I’d imagined for our dinner, this was not it. This was romantic.

The flowers and the wicker basket. The sweater and the breeze that became more chilly with each passing second. The smell of the food and the pastel colours that the sunset was bringing into the atmosphere. All of that transported me into a dream.

After undoing one more set of ropes and throwing them to the pier, where they fell with a silent thud, he turned to me and motioned to the seat in front, beside the one in front of the helm. I settled in before he reached the helm.

Carlos glanced at me before turning the key on the ignition. The engine roared to life, the vibrations rippling through the air, shaking up the loaded atmosphere. It felt so dumb. I felt dumb. I couldn’t look at his hands, steering the boat, without it bringing my whole body to the edge of self-combustion. To worsen my condition, I dared to look at his face.

Pure joy and excitement radiated from him. His clenched jaw and focused frown softened as the boat picked up speed and we cut the water with ease, away from the Sainz’s backyard. When I remembered to look back, the house was a blur and my friends were tiny dots in the sea.

Carlos was the only subject I could focus on.

The warmth of the sun soaked into my bones. The sky was painted with a beautiful hazy pink and pastel orange. Everything was bathed in a soft golden aura, my mind included. I smiled to myself, feeling so at peace with the world.

My anticipation dissipated as we were carried away by the motions of the boat.

The orange pastels reminded me of a drunk man and his words.

And the feelings he so easily brings out of me.

And the idea that if we were to fall, at least we would fall together.

Two high cliffs rose majestically to our left. The sun slowly set to the right, painting a beautiful tapestry in the sky with its golden hues, even if it was still far from touching the water.

It was magical.

The roar of the engine. The colours. The company.

Carlos cut the engine and the boat slowed down, the silence an eerie sound in the background. I allowed myself to take it in. My eyes roamed around the land, the steep cliffs and the houses planted by the sea, taking in the light, like lazy cats under the sun.

My attention was drawn by the man next to me, who took a step away from the helm and turned to me. The corner of my lips curled up into a small smile when I saw him sitting on one of the seats, back turned to the cliffs and eyes focused on me.

My fingers covered my face, my only shield against his piercing gaze. “Stop that, Sainz.”

He chuckled. “I’m literally just sitting here.”

I shook my head and laughed in response. "You know what I mean," I said. I took a deep breath and sighed. "It's really pretty around here," I said, my voice soft and my gaze turned towards the cliffs.

"Yes, it is," Carlos said softly, his eyes still on me. He paused for a moment before continuing. "The perfect place for a date, I'd say." His voice was light and teasing, but his eyes were serious like he was daring me to contradict him.

“This is not a date, though. Just a dinner.” The curve of his lips grew bigger and his grin wider. “But I know what you mean. Couldn’t be better.”

“Shall we eat?” Carlos suggested, getting up.

My eyes slowly drifted to the basket and the flowers on top of it. The bouquet was strewn around by the wind, its petals scattered, yet somehow still creating an organized chaos of its own. Carlos gently laid it on the white cushion of the seat and picked up the basket, carrying it to the back of the boat, where I watched him, still in silence. He then sat on the aqua-blue sun bed and motioned for me to join him.

Trying to be careful not to disturb his careful arrangement, I tip-toed around him and settled in.

“Do you need any help?” I asked, looking up at him with a smile, eager to be of assistance.

“No, sit and enjoy,” he replied, focused on his task. His eyes didn’t even lift to find me.

Wine, two stemless glasses, grapes, croissants and cinnamon rolls. In his hands, a glass container with figs and honey. He arranged the items carefully around the small linen towel he had spread, before unpacking the basket. My eyes followed each and every one of the movements.

“I didn't want to put pressure on you to get ready for a fancy restaurant, but I also didn't want to settle for a basic dinner,” he explained, holding up the bottle of wine. “Wine?” He offered with a hopeful smile.

“Oh, yes, please,” I replied, sliding my glass closer to him. Carlos quickly grabbed the corkscrew from the basket and opened the bottle of wine with ease, before filling in my glass. “Where did you get all of this?”

“The market from the other day. Went there to pick up some fruit and found a lovely bakery. I had to wait a long time for the croissants, though.” He filled his glass, as well. Only then I took mine to my lips. “They were still in the oven when I got there.”

“That way I can apologize to you for being late,” he looked at me, a small chuckle coming through his thick lips. Laying down the glass on the towel, I took another bite of the pastry. “These are so good.” I looked at the small croissant in my hands, and then back to him, again. His eyebrows were raised as he looked at me attentively, lips shaped in a smile. “You should go and get them for breakfast tomorrow as well,” I teased.

“Eh!” I chuckled in response to the indignation in his tone. “Don’t push it.”

"I'm just making a suggestion," I held my hands in front of me in defence and then extended my hands to grab a piece of cheese, which I popped into my mouth. Then, I took another sip of the wine. The fruity notes of the rosé filled my mouth. “Hum…” I swirled the wine around my mouth; so familiar.

“Good?” He asked, eyebrow raised and a smirk on his lips.

“I know this one,” I reached for the bottle and read the label in front of the peony-pink liquid. “You’re getting better at picking bottles!”

"Yeah, I thought you'd like this one," he said, scooping a spoonful of the figs and honey. "I finally paid attention to your dad's lessons.”

"Really?" Carlos nodded in response, his eyes softening as he savoured the figs. I couldn't help but notice the way his lips glistened with honey, reflecting the light of the sun. “I’ll remember to tell him that.”

I turned my gaze away from him, towards the water and the cliffs towering behind him.

The atmosphere was so light that our words didn’t linger around us; instead, the conversation flowed like the breeze. We made our way through the food and the bottle of wine, getting lost in time and the casual conversation. The pastries were the central point of our interest, baked by the sweet old lady that owned a store not too far away from the house, which she had even wrapped in a pretty box for us. Carlos had left the box inside the basket, but just glancing at the small carton box and the purple ribbon around it made me smile.

Not because I was scared to touch the subject, but because I didn’t want to burst the bubble, we refrained from talking about anything outside of the contours of the island. We pretended to not know what lay behind the horizon. I thought that perhaps he felt the same feeling I was cradling inside my ribcage, the need to be locked in this private paradise, almost like a fort, shielding us from all of the chaos and uncertainty that was happening outside.

We both allowed ourselves to be swept away by the moment; the sun slowly setting behind us, the food slowly disappearing from the linen towel. We talked, we laughed, and we shared, just like two normal people, away from the eyes of the world, enjoying a moment of pure bliss.

It felt like a dream.

At some point, Carlos leaned back, supporting himself on his elbows, and scanned the sky, staring off into the distance. His eyes moved slowly across the horizon, taking in the setting sun and the array of colours that painted the sky. The light fell on his face, so golden, casting the shadow of his eyelashes on his cheeks. The soft, cool breeze gently whipped his hair. He must have noticed the way I had been looking at him because when he turned to me, a knowing smirk was on his lips.

"I'm planning on taking you out to a proper dinner, you know?" I raised an eyebrow at that and tried to stop the smile of anticipation from appearing on my lips. "The day you finally let me take you on an official date, I mean," he clarifies nonchalantly and lays lay down completely, the back of his head resting on his hands. "I'll wait.”

“Never thought you would be so patient, Sainz,” I teased while snatching a grape from the cluster in front of me.

The Spaniard smiled and shook his head. "You make it sound like I'm desperate," he laughed. "But I do have some patience." A pause. "I think it has its limits, though.”

My eyes scanned his face, my mind racing with thoughts of the night before. His poor behaviour and the words that had come out of his mouth without a filter. The dim orange light, being mimicked by the sunset now.

Hesitantly, I asked. “Where is the limit, then?” My throat felt so empty and dry, it surprised me that I didn’t stutter. “Did you draw the line at the whiskey and beer or—?”

He cut me off before I could finish, his body rose from the ground. “At the sight of other men holding you,” his voice resonated. I brought my hands to my tights. “I couldn’t stand one more second of that.”

Both of us fell into silence; the song of the waves sang louder around us. There was so much to say, but I just didn’t know where to start. I didn’t want to apologize for what I’d done. Period. But the silence and the image of his eyes growing darker by the second deepened in front of me. He was mad. Hurt, perhaps?

I looked away, finding comfort in the sunset.

Thoughts started piling up, coupled with questions I didn’t know if I wanted to ask. My mind wandered through all of them and I felt like I was lost in a maze, unable to find a way out of the mess we had created around ourselves.

Finally, Carlos broke the silence.

“I know you don’t trust me,” he said and paused. His voice was so deep, almost cracking at the end like his mouth tried to repel that sentence. I’d forgotten about telling him that, but the sad look in his eyes told me he didn’t. He probably remembered the words too brightly and, for the first time, I regretted saying them. “And… I know it’s been hard to have me around,” he leaned his head slightly, eyes dropping to my hands, resting on my tights. My palms started to sweat against the thin fabric of my sundress. His eyes met mine once more, so dark, with a weight sitting heavily above them. “All I can say is that I’m sorry for last night.”

“I—” I couldn't bring myself to say anything; my words were just dumb mumblings, whispers I wasn't sure he could listen to. “Don't—”

If he did listen, he ignored them.

“Also,” his expression was rigid. His eyebrows were drawn together and the deep shadows under them seemed to intensify his gaze. “I'm not going anywhere.” It felt like a promise.

I searched his face for any trace of anger or disappointment but found none. After he spoke, his features softened and a hint of vulnerability pierced through. That subtle hint almost got lost in the firmness of his words. It wouldn’t be fair to shield myself. I shook my head left and right, eyes roaming the sky and the empty bottle of wine, afraid of meeting his. The words disappeared when I thought I had them on the tip of my tongue, the beating of my heart ricocheted inside my heart to the point it seemed unbearable to sustain.

Each word seemed like a corner I was not sure I’d gotten the best line for.

“I didn’t go dance with him to get to you.” was the first thing I brought myself to say. “Maybe I did, in a way. It—” I corrected myself so quickly he didn’t have much time to react. He just nodded, simply nodded. No smile, no… nothing. He just patiently waited. I took a deep breath and cleaned the palms of my hands on my tights. “And the kiss?”

Once again, he frowned.

“I am the same person I was before him. Before he touched me, before he kissed me.” I shrugged. It was simple, in my mind. “Nothing changed with that kiss. But, with you…?” I brought my eyebrows together. How could he not see it? Or feel it? “All it took was to see you. That night, in Mugello… Seeing you…” Words fled again, emotions pilling up inside. “My world shifted in place.”

The air felt heavier, my words weighing down the atmosphere around us but freeing my chest from all the pain. At that moment, I felt myself hovering between two different worlds, blind to reality but too grounded to see ahead. I kept going.

“After all that time, I thought… I thought it was gone. The feelings, the longing… I thought I'd come to terms with the fact that you were no longer a part of my life. But I never did,” I paused, taking a deep breath as I tried to process the emotions running through me. I looked down at my hands, remembering how many times I remembered the night we fell asleep holding hands. How many times I'd wish to have him holding my hand. How many times I’d wished to have him there, just there—under the podium, sitting at the table in the place we'd chosen for him or in the airplane seat we'd booked just in case he could find a way to join us.

The memories hit me like a wave, washing over me with an intensity that I hadn't expected.

“You brought everything back. Good and bad,” I cut off and looked at him, my vision blurred by the tears in my eyes. Rage and pain sided with the fondness I felt for him. “There was no way I could have just kissed you and gone back to living my life like before.”

I hadn't realized Carlos had moved closer until I felt the warmth of his cologne and the weight of his hand on the cushion closer to me. My eyes wandered down to find his big hand next to mine, his fingers not daring to touch my skin. I looked up at him and he opened his mouth to speak, but I quickly raised my hand, asking for just one more second of his attention. His lips closed and his eyes squinted slightly as he waited patiently for me to continue.

My eyes hungrily lingered on his lips, my body fiercely battling against the strong desire to close the distance and kiss him at that very moment. I then looked up again, drawn in by his eyes that seemed to swallow me whole.

"I know it would ruin us if we just kissed.”

And then: silence.

Comfortable, but heavy. I’d let it out. There was nothing holding me back. I’d said it. My mind had finally unravelled itself and God, it felt good. He, though, was still holding everything inside. I could see it in his eyes, searching for mine, almost desperate.

To be honest, I didn’t know what I expected him to say.

But somehow, he knew what I was waiting for.

“Does this make me selfish?” I felt the tingle of his fingertips on my thigh, but I wasn’t able to look anywhere but his eyes. Carlos’ hand travelled up, fingers softly touching my arm, my whole body awakening in response.

“What?” I whispered, my eyes dropping for a second to look at his hand.

He waited for me to look up at him. Then, he answered. “Wanting you this badly.”

I couldn’t bring myself to say or do anything and the mere idea of looking away from him seemed wrong. His gaze held me captive, never leaving mine. Carlos gently took my chin between his thumb and index finger and his eyes darted downwards to my lips.

His thumb traced small circles near my bottom lip, each one coming closer. I could feel the warmth radiating from his touch, making my heart flutter in anticipation. His thumb slid through the extension of my lip, coaxing it open, and I found myself gazing into his eyes, longing for him.

“Eva,” I closed my eyes for a brief moment, my head tilting at the sweet sound that was my name coming out of his mouth. “I don’t care how much I want you, how much I want this,” he stared hungrily at my mouth. I swallowed dry. “I won’t do anything that could taint a moment I’ve been waiting for so long.” He paused. “Years, Eva. I’ve been waiting for years. I can wait a couple more weeks.”

“No,” my hands wrapped around his forearm, holding it in place, reacting against the idea of losing that touch. “Don’t wait any longer,” I heard my own voice, yet it felt distant and unfamiliar.

Something shifted in his eyes. The sensation of his fingertips became warmer, the sensation of his heartbeat against my fingertips became more tangible and all of a sudden, I was more aware of myself and everything he made me feel—the effortless feeling of belonging, the immoral desperation he awakened inside me.

Dear God, how much I needed him.

My lips eagerly accepted his, driven by a need like no other. I needed him like water, like salvation for my desperate soul. The kiss was so gentle, but it still sent ripples of electricity through my body. So slow. Patient. Passionate. I felt my body tremble as his touch swept into my very being—the warmth of his lips and the brush of his tongue, the hands that so quickly travelled to find my waist and pull me closer, the inebriating effect of him. Purely him.

“Are we ruined yet?” He whispered against my lips.

“Not yet,” I felt him smile. My chest imploded on itself. “Kiss me again.”

“Gladly.”

With no hesitation, the distance between us was once again bridged. The intensity grew – his hands moved with urgency, pulling me into his lap, and mine followed suit, mapping a trajectory from his chest, along his shoulders, to the nape of his head and hooking around it, craving the intimacy of his proximity, of his touch.

I felt dizzy with the delight of being lost in his embrace.

And although it seemed like an eternity, one so easy to bear, I could only hope for it to be prolonged even more. Time seemed to stand still and the world around us faded away as I felt his lips tenderly brush against my own again and again. His hands were like a vice, holding me close as his tongue began to explore my body, from my mouth to my neck, tracing his way across my collarbones. His tongue was like velvet against my skin.

When we parted and I looked at him, a newfound intensity shone in his eyes. Carlos held me close, his thumb caressing my cheek softly, his eyes wandering from my eyes to my lips and then back to my eyes again. A gaze so intense, so powerful it could permeate through the barriers of my mind and read my thoughts.

Take me, I wanted to say. Make me yours.

Instead, I begged him in silence, eyes on his, while my fingers cruised towards the neck of his t-shirt and pulled it off in an exasperated attempt to fulfil the wishes I couldn’t bring myself to comprehend.

He was there, flesh and bone; his cologne inebriating me, his lips adoring my skin, his hands taking ownership of my body. But I needed more. As I glimpsed his bare chest, I couldn’t help but reach out and let my fingertips meet the tanned sculpted skin and slide them through it. So warm, almost burning.

Carlos kissed my shoulder, his lips making a trail along my neck and fingers pulling down the strands of the dress, which gracefully fell on my lap. Patiently, his hands traced the curves of my body, stopping when he reached my ass and, groping it, he pressed me against him. I felt my breath catch in my throat as he slowly moved his hand lower to my tights wrapped around him, tracing the curves of my hip, leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake.

And then up again, roaming the line of my spine, stopping when his fingers met the string of my bikini. I slid my hair across my left shoulder, halting the golden waves from disturbing him.

His fingers left my back.

The tension of the string lessened.

A cocky smile appeared on his flushed lips.

“Do you want me to stop?” He asked.

“No.”

His eyes sparkled and his tongue wavered on his lips. I moved my hips in his lap, my hands on his biceps and slowly making their way towards his back.

“Neither do I, love. I wanna kiss every single inch of your skin,” he breathed the words on my skin. His lips moved to my neck, tasting me and pushing me further into him; in response, my body quivered and the grip of my fingers on his skin intensified.

The idea of marking his perfectly sculptured back made the arousal in me intensify to new heights; just thinking about it made my hips move on their own. God, how desperate. A moan slid through my lips when I felt him harden under me. He grunted, hands groping my ass and incentivising my movements.

“You smell so good,” I breathed in as his words met the skin of my chest. The faint touch of his nose traced lines on my chest until he stopped in the middle of my breasts. “I bet you taste even better.”

A breath escaped my lips when he eagerly grabbed my breast, slightly groping it before his thumb swiped away the fabric. My chest rose and fell with every brush of his lips against the skin that he so softly kissed. I slid my hands up to his hair after I untied the knot of the bikini at my back and removed my top.

My head fell back, taking in the last light of the day; lips parted, eyes closed. Fingers lost in the soft strands of his hair, holding his face closer to my chest. The waves roaring around us fell into silence as they rocked us into oblivion. From my lips, a whisper escaped —his name, in a way I'd never pronounced it before and my breath hitched when his tongue, moist and warm, reached my nipple. My voice was so light, it felt heavenly in my own ears. The grunt he let out confirmed to me that it had resonated in the same way with him.

“Eva,” I looked down, heart pounding in my chest. He was looking at me, eyes so dark they made me whimper.

“Hm?”

“We can’t do this, cariño. I wasn’t counting on this,” he said, his voice a mix of surprise and pleasure.

His hands, now planted on the small of my back, sent a wave of warmth through me. I tilted my head. The idea of stepping back after feeling his body pressed against mine, after having a glimpse of what it would be like, was too much to bear. Almost incomprensible.

I just shook my head. “I’m—” I stumbled in my words, unable to ignore the feeling of his arousal against me. “We can… work it out, I guess.”

I wanted to explore the urgency and the energy that seemed to control us so effortlessly and find out where it could lead us. My lips met his once more and Carlos offered no resistance. On the contrary – his hands wrapped around my body once again. My own anticipation was building as I moved my hips in circles on his lap; his chest heaving in response.

It was too tempting to resist.

“Joder,” he said softly, his grip on my ass growing tight. “You’re going to make me cum in my trunks if you keep doing that.” His words were filled with a desire that I could feel in every inch of my body as if it was radiating from him.

“Ask me to stop, then.” Don’t. “I will.”

He closed his eyes and his hands moved to my waist, encircling it in a tight embrace as if to keep me still. I wanted him to let me keep going, to let me come on his lap and collapse into his chest. I tilted my head and looked at him, my confusion growing as I studied his countenance. He cupped my face after opening his eyes and I saw within them a myriad of emotions - darkness, strength; an almost lividness.

"I think I might be ruined," he said with a hint of resignation in his voice, but I could also sense an underlying tone of defiance, as if he didn't care what the consequences might be.

The world spun around me as he turned me around, laying my back on the sunbed. He stood as a silhouette against the sunset, his face nothing but intense shadows traced with gold. His lips met mine again and this time it was nothing like before. It was violent and passionate, full of hunger and desire, a wave of lust that swept away everything that was left in my mind.

Our bodies were a mess of passion and desire, too caught up in the moment to truly appreciate what we had. The feelings and emotions that had been stored inside me for so long were now being released, like a raging fire that threatened to consume me whole. The same energy was emanating from him; his hands and lips clung to me with the same intensity I wanted to plunge in myself.

I drowned in the moment, basking in him, his essence, his touch and his voice that spoke so deeply in my ear.

"What should I do to you?" He whispered before biting my earlobe.

“Everything,” I said, my voice a whisper. “Do everything.”

He chuckled softly and his embrace tightened around me, enveloping me in his warmth. I felt his lips gently brush against my neck and then move down to the curve of my shoulder and the swell of my breasts. His hands moved up and down my figure, as if he wanted to remember every curve and line of my body.

A trace of fire seemed to course through the same lines he traced, moving lower and lower. In response, my muscles contracted and goosebumps appeared over my skin. I had to take a deep breath when he reached my belly and his fingers traced small circles there instead of continuing lower.

"Everything, huh?" A husky voice left his lips before he planted a gentle kiss on the sensitive skin of my abdomen. I could feel myself melting into the fabric of the sunbed beneath us, as his fingers explored further and his lips followed behind them slowly. "What about we start with this?" He continued, lust in his eyes as he looked up at me.

I could come from the view alone—his deep brown eyes looking intently into mine; his shoulders pushing my legs further apart and carving a place for himself in the gap between them. The sensation of his beard in between my thighs sent a shiver through my body, the prickly sensation making me succumb to his touch. The way he groaned when my fingers ventured into his hair, pulling on the dark strands the second I felt his fingers inside me.

Each time he looked up, lips glistening with my own pleasure and eyes as dark as I have ever seen them, I thought I was imprisoned in some wet dream.

It was ridiculous the way my body reacted to him.

My hips moved up, trying to get more of the pleasure he was offering me and he promptly responded to my movements and demands; his tongue leaving faster and fingers working inside me as if his only purpose was to please me. God. His persistence made my body tremble and my lips part each time the pleasure metamorphosed itself into moans and whimpers.

In front of me, his torso was elevated and the broad shoulders and torso cast a long shadow over me. All at once, his hands were gone and the emptiness his fingers left behind made me whimper softly. He leaned down, his hand sliding to my neck, thumb pressing lightly against my chin.

“I was right, you know?” With a gentle force, he made me look up at him. “You taste so good.”

When he kissed me, I could feel it in my own mouth. Honey and wine and me. On this man’s lips.

I heard the muffled thud of his trunks hitting the floor and my eyes were immediately drawn to the sight of his aroused state; his erection was a deep crimson and in a state of need. I felt my own desperation rising and tried to press my thighs together in an attempt to quell it. Carlos’ lips curved in a smile and his hand searched for mine, pulling it to his hardness; his large, strong hand enveloping my own, guiding me to provide him with the pleasure he sought. My other hand moved to my own pleasure, my fingers desperately trying to fill the hollow Carlos had left.

“If you only knew how many times I've done this alone,” he said, “thinking of you. Wishing for you.”

His slender fingers entwined with my own, sending a thrill through me as he demonstrated his desire. I felt my own growing with each passing moment, desperation rising inside of me; a deep and primal passion taking hold.

“Please,” my voice elevated itself over his.

"Please, what?" I sighed, my head leaning to the side in a plea. Carlos grabbed my wrist and forced my hand to rest on top of my thigh. "Use your words," he said firmly. "Tell me what you need."

I could feel my body quivering, my need for him tangible. I wanted him. I needed him. I needed to end this longing and this need my body was screaming to get rid of. "I need you," I said softly, my hips moving down to make the need even clearer. He let go of my hands but still stayed close, his pre-cum clammy on my fingers.

"You know what that means," Carlos murmured, his body hovering above me. He supported his weight by placing a hand next to my head.

My eyes pleaded with him. "Carlos, please," I begged. More than anything else, I wanted him to know that this was not a mere request but a desperate plea for him to fill the void I was feeling.

He didn't let me wait for long. In one swift move, he was inside me and I gasped at the sudden pleasure. His hands moved from my waist to my hips, pulling me closer to him and I could feel his length entering me further and further. He was as needy as me.

Slow, steady thrusts that made my body and soul melt into his.

Each movement or brush of the wind against my skin had a different effect on me. Pleasure rose with each passing moment. My hands reached for his shoulder, my nails digging into his flesh, desperate to hold on.

The hoarse moans he let out resonated deep in my bones, fueling my own.

His thrusts became more urgent, pushing a little further each time in a rhythm completely new to me, yet feeling like it had been written in my veins since birth. Pleasure slowly built up until I was sure I couldn't take anymore, until it felt like the desperation rooted deep inside of me was unravelling each seam of my body, longing for escape, for relief. When the moment came, it simultaneously felt like being pulled under the waves and the first breath of fresh air after staying underwater. I felt the tension snap and uncoil slowly like molasses, chipping away at my consciousness until I was light enough to float with the breeze. All I could see were stars, efflorescent in the purple haze of the sky. All I could feel was him, solid and present and only mine in this very moment. I couldn't help but call out his name.

"Just a bit longer, love," he said. "Just need a bit more. Can you take it?"

In response, I just nodded, my eyes still closed, taken by my own bliss. My cries of joy echoed through the night, growing louder and more intense as he continued relentlessly, pushing me closer and closer to the edge of euphoria. I felt like I could come again, the sensations never-ending. With each stroke, I felt myself tremble with pleasure and my breath came in desperate gasps as I tried to keep up with the rhythm of his thrusts.

An emptiness struck me when he pulled away quickly, a whimper escaping my lips at the right instant. I slightly opened my eyes, admiring him in between my lashes. The wistful look on his face, his parted lips, his eyes that didn't leave my body for a second. His fist wrapped around his erection as he jerked himself to completion sending a shot of lust through me.

"God, you're beautiful," he breathed. "So beautiful."

He groaned again, and I felt the heat of his orgasm on my belly. He looked down at it with awe. A smirk painted his lips. Eyes dark with lust.

My fingers gripped his shoulders as he bent his head to kiss me. Our lips touched, once, twice—soft kisses that became more intense, deeper, hungry. His tongue danced with mine, a tango of passion and need. His tongue danced with mine, helpless and desperate. I wrapped my fingers around his back and dug into his skin. A shudder ran through him under my hands. His cock was still between us, stiffening again as he kissed me. The smell of sex and male musk was thick in the air and I couldn't help but feel intoxicated by it.

He pulled back to see my face and caught his breath at the sight of me. A smirk spread across his lips as he rolled off me slowly as if just realizing what we had done. His eyes darkened with lust as he traced the patch of wetness on my belly with his finger.

"What the hell did we just do?"

I felt my heart race at the simple words and my stomach flutter at the intensity of his gaze.

"I believe we just ruined us for good.”

"Oh," he got closer still, pushing me to him and wrapping me in his arms. My body settled comfortably in his embrace, my skin finding warmth in his chest. "Not for good, love; just until we do this again."

I don’t know how much time we spent like that, catching our breaths and allowing the pleasure to slowly dissipate until all that was left was the warmth of his embrace and the sound of the waves crashing against the shell of the boat, but I was sure I could live in that moment forever.

Sooooooooooo, that happened. As always, this is the part where I thank you for all the support and please never stop speaking your mind. I love reading your reactions! And send me questions if you have some!! First (of many) smutty chapters. Hope you enjoyed it.

Happy Easter to those who celebrate! As always, sending you all the love!

[forgiveness-in-the-misery]

…Does anybody else feel that What We Do in the Shadows has failed terribly at queer storytelling? Not even necessarily about character gender or sexuality but the like idea of it?

Like look at Our Flag Means Death even the romance aside Stede was a depressed man forced into an arranged marriage he wanted no part of, he lived a dull ordinary life that left him feeling empty. Then one day he buys a ship and becomes a pirate, we watch this man slowly fully become his true self. He dresses flamboyantly, he loves to read and write, he’s awkward and funny and bitchy, he’s romantic and violent and kind.

Look at Hannibal and specifically the journey of Will. Will is awkward, he can’t make eye contact in most conversations, he’s typically withdrawn and painfully awkward. Then through Hannibal and this complex horror Will becomes undone. He can stare you not just in the eye but deep into your soul, he stops fighting his darkness and instead embraces the beauty of it because he is no longer alone and judged. He can be violent, he can be artful and disturbed under the understanding gaze of Hannibal Lectar.

Look at Gotham and specifically Ed. Ed dresses in mute tones, he dotes and follows Harvey and Jim and Kristen mothering them in hopes of them becoming his friends only for all three to constantly find him irritating and unmanly “strange”. When he kills Tom he starts to change, he finally gets the girl and he becomes more social, more bold. After killing Kristen and befriending Oswald he changes more. Each time we see Ed he changes, he dresses in vibrant greens and is flamboyant and loud, he is no longer afraid of how others perceive him. The same goes for Oswald and his constant stages of reinvention as he learns through Ed and Fish Mooney to love himself.

These are stories while with queer stories and queer characters are also just in general stories about people who try desperately to play “normal” in order to be accepted by work and family and society to eventually end their stories covered in glitter and sometimes blood and free of the restraints of a world that shamed them.

….What We Do in the Shadows doesn’t do this.

Guillermo had two paths to bis truer self; become a vampire which was his allegory for freedom in his sexuality or embrace being a vampire slayer.

Becoming a vampire is shown as a horrible thing he instantly regrets and he retreats far into the fucking closet after one minute of it, but he also isn’t a slayer. Season four he dresses nice, he dresses in a way that seems free and more comfortable and confident but then immediately goes back to dressing like a grandfather and following Nandor and the others as their slave/pet. Guillermo does not have a story where he comes out the other end changed, freed, living his true self.

I know we still have one more season to go, but the show has fumbled for five seasons and has constantly been openly scared of allowing him to actually come out.

Which is frustrating because out of the shows listed here it is the one where everybody involved, Simms especially never shuts the fuck up about it being the most gay show to ever gay give us a trophy for being gay.

This isn’t about romance in Shadows or any of these shows either, this is solely about the allegory of the queer experience, of finding peace and freedom in who you really want to be and how Shadows keeps a firm chokehold on its characters refusing to let them change.

[veny-many]

Previous post :

Thinking about survived Order 66 Plo Koon AU

What I saw, Kel-Dorian often worked as a bounty hunter or something like that due to their strong judgment of the right and wrong.

So what I am thinking in my headcanon sandbox: Plo acting as a retired bounty hunter. And like "what is Jedi? I didn't hear of them. Of the lightning from my hand? It is Kel-Dor ability no need to worry :)"

Wolffe is by his side as a... colleague? Or successor?

Some people think it's odd that Kel-Dor and clone like human wandering around and got suspicious.

"I knew it! You guys not just some bounty hunters teaming right?"

"You Kel-Dor adopted human! I never thought any Kel-Dor clan would accept other sentients as their family!"

"Excuse me what"

Wolffe feels strong responsibility of protecting Plo because he never deserved this and he still feels guilty(despite how many times Plo told him it was not) so he often acts in front.

But since he was naive and honest clone(be honest, Wolffe is not good at lying and he is softy despite his sass) Wolffe often caught up in troubles in civilian and underworld life. In this case, Plo steps front and negotiate or talks about troubles.(thank you and not thank you Micah for always dragging his naive friend to underworld)

Wolffe feels frustrated and powerless when this happens.

After Malevolence, he always feels bad when he can't act in front. It means his brother will suffer instead of him.

Wolffe sometimes thinks, if he was not here, Plo would be more easily live and hide under Empire's hunting.

He doesn't know that when he is fallen asleep, Plo often strokes his hair, and recites Jedi Code in his mind to send his never-ending grief and regrets to the Force.

One day, Wolffe didn't come back to their hideout till late evening.

Plo: I knew that one day he will get lost, like other children.

And half true, because Wolffe got kidnapped by underworld criminals.

The kidnappers recognized Wolffe has same face with the clone troopers, and he was deserter from Empire. So they thought if they get him and make him talk about the army information, or just send him back to Empire for reward. Or just sell him to slavery, because clone troopers also known as a great soldier and worker with no worries about someone would try to find them.

What they didn't know, that there was one Jedi who was tracking them for one clone they trafficked.

Lightning. Because why not. Plo couldn't use his saber because it was too dangerous for his and Wolffe's hide, but instead he uses his Electric Judgment to knock down kidnappers. He frees abducted peoples and finds Wolffe.

Wolffe, who was tortured and hurt because he tried to protect other young slaves.

And Wolffe tells Plo that it was too dangerous and meaningless. That it was too risky too use his Force tactic to rescue one clone.

And anyway Plo gathers Wolffe in his arm and goes to their hideout.

And tugges Wolffe in warm blankets and gives him warm soup. And water.

After Wolffe is calmed, Plo tells him his honest mind. That actually he is doubting that they could fine any Jedi survivors, or even if there are any other survivors at first. And after Jedi Order's fall, Plo felt like he lost his whole life's purpose, that was meant to serve the Force and greater goods.

But Wolffe was still there, and he found his first new purpose for his life, to protect this young soldier and help him learning to survive the real life outside the army life. And with that, when he finds many others who are in danger, he could help them even after Order's fall, and he was grad to be alive thanks to Wolffe's existence.

Wolffe just keeps weeping silently while listening Plo's talk. And Plo had to give him more water to prevent dehydration.

Stay hydrated everyone.

Peoples who got freed kept their secrets, for the Jedi who saved them. But anyway the rumor spread to underworld, that there was one Kel-Dor with iron arm who striked to trafficking hideout and fried criminals and released slaves.

Ahsoka and Rex in Rebellion heard that rumors with newfound hope.

Wolfpack in Empire army heard that rumor with burning desire to hunt down their commanding officers who betrayed and left them.

That's all for now. Thank you everyone have a nice day.

[izurusstuff]

message from junkosstuff: hello my lovelies, it’s time to write smut for my highest kin with a reader that has my ultimate >:)

cw: smut. straight up smut. sex, even. praising. mentions of bullying. also, this is a fem!reader

summary: you’re a student at hope’s peak academy, and your ultimate gets you bullied due to its nerdy nature. however, one student you crossed paths with a few times comforts you ;)

Multiplication (Ultimate Mathematician Fem!Reader x Izuru Kamukura Smut)

Once again, you sat eating your lunch in the library. It’s not like you were complaining about it, to be fair. You just took this as an opportunity to work on your ultimate, which happened to be nothing but math. After all, it was relaxing to rearrange all the numbers in your head. The way you could plug them in to get a different outcome- it was soothing, all of it.

What wasn’t soothing, though, was the cruel remarks of your classmates while you were at lunch. All you were doing was simply standing in line, yet Togami had to purposefully trip you and make you drop your lunch all over yourself… his cruel and apathetic words rang in your head over and over, which was so bad that not even numbers could help.

“Look at you… on the floor covered in your own filth like the pathetic excuse of a human you are. Have you not learned your place here? Your ultimate sounds smart, but you’re utterly useless in the grand scheme of life.”

Ouch. You knew he was mean, but that was just another level of cruelty. So cruel, in fact, that you hadn’t even noticed the tears rolling down your face that landed on your book.

“If you’re going to break down in the library, could you do it quieter?”

The new voice caused you to whip your head around, in which you noticed the familiar boy you’ve started to consider a friend; Izuru Kamukura. Much to his discretion, he didn’t expect you to look so… pitiful when you were upset. If you didn’t know any better, you could almost detect the sense of regret in his eyes.

“S-sorry. I’ll go-”

“No. Stay. I have no other source of entertainment here. Everything is boring.”

Did… Izuru actually find you interesting? Maybe you were just delusional. You were probably daydreaming this to make yourself feel better. Well, you thought it was a dream.

That was, until Izuru sat across from you as he stared straight into your eyes with a hint of concern.

“Tell me… who did this to you?”

“I-it doesn’t matter, Izu-”

“But it does. You’re sitting here across from me with tears rolling down your face. Does that not matter?”

His voice was actually sort of comforting, which was the last thing you expected. Wasn’t he supposed to be some emotionless monster? Because he was an absolute sweetheart to you. Especially during moments like these.

“I’m fine, really… Thank you.”

After your words of reassurance, you could’ve sworn you saw his lips twist into a slight smile. It was refreshing; his presence alone was like the breath of fresh air you take after being underwater for too long. His smile was even better. When you knew it was there, it was as if your jailed heart was freed from its bounds.

Little to both his and your knowledge, he felt the same way.

Izuru turned his head to look around for a moment, which caused you to raise an eyebrow in curiosity. Was he searching for something? Was he embarrassed to be with you and wanted to be sure no one saw him? Great, now you felt worse- but Izuru could detect your emerging anxiety and rested his hand on yours. Although he didn’t say anything for a while, his gaze held all of the things he needed to express.

“Try to relax. I could never be ashamed of being with you. The only people who should be ashamed are the ones who can be so evil to a beautiful human.”

Wait, beautiful-? Did he just say-?

It didn’t matter; you didn’t have the chance to think. Before you could even object, you could feel his lips getting closer to yours. Of course, you leaned in almost instantly. For such a cold human, his lips were so warm. You could dare to separate from them, nor could he separate from yours. But sharing a passionate kiss at a table wasn’t the most optimal for privacy, so he slowly stood up without breaking the kiss. Eventually, he backed you up against a wall between the bookshelves, still engaging in the kiss. For some reason, you wrapped your arms around his neck and your legs around his waist, which caused a raspy groan to release from his mouth.

And that was when you felt something pressing against your lower region.

Both you and Izuru were growing more aroused by the second, which unfortunately broke the kiss. With your lips puffed and swollen from the excessive kissing, you gave the boy a look to make sure you were on the same page. Thankfully, he was able to pick up on it and he nodded before going back in to kiss you.

The kisses weren’t enough anymore. Both of you needed more, so you pulled away to nibble on his neck and leave a few marks. That was something he definitely couldn’t have predicted, which only excited him more as his hands made their way under your shirt. Izuru’s touch was so gentle. So precise. You could’ve sworn he was an angel with how graceful he was being with you.

As those delicate hands took off your shirt, you turned your face to the side in embarrassment. Kamukura, of course, wasn’t too fond of it and gently brought your chin back to face him.

“Look at me. You are… so beautiful. The most breathtaking thing this boring world has to offer. I refuse to let you think otherwise. Let me prove it to you.”

His soft praise made you blush, but you obviously nodded. After you tucked a strand of his hair behind his ear, you felt something warm prodding at your entrance. Apparently Izuru’s fingers made their way to your cunt while he was sweet talking you.

“So wet for me already. You’re truly adorable, Y/N.”

Before you could even say anything, you felt a finger slip inside of you, causing you to let out a gasp as a reflex. Since he knew you liked it, he added another one and began to move them in and out, making you moan in tune with his thrusting.

“Those sounds… they’re so pretty. You should make them more.”

It’s not like you really had a choice, but you allowed yourself to let out even more moans as your nails dug into his back. When you heard him wince in pain, you immediately felt bad, but he merely added another finger and sped up his pace as if he was rewarding you. Your special “reward” caused a knot to build up in your stomach, which you signaled to Izuru before he added his thumb into the mix. He used it to brush across your clit, ultimately making you cum on his fingers.

“As much as I enjoy those lovely noises, I don’t want to overstimulate you, perhaps we should-”

You didn’t let him finish his sentence. Your lips attached to his yet again, this time rutting against his groin as he moaned.

“W…want you… more…”

Your neediness surprised him, but your boldness is what surprised you. You were so desperate just to feel him inside of you that you would do nearly anything, which Izuru slowly realized. He certainly didn’t mean to make you a sex-crazed slut in that moment, but he wasn’t going to complain.

“Then take off your clothes for me, will you?”

You did as he asked on near instant instinct, but you added your own little twist to give him a show. Neither of you had any idea where this version of you came from, but you couldn’t care less. Izuru couldn’t either, because seeing your bare body mesmerized him. Looks like you were able to put the world’s most powerful human under a spell of lust, because he grabbed your thighs and slammed into you without warning.

“Forgive me for being rough, I just couldn’t… wait for this-”

Izuru grunted out, his words punctuating with his thrusting. Each one made you more and more desperate for him to ruin you; babbles spilled out of your mouth as he smirked at your eagerness. All that was comprehensible were the little moans of his name, which drove him insane. He wanted to ruin you in that moment, but he couldn’t allow himself to do that to someone so innocent and pure.

“I-Izuruuu! I-I’m so close! P-please don’t stop! I love y-you!”

You couldn’t even stop yourself from your confession of love because of how good he was railing you. Instead of responding, he pressed your lips together and gently cupped your face as his forehead rested against yours. You weren’t the only one in love.

“Me too… you’re doing so good for me, darling. Just like that…”

And with those words, you came undone around your friend’s cock. You could feel that he was close too, because though the quivering legs, you felt the throbbing before a warm sensation spilled out inside of you.

“I…I love you too, Y/N…”

[demigoddessqueens]

the captain and the witch

Summary - he thought he could have it all, but it left him lonely. He sees the similarities between him and Jones starting to grow, and it pains him.

Author’s note: Yes i based these headcanons off this song! Yes I still love this character and always thinks he deserves better.

It seemed perfect to him! All the praise and glory back in his hands until Jones interferes as always.

Capturing you was a side quest, a means to taunt the goddess Calypso with her kinsmen, but one that Norrington greatly objected to given the cruel nature of it

James was drawn to you for the obvious reasons — your immortality, power, the history you shared with the Sea herself but you looked at him with such a disdain it got to him. Easily.

Still, it compelled him in the short few days you had together when he came by your “quarters”, either to drop off food for you or seek information.

Every word, be it a taunt at him or the blasé nature of yours in withholding, still kept him hooked as if it was your siren’s song.

You thought it annoying at first how this mortal man kept coming back to your cell. Does he wish to taunt you? But it becomes more than that.

He amused you. Very few cared what you had to say back then and now, except for him. Maybe he was try to be empathetic (or just liked the sound of his own voice), but you slowly began to tolerate him. Small accounts here and there, bits and pieces of life stories that fit like puzzles. Though it was humorous at seeing his eyes widen when you told the ancient tales of your life, you appreciated the images conjured by his life story.

Even though it made you feel sad and somewhat pity him.

James didn’t think it was anything serious until he heard you say his name. It rolled so flawlessly off your tongue, and it coursed through his body.

Was it your old magicks or the realization that something more had grown between you two?

When the crew of the Pearl had been captured and placed with you, they recognized you from the tales and stories used to scare others.

Call it an alliance of convenience when you escape, but before you flee The Dutchman, James catches you with the rest.

If this is goodbye, then it was a treasured time he does not regret. James knows it’s too late for him, but he can’t help but pause at your offer as you hold your hand out to him.

“Leave with me. Join me. I’m taking my life back. Will you do the same?”

Still, you deserve better, with or without him. The kiss goodbye catches you off guard before he sends you past the railing to the safety of the ocean.

You feel the life of him slip away when you hit the waters. It’s a sharp pain that leaves you gasping for air.

You want to see him again, uttering a meek offering to whatever deities of yours still reside in the oceans. Prayers mixed with the bitterness of what possibilities were taken from you.

“You foolish, idiotic caring man…” 💔

After the end of Jones’s defeat and the pirate world is freed for now, you dare to hope and reunite with James aboard the Dutchman.

Whoever heard your demand, you’re thankful to him. Part of the Dutchman, part of the crew, his eyes meet yours across the waters with that soft smile you looked forward to.

Despite the rivalry he once had with Turner, there’s a newfound appreciation he has for it. Because when Will crosses that shore, it’s for Elizabeth.

When James crosses it, you’re there for him. Fear of abandonment no longer exists in that hollow chest of his, and when the curse is lifted, you two will be together again.

“I found you.” “Can’t get rid of me that easily now, can you?”