#company history and introduction

[perfectwastelandsuit]

Sky Bet: Dominating the Online Betting Market with Innovative Features and Trusted Reputation

Introduction: A Brief Overview of Sky Bet’s History and Mission Sky Bet is a leading online betting company that has been operating in the UK for over a decade. The company was launched in 2002 as a subsidiary of Sky plc, a British media and entertainment company that is known for its satellite television service. Since its inception, Sky Bet has become one of the most recognizable brands in the…

[velvettte]

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT (18+ ONLY)

boss nanami kento x secretary f!reader, handjob, nanami is hardcore daydreaming and lusting

nanami kento considers his lust to be something shameful.

he knows it’s completely natural—it was how half of history had ever been made—but he always prided himself on choosing his relationships based on loyalty and mutual trust.

all of that went to hell the second you entered his office.

you smiled at him shyly, gently closing the door behind you as you walked up to him with a piece of paper in your hand, presumably your resume.

“hello sir,” you said sweetly, your voice so perfect and melodious that he felt his heart stutter in his chest. “i’m your new secretary. here is my resume containing all my previous positions in case you were curious.”

he doesn’t even bother to look at the resume, opting to look at your face and memorize the details.

has he ever seen anyone with lips so soft? or eyes so luminous? or a smile that was….

he needed to cut that out.

“i’m honored you’ve chosen our company to work at,” he says, offering you what he hopes is a polite smile. on the inside he’s so flustered he can hardly think, focusing on any point of the room so he doesn’t give into the growing heat he feels in his lower belly.

“it was a great choice you say,” and he turns his gaze up and oh dear.

in the midst of his panic he didn’t realize that you’d chosen the worst possible outfit to wear to meet him.

the dress was absolutely stunning, a color that complimented your skin and hugged your silhouette so well that it seemed almost magical.

he could nearly imagine what it would be like beneath. how soft and supple your skin would feel against his hands. he’d take his time to caress your skin and to learn every inch of you, the scars and the softness both.

he really, really needed to stop.

“it was the best choice,” you continued, unaware of the dilemma nanami faced at every second. “i’ve heard absolutely great reviews about your leadership, sir.”

he decides to test the waters once more and finds himself regretting it instantly. you’ve made your way onto the chair in front of his desk now, hair loose from its professional bun and framing your face.

your eyes are so much prettier from this close, he thinks briefly, his heart stopping when you take out a tube of lip balm and smooth it over your lips.

oh god.

he could feel his length twitch as you gave him the biggest smile.

“so, now that introductions are over, do you have a task for me?”

“yes,” he nearly jumps, handing you a folder of assignments that would definitely be more than an hours of work. “these files need copying and some emails need to be sent. do you think you would be able to get through some of these?”

“all of them,” you say determinedly, taking the files from him and oh how his hands yearn to feel the spark that came from that touch.

you scurry out of his office, and nanami sighs, looking down to confirm what he knew was inevitable the second he saw you.

he was so hard, and all it took was a smile and a touch from you.

he gently palmed his bulge over his pants, shivering at the gentle contact. quickly he from his chair and locked the door. the last thing he wanted was for you to come back and see him as pathetic as he was right now.

he unbuttoned his pants and released himself, unsurprised at the bead of precum that had gathered at the tip.

against his better judgement, he gently wrapped his fingers around his dick, slowly moving up and down.

he thought of how beautiful you looked in that dress and skated his thumb to the tip, groaning at the sensation.

as he moved his fist yet again, he was interrupted by a fantasy of you doing this instead.

your hands around his dick, whispering sweet nothings in his ears and moving your first at a tantalizingly slow cadence. you who’d listen to his groans and tease him, touching his tip and his sweet spots just enough to get him whining.

he could feel himself harden even more beneath his fingers, rubbing his tip yet again and groaning in pleasure. he shut his eyes, thinking of your hands, your eyes, your body.

he, sinfully, thought about how you’d take him into your mouth, your hands and tongue working in tandem.

he could feel the knot in his stomach tighten when he thinks about how warm your mouth would feel around him.

against his better judgment he whispers your name, velvet against his lips, and with another stroke he’s seeing stars, hips arching as he comes.

he gasps for air, looking at his mess and wondering just how he’ll ever face you.

he gently cleans himself up, thanking whatever power there was for having a tissue box nearby.

he unlocks his office and sits there, a furious blush on his face when you walk into his office again.

“hello sir,” you smile, “i hope all these files are arranged to your liking.”

“that was so fast,” he says, looking through what could only be described as immaculate work. “these are all perfect.”

“i’m so glad,” you grin. “say…i know it’s a bit unprofessional, but do you think you could give me a ride to my apartment tonight? i am so sorry for asking…my metro card just ran out of swipes.”

“i would love to,” he says in a heartbeat, his own heart thudding wildly.

god, he was a goner.

all feedback is appreciated!! if you want to be added to my taglist for general posts or certain ones, feel free to send an ask <3

[najia-cooks]

[ID: A bowl of avocado spread sculpted into a pattern, topped with olive oil and garnished with symmetrical lines of nigella seeds and piles of pomegranate seeds; a pile of pita bread is in the background. End ID]

متبل الأفوكادو / Mutabbal al-'afukadu (Palestinian avocado dip)

Avocados are not native to Palestine. Israeli settlers planted them in Gaza in the 1980s, before being evicted when Israel evacuated all its settlements in Gaza in 2005. The avocados, however, remained, and Gazans continued to cultivate them for their fall and winter harvest. Avocados have been folded into the repertoire of a "new" Palestinian cuisine, as Gazans and other Palestinians have found ways to interpret them.

Palestinians may add local ingredients to dishes traditionally featuring avocado (such as Palestinian guacamole, "جواكامولي فلسطيني" or "غواكامولي فلسطيني"), or use avocado in Palestinian dishes that typically use other vegetables (pickling them, for example, or adding them to salads alongside tomato and cucumber).

Another dish in this latter category is حمص الافوكادو (hummus al-'afukadu)—avocado hummus—in which avocado is smoothly blended with lemon juice, white tahina (طحينة البيضاء, tahina al-bayda'), salt, and olive oil. Yet another is متبّل الأفوكادو (mutabbal al-'afukadu). Mutabbal is a spiced version of بابا غنوج (baba ghannouj)‎: "مُتَبَّل" means "spiced" or "seasoned," from "مُ" "mu-," a participlizing prefix, + "تَبَّلَ" "tabbala‎," "to have spices added to." Here, fresh avocado replaces the roasted eggplant usually used to make this smooth dip; it is mixed with green chili pepper, lemon juice, garlic, white tahina, sumac, and labna (لبنة) or yoghurt. Either of these dishes may be topped with sesame or nigella seeds, pomegranate seeds, fresh dill, or chopped nuts, and eaten with sliced and toasted flatbread.

Avocados' history in Palestine precedes their introduction to Gaza. They were originally planted in 1908 by a French order of monks, but these trees have not survived. It was after the Balfour Declaration of 1917 (in which Britain, having been promised colonial control of Palestine with the dissolution of the Ottoman Empire after World War 1, pledged to establish "a national home for the Jewish people" in Palestine) that avocado agriculture began to take root.

In the 1920s, 30s, and 40s, encouraged by Britain, Jewish Europeans began to immigrate to Palestine in greater numbers and establish agricultural settlements (leaving an estimated 29.4% of peasant farming families without land by 1929). Seeds and seedlings from several varieties of avocado were introduced from California by private companies, research stations, and governmental bodies (including Mikveh Israel, a school which provided settlers with agricultural training). In these years, prices were too high for Palestinian buyers, and quantities were too low for export.

It wasn't until after the beginning of the Nakba (the ethnic cleansing of Palestinians from "Jewish" areas following the UN partition of Palestine in 1947) that avocado plantings became significant. With Palestinians having been violently expelled from most of the area's arable land, settlers were free to plant avocados en masse for export, aided (until 1960) by long-term, low-interest loans from the Israeli government. The 400 acres planted within Israel's claimed borders in 1955 ballooned to 2,000 acres in 1965, then 9,000 by 1975, and over 17,000 by 1997. By 1986, Israel was producing enough avocados to want to renegotiate trade agreements with Europe in light of the increase.

Israeli companies also attained commercial success selling avocados planted on settlements within the West Bank. As of 2014, an estimated 4.5% of Israeli avocado exports were grown in the occupied Jordan Valley alone (though data about crops grown in illegal settlements is of course difficult to obtain). These crops were often tended by Palestinian workers, including children, in inhumane conditions and at starvation wages. Despite a European Union order to specify the origin of such produce as "territories occupied by Israel since 1967," it is often simply marked "Israel." Several grocery stores across Europe, including Carrefour, Lidl, Dunnes Stores, and Aldi, even falsified provenance information on avocados and other fruits in order to circumvent consumer boycotts of goods produced in Israel altogether—claiming, for example, that they were from Morocco or Cyprus.

Meanwhile, while expanding its own production of avocados, Israel was directing, limiting, and destabilizing Palestinian agriculture in an attempt to eliminate competition. In 1982, Israel prohibited the planting of fruit trees without first obtaining permission from military authorities; in practice, this resulted in Palestinians (in Gaza and the West Bank) being entirely barred from planting new mango and avocado trees, even to replace old, unproductive ones.

Conditions worsened in the years following the second intifada. Between September of 2000 and September of 2003, Israeli military forces destroyed wells, pumps, and an estimated 85% of the agricultural land in al-Sayafa, northern Gaza, where farmers had been using irrigation systems and greenhouses to grow fruits including citrus, apricots, and avocados. They barred almost all travel into and out of al-Sayafa: blocking off all roads that lead to the area, building barricades topped with barbed wire, preventing entry within 150 meters of the barricade under threat of gunfire, and opening crossings only at limited times of day and only for specific people, if at all.

A July 2001 prohibition on Palestinian vehicles within al-Sayafa further slashed agricultural production, forcing farmers to rely on donkeys and hand carts to tend their fields and to transport produce across the crossing. If the crossing happened to be closed, or the carts could not transport all the produce in time, fruits and vegetables would sit waiting in the sun until they rotted and could not be sold. The 2007 blockade worsened Gaza's economy still further, strictly limiting imports and prohibiting exports entirely (though later on, there would be exceptions made for small quantities of specific crops).

In the following years, Israel allowed imports of food items into Gaza not exceeding the bare minimum for basic sustenance, based on an estimation of the caloric needs of its inhabitants. Permitted (apples, bananas, persimmons, flour) and banned items for import (avocados, dates, grapes) were ostensibly based on "necessary" versus "luxury" foods, but were in fact directed according to where Israeli farmers could expect the most profit.

Though most of the imports admitted into Gaza continued to come from Israel, Gazan farmers kept pursuing self-sufficiency. In 2011, farmers working on a Hamas-government-led project in the former settlements produced avocados, mangoes, and most of the grapes, onions, and melons that Gazans ate; by 2015, though still forbidden from exporting excess, they were self-sufficient in the production of crops including onions, watermelon, cantaloupe, grapes, almonds, olives, and apples.

Support Palestinian resistance by calling Elbit System’s (Israel’s primary weapons manufacturer) landlord, donating to Palestine Action’s bail fund, and donating to the Bay Area Anti-Repression Committee bail fund.

Ingredients:

2 medium avocados (300g total)

1/4 cup white tahina

2 Tbsp labna (لبنة), or yoghurt (laban, لبن رايب)

1 green chili pepper

2 cloves garlic

2 Tbsp good olive oil

Juice of 1/2 lemon (1 1/2 Tbsp)

1 tsp table salt, or to taste

Pomegranate seeds, slivered almonds, pine nuts, chopped dill, nigella seeds, sesame seeds, sumac, and/or olive oil, to serve

Khubiz al-kmaj (pita bread), to serve

Instructions:

1. In a mortar and pestle, crush garlic, pepper, and a bit of salt into a fine paste.

2. Add avocados and mash to desired texture. Stir in tahina, labna, olive oil, lemon juice, and additional salt.

You can also combine all ingredients in a blender or food processor.

3. Top with a generous drizzle of olive oil. Add toppings, as desired.

4. Cut pita into small rectangles or triangles and separate one half from the other (along where the pocket is). Toast in the oven, or in a large, dry skillet, stirring occasionally, until golden brown. Serve dip alongside toasted pita chips.

[sadnymi]

「 ✦ The Alchemy.✦ 」

[Quidditch player Lorenzo Berkshire× famous!reader][ttpdm]

Summary:Lorenzo and Y/N shared a mischievous history during their Hogwarts days, often causing accidents and playing pranks. Years later, they crossed paths again as the most renowned figures in the wizarding world, sparking intriguing developments.

Warnings:fluff, toxic past relationship x smut.

Words:6k.

𓍯𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓍯.

The Daily Prophet's Patronus Parchment magazine:

Sparks Fly in Paris? Y/N Y/L/N Dines with Quidditch Star Lorenzo Berkshire!: Hogwarts Reunion or Something More?

Paris, France -Love was in the air in the City of Lights last night! Our very own golden girl, Y/N L/N, was spotted enjoying a cozy dinner with none other than Quidditch heartthrob Lorenzo Berkshire at a quaint Parisian bistro.

Fans were quick to recognize that Y/N and Lorenzo were Hogwarts classmates, though their paths haven't crossed publicly since their school days. But based on the lively conversation and lingering smiles captured by our eagle-eyed correspondent, their Parisian rendezvous seemed far from a casual catch-up.

Y/N, a multi-talented powerhouse, needs no introduction. From captivating social media influencer, fashion icon and model to brilliant researcher and entrepreneur, she's an inspiration to witches and wizards worldwide. The Ministry of Magic even considers her one of the brightest minds in our time! Y/N with no doubt is the it girl of our generation

Lorenzo Berkshire, has stolen hearts on the Quidditch pitch with his dazzling plays and undeniable charm. As a Chaser for the The Montrose Magpies , he's considered one of the most exciting players of his generation. known as the "most lovable boy in the wizarding world," and it seems he might have just charmed his way into our girl Y/N's company.

A Match Made in Magical Heaven? Could this Parisian rendezvous be the start of something more? The thought of these two brilliant minds and captivating personalities joining forces has the magical world abuzz. Imagine the power couple they would be!

Neither Y/N nor Lorenzo have commented on the nature of their meeting. Were they reminiscing about Hogwarts days, or is there a spark of something new brewing? Only time will tell!

One thing's for sure:This unexpected reunion has ignited the flames of curiosity. We'll be keeping our eyes peeled for any further developments!

𓍯𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓍯

when the magazine mentioned a special guest for the next photoshoot, but I wasn't fazed. They usually paired me with actors or other celebrities. Just when the office door swung open, revealing Lorenzo Berkshire himself standing beside the manager. My smile widened involuntarily, mirroring his own surprised delight.

"Y/L/N," he greeted with a charming smile, taking a seat across from me.

"Berkshire," I replied, a wave of nostalgia washing over me. We weren't exactly close in school, but we had a shared history – one I wouldn't soon forget. The memory of him accidentally ruining my dress and land spectacularly on top of me, readily came to mind. And who could forget the time I broke his Quidditch broom before that important match?

"Congratulations," I blurted out, remembering his recent victory. He'd just clinched the European League trophy, the most coveted prize in the magical sporting world, along with the title of Best Player in the League. World Champion and the best of his generation – it was a well-deserved title.

"Thanks," he smile, "and congratulations on… everything, honestly. Is there anything you can't do?"

My laugh echoed through the room."Probably stopping you from ruining my Yule Ball dress and dance," I teased.

"Ouch, low blow," he chuckled.

Our manager chimed in then, "Since you two already know each other, and are practically the biggest names in the wizarding world right now, we thought it would be perfect to have you do a double photoshoot together!"

Lorenzo and I exchanged glances, then simultaneously nodded. "Sure, no problem with me," I said.

"Me too, I'd actually really love that," he added, his voice surprisingly husky. I felt a blush creep up my cheeks as I stole another glance at him.

"Great! I'll iron out the details with your managers," she beamed, launching into a flurry of logistical planning. My attention, however, had become somewhat… divided. I found myself stealing glances at Lorenzo, a goofy grin plastered on my face. There was something about seeing him after all this time that made my heart skip a beat. Every time I caught his eye, he'd smile back.

As the meeting wrapped up, Lorenzo held the door open for me with a gentlemanly gesture. "Thanks," I smiled, a warmth spreading through me.

"Do you have anything to do now?" he asked.

I shook my head, a smile tugging at my lips. "Not really. I have the day off."

"Great, so can I get you a coffee?" His suggestion was simple, yet the way he asked, made my heart skip a beat.

"Yes, sure," I agreed readily.

Paris, with its timeless charm, never failed to enchant me. Yet, on this particular day, the city's magic paled in comparison to the warmth radiating from Lorenzo. He led me into a quaint little coffee shop, a hidden gem tucked away from the bustling crowds. The cozy atmosphere instantly calmed my nerves.

Fame – a double-edged sword. Places like this were a luxury sometimes.

Sipping on our steaming hot chocolates, we fell into conversation easily. I congratulated him on his recent victory, the European League trophy a much-deserved achievement.

"Being on the best team now, that's huge," I said, genuinely impressed. "I mean what I want to say is you really did it, Lorenzo." The pride in my voice surprised even me.

He met my gaze for a moment, his smile softening. "You too," he replied. "I might tease my teammates about knowing you from school, but honestly?"

"No way" i smiled.

He chuckled. "Almost half of them follow your Instagram like lovesick teenagers."

I couldn't help but laugh. "Seriously?"

"Absolutely. You're kind of a big deal, Y/N."

"Well, you're not doing so bad yourself, Mr. Champion," I countered, playfully returning the compliment. "you're quite the charmer yourself, Half the girls I work with seem to have graced the arms of a Quidditch star at some point you have a thing for models?”

His hand reaching up to brush something off my cheek. My heart skipped a beat as his fingers grazed my skin. "Just a little something..."

He held up a chocolate smudge from my hot chocolate. Relief washed over me, quickly replaced by a warmth that spread through my cheeks.

"Just a coincidence," he said, a hint of amusement in his voice.

"We call that a 'type,'" I teased, trying to mask my fluster.

He chuckled again. "What about that actor? What was his name… Aaron?"

My smile faltered slightly. "Antonio," I corrected, a touch of bitterness creeping into my voice.

Lorenzo seemed to pick up on the shift. "Right," he said, his gaze searching mine. "He was a jerk, by the way. His movies sucks. Glad you broke up with him. You were way out of his league."

His words warmed me more than the hot chocolate. There was something about Lorenzo, something genuine and kind, that made my heart flutter in a way it never had before.

"Yeah, he was," I admitted, a genuine smile returning to my face. "Tell him that," I added playfully, "because he cheated."

Lorenzo's smile dropped. "I'm so sorry," he said, his voice sincere. "That's messed up."

"It's okay, truly," I reassured him. "I'm way over it."

The conversation flowed effortlessly from there. We reminisced about Hogwarts, teased each other about past crushes, and shared stories from our careers. Time seemed to slip away unnoticed, the afternoon sun dipping below the horizon painting the sky in hues of orange and pink.

"Let me drive you back to your hotel," Lorenzo offered, his voice gentle. The warmth in his eyes sent a familiar flutter through my chest.

The ride back was filled with laughter and easy conversation.By the time we reached my hotel, a pang of disappointment settled in my stomach.

"So," Lorenzo began, his voice hesitant as he stopped the car, "I really enjoyed today. I'm glad I met you again, Y/N."

My gaze met his, and the intensity in his eyes sent a shiver down my spine, and the playful banter of the day took a more serious turn. Looking up at him, my heart pounded a frantic rhythm against my ribs. A feeling bloomed within me – a warmth unlike anything I'd ever known.

"Me too," I whispered, my voice barely above a breath.

"I didn't want this to end here," he murmured.

My heart soared. The butterflies returned, a swarm of them taking flight in my stomach. "Me neither," I confessed, mirroring his sentiment.

A slow smile spread across his face. "Can I take you to dinner tomorrow?" he asked, his voice husky with unspoken emotions.

The world seemed to shrink to just the two of us. A wide smile bloomed on my face. "Yes," I breathed, "I'd love that."

My smile stretched wider. For the first time in a long time, I felt a genuine connection, a spark of something real.

Tipping my toes up, I leaned in and brushed a soft kiss against his cheek. His breath hitched, and a flicker of surprise crossed his features before melting into a smile.

With a final lingering look, I stepped into the elevator, As the doors closed, I couldn't help but lean back against the cool metal.

Lorenzo Berkshire. On a date. With me. The little girl inside me would have laughed hysterically at the very notion back in school.

Today, however, was anything but a joke. Today was perfect. From the fancy Parisian restaurant with its impeccable service and breathtaking view, to Lorenzo himself, with his easy charm and genuine conversation, it was a fairytale come true. By the end of the night, I couldn't deny the giddy, lovestruck teenager bubbling beneath the surface.

As we exited the restaurant, paparazzi swarmed, cameras flashing like angry fireflies. We were caught in HD.

"I really liked you back at school, you know?" he confessed as we finally reached his car, the Eiffel Tower shimmering majestically in the distance. I perched myself leaned against his luxury .

"Wait, really?" Surprise mingled with a secret delight I hadn't allowed myself to acknowledge before.

"Really," he chuckled. "Though I wouldn't say I didn't mind ruining your Yule Ball dress a little."

My jaw dropped, then a laugh erupted from my lips. "So that wasn't an accident?"

"Maybe not entirely," he admitted with a sheepish grin. "Needed a reason to talk to you and stop you from dancing with that stupid boy. Besides you were always surrounded by your girls."

A blush crept up my cheeks. "I did that on purpose too being angry and act like running the dress was a big deal ," I confessed. "So you'd notice me." Schoolyard tactics, but it seemed they had worked.

The revelation hung between us for a moment, a shared secret from our past. Then, Lorenzo leaned down, his lips brushing my ear. "Well, it worked. And you, Y/N, have become even more beautiful than I ever remembered." His voice was a husky whisper, sending a rush of heat through me.”

His breath sent shivers down my spine. Before I could respond, he cupped my face in his hands and kissed me. It was a soft, hesitant touch at first, then deepened, his lips moving perfectly with mine. The world melted away, leaving only the warmth of his touch and the intoxicating feeling of him.

He finally pulled away, his eyes searching mine. My heart hammered against my ribs, my breath coming in shallow gasps.

We reached my hotel in a comfortable silence, the kiss hanging heavy in the air. Stepping out of the car, I hesitated, looking up at him.

"Do you want to come in?" The words tumbled out before I could stop them, an entirely unexpected invitation.

The moment we got into the room and the door closed, we jumped into each other, he kissed me again, pushing me up against the wall. My hands found their way to his chest, feeling the heat of his body through his shirt. His lips were soft, yet insistent, and I moaned into the kiss.

My dress rode up as he lifted me, his hands gripping my bare legs. I wrapped my legs around his waist. I could feel his hardness pressing against me, and I rocked my hips, desperate for more.

He pushed my dress up, his fingers tracing a path up my bare legs. I shivered as he reached my thighs, his fingers teasing the edge of my lace panties.

"You're so wet," he murmured, his fingers tracing the outline of my pussy through the fabric. "I can't wait to taste you."

His lips trailing down my neck. I tilted my head back, giving him better access. His stubble scratching against my skin, sending shivers down my spine. He pulled my dress over my head, leaving me standing in nothing but my matching lacy black bra and panties.

Lorenzo looked at me like I was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen, and it made me feel powerful.

I reached for his shirt, undoing the buttons slowly. I wanted to savor every moment of this, to remember every touch and every kiss.

Lorenzo helped me, shrugging out of his shirt and tossing it aside, I ran my hands over his chest, feeling the muscles ripple under my fingertips.

"Fuck, you're beautiful," he whispered, his lips finding mine again.

I moaned as he kissed me, my hands exploring his body. I could feel his hard length pressing against me, and I knew that I needed him inside of me.

"Let me show you how good I can make you feel baby."

He picked me up again, carrying me to the bed. He laid me down gently, his body covering mine. I could feel his hardness pressing against my core, and I rocked my hips, desperate for friction.

He kissed me again, his tongue exploring my mouth. I met his tongue with mine, our kiss growing more passionate.

"I want to leave marks all over your body. Can you handle it?" I nodded in response and pulled him to another kiss.

He trailed his lips down my body, his hands cupping my breasts.

"I've been thinking about this all day.“ He squeezed them gently, his thumbs brushing over my nipples. I arched my back, pressing my breasts into his hands.

He took one nipple into his mouth, sucking and biting gently. I arched my back, moaning with pleasure. He moved to the other breast, giving it the same attention. I cried out, my fingers digging into his shoulders.

“I want to taste every inch of you. Spread your legs wider for me." He moved down my body, his lips leaving a trail of fire in their wake.

He hooked his fingers into my panties, I nodded, he pulled them down slowly. I lifted my hips, helping him, exposing my wetness. He kissed my inner thighs, teasing me, working his way up to my core.

He ran his tongue along my slit, making me gasp. He teased my clit, his tongue flicking back and forth. I moaned, my hips bucking up I moaned loudly, grabbing onto the sheets.

"Don't stop, please Enzo fuck, you're so good at this," I begged.

He slipped a finger inside me, curling it up to hit my G-spot,and I exploded. I screamed his name, my orgasm washing over me.

He didn't stop, continuing to lick and suck on my clit. He added another finger, fucking me with his fingers. His tongue still teasing my clit. I could feel my orgasm building again, my body tensing up. He increased his pace, fucking me harder. I cried out, and came again, my body shaking.

He kissed his way back up my body, his lips meeting mine. I could taste myself on his lips, and it only made me want him more. He reached for his pants, pulling out a condom. I watched as he rolled it on, my body thrumming with anticipation.

He positioned himself at my entrance, his tip teasing me.

"Do you want me to fuck you?" He whispered in my ear, his voice husky with desire. I nodded, unable to speak.He thrust into me, filling me completely. I cried out, my nails digging into his back.

He started fucking me, hard and fast. I met him thrust for thrust, our bodies slapping together. He pounded into me, and I could feel another orgasm building up.

"Fuck, you feel good," he moaned, his lips finding my neck.

He sucked on my neck, his teeth grazing my skin. I moaned as he bit down, my orgasm building again.

"please Enzo," I begged, my nails digging into his back.

“ please what baby?” Lorenzo picked up the pace, his hips slamming against mine. I could feel the orgasm building, my muscles tensing.

"You're so tight around me. Do you like it when I fill you up like this?" He say , and I kept nodding at him he pushed my tears away and put kisses in there places.

He reached down, rubbing my clit. I came again, my walls clenching around his cock, and I could feel him getting closer to his release.

I screamed as I came, my body shaking with the force of the orgasm.

He thrust a few more times, and then he stilled. I could feel him cumming inside me, and I moaned. He collapsed on top of me, both of us panting heavily.

He rolled off me, and I snuggled up next to him. We lay there, our bodies entwined, as we caught our breath. I couldn't believe what had just happened. It was the hottest sex I had ever had.

“Forget about the European league, this is the best night of my fucking life,” he said, a satisfied grin on his face.

I huckled softly, resting my head on his chest while playing with his hand. “Me too,” I whispered, feeling a rush of warmth and affection for him.

He turned to me, his gaze softening as he took my hand in his and brought it to his lips, placing a gentle kiss on my palm. “I don’t want it to be just a one-night thing,” he confessed, his eyes searching mine for a reaction.

My heart skipped a beat at his words. I had to admit, the connection we shared tonight felt deeper than just physical attraction. I traced circles on his chest with my finger, pondering his statement.

"I don't want that either," I admitted, feeling a sense of vulnerability and honesty between us.

𓍯𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓍯

The Daily Prophet's Patronus Parchment magazine:

Love in the Air: Y/N Y/L/N and Lorenzo Berkshire Spark Dating Rumors (Again!)

The rumor mill is churning once more, thanks to the undeniable chemistry between Y/N Y/L/N and Quidditch superstar Lorenzo Berkshire.

Holding Hands in London. Sharp-eyed fans spotted the pair strolling hand-in-hand through the charming streets of London. This heartwarming sight comes after their Parisian rendezvous last month and now-famous photoshoot, fueled further speculation of a blossoming romance.

Despite the growing buzz, Y/N and Lorenzo remain tight-lipped. Neither has officially confirmed their relationship status, leaving fans to decipher the undeniable sparks flying between them.

A Match Made in Magical Heaven? The pairing has the entire magical world swooning. Y/N, the multifaceted influencer, model, and researcher, and Lorenzo, the charming and talented Quidditch champion – they're a dream couple on paper and even more captivating in reality.

Is it Real? The lingering question remains. Is this a whirlwind summer fling, or the start of something truly special? Only time will tell. One thing's for sure: we'll be keeping a close eye on these two lovebirds!

𓍯𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓍯

Lorenzo sprawled on the couch, a defeated sigh escaping his lips as he surveyed the culinary disaster in the center of the coffee table. What started out as a valiant attempt at a romantic home-cooked dinner had morphed into something resembling a misshapen, charcoal-tinged UFO.

"Don't worry about it," I chirped, trying to sound more confident than I felt. "Those YouTube tutorials made it look so easy!" Maybe a dash of optimism would salvage the situation.

Lorenzo took a valiant bite, his face contorting into a grimace he tried his best to disguise. "It's...interesting," he managed, his voice thick with forced cheer. Bless him, he was trying so hard.

I snatched the offending slice from his hand before he could ingest another questionable morsel. "You're adorable, but food poisoning is not on the menu tonight." A laugh bubbled out of me, the tension easing.

He pulled me in for a kiss, flour smudging his cheek. I couldn't help but giggle as I retaliated, dusting a heart and smiley face onto his face with the rogue flour.

grabbed another wad of dough and shaped it into a heart, a playful smile adorning its surface. Flour dusted his face as I added finishing touches, my smile widening at his sheepish grin.

"Aww, look at you," I teased, pulling out my phone to capture the moment. A picture of the unknown -shaped pizza and Lorenzo, flour-dusted and grinning, filled the screen.

My finger hovered over the 'post' button. Suddenly, a wave of uncertainty washed over me. Was it too soon? Too public?

"Hey," Lorenzo murmured, his voice soft as he tilted my chin up. "What's wrong?" His gaze followed mine to the phone screen.

"I was just...thinking," I admitted.

"About posting it?" A smile tugged at the corner of his lips.

"Yeah," I mumbled. "Is it weird?"

He shook his head, his smile widening. "Absolutely not. Post it. Put a million red hearts on it, let the world know you have a boyfriend."

The playful jab sent a blush creeping up my cheeks. "Boyfriend, huh?" I teased, a shy smile gracing my lips.

He leaned in, his eyes holding mine. "I'm whatever you want me to be, Y/N. Just know that I'm serious about you."

My heart did a little flip-flop in my chest. "Me too," I whispered, the words tumbling out before I could stop them.

With newfound confidence, I hit 'post,' adding a caption: > Dinner may not have gone according to plan, but the company is definitely five stars! ❤️❤️❤️.

𓍯𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓍯

The Daily Prophet's Patronus Parchment magazine:

Antonio Garcia's Latest Film Flops: Karma's a Witch, or Just Bad Scripting?

Box Office Blues: Antonio Garcia's highly anticipated film, "Galactic Guardians," has crash-landed at the box office, leaving critics and audiences equally unimpressed. The film, touted as a summer blockbuster, has garnered a mountain of negative reviews, with many citing a weak plot and forgettable characters.

Worse Reviews Than Revenue: The critical drubbing is compounded by the film's dismal financial performance. "Galactic Guardians" struggles to pull in viewers, with its earnings barely covering its production budget. This financial flop marks a significant setback for Garcia, who previously enjoyed a string of successful films.

Karma's Calling? The timing of this double whammy couldn't be more curious, especially considering Garcia's personal life. News of his messy breakup with Y/N Y/L/N, the wildly popular model and influencer, dominated headlines last year. Rumors of infidelity swirled around Garcia, rumors he never fully addressed. Many fans are quick to draw a line between his alleged infidelity and the film's disastrous performance, whispering of a touch of karmic justice.

Coincidence or Consequence? Whether this is a case of bad scriptwriting or cosmic payback remains to be seen. One thing is certain: Antonio Garcia's career has hit a major snag. Can he bounce back from this double blow? Only time will tell, but one thing's for sure – Y/N seems to be doing just fine. In fact, she's recently been spotted with Quidditch champion Lorenzo Berkshire, and the pair seem to be radiating pure happiness. Looks like karma might have a sweeter side.

𓍯𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓍯

Lorenzo dimmed the living room lights, the soft glow of the TV casting flickering shadows on the walls. We were sprawled on the couch, a mountain of popcorn between us, halfway through a cheesy rom-com that neither of us were taking very seriously.

Suddenly, I hit pause, the silence thick after the movie's soundtrack abruptly cut off. Lorenzo looked at me, a questioning eyebrow raised.

"Hey," I said, taking a deep breath. "Can I tell you something?"

He scooted closer, concern etched on his face. "Of course, Y/N. What's wrong?"

The words tumbled out, a jumbled mess of emotions. I told him about Antonio, about how young and naive I was back then, how he used me for everything I had to offer: my fame, my connections, everything but me. I confessed to feeling unloved, unseen, a trophy on his arm rather than a real person. And then, the final blow – the cheating rumors that turned out to be all too true.

"You were so young," he murmured, his voice filled with empathy. "He didn't deserve you, Y/N. Not even close."

His words were like a balm to my soul, the anger and hurt momentarily soothed. He pulled me closer, and I rested my head on his shoulder, the familiar scent of his cologne grounding me.

"You know what the best part about all this is?" I whispered, my voice thick with emotion.

He shook his head, his arms tightening around me.

"The best part is you," I confessed, looking up into his eyes. "You are the best thing that's ever happened to me, Lorenzo. You make me feel seen, valued, loved – everything I never felt with him."

A smile tugged at the corner of his lips, his eyes filled with an emotion I couldn't decipher. Then, he leaned down, his lips brushing softly against my ear, "I love you," he murmured.

The words hung in the air, heavy and unexpected. My breath hitched, surprise flickering across my face. Love? Here, now, with Lorenzo? It felt like a beautiful dream, too perfect to be real.

"Enzo…" I stammered, completely thrown off guard.

He cupped my face in his hands, his thumbs gently brushing away stray tears. "Don't say anything," he pleaded, his eyes searching mine. "Just know that I do. I have for a while now."

Taking a deep breath, I met his gaze, my voice trembling slightly. "I… I love you too, Enzo."

A wide smile bloomed on his face, a smile that mirrored the warmth blossoming in my chest. The cheesy rom-com on the screen suddenly seemed unimportant.

One night, while he was staying over at my apartment, we found ourselves in a candid conversation.

I admitted that the first orgasm I had ever experienced was with him, after our first date. The confession seemed to shock him. After all, I had dated Antonio for three long years, so it was a significant revelation for both of us.

𓍯𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓍯

The Daily Prophet's Patronus Parchment magazine:

Antonio Garcia's Sour Grapes: Y/N Y/L/N Responds with Class

A Case of Ex-xcuses? In a recent interview promoting his (commercially challenged) new film, Antonio Garcia took a not-so-subtle jab at his ex-girlfriend, Y/N Y/L/N. When asked about his ideal partner, Garcia launched into a rambling diatribe about needing someone "grounded" and "focused," seemingly throwing shade at Y/N's multifaceted career as a model, influencer, researcher, and all-around powerhouse. Sources close to the actor claim he's been making negative comments about her to anyone who will listen. Considering their public breakup last year, fueled by rumors of Antonio's infidelity (which he never fully denied), this behavior comes as no surprise.

Lorenzo Berkshire Sings Y/N's Praises: When asked about Y/N during a recent interview, Lorenzo's face lit up with a genuine smile. " She's the kind of person who makes everyone around her better." His words paint a picture of a strong, supportive woman – the complete opposite of the image Antonio is trying to portray.

Fans Rally Behind Y/N: Needless to say, the internet erupted in support of Y/N. Fans flooded her comments with messages of empowerment and praise, applauding her success and her dignified response. Many pointed out that while Antonio struggles with box office flops, Y/N continues to excel in every aspect of her life.

𓍯𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓍯

Today was the day. The Montrose Magpies, Lorenzo's team, were facing off against their fiercest rivals, Puddlemere United. It was always a tense match, but this year, the stakes felt even higher. The crowd crackled with energy, a mix of nervous anticipation and Magpies pride.

I knew Lorenzo would be incredible. He exuded a quiet confidence that was contagious. Before he stepped onto the field, I leaned in and kissed him softly. "Good luck," I whispered, my voice barely above a murmur. He smiled, a hint of nerves flickering in his usually calm eyes.

"I don't need luck with you cheering me on," he replied, squeezing my hand before disappearing into the tunnel.

The match was a whirlwind. Both teams played with an intensity that bordered on aggression. Cheering and groans filled the stadium as players soared and cursed, the Quaffle whizzing through the air at lightning speed. Penalties were called, tempers flared, and the score remained stubbornly tied.

Just when it seemed like the game might go into overtime, Lorenzo pulled off a move that defied gravity. He weaved through a sea of Puddlemere Chasers with the grace of a dancer, dodging Bludgers left and right. Finally, with a powerful flick of his wrist, the Quaffle soared through the goalposts.

The crowd erupted in a frenzy. Fans screamed, flags waved, and the stadium pulsed with pure joy. The Magpies had won! Lorenzo, the hero of the day, was hoisted onto his teammates' shoulders, the golden trophy gleaming in the afternoon sun.

He spotted me in the VIP section and winked, a playful glint in his eyes. As the celebrations on the pitch unfolded, Lorenzo made his way over, a wide grin plastered on his face. He scooped me up in a hug, the trophy still clutched in his hand, and planted a celebratory kiss on my lips. The taste of victory and the warmth of his touch sent shivers down my spine.

Moments later, I received a text from Lorenzo. Just two words: "Come over, baby." My heart skipped a beat. It wasn't unusual for us to meet up later, but the changing room? That felt… different. A knot of worry formed in my stomach. Was everything okay? Had he gotten injured?

With a mixture of apprehension and excitement, I excused myself and headed for the changing room . My mind raced with possibilities as I knocked on the door, a nervous flutter in my chest. The door creaked open, revealing Lorenzo, his hair damp from the shower.

Before I could question the unorthodox location, he wrapped his arms around me, pulling me close. "There you are," he whispered, his voice husky with something that wasn't just exertion.

fingers tangling in my hair as he deepened the kiss. I could feel his desire, hard against my thigh, and I couldn't help but respond. My own hands found their way to his shoulders, then up to tangle in his damp hair.

"Lorenzo," I murmured, breaking the kiss for a moment. "What about your teammates?"

He smiled, a wicked glint in his eye. "They all left. It's just you and me here, babe."

My heart skipped a beat at his words. I had never been with him in such a public place before, and the thrill of the possibility was intoxicating. Before I could protest, his lips were on mine once more, his hands working their way under my shirt, caressing my skin.

I moaned softly as his fingers found my nipples, teasing them to hard points through the lace of my bra. His other hand was busy undoing my jeans, pulling them down just enough to free me from the constraints of my underwear. I could feel the cool metal of the locker against my back as he pressed me against it, his hips grinding against mine.

His mouth moved from my lips, down my neck, nipping and sucking at the sensitive skin. I gasped as his teeth grazed my ear, his hot breath sending shivers down my spine. "You like that?" he murmured, his voice low and husky.

I could only nod, my breath coming in short, desperate gasps. His fingers continued to tease my nipples, his thumb brushing against them in slow circles. I could feel the heat building between my legs, my body aching for him.

My breath hitched, and I nodded, my hands gripping his shoulders. "Yes, Enzo, don't stop."

He didn't need any further encouragement. His fingers left my nipples, tracing a path down my stomach, then lower still. I gasped as he found my clit, his fingers circling it in slow, teasing movements.

"You're dripping wet for me," he murmured, his voice full of satisfaction “You're my favorite addiction. I can't get enough of you."

His fingers slid lower, parting my folds, then entering me in one swift movement. I cried out, my back arching off the locker as he began to thrust them in and out, each movement sending waves of pleasure crashing through me.

"Yes, just like that," I I moaned, my hips bucking against his hand.

He continued to fuck me with his fingers, his thumb still teasing my clit. I could feel myself growing closer and closer to the edge, my body tensing with each thrust.

"The way you look at me when I touch you drives me wild. Keep those eyes on me,"

His words sent me over the edge. I cried out, my orgasm crashing over me like a wave. I could feel myself clenching around his fingers, my body shaking with the force of my release.

Lorenzo didn't give me a chance to catch my breath. He pulled his fingers out of me, his lips curling into a wicked smile as he brought them to his mouth, tasting my release.

“ I love how you moan when I do this. You're mine, all mine." he murmured.

Before I could recover, he was pushing me back against the locker, his hips grinding against mine. I could feel his cock, hard and hot, pressed against my entrance.

"Do you want me to take you right here, right now?"he asked, his voice low and husky.

I could only nod, my breath coming in short gasps. I was more than ready. I needed him inside me, filling me up, claiming me as his own.

He didn't make me wait any longer. With one swift thrust, he was inside me, his cock filling me up completely. I cried out, my back arching off the locker as he began to thrust in and out, each movement sending waves of pleasure crashing through me.

I could feel myself growing closer and closer to another orgasm, my body tensing with each thrust.

He didn't hold back. His thrusts grew harder, faster, his cock hitting that spot inside me that drove me wild. I could feel myself teetering on the edge, my body begging for release.

“I want you to say my name when you come. Let me hear how good I make you feel."

I cried out, my orgasm crashing over me like a wave. I could feel myself clenching around his cock, my body shaking with the force of my release.

Lorenzo followed me over the edge, his own orgasm ripping through him. I could feel him pulse inside me, filling me up with his release.

He collapsed against me, his breathing ragged. I could feel his heart racing, matching my own.

His lips finding mine once more.

My body still trembling with the aftershocks of my orgasm. I had never experienced anything like that before, and I knew that I would never forget it.

"I never knew public places could be this thrilling," I whispered, still caught in the haze of pleasure.

Lorenzo smiled, his eyes full of affection. "Don’t worry I have a lot of in my mind for you " he promised, his lips claiming mine in another searing kiss.

𓍯𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓍯

[batmanschmatman]

Book Rec: Coming Out Under Fire, by Allan Bérubé

Occasionally I see some discourse on Tumblr from folks in the HBO War fandom or different historical/history adjacent fandoms about how there weren’t that many members of the queer community involved in WWII, and I’d really like to point them and everyone else with an interest in queer history to this wonderful book. Originally published in 1990, Coming Out Under Fire gets into all the different ways queer folks DID participate in the war. It’s from an American perspective, so if you’re looking for other Allied experiences, unfortunately there won’t be much here for you, but it’s exceptionally well researched, and crucially a lot of the content comes from interviews with surviving servicemembers. There’s also a documentary based on the book, which came out a few years later and includes video interviews with some of the folks included in the text.

One of Bérubé’s main points in his introduction – and for writing the book in the first place – is the American government, history textbooks, Hollywood, etc. is able to paint the WWII-era military as an almost entirely straight military force because many queer people who participated in the war effort were silenced during their lifetimes, and were unable or unwilling to reveal their true identities. Some of this was from societal pressure – the post war period saw a huge surge in homophobic rhetoric and persecution in the name of fighting Communism, not to mention the ever present heteronormative pressure to get married and have kids – but also because so many queer veterans died during the AIDS epidemic. Bérubé was inspired to preserve the voices of those who were still with us and shed a light on some of the folks we lost. (Note that this was also an intensely personal issue for Bérubé, who lost friends and his partner to AIDS and thus saw first hand how devastating this was to the community in terms of robbing us of our loved ones, friends, elders, and history itself.)

In the book, Bérubé makes the point over and over again that queer people were involved at basically every level in the American military during the war. There’s stories about guys lying when asked “Do you like girls?” during enlistment, lesbians in the Women’s Army Corps being brought to trial for fraternizing, drag shows in POW camps and in reserve, front line combat veterans discussing losing romantic partners to enemy fire or coming out to foxhole buddies, who were supportive allies rather than hateful. One of my favorite stories that’s always stuck out to me is a guy who came home and decided to come out to his elderly mother, who was fully accepting and supportive of her son’s sexuality. I see so many people speaking in absolutes that there’s NO WAY you could come out to your family and be accepted in the past, and while that was certainly true for so many people, it’s also not an absolute truth.

Please note I am NOT giving blanket permission to make assumptions about real-life people’s sexualities or identities, nor am I saying Band of Brothers fics where half the company is dating each other are historically accurate, but it’s really sad to see folks on here (unknowingly, hopefully) perpetuating the myth that there really weren’t that many queer folks in the military during WWII. We were there, we just couldn’t be out the way we might have liked to be. After the war, the Red Scare, societal pressure, and a literal epidemic silenced countless members of the community about their time in the service. There’s no way to know how many people who fought on Guadalcanal or worked at stateside bases or sorted mail in France were queer, but it’s a lot more than you were led to believe.

As a member of the community and a historian (brief resume: MA in Public History, BA in American History, have published stuff and created exhibits for dozens of museums), I just want to remind folks that we have always been here, and our lives weren’t always miserable and tragic when we came out to people or decided to live as authentically as we could get away with. It’s not completely historically inaccurate to write fic or original fiction where your queer characters can come out to their families and not be shunned, or live with their partners and not be immediately murdered. Being queer wasn’t invented at Stonewall.

[studentofetherium]

i have a new blog post out and this one is long! herein, i detail the history of every* TYPE-MOON work to see who made these projects happen. Nasu is the one everyone points to when it comes to TYPE-MOON works, but there are countless other people involved in the various games, novels, and anime that the studio has been apart of. herein, i talk about TYPE-MOON, their history, and all the various people who have worked to bring the company to where it is today

give it a read!

[fatehbaz]

when the British Empire's researchers realized that the cause of the ecological devastation was the British Empire:

much to consider.

on the motives and origins of some forms of imperial "environmentalism".

---

Since the material resources of colonies were vital to the metropolitan centers of empire, some of the earliest conservation practices were established outside of Europe [but established for the purpose of protecting the natural resources desired by metropolitan Europe]. [...] [T]ropical island colonies were crucial laboratories of empire, as garden incubators for the transplantation of peoples [slaves, laborers] and plants [cash crops] and for generating the European revival of Edenic discourse. Eighteenth-century environmentalism derived from colonial island contexts in which limited space and an ideological model of utopia contributed to new models of conservation [...]. [T]ropical island colonies were at the vanguard of establishing forest reserves and environmental legislation [...]. These forest reserves, like those established in New England and South Africa, did not necessarily represent "an atavistic interest in preserving the 'natural' [...]" but rather a "more manipulative and power-conscious interest in constructing a new landscape by planting trees [in monoculture or otherwise modified plantations] [...]" [...].

Text by: Elizabeth DeLoughrey and George B. Handley. "Introduction: Toward an Aesthetics of the Earth". Postcolonial Ecologies: Literatures of the Environment, edited by DeLoughrey and Handley. 2011.

---

It is no accident that the earliest writers to comment specifically on rapid environmental change in the context of empires were scientists who were themselves often actors in the process of colonially stimulated environmental change. [...] As early as the mid-17th century [...] natural philosophers [...] in Bermuda, [...] in Barbados and [...] on St Helena [all British colonies] were all already well aware of characteristically high rates of soil erosion and deforestation in the colonial tropics [...]. On St Helena and Bermuda this early conservationism led, by 1715, to the gazetting of the first colonial forest reserves and forest protection laws. On French colonial Mauritius [...], Poivre and Philibert Commerson framed pioneering forest conservation [...] in the 1760s. In India William Roxburgh, Edward Balfour [...] ([...] Scottish medical scientists) wrote alarmist narratives relating deforestation to the danger of climate change. [...] East India Company scientists were also well aware of French experience in trying to prevent deforestation [...] [in] Mauritius. [...] Roxburgh [...] went on to further observe the incidence of global drought events which we know today were globally tele-connected El Nino events. [...] The writings of Edward Balfour and Hugh Cleghorn in the late 1840s in particular illustrate the extent of the permeation of a global environmental consciousness [...]. [T]he 1860s [were] a period which we could appropriately name the "first environmental decade", and which embodies a convergence of thinking about ecological change on a world scale [...]. It was in the particular circumstances of environmental change at the colonial periphery that what we would now term "environmentalism" first made itself felt [...]. Victorian texts such as [...] Ribbentrop's Forestry in the British Empire, Brown's Hydrology of South Africa, Cleghorn's Forests and Gardens of South India [...] were [...] vital to the onset of environmentalism [...]. One preoccupation stands out in them above all. This was a growing interest in the potential human impact on climate change [...] [and] global dessication. This fear grew steadily in the wake of colonial expansion [...]. Particularly after the 1860s, and even more after the great Indian famines of 1876 [...] these connections encouraged and stimulated the idea that human history and environmental change might be firmly linked.

Text by: Richard Grove and Vinita Damodaran. "Imperialism, Intellectual Networks, and Environmental Change: Origins and Evolution of Global Environmental History, 1676-2000: Part I". Economic and Political Weekly Vol. 41, No. 41. 14 October 2006.

---

Policing the interior [of British colonial land] following the Naning War gave Newbold the opportunity for exploring the people and landscape around Melaka […]. Newbold took his knowledge of the tropical environment in the Straits Settlements [British Malaya] to Madras [British India], where he earned a reputation as a naturalist and an Orientalist of some eminence. He was later elected Fellow of the Royal Society. Familiar with the barren landscape of the tin mines of Negeri Sembilan, Newbold made a seminal link between deforestation and the sand dune formations and siltation […]. The observation, published in 1839 […], alerted […] Balfour about the potential threat of erosion to local climate and agriculture. […] Logan brought his Peninsular experience [in the British colonies of Malaya] directly within the focus of the deforestation debate in India […]. His lecture to the Bengal Asiatic Society in 1846 […] was hugely influential and put the Peninsula at the heart of the emerging discourse on tropical ecology. Penang, the perceived tropical paradise of abundance and stability, soon revealed its vulnerability to human [colonial] despoilment […].

Text by: Jeyamalar Kathirithamby-Wells. "Peninsular Malaysia in the Context of Natural History and Colonial Science". New Zealand Journal of Asian Studies 11, 1. June 2009.

---

British colonial forestry was arguably one of the most extensive imperial frameworks of scientific natural resource management anywhere [...]. [T]he roots of conservation [...] lay in the role played by scientific communities in the colonial periphery [...]. In India,[...] in 1805 [...] the court of directors of the East India Company sent a dispatch enquiring [...] [about] the Royal Navy [and its potential use of wood from Malabar's forests] [...]. This enquiry led to the appointment of a forest committee which reported that extensive deforestation had taken place and recommended the protection of the Malabar forests on grounds that they were valuable property. [...] [T]o step up the extraction of teak to augment the strength of the Royal Navy [...] [b]etween 1806 and 1823, the forests of Malabar were protected by means of this monopoly [...]. The history of British colonial forestry, however, took a decisive turn in the post-1860 period [...]. Following the revolt of 1857, the government of India sought to pursue active interventionist policies [...]. Experts were deployed as 'scientific soldiers' and new agencies established. [...] The paradigm [...] was articulated explicitly in the first conference [Empire Forestry Conference] by R.S. Troup, a former Indian forest service officer and then the professor of forestry at Oxford. Troup began by sketching a linear model of the development of human relationship with forests, arguing that the human-forest interaction in civilized societies usually went through three distinct phases - destruction, conservation, and economic management. Conservation was a ‘wise and necessary measure’ but it was ‘only a stage towards the problem of how best to utilise the forest resources of the empire’. The ultimate ideal was economic management, [...] to exploit 'to the full [...]' and provide regular supplies [...] to industry.

Text by: Ravi Rajan. "Modernizing Nature: Tropical Forestry and the Contested Legacy of British Colonial Eco-Development, 1800-2000". Oxford Historical Monographs series, Oxford University Press. January 2006.

---

The “planetary consciousness” produced by this systemizing of nature [during the rise of Linnaean taxonomy classification in eighteenth-century European science] […] increased the mobility of paradise discourse [...]. As European colonial expansion accelerated, the homogenizing transformation of people, economy and nature which it catalyzed also gave rise to a myth of lost paradise, which served as a register […] for obliterated cultures, peoples, and environments [devastated by that same European colonization], and as a measure of the rapid ecological changes, frequently deforestation and desiccation, generated by colonizing capital. On one hand, this myth served to suppress dissent by submerging it in melancholy, but on the other, it promoted the emergence of an imperialist environmental critique which would motivate the later establishment of colonial botanical gardens, potential Edens in which nature could be re-made. However, the subversive potential of the “green” critique voiced through the myth of endangered paradise was defused by the extent to which growing environmental sensibilities enabled imperialism to function more efficiently by appropriating botanical knowledge and indigenous conservation methods, thus continuing to serve the purposes of European capital.

Text by: Sharae Deckard. Paradise Discourse, Imperialism, and Globalization: Exploiting Eden. 2010.

[punkpandapatrixk]

Full Cold Moon in Cancer ♦︎ Moon Magick Pick A Card

Happy New Year~!🍀It’s January already but, gosh, aren’t we all still preparing for the spring equinox this year🍓That’s when the real new year begins, aenergetically~🎍

The Full Cold Moon on 26th December carried a theme surrounding Home and Hearth. It touches on our IC (Imum Coeli) and 4th House in our natal chart. The IC tells us who we are when no one’s watching, and after we become super clear about that, it helps us realise what kinds of company are legitimately good for our sense of belonging in this mortal world.

Your IC can literally shed light unto the reasons you feel alone and separated from the people around. The Full Cold Moon in Cancer—ruler of the 4th House—invites us to take a look at our sense of familyship whilst being incarnate on Earth.

People on this Planet have been struggling with an immense sense of loneliness since the introduction of social media; isn’t that strange? How is it that the more people we’re able to connect with the more miserable we feel on the inside? Well, isn’t it clear that social media has helped us become more aware of what’s truly FAKE when it comes to human connections?💍

Our IC deeply craves real familial connections. Moving forward, wouldn’t you rather entertain soul-based friendships that really care about your wellbeing as a Human being? This Cold Full Moon in Cancer, you’re invited to once again die to everything and everyone that doesn’t make you feel seen, heard, respected, or wanted👻

Fake connections, whether online or offline, can go fuck ‘emselves🥢

[Masterlist] [Patreon] [Paid Readings]

☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・.

Pile 1 – The Choice to be Free Has Always Been Yours to Make

i d e n t i t y – Knight of Pentacles

Others may think you are mad, but you of all people know there is method to your madness. More than everybody else gives you credit for, you’re actually somebody who’s very strategizing. You are careful with your plans and you think very many things through before you execute your plan. Others simply do not understand this mechanism in your brain because you’re quite unique, quite unorthodox even. This Full Cold Moon, you are invited to ponder if the source of your misery is actually other people’s beliefs about you rather than your actual incapability.

Just because you’re following a strange path of your own doesn’t mean you’re doing something wrong. Weirdos throughout history have changed societies for the better. We should all be thankful to weirdos—and especially, WITCHES. Did you know that WAY TOO MANY of our advances in science and medicine were actually done by witches? They burnt and hanged the witches and took credit for all of their hard work. Tsk tsk tsk… I raise my cup to all y’all witches who’s working to blast open new pathways for the rest of Mankind🍸Keep doing you. Keep going because spring will surprise you with loads of delights~🍬

s e r e n i t y – Queen of Pentacles Rx

You’re a helpful soul, that much is apparent. But you’ve got to learn some discernment so that you don’t get taken advantage of very easily. What the Queen of Pentacles in reverse is trying to show you is that, unfortunately, too many people in this world don’t even deserve to be helped. Not by you, at least. Unless you’re getting paid for rehabbing messed up people, let them deal with their own mess and grow up from it. Ultimately the Queen of Pentacles Rx is cautioning you against letting messed up people in your inner circle because these types of people are gonna bring their mess into your Life.

You get to decide, with your skilled discernment, who’s worth helping, fighting for; who’s worth keeping because they give you just as much affection. If, in order to keep serenity in your world you must look like a stingy bitch, let it be. Be selective with who you give your time and money to. Make sure you aren’t sucked dry of spiritual aenergy yourself. Your Higher Self and team of Spirit Guides are saying, this whole winter you’ve got shit to manifest—big, big shit. Preserve your precious aenergy so you can manifest real, long-lasting results~!🌳

f a m i l y – 8 of Cups Rx

Having said all of that, this card is saying: don’t easily walk away from things and endeavours that you know from deep within your heart matter. I think you’re so dreamy and floaty that you could have a hard time being realistic when it comes to the physical manifestation of your real desires. You could think, since they’re unrealistic, you might as well give up and choose to focus on other more pragmatic pursuits. If you must leave, leave the people and environments that don’t support your heart’s desires—don’t leave the desires and end up becoming very unhappy with yourself! After all, with your already methodical mind, you actually have all the power in you to bridge your dreams to Reality.

That’s why, honey, the freedom to be free has always been in your mind. Now you’ve just got to make the right decision—what kind of freedom is real freedom to you? The freedom to choose to kowtow to societal expectations or the freedom to walk your own path no matter how lonely (at first)?

‘If you end up with a boring miserable life because you listened to your mom, your dad, your teacher, your priest, or some guy on television telling you how to do your shit, then you deserve it.’ – Frank Zappa

full moon self-care🔻🌒🌓🌔🌕🌖🌗🌘

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Pile 2 – Art and Romanticism Have Always Been an Important Part of Your Heart

i d e n t i t y – 9 of Cups

You have many dreams, but if there’s one thing, you’ve always dreamt to be independent, doing your dreamy things in your dreamy space. I think you’re the kind of person who’d be considered a quiet eccentric. You have many interests and hobbies, and you’re quite sensitive about having your me-time uninterrupted. I think you could erupt if someone walks in on your serious activity and startle you or if someone in your family tells you to go and do something in the middle of your reading. That kinda vibe. You’re quite a loner, actually. You’re super weird tho XD Do you maybe identify as an autistic kid, fam?

Anyway, please know that this Full Cold Moon is inviting you to ponder more deeply about your place amongst Humans. I have a feeling you don’t really like Humans or at least, you find human interactions absolutely exhausting, for the most part. If you know this blog, you know already how much I prize individuality and being alone if it means peace of mind and faster manifestations LOL BUTT!! In this reading, I’m getting that many of you may want to ponder yet again how you interact with people, especially those closest to you because sometimes, there really are people who care about your wellbeing more than you realise.

s e r e n i t y – 10 of Cups Rx

Many of you choosing this Pile probably haven’t got a nice family background. Of course, there are a million scenarios for each person but for the most part, I sense that you’ve felt familial connections to be emotionally unsatisfying. That’s why you seek emotional fulfilment in this multitude of hobbies and interests. Clearly you’re a very intelligent person, that much I’d like to iterate. And so, this reading seeks to validate your feelings about your eccentricity.

Art and all those dramatic things have always been integral to your sense of identity. I really think you should indulge, as long as whatever dramatic things you enjoy aren’t detrimental to your mental or physical wellbeing. If you happen to be the type that’s already doing detrimental things in your pursuit of an emotional high, this card is suggesting you pause breathe and eat before you go after another round of pursuing that high.

f a m i l y – Page of Cups Rx

When you’re pausing, you can cry. Accepting our emotions and acknowledging that they make us Human usually comes with a sense of grieving for all the ways we’ve thought ourselves as being in the wrong. There’s not a thing fundamentally wrong with you, it’s the people around you that have made you feel like you can’t communicate with them with striking vulnerability. And if these experiences have caused you to bear a lot of dark thoughts or negative emotions, I’d like you to know it happens to the best of us.

You could literally turn your pains into art, if anything. If you’ve chosen this Pile as your main pile, know that the pain you’ve experienced through human connections could be turned into art and that your Art has the capacity to heal those who come into contact with its backstory. And this, totally will have a significant place on the world stage because, as you can see, human interactions in recent years have gotten weirder and weirder in some capacity. So many people are hurting from getting disappointed by the…government and celebrities? LOL

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Pile 3 – Princess Kaguya, Is That You?

i d e n t i t y – 2 of Cups Rx

At the core of your being, you’ve always been different in that your heart is a lot purer, your morality is criminally significantly higher, you’re compassionate and can empathise with people on a level that’s beyond the comprehension of most others. The way you’ve experienced this Human Reality is incomparable to what most others have known. Basically, you’re an alien! And that’s an incredibly modest thing to say about you.

What you genuinely wish to see manifest in this world is vastly more high-vibrational than most people would even care to think about. I hope you accept that you are genuinely such a good person when you’re in your best element. What’s really difficult to maintain is your faith in people, for the most part, because you haven’t really met anyone who’s capable of giving their heart to you as deeply as you’ve given yours. This whole experience has broken your spirit and faith in a lot of things.

s e r e n i t y – 9 of Pentacles

And thus, you’ve carved out a Life of your own, quite separate from most people you’ve ever known. I’m sure you’ve burnt a lot of bridges up until just recently, and I sense, many of you simply know there’s still a few more to burn going forward. This is your confirmation that you’ve done the right thing. In this Human world, too many people buy into the idea that to be good is to be social; but you’ve experienced firsthand that that’s often not the case. You know firsthand that many people’s demons get activated by some weird connections to other people’s demons. And you don’t like that.

So you made a decision to walk away from most aspects of social life and worked your butt off to polish your skills. Some of you have spent many years studying; some of you have spent very many months working on a glow-up; some of you have deepened your spiritual prowess and connected to higher realms; basically, you’ve died and become a ghost… Springtime will bring you the resurrection you deserve, bitch!🎍

f a m i l y – King of Cups

About your Soul Fam though, I feel that travel is highly indicated for you. Some of you, you could be meeting a Soul Fam member during travels, but for the majority of you, this aenergy is giving the idea that you’re literally meant to travel the world or live abroad, perhaps even for the rest of your lives. Highly advanced souls can often have a narrative in which they’re expected to die on a land different from the one they were born into. So, if you’ve been thinking of moving to a different country or state, this is your confirmation that it is indeed part of your soul scenario.

Thanks to modern travel, it’s so easy for highly advanced souls to connect with their true Family members from different countries and that’s something we’re glad about LOL If you’ve ever wondered whether you’re going to die alone and sad, that’s totally not the case. If anything, you have so many Soul Fam members who are going to be just as highly spiritual, profoundly dreamy and vastly empathetic as you are. You’re going to be very glad when the time comes for Soul Families to reunite in the upcoming couple of years~ YAY~!

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[think-like-a-poet]

Put on the camera

Oscar Piastri x Lando Norris (Gamer/ Only fans AU)

Based on this post from @russver .Thank you for letting me use this idea and I hope you like it

also able to read on my ao3

Warning: Only fans, smut, rough language, let me know if I need to add anything Still trying to find how to write smut better.

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Did they ever truly plan for this to unfold? Not that they could remember— it simply came to be. One time changed to every week turned into eight times a month. Streaming didn't have a high enough income for the lifestyle they both craved, it should have just been something to help out. A helping hand , something to look back on when they need it. How could it have evolved into something so much more?

They were referred to as roommates, a label history would easily place upon them. When Lando's previous roommate moved out, Oscar was the first to respond to the call for a new companion. That was two years ago. Now, after twenty-four months and countless nights spent in each other’s company, they found themselves unsure of how to halt this momentum.

Right now, they were both seated in their own rooms as the stream was about to start. Lando had turned into a sensation on Twitch; Oscar was more popular on the other site.

"Welcome Darlings, to the new stream," Lando's voice beamed through Oscar's headset as he loaded the game. The Australian hadn't put on his camera or microphone yet, just letting Lando do the introduction. Like he always does by the streams.

Oscar waved at the camera and the chat went feral. Lando laughed at the comments, saying their unholy thoughts about the gamer. It would be funny as long as Lando was the person he shared his bed with.

Lando opened up his library with games and took a minute to decide which one they were going to play today. "Are you alright with F1 sim racing?"

Oscar nodded and looked for his own game on his PC. Lando always chose the play with Carlos Sainz, a Ferrari driver, while Oscar chose the newest rookie, Fernando Alonso, in the Aston Martin.

Oscar turned to the camera as he pointed out the obvious, "He probably doesn't want to play Call of Duty." Too scared to lose again," Lando faked a gasp as his hand flew to his heart.

"I am not scared to lose, because I don't lose." Lando tried to explain the chat with his hands. Oscar just laughed as he shook his head, remembering how he clearly won in the latest stream.

The game had finally loaded and the two cars were seated on the race track. The players focused on the screen as the lights went out. It wasn't much of a difference, but Oscar was a bit faster with his reaction.

Lando groaned as he had to keep driving behind the green car. He tried to overtake, but Oscar blocked it, sending him wide in the next corner. "Ey, you got to leave the space." Lando explained, but Oscar just kept racing.

A new subscriber entered the screen, and both of the drivers said hello to them. They loved a big audience.

By every corner he took, Oscar's muscles flexed on screen. Lando kept taking quick glances at his screen in the corner. Oscar's hand looked so big on the wheel and Lando wished it was him. Before he knew it, Lando had crashed the car into the barrier as he forgot to take a corner while admiring his roommate.

Oscar let out a low laugh as Lando groaned in annoyance. "What happened?"

"You didn't leave enough space," Lando lied as he drove the car out of the gravel.

Oscar raised his eyebrows at the statement, taking a quick look at the camera corner as he exclaimed, "Mate, I am three seconds in front of you. What do you mean?"

Lando had gotten the car back on track, but Oscar was leading the race by a big margin. "I don't know. It is still your fault," he joked as he shook his head at the camera. The chat loved their little banter as they all shared their thoughts on it.

'These streams are always so funny,'

'I ship them so much,'

'Sometimes they fight like a married couple, and I love it'

'the heart eyes Lando gave Oscar before he crashed have to be looked at'

'We all know why he got distracted,'

Oscar ignored most of these comments, but something in his stomach fluttered at the thought of Lando being distracted by him. He had to look back at the edits the fans would make on the stream. It would be good material to blackmail the British friend.

Lando wasn't able to catch up with the other car and had to deal with a second-place finish. "You know, no one likes the winner anyway." He tried to sound serious, but his statement was laced with a joke.

"You are just sad you didn't win. Got to know I was better at this than you."

They played some more games before ending the stream. "Thank you all for watching. We hope you enjoyed it." Then they waved goodbye and closed it off.

As they turned off their cameras and microphones, it was time to catch their breath and put on the other one. Oscar stood up from his chair and walked towards his dresser. He took off his hoodie before making his way towards the other bedroom. He wasn't going to need that amount of closing for this stream.

He saw Lando still closing off all his tabs. He had a bad habit of keeping everything open and losing the ones he still needed to use. "Hello, love," Oscar greeted as he placed a kiss on the top of his head. Lando looked up, not hearing that Oscar had walked in because of his headphones. He smiled up at him and got up from his chair.

The bedroom was lightly light by the red LED lights on the wall. Lando had some posters of a famous golfer and a sports car. Pictures of him and Oscar were splattered all around the room. Some are more friendly than others. Lando always loved to capture the most beautiful angles and Oscar was one of them. Lando absolutely loved to take pictures when they were involved in the devil's tango.

Oscar went to sit down on the bed as Lando walked to the shelf to get the tripod out.

Their clothes had found their way towards the ground in Lando's bedroom. The little ray of the sunset cast a golden glow on the Brits bare stomachs, outlining his perfect physics. Oscar always loved the sight of it and so did their followers. It brought home some new jewelry for him.

Oscar's eyes were fixed on the back of his roommate as Lando set the tripod on the dresser in front of the bed. It would be a normal stream. No special requests or special orders, just for all of their followers. They were both tired from the game and weren't going to go all out. Also, Oscar wasn't ready yet to do what that old bastard requested.

Lando turned around to look Oscar in the eyes, "You ready?" the younger man nodded as he swallowed his worries away. The duvet under him felt like a soft cloud as it gave him reassurance.

He turned the camera on and Oscar filled the screen. Lando adored the sight of him on his bed, it looked like it was destined to be like that. He sat down next to him on the bed and grabbed the neck of the Australian between his hands as he kissed him rough, "Hello, Darling. I missed you so much. Did you miss me?"

Oscar wasn't able to answer the older man as his lips reattached. The timer ticked off the seconds as their lips moved in sync to their beating hearts, rapid and loud. "Isn't he beautiful?" Lando asked towards the camera, as if he would get a response back. They may be in their own little world, but people are watching them. "I should punish you for what you said, but I love you too much for that."

Their eyes locked as Lando's fingers hooked on Oscar's black boxer. "We should get rid of these, shouldn't we?" He asked, not breaking eye contact as he slowly pulled them off. Oscar was already hardened by the minimal touches and Lando couldn't help but feel proud of himself.

The boxer was thrown by the rest of the clothes, the only thing that kept Oscar from being completely naked was a necklace he got from Lando to remind him about him when they were separated.

Oscar's eyes fluttered close as Lando stroked him. "Please," he croaked out. He needed Lando to touch him. To take him all in, while he would beg for a release.

He licked the tip, which was leaking some pre-cum, and the noise that Oscar made was heaven. The Aussie's head was thrown back in pleasure as Lando continued to lick up and down his length.

Their eyes locked again when Lando moved up to place a quick kiss on his lips before trailing a line of kisses back down, stopping right above his throbbing. Oscar wanted to push him right on it and let him ride it, but he knew that wasn't the plan for today.

Oscar's cheeks were rose red, with puffy lips and fluttering eyes, and Lando wished he could take a picture of the sight. His uncombed hair stuck to his forehead as Lando continued his work.

Every now and then they forget the camera is still recording them, and they aren't the only people who are enjoying this. Oscar looked away from the curly-haired man and locked eyes with the screen as he let out a loud moan of pleasure.

"Such a good boy for us," Lando breathed out, and Oscar threw his head back with a groan from the feeling of the breath in his manhood. The praise that fell from Oscar's tongue sounded like heaven, and Lando didn't know how long he was able to continue this. His own hard cock was leaking pre-cum on his stomach from the sight in front of him. How could one be so beautiful?

If it weren't for the camera, Lando would have said those three words that flew through his mind. He needed Oscar to know it—to know if the other felt the same way as him.

Oscar's hands pull the curly hair and Lando groans as his cock hits the back of his throat. "Fuck, don't stop. You feel so good," Oscar moaned out as Lando sucked him off.

It was a beautiful sight. Lando was on his knees in front of 

Oscar as he continued to suck him off. One of Lando's hands played with his balls as the other pressed Oscar's thighs down on the bed. Oscar leaned on the bedpost to keep in balance as his thoughts disappeared with every touch.

No one would find out if it was them. Even if a follower found them, what would they say? Admit they like it; admit they watch them fuck each other till their words are lost in their throats. It wouldn't be the best thing to admit. And even if one found out, it wasn't like it was a secret. You just had to look up their hidden Instagram to find the link.

Oscar and Lando didn't care as long as they were able to enjoy their luxury lives. Enjoying different countries, wearing the newest clothes and riding their shared McLaren and each other. They weren't going to back out now, not with the chance of lifelong fame. 

[actualarcanist]

Norse Symbolism in Reverse: 1999

Sorry, this post has nothing to do with Erick since I still hasn't even saw her anecdote. However, I did notice that the Insight symbol is a Valknut, which has several interesting implications. The symbol of three interlocked triangles is so ancient its name and meaning are lost to history, with the term "Valknut" ("knot of the slain") being a modern creation representing its connection to the Norse god Odin, which connects it linguistically to both his Valkyries ("choosers of the slain") and his Valhalla ("hall of the slain"). Now Odin as a deity is a lot more complex than what white supremacists would have you think.

When you max out a character in the game, they reach "the bottom of insight." Why bottom of Insight instead of the peak of insight or the perfection of insight? Is it because they're all bottoms? This may allude to the story of how Odin put one of his eyes at the bottom of the Well of Mimir for a drink from the spring of wisdom; henceforth, while the eye in his head looks down upon the happenstance of the phenomenal world from the height of Asgard, his eye at the bottom of the well looks up and see the essence of all things. In the words of the Apeiron School, his lost eye sees gnosis while his good eye sees pneuma. In fact, the root word of the name "Odin" means "breath, spirit, life force", which is equivalent to the Greek word pneuma.

The well at the bottom of the world tree Yggdrasil is the dwelling of the three Norns of fate: Urd, Verdandi, and Skuld. Originally they're described as gardeners who irrigate the root of the world tree with the water from the well, but with the introduction of Greco-Roman mythologies by ways of Christian missionaries, the figures of the Norns eventually became synthesized and conflated with the Greek Moirai, who are described as seamstresses who spin, weave, and cut the threads of fate for gods and mortals alike. The combination of these mythologies conjure the image of the Norns as seamstresses who spin the loom of destiny over the water at the bottom of the well, similar to the loom suspended over a lake in Vertin's suitcase.

One of Odin's most intriguing aspect is as the wanderer, who seems to be absent from Asgard and the company of the gods most of the time as he wanders the worlds in various disguises, testing the limits to the sanctity of hospitality - a necessary survival skill in the harsh cold of the North. As the wanderer, Odin is often depicted as wearing a wide-brimmed hat that occlude his missing eye, like how Vertin's pimp hat sometimes occlude one of her eyes. Odin is not actually that concerned with the disputes between mortals or even gods; for the most part, he has only one job: preparing for Ragnarok, the war between the gods and Jotnar that will see the world being remade. Jotnar, often translated as giants, are similar to the Greek Titans: living embodiment of outsize concepts such as fate, time, or storm.

[wanderinginksplot]

What to watch during the writer's strike:

Don't pay attention to companies who blame writers for delayed movies and television shows! The WGA strike comes from people who are trying to make things better - not only for themselves and other writers, but the films and tv shows we all love.

While we wait for a resolution, I thought I would share some existing television shows that I enjoy. I didn't bother with too much well-known stuff. Instead, I focused on shows I feel many people missed because of the glut of content that all premiered at once over the last few years. (I may make another one of these for movies later on, but this one is about tv.)

[Update: Movie version here]

Feel free to add on! Just try to give a quick, spoiler-free synopsis for the show and the streaming service where it can be found.

List under the cut!

Netflix:

The Good Place (2016-2020) - A 'bad' woman is accidentally sent to heaven. She and her moral philosophy professor of a soulmate try to save her soul by making her a better person. Genre: Comedy with deeper implications and one of the best endings in television history.

Russian Doll (2019-2022) - When Nadia dies at her birthday party, she's more than a little confused to come back. Especially when it keeps happening. Genre: Time loop drama with a wicked sense of humor and a dash of theoretical physics. Potentially not ended?

Narcos (2015-2017) - The fight of the American DEA and the Colombian army against cocaine kingpin Pablo Escobar and his reign of terror. Genre: Drama with thrilling elements. Lots of violence, some sex and language. Lots of subtitles. Features Pedro Pascal and Boyd Holbrook, if you need some extra incentive.

Derry Girls (2018-2022) - Five teens grow up in Derry, Ireland in the 1990s, amid the final years of the Troubles, a low-level war that lasted roughly 30 years. Genre: Comedy. Some sexual content, some religious content, less violence than you would expect, and the best nun ever to appear on film.

Arcane (2021-?) - Two sisters are alienated when one accidentally kills their adoptive father. Their different paths threaten the fragile peace of a city already on the breaking point. Genre: Drama with elements of action-adventure. Though it's animated, Arcane's animation is beautifully done with tantalizing steampunk elements that will keep you invested.

Disney+:

Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008-2020) - If you haven't seen any of the Star Wars animated series, this is a good place to start. Set in the time gap between Episode II and Episode III, this series helps flesh out Anakin Skywalker and the Jedi. It is also a great introduction to some of the characters and plots of The Mandalorian. (Star Wars: Rebels is another good choice.) Genre: Adventure with some drama. Violence and death are a large part of The Clone Wars, but it's usually appropriate for children. The clone troopers will steal your heart!

Gravity Falls (2012-2016) - Dipper Pines and his sister Mabel are sent to Gravity Falls, Oregon to live with their great-uncle for their summer break. But when Dipper finds a mysterious book in the woods, the pair find that Gravity Falls is far more mysterious than it seems... Genre: Adventure with a lot of comedy. Though it's billed as a children's cartoon, Gravity Falls is an intriguing watch with mystery subplots that will keep anyone guessing. It also features a famously strong and cohesive series ending. I was in my late 20s when I first watched this and I was still invested!

Daredevil (2015-2018) - After being blinded as a young boy, Matthew Murdock trained his other senses to replace the sight that he lost. He uses his skills to protect the helpless in the New York City neighborhood of Hell's Kitchen. Genre: Action and superhero. Features a lot of incredibly choreographed violence. (Jessica Jones is also an excellent show to watch, especially if you think of David Tennant as the consummate 'good guy'. He's got range!)

HBO Max (Just 'Max' now, I guess):

Ghosts (2019-2023) - Petty roommate squabbles don't stop just because you're dead! Alison and her husband Mike inherit a house, then a near-death experience allows Alison to see its ghostly inhabitants. Chaos and humor ensue as the ghosts try to adjust to the house's new owners. Genre: Humor. Ghosts is a British sitcom, but since the writers are comedians (writing and performing in Horrible Histories), the show is done in a style that feels more natural to American viewers. Hint: watch the BBC version, not the American one. They're fairly similar, but definitely not the same!

Pushing Daisies (2007-2009) - A pie-maker with the ability to bring back the dead helps to solve murders. He's helped by his once-dead childhood sweetheart. Genre: Comedy with some dramatic elements. Some of the CGI-heavy moments haven't aged particularly well, but the show has a unique premise and an incredibly talented cast!

Hulu:

Abbott Elementary (2021-?) - This mockumentary series showcases an inner-city elementary school in Philadelphia. The teachers and administration do their best for the kids, but they're constrained by budgets and the limitations of the educational system itself. Genre: Comedy mockumentary. Though Abbott Elementary is fictional, some of the issues brought up are all too real. This is a funny and incisive look at the American public school system.

Amazon Prime:

Fleabag (2016-2019) - The unnamed protagonist of the show struggles through life on her own with limited support from her alienated family and the memories of her recently deceased best friend. Genre: Comedy with lots of dramatic elements. Lots of sexual content and references, some language, breaking the fourth-wall, and several characters you just long to hit. I watched the second season in a single day, that's how good this was.

Unknown Streaming Service:

Black Sails (2014-2017) - This prequel to Treasure Island features elements from the book, original characters, and real pirates from history in a setting that emphasizes realism. Captain Flint and his crew search for a legendary prize... one that might allow them to claim Nassau for their own. Genre: Action and adventure. Think Game of Thrones, but with pirates. Incredibly well-written and well-acted with gorgeous scenery, LGBTQ representation, and just enough historical accuracy to keep things grounded. Black Sails also boasts one of the best endings ever given for a television show.

Like I said, please feel free to reblog and add your own television show recommendations onto this list! There are plenty of things to watch and plenty of ways to support the WGA strike that don't involve giving in to big studios.

[aziraphales-library]

Hi hi hi! I’m looking for some longer hurt/comfort fics. I love angst with a happy ending, hurt/comfort, emotional hurt/comfort, anything dealing with mental illness or unwellness, things like that. Preferably over 50k! Sorry if this is super specific! Doesn’t matter if it’s an AU or canon compliant. Thank you 💗

Hello. We have #angst, #hurt/comfort, #emotional hurt/comfort, and #mental health tags so check those out. Here are some 50k+ fics, at least some of which we have recommended before. Mind the tags on these!...

Sharp Objects by ElderlySardine (M)

Back in the mid-nineties, Aziraphale and Crowley had it all. They were friends, lovers, soulmates. Life was hard, but as long as they were together it didn't matter. Then in one catastrophic fight caused by Aziraphale's cruel, coercive brother Gabriel, the whole thing came crashing down. The boys parted company for good. Now it's 2021. Life has spun Crowley and Aziraphale in very different directions before throwing them back together at their lowest ebb. Can they manage to hide their history from their new friends? Can they forgive each other, and themselves? Could there possibly still be something there between them? And with Gabriel still lurking on the horizon, will they be strong enough to do anything about it?

And There Will Be Great Lamentations by TheBobblehat (M)

It has been a month since Aziraphle has become the new Archangel of Heaven, and it's worse than he can possibly imagine. Due to Gabriel's poor management while he was in charge, Azirpahle has been playing catch-up with all the paperwork that Gabriel didn't bother to do. On top of that, while Aziraphale has a shiny new title, he still can't seem to garner the respect of his fellow Angels, and now without Crowley, is feeling more lonely than ever before. Meanwhile, on Earth, Crowley isn't doing much better. Depressed, he haunts the bookshop under the lame excuse that he's "supervising" Muriel in their new position as bookseller. That old, demonic spark has long gone, and all that's left is a very depressed, very heartbroken shell of his former self.

Hold Me Until The Morning by TheLinThing (E)

Anthony Crowley is a lot of things, but mostly single and very unhappy about it. His brain is not his best friend, and that makes it hard for him to find love. Until a certain handsome blonde walks into the gaybar he frequents, and Anthony can only hope he can keep his fears in control so they won't be interfering with his plans for this angelic man.

Tiny little fractures by Wildphoenix_ofthe80s (M)

In a human AU, Aziah Fell and Anthony Crowley meet while looking for distraction on a self harm help message board. Please pay close attention to tags, they're there to protect you.

Introduction to Philosophy – an Inter-Faculty Course by Black_Bentley (E)

Everyone who participates in the Introduction to Philosophy course regrets they chose it for an "easy credit" as one of the students is taking critical thinking to an absurd level that is going nowhere (...), while the other can’t be bothered to think for himself. It would be hilarious if they weren’t so damned annoying. As for those annoying students, Crowley falls deeply in love and Aziraphale... Aziraphale is prophesied by their fellow student Anathema to break Crowley's heart Initially started as a half-silly something inspired by this post on Tumblr*, but then it got angstier and more disturbing than the first chapters would suggest. Please, mind the tags, but I promise a happy ending! *If you ever had That Student in any Philosophy course, you know what this is about.

Free by imposterssyndrome (E)

Anthony J Crowley's been living rough since he was kicked out by his parents as a kid. Somehow he's made it to the age of 40 and he's still alive, but if you asked him, he's not really sure how the hell he's managed it. It's not been pretty. Alistair Zachariah (Az) Fell runs a bookshop, but is still under the strict yoke of his parents: their eternal disappointment. 40 years old and he's desperately unhappy and hit crisis point. They meet (again?) as inpatients in an acute mental health ward. They have nothing in common. Obviously. How could they? They're practically opposites. So why are they so drawn to one another?

- Mod D

[admirxation]

Force | Enver Gortash oneshot

Pairing: Lord Enver Gortash x f!durge!reader (afab) Synopsis: Gortash forcefully tries to jog the reader's memory of their history. Word count: 2.5k Disclaimer: This fic will deal with sensitive topics like non-con. I do not condone everything I write; this is a piece of fiction where real people cannot get hurt. You are responsible for the content you consume. cw: reader hates gortash at the start, dark content, non-con, kidnapping (mentioned briefly), tying up, spitting (in a 'get away from me' way), p in v, unprotected sex, choking, tit play, gagging, and creampie (if I missed anything, please tell me).

You were previously surrounded by the dim glow of the campfire, hearing the sounds of your fellow companions as they fell asleep, trying to get some rest for another impactful day. However, you were no longer surrounded by friendly faces; that night, you couldn’t help but stay up and let your inner thoughts swirl alongside the squirming tadpole that kept you restless and exhausted. It was bad enough that you had bloodlust coursing through your very being; now you had awoken knowing you were not the person you thought you were when you woke up on the nautiloid. On your journey to Baldurs Gate, you often thought about the person you were, maybe thinking that you might have been sweet, but that was all a delusion when you finally defeated Ketheric and made your way to Lord Enver Gortash. 

When first meeting him, you were, shall we say, intimidated, by the steel watcher that held a deep and rich-toned voice that was welcoming you back; all your fellow companions next to you at the time shared the same confusion — all of it answered when you were face to face with the tyranny’s chosen, and his explanation of the history you two had. The whole puzzle was incomplete; you still had many pieces missing, and maybe you would be given the pieces now.

You were no longer in that humble but comfortable camp; you were now forced on your knees, with a tight and harsh rope looped around your wrists that were placed behind your back, releasing heavy breaths as you tried to grow accustomed to the cold shock of pain that started in your knees from the steel watchers throwing you to Gortash in his private chamber, you felt that jolting pain travel through all your nerves and cause you to wince — even when you were trying not to show weakness. 

Gortash had begged to see you again; that crude and short introduction to the new you wasn’t enough when he had been waiting for you to return; he grew to hate Orin even more for taking his favourite assassin from him, and now you were back, but changed, no longer the Bhaalspawn he had been connected to in body and mind; your, shall we say, rebirth and evolving from your chosen company surrounding you and making your new morals wasn’t welcome to Gortash — he hated the new person and wanted to force the memory of the real you back. 

You looked up to meet Gortash’s dark eyes, watching him stare at you with that taunting and wicked smirk as he looked you up and down at your vulnerable frame. He waved his hand and ushered the watchers to leave him; you felt exposed, vulnerable, even terrified to be in a room alone with him with no one to come to your aid — you had been taken in the night when you had moved a bit further from the main camp to be left alone with your thoughts, you only realised now how stupid it was to wander off in the place you two main enemies lurked. While you had been trying to resist your violent urges, you only wanted to resist them with your new friends, but you didn’t care to with Gortash. To hells with the alliance, if he was to treat you like this, as he moved closer with slow steps with his eyes never fraying from yours and looking at you with amusement, he never thought to see you under his will; it was often the other way round in your relationship. While tied up and kneeling for him, that metallic taste of anger was lingering on your tongue, your eyes narrowing. 

“Is the tying up necessary?” you were quick with your words as your hands kept squirming behind your back, but venom was intertwining with your language and manner. 

“Just call me Enver, dearest; there is no need for the formalities. Especially for old friends.”

His voice was deep and rich, his words and tone swirling in your mind. It felt familiar, but you didn’t know if that was a part of your unconsciousness that remembered him and wouldn’t come to the front of your cortex or if the feeling just came from the logic of knowing you had something with him. He bent down to place his fingers on your chin, lifting it, only being met with you forcefully taking it away and scrunching up your face in disgust at him, the feeling he had the goddamn right to touch you. “My… don’t be like that… You used to love that,” he continued to toy with you. 

“You have such a way of welcoming sposed old friends… I don’t care about any sort of history; you have no right to touch me… Gortash,” you clenched your fists as you mockingly elongated the way you said his last name, not wanting to conform to his need for a friendly first-name basis. 

“I’ll say… It’s quite different seeing you like this. I never thought I would get the chance to set my eyes upon you in this state… It’s quite the opportunity.” A breath of amusement was released as his gaze continued to objectify you, his eyes travelling down your face to your form. He wickedly liked how his dark shadow engulfed the light that once surrounded you; your eyes squinted as Gortash placed his rough hand on your cheek, caressing. You took an opportunity to bite the fingers that tried to venture, but that was exactly what he wanted. “There she is… That’s the spirit, the fiery soul I’ve dearly missed… I know you changed, but I know you weren’t completely gone.” 

Hot anger pooled your senses, feeling ike your blood was boiling and about to burst through your skin: “I’m still trying to change… I’m not the vermin you longed for, and you bring me here to what? Rekindle the old flame… You’re pathetic, honestly.” 

“Your words wound, my dear,” he let out a small, slow, and deep giggle as he wouldn’t take any of your threats seriously, but you continued to refuse to give in to the history nonsense; you wanted to keep being the person you had grown to be… proud of? Bhaal made you in blood for grotesque destruction, but you no longer wanted that destiny.

“This dynamic is getting exhausting now… I brought you here not to romance and rekindle with you, but to remind you and have you back by my side… I have no idea who this new identity you’re proclaiming you’re following; I know it’s a facade, and our connection will prevail… I would rather that happen sooner than later… Stop speaking to me as an acquaintance.” 

“I find it pitiful that you think of yourself as an acquaintance… You’re nothing but an obstacle,” it felt like a dagger into Gortash’s heart to hear those words from a past lover he had never had the thought to get over, even when hearing you had died from Orin making a fool of you, he hadn’t lost hope, knowing you would come back in some way — he just didn’t predict that he would have to make you come back to him. 

“I don’t blame you, dear,  for thinking like this; it isn’t your fault… But I will bring that pretty mind of yours to sense, one way or another,” he descended again, crouching to have his eyes meet your level. 

Indignation roared through you, every inch of your skin feeling hot and irritated. You had the itch to be let go, but you were trapped in your arms, to hells with your alliance; you had gotten this far and knew you could take him; he even knew it by having you kidnapped into his private chamber in the sleeping city. You stared at him — only for a moment — before spitting at the face he claimed you had been connected before; he pulled away, rushing to an upright position as he wiped it away — he had wanted to do this in a way that would make you come back to him through your choice, but you made his patience run thin. 

“You unruly thing,” in a moment of haste, his fingers collected around your neck; you gasped as his fingers squeezed the sides only to allow a release of air; you looked into his eyes, his dark lashes and dark shadows surrounding them — you knew these eyes. Your body felt hot as you stared back at his, a part of you that was connected to him coming back and living in familiarity, but you were still fearful of what he was going to do. 

“Are… Are you going to kill me?” you asked, only to be met with another smirk that bestowed control over you. 

“No, of course not, dear,” he let go of your neck. You gasped for needed air, dazed dots clouding your vision as you grew accustomed to the much-needed oxygen in your system, but your moment of freedom was short-lived when he dragged you by your top, hearing the hem ripping as he dragged you to his bed; you feared what was going to happen but was also… excited? You felt a cacophony of emotions intermingling inside you, and you couldn’t process any of it as the sight of the bed got closer and closer. “I was going to let you see reason in the more civilised way… But you have left me no choice but to jog your memory by force,” there was tension in his words, as his gaze upon you wasn’t just one of lust like he had before when you were first thrown to his feet, but now there was a darker yearning to make you see his views, to make you see how he saw you, you squeezed your legs together and tried to use your strength to avoid what you knew was coming, you weren’t naive or stupid, you knew what that look meant. 

“You could have gone the easy route, but you had to be difficult,” his hand ventured between your legs, separating them no matter how much effort you tried to put them together; it was difficult to do anything with your hands bound up, limiting your bodily movement and having your balance thrown off. 

Gortash stopped your squirming as he placed his hands on the sides of your waist and pinned you down, a pulsating pain travelling to your arms as you tensed them with now being placed on your back, feeling the covers along your skin and smelling his scent that had seeped into them. Your eyes were darting everywhere as Gortash used the sharp claws of his golden hand accessory to make a neatly placed rip that went through each layer of clothing, exposing the core that made him harder. 

“Oh, have I missed the sight of you,” he said under his breath.

“Stop! I will make you regret this; I will! I’ll have you bathe in your blood; don’t you dare touch me!”  

“Yeah, yeah,” Gortash reached for something unknown to you. When it was in your peripheral vision, you saw ripped-up rags. You watched as he balled the fabric in such an intricate but quick manner, pressing his fingers on your jaw and forcing them open as he stuffed your mouth; you couldn’t spit them out, couldn’t reach your fingers to get them out, you were bound. You were slowly coming to the reality that you would have to endure whatever he was going to do to you — your muffled screams only added excitement to Gortash as he took his cock out of his pants, dragging his underwear to the side, nestling his body in between your legs, feeling your core’s warmth. 

The tip of his cock was sliding along your slit, pushing through in tiny movements and feeling you get wetter and hotter; Gortash smirked to himself: “Seems your body remembers me… Only your mind is left to come to the truth.” You felt betrayed; you didn’t want this. You were even scared and wanted to break free and have your bloodlust revenge on what he had done to you. Still, the moment he let himself inside, that deep thrust inside your walls, your body begged for him to continue as your eyes rolled back to your head, a muffled moan come through the rags as you felt his length inside of you; it felt familiar, but in a way also a new euphoric feeling that you couldn’t help but like. He felt your walls stretch against him; he released a gasp as he felt how incredible you were again, your walls eagerly clenching around his cock as he pressed his fingers on your waist with enough pressure to leave a light bruise. Groans escaped his mouth; they were low with a mix of laboured breaths as he continued to feel your body surround him. Tears were brimming at the corners of your eyes as you felt him push the pressure on your skin and the way he forcefully let you feel that pleasure and the ecstasy of it. 

“Fuck,” he released in a whispered hush as he continued to pump himself inside you, “I’ve missed the feeling of you… mmmm,” his moans continued in between his speech. 

Your back arched in response to the tip of his cock bruising your cervix as he pushed and pushed his whole length in your wet and throbbing core; Gortash continued this quick motion but still savoured every moment of it, something that he had been yearning and dreaming immensely about from the time you had been taken from him. Your moans continued as you squeezed your eyes shut, hating how much you liked it, hating how good he was at knowing your body and how to make it yield to the sensation.

He repositioned himself to move his face to be no longer level with yours, now staring at your breasts that had been bouncing in front of him with every hard thrust he brought to you; on his way down, he left rough and lazy kisses along your neck and chest, taking your hard nipple in between his teeth and gently nibbling it, later twirling the bud with his wet tongue that made a shiver roll down your body. 

“Mmhmm,” you moaned; you no longer cared about the large section of your mind telling you to stop submitting to his will; you only listened to the irrational corner of your mind that loved the feeling of him, loved how he used your body, and you wanted more. Your groans continued to erupt and be shielded with the cloth that was nestled in your mouth, your chest rising up and down even quicker as you get hotter and wetter underneath him. 

After more forceful thrusts and bites, Gortash released a final loud and deep moan as he finished inside of you; you felt his hot, euphoric release inside of you and couldn’t help but want more, left in a daze on his bed. 

authors note: please engage if you liked this; reblogging is the best way of supporting creators and I would be very appreciative if you liked and reblogged. This is my first bg3 fic, and I hope people like it, I am thinking of writing a durge reader x gortash pre game events. love you all, mwah mwah mwah.

[onepiece-polls]

One Piece Shipping War - Grand Finale!

Propaganda under the cut.

Propaganda for Franky x Robin:

Do I really need to explain?

The old married couple who's healthy, Enies Lobby (and all their appearances) are their propaganda really.

It’s all about the maturity!

Their dynamic is perfect and their pasts are so similar. I love the chemistry between them as well as their introduction that helped build the connection and shared history they already have.

they are THE t4t bi4bi ship | franky telling robin "existing is not a crime" immediately puts this at number one for me | they are opposites (bright and loud + quiet and goth) but also they're both so eccentric and silly <3 | THEY WEAR MATCHING OUTFITS

Mom and dad Straw Hat

They are STILL the Mom and the Dad of the Straw Hats, this is the one thing I don't care what Oda says <3 Also their interactions in Enies Lobby and Thriller Bark are amazing.

In my eyes, they are married. Some of my favorite character interactions in the manga/anime and in official art.

Oda had Franky call Robin his wife at least once

Your honor they’re married

I'M GOING TO PUT LINKS IN MY EXAMPLES (Mod note: I linked to the whole post, the propaganda was going to get too long otherwise. But I will copy this line:...) They immediatly clicked in Enies Lobby, Franky saved Robin with both words and actions ("Your existence is not a sin!"), and then she grabbed his balls.

The duality of two kids who were just trying to chase their dream and having circumstances outside their control (the government) take everything they love away from them, but one choosing solitude and the other adopting every other person in a bad circumstance??? I love them. Plus they literally had couple moments from the first interaction.

The ultimate t4t couple idk what else you need theyre iconic

A wholesome ship of a woman who feels the need to be constantly on edge trying to relax and a man who is a 110% himself from the moment we see him. the joy of frobin is the causal domesticity, in many color spreads and especially post timeskip we can see them casually enjoying the others company.

Remember when Franky was in Chopper's body in Punk Hazard and every time he spoke Robin was like "Franky. Stop talking. Do not talk while you're in Chopper's body."

idk like. he's obsessed with her. she's his weird Goth gf and he's her himbo. they have matching outfits. I love them.

Look. It's Franky and Robin. Literally the only two characters that make sense to ship on the Sunny. Their arcs are inextricably intertwined (water7/enies lobby). Also LOOK AT THEM interacting, both during their arcs, but also thriller bark, or post time skip. I love them. Also robin crushed frankys balls.

funny big robot man & analytical smart research lady power couple... silly x smart... himbo x researcher... augh... so good

They are the ship for taxpaying adults your honor I LOVE them they’re literally freak4freak and they share such a fucking powerful arc together (Water 7).

that moment she let him sleep on her lap in punk hazard was sooo cute <3 -- The matching thigh highs and bottoms in film z can NOT be understated. -- Strawhat mom and dad -- Let's not forget the way robin convinced franky to join ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) -- she also indirectly called his balls "treasure" so,,, -- the way their stories are so closely intertwined...they were both keys to destroy the world...the way they instantly connected over that...the soulmate-ism of it all...

they . them. girlboss and malewife. that's it.

She grabbed his balls. He totally liked it.

He's so silly and she loves it. She's so scary and he loves it. She grabbed his balls in public.

They will be endgame trust me. Franky doesn't treat any other girl like he treats Robin. There dynamic in Water 7 and Thriller Bark was and always will be one of the best in all of OP.

Propaganda for Nami x Vivi:

Yes, Nami has a new girlfriend on every island, but her heart belongs to Vivi. Vivi in turn refuses to marry, because her heart belongs with a pirate ❤

THEY’RE LESBIANS! IN LOVE! another point: my friends who are watching OP for the first time came to me and asked “so Nami and Vivi… they’re gay right?” So it’s pretty apparent to even newcomers

I just think they’re neat! And in love. Nami gave up money for Vivi that’s True Love

Anyone who saw them can just tell they’re gay. Like Nami gave up money for her

They're one of the rare lesbian ships in op, they care for each other so much !!

Lesbians

Lesbians

They were so gay that Luffy offered to share food to cheer Nami up when they were separated.

i dare you to read Baroque Works through Alabasta without shipping them. the way Vivi and Nami are so affectionate with each other, and Vivi putting saving her nation on hold to get Nami healthy again ???

Lesbians

Let’s go lesbians!!!!! Ok but actually, I think Nami saw a lot of herself in Vivi (ha) especially when Igaram “died” and then throughout their journey together Nami really encouraged her to open up to the crew. Nami showed Vivi it was ok to ask for help just like Luffy showed her.

Vivi was Nami's gay awakening and you cant change my mind. Nami was in love with Vivi and Vivi def had some kind of feeling for Nami. They were so close and they were more then just 'gal pals'

Lesbian Pirate Supremacy! they clearly care a lot about each other and considering when nami meets vivi she is probably one of the first close female friends she gets to have.

[literary-motif]

I Don't Forgive You

Asirel Cain x Reader

Warnings: misogyny and profanities (you get to kill the guy that does it)

His sister's despicable ex shows up at Asriel's home. You get dinner.

“What?” Asirel asked curtly, picking up the phone.

His employee stammered, clearly taken aback by his harshness. Asirel was not usually this brash with the people working for him — being calm, collected, and polite fed his image better — but today his schedule was rather busy and he did not care to be inconvenienced by frivolous things. 

“There uh,” the employee cleared their throat nervously. He rolled his eyes, clicking his tongue impatiently. “There is a ‘Richard’ here to see you, sir.”

Asirel frowned, his eyes darting to his calendar. He had no meeting scheduled for today, least of all at his own home. “A what?” he huffed, distantly recalling the name being dropped in conversation before. 

Richard. It sounded familiar. His sister had talked about a Richard when they had last met.

“Send him up,” he said, placing down the telephone.

“Oh and Richard, that jock-type bad boy I was seeing?” she had said, waving her fork in the air between them as she got excited about spilling some tea. “He’s history. Never met a man that entitled in my life and that’s saying something considering the dudes I’ve met. Anyways—”

He had smiled fondly at her, continuing to eat the spaghetti as he listened to her talk about the cute woman she had met at the butcher shop. 

How had his sister’s ex found his way here?

The door to his study was thrown open violently, bouncing off the wall with a loud bang. A disheveled man stepped inside, not bothering with an introduction as he barged in.

He rubbed his forehead, already feeling a headache forming. He did not have time for this nonsense or whatever the hell this Richard wanted. He could see you standing in the doorway, silently hovering by Richard’s shoulder as you took in the scene before you and gave Asirel a raised eyebrow. 

You looked both incredulous and amused. ‘Who’s he?’ you mouthed, pointing to the guy and chuckling quietly at his behavior. Most of all, you were shocked at Asirel for allowing it. 

He rolled his eyes at your question.

“Listen, man,” Richard said, slamming his hands down on Asirel’s desk and looming over him in an effort to appear threatening. Out of the corner of his eyes, Asirel could see you slap a hand over your mouth to keep from laughing. Impassively, he continued to look at the Buffon in front of him as you licked your lips in anticipation. 

Oh, today you would have a feast.

“Listen, I don’t know what that bitch told you” — Asirel blinked, expression unreadable — “but I didn’t do shit to her, alright? She can come off her fucking high horse and call me back, yeah? Damn man, tell a woman to suck you off once and she gets all pissy, right?”

Your mouth hung open in shock, eyes wide as you looked at the Richard guy. Shit, the tea was real. Shit, oh that guy was dead. 

“That whore can’t tell me anything, yeah? Fucking slapped me when I pushed her to her knees, you hear me? Can’t believe I took her out for dinner for that. See, I’m a nice guy, but sometimes sluts just piss me off.”

Asirel did not betray his thoughts. 

The silence in the study was thick, laden with tension that the guy only now seemed to catch up on. His slight panting was the only thing breaking the silence as Asirel pinned him in place with a look. 

Richard suddenly grew uncomfortable as he took in the room around him, catching up to the fact that he was standing in Asirel’s quiet but threatening presence, whose aura seemed to darken with every second he breathed in his company.

He chuckled nervously. “Right, man?”

You could not contain your laughter anymore, snorting as you heard the guy’s heartbeat pick up in a sudden surge of fear. “Can I?” you asked, giddy with excitement as you tried your best to give Asirel convincing puppy eyes. “Oh please, I am literally begging you.”

“Just one moment,” Asirel said, slowly rising and taking one of his overflowing binders to slap it down on the guy’s hands, successfully getting them off his desk as Richard jumped back. He stared into the confused and fearful gaze of the scum sullying the peacefulness of his study.

For a moment, he contemplated ending Richard himself. 

It would be an easy thing. Asirel could beat him to death with one of the iron rods he used to tend to the fireplace beside him. He could probably beat him to death with his bare fists as well, watch as the life left his eyes and the useless jerk went limp in his grip for daring to talk about his sister in such a way.

He could kill Richard. Draw it out and have his screams of pain echo through the mansion until he tore his throat to shreds and all he could muster would be a strangled plea for mercy that Asirel longed to deny him.

He could do all that if he wanted to. 

Taking a breath, Asirel sat down again. “You’re not worth the effort,” he said, returning to his papers. “Don’t make too much of a mess,” he added as you stepped up to the guy, making him jump as he felt your breath on his neck. 

“What the fuck?” he exclaimed, trying to take a step back. You took hold of him, pushing him to the ground with no effort. 

His death was quicker than you’d liked, but Asirel did say not to make too much of a mess and the screaming and desperate pleading was annoying both of you. 

“Think I need an aspirin after that one,” you said, wiping the remnants of blood from your mouth. You were quite proud of yourself. Not a single drop of it had stained the carpet. 

“Agreed,” Asirel said, shuffling his papers.

“On a scale of one to ten though, he was maybe like a three?” you said, snatching some papers from his desk and disinterestedly leafing through them. “Tell your sister to get in touch with tastier people next time.”

“I’ll pass on the request.”

You laughed, tossing the papers back to him. Asirel reassembled the stack with a groan. “He had some balls showing up here.”

“He had no brain,” he said, resting his head on his hand and looking up at you sitting on the edge of his desk. “What kind of idiot thinks it is a good idea to seek out me to insult my sister? That is insane.”

“People are insane sometimes,” you said, stretching. “So, any crazy ex I need to be worried about when it comes to you?”

“Certainly not.” 

He fished out an aspirin, passing you the container. You took it in amusement, relishing that Asirel had not caught up on your joke. He would grunt at his absentmindedness come morning when you reminded him that drugs did not work on vampires. 

“I’ve never had the time for a relationship. You see how work takes up most of my life.” 

You hummed, running a hand through his hair, which he quickly batted away. “Good thing you’ve got me then, boss.”

“That’s not what you should call me.”

“Oh, I meant to tell you, but then I totally forgot. Sorry about that,” his sister would say the next time he called to check up on her, “I gave Richard your address. He wouldn’t stop bothering me and I honestly couldn’t take it anymore. Also, I thought your little pet would appreciate a home delivery, my treat.”

“They told me his blood left something to be desired and that you should choose your partners more carefully from now on.”

“Really? Well they’re not one to talk.”

“Play nice.”

[dancingtotuyo]

Scathed 10 (Javier Peña)

Rating: Mature

Warnings: anxiety, trauma, self worth, smoking, references to the drug war and colombia, Narcos season 3 spoilers

Notes: Thank you @janaispunk for always beta reading for me. I love you!

Words: 3956

Series Master List | Author Master List

Journal Entry September 4th, 1994 Dear Javi,

So it’s been a month since you left. I’m trying not to be hurt by the lack of communication. Dad said you’re alive. The reports out of Colombia sound like you’re doing well even. I know you called your dad. He mentioned it at Ale’s riding lesson. 

School is kicking my ass. Passing the GED and actually going to class is a huge fucking difference. For the most part, I’ve managed the social situations fine. Classes are small, I can sit in the back. People don’t notice the old lady in the back. I’m pretty sure I’m only retaining a quarter of what I need to. I’m on too high of alert. I knew it would be hard, but it feels like my anxiety has gotten worse again. I feel like I’m moving backward. 

Standing outside the Embassy, Javier lit a cigarette. The habit had returned in full as he fought to manage the stress of the day and ghosts of the night. He’d managed to keep his bed empty and his ashtray full. It felt like the better option of the two. 

He still hadn’t called home. His voicemail still held last week’s message from Alejandra. He fought with himself every night. The push and the pull to talk to Emily, but every night ended the same, drowning in smoke and whiskey. He wasn’t clean enough to have her or the kids. It was better this way. 

He felt useless down here. What good was the DEA if they weren’t going to actually do any enforcing. He and the whole agency were just expensive window dressing here to make it look like everything was above board, to get the DEA stamp of approval on this surrender deal. Javier hated it all.  

“Can I get one of those?” A woman appeared next to him, her dirty blond curls threaded with the soft grays and white of aging. Javier offered one up in a silence. “I quit four months ago.” She smiled before bringing it to her lips.

Javier cocked his head to the side, still assessing her motives. He hadn’t seen her around before. She wanted something, Javier just couldn’t decide what. He lit the cigarette for her as they both took a drag, sizing one another up as they did. 

He briefly wondered if her hair style was what Emily had in mind when she mentioned cutting it shorter. He still preferred the idea of her long curls. His chest tightened. Not that he had any right to a say in that. 

The woman squared up to him. “Carolina Alvarez, El Tiempo.” She held out her hand.

Just what he needed, the press. He let her hand hang in the air just long enough to make her feel uneasy before taking it with an admittedly poor handshake. As he suspected, it didn’t take long for her to launch into whatever introduction she had planned, pulling up his history with Los Pepes and the current politics happening with Cali’s plea deal. 

It was a power play. Javier refused to let her win. “You can call the press office if you want a comment, Miss Alvarez.”

“Carolina, please,” she said.

In another life, Javier wouldn’t give her the time of day. Of course, he didn’t have to deal with the press last time. That had been above his pay grade. He tossed the cigarette butt to the ground, stomping it out with his foot. Of course, he didn’t have to deal with her now. That was what the press office was for. “Have a nice day.” He turned, started to walk away. 

“Have you heard much about the Cali accident?” she asked. His steps slowed down. He turned back around. “Four more people dead. Children. Dozens more sick.” She stepped toward him. “An empty chlorine gas canister was found nearby.”

Javier kept his face straight. His shoulders tensed. He’d seen the initial report, but hadn’t thought too much about it. 

Caroline continued, taking his silence for permission. “There’s a rumor its manufacturer is linked to a front company operated by the Cali Cartel.”

“It’s like you said, it was an accident,” Javier said, expression etched in stone, not giving anything away. 

Carolina let out a humorless chuckle. “By the end of the day it will be. No matter what the truth is.” She met his eye, giving it a second for emphasis before lapsing into Spanish. “Thank you for the cigarette.” 

She walked away, leaving Javier in the same place, same expression on his face. He fought against his surging emotions. He wasn’t going to let some journalist use him to do her research. Even so, it nagged on him throughout the day. He found himself taking extra smoke breaks.  

When he found himself watching the evening news, the investigator calling it an accident, caused by a natural gas leak, Javier felt anger surge through him. How many families had to be torn apart to protect these men? Innocent children had died. Mothers had children to bury. That wasn’t right. That wasn’t justice. 

Pictures flashed across the screen, the children killed by the exposure. He’d seen children die before. He’d watched a man he respected shoot a teenager in the head as a warning. He’d held a gun to a kid. Those incidents had messed with his head enough, but these kids were in their homes, tucked into their beds. They were supposed to be safe. How many times had Javier watched as Emily ushered her children to bed, kissed their heads, and trusted that they'd be safe in their bed. That they would wake up. 

Javier was never good at guessing the ages of kids, but each face that flashes across the screen seems to remind him of them. Miguelito. Alejandra. Mateo. Children he’d grown to know, to love even…

This wasn’t right. Cali didn’t get to get away with it. Not this time. He shut the TV off, walking over to Chris Feistl’s desk. He leaned against the wall. “You got a partner, right?”

Chris looked up at him, confused and a little shocked. “Uh, yeah. Kinda.”

Maybe it could be different this time. Maybe he could still bring justice. 

“Good, you’re going to Cali.” He walked away before Feistl could respond. 

This time would be different.

Journal Entry September 18th, 1994 Dear Javi,

It hurts not to hear from you. Dad said all reports from Colombia have been good. I’m sure you’re getting restless. 

I had a panic attack in class this week. I had to leave ten minutes into the class. I hadn’t had one since Escobar was killed. That’s the longest I’d been without one since I came home. I was starting to think maybe I’d never have one again. 

I feel… disappointed. 

Javier met Carolina at a cafe. She gave him information about Cali's money launderer, Franklin Jurado. She pushed him in a way he needed just as she had in their first meeting. It seemed weird that perhaps his moral compass would come in the form of a nosy journalist. 

“Are you going to take these men on or what?” she asked.

Javier let out a quick breath, formulating his answer very carefully. “I’m going to do my job.”

“And your bosses?” Her gaze was piercing, like she was trying to see his soul or haunt his dreams until the job was done. “Do they know what you’re doing?”

His eyes drifted to his coffee. “No comment,” he said, putting the cup to his lips, pinning her with a soft glare he was sure she saw right through. 

She called him with the address an hour after he left.

Javier didn’t have to sit long before Franklin appeared on the steps, bags in tow. He was going somewhere, but where was the question. A driver appeared, helping the man with his bags and once they were packed, a woman walked toward him. Javier watched from his SUV as Franklin took her hand. She didn’t look happy to be saying goodbye, and then he held her tight. 

A pang shot through Javier’s chest as the blonde woman folded into her husband’s arms. She didn’t want him to go, but she was there to say goodbye anyway. An image of Emily flashed through his mind. The night before he left, she hadn’t cried, but he saw it in her eyes, felt it in the way she hugged him. He wondered if his coldness had made her cry since that night. This was better for her. She would be better off without him. He let out a sigh as he turned the ignition to follow Franklin’s, cutting off the thought before it wracked his body with guilt. 

After following Jurado to the airport, Javier headed for his own flight to follow him. Stechner blocked it, pulling him into the jungle with a couple of senators to rub elbows, to take him out like a show pony, the man who brought down Escobar, except he wasn’t even in the country when that happened. Everyone seems to ignore that part. 

He seethed on the helicopter ride in, feigning a broken headset to avoid talking. There were plenty of other places Javier would rather be, anywhere else really. He was supposed to be taking down Cali, despite what his orders were. Hell, he’d rather run for his life through the communas again than take a couple of stuffy senators on a stroll through the jungle. 

Humidity hung heavy in the air as sweat soaked his shirt. He was used to the weather, but in dress shoes and slacks it was hell. To make it all worse, it was apparent from the get go that it was a set up, a fancy, high tailed lie to raise support for whatever the CIA was gunning for, fighting communists or whatever. Javier found the whole pursuit to be a gigantic waste of time. He’d smuggled a communist out of the country once, he’d do it again without a second thought, but one thing became abundantly clear. Cali’s surrender had nothing to do with the war on drugs and everything to do with fundraising. 

Javier’s blood boiled the entire ride home, replaying his conversation with Stechner. The way the CIA agent had laughed about the drug war as if it was a joke. Maybe it was, but Javier wasn’t ready to let this one go. 

“The drug war? We lost it. You were there!”

It echoed on a fucking loop, driving him crazy as he made his way back home. There weren’t enough cigarettes in the world to numb the blows and they kept coming. 

“Did you ever stop to think that someone who takes this as personally as you do, is doing it wrong?”

He stubbed out the bud against his truck door as he got out, marching up the steps as he knocked on the door. 

This was personal. He couldn’t go home empty handed. He couldn’t face her without knowing he’d made an impact on this fight, brought down men like the one who’d inflicted such scars on her.  

Colonel Martinez opened the door, breaking Javier from his thoughts. He looked surprised to see him. 

Javier cut to the chase. “Want to go after Gilberto Rodriguez?”

Journal Entry October 2nd, 1994 Javi,

Where the fuck are you? It feels like my best friend abandoned me. You abandoned me. 

The day they arrested Gilberto Rodriguez, Javier went through the wringer, the emotional ups and downs. The DEA was excited. The bullpen had given him a round of applause, wanted to toast him. He didn’t like that. The ambassador had torn him a new one. Javier wasn’t a fan of that either. A meeting of high ranking Colombian officials with the American representatives showed the scope. Some felt this gave them more leverage while others feared it would make things worse, but the president ordered that Gilberto go through the same process as any other citizen. Javier considered that a win. He didn’t take pleasure in the press conference. 

By the time he made it back to the office, he had a killer headache, but it was thankfully empty by then. Javier pulled out the whiskey and the cigarettes. He didn’t necessarily feel happy, but he felt as if he’d done something finally.

Javier didn’t stop to celebrate or rest. He turned focus right back to Franklin Jurado, refocusing his attention on the launderer, but not before stopping to put a big, red X through Gilberto’s picture. That brought him a moment of happiness, but he paused to wonder.

He wondered if she had heard the news, seen the press conference. Did Emily know how much of a driving force she was to him? How much he wanted to clear the earth of every single cartel and drug boss, to make her feel safe again. For a second, he contemplated calling her. Could he know? Had he atoned enough? He shook his head at the thought, gripping the marker tightly in his hand. He would never atone enough. 

“This is Peña. Leave a message.” BEEP

“Mr. Javi. It’s me. Alejandrina.”

“I’m here too!” Mateo’s voice called out, sounding more distant than his sister’s. 

“Miguelito is here too. Mom is working in the yard.”

“You shouldn’t be doing this!” Miguelito said. “Grandpa is going to see it on the phone bill.”

“You never called me back.” Alejandra continued. “I saw you on the news in grandpa’s office. He didn’t know I saw. It sounded like you caught the bad guys. Can you come home now?”

“There’s more than one bad guy.” Miguelito reminded her. 

Alejandra sighed frustratedly as she went off in Spanish at her older brother. There was static on the receiver and then Mateo started talking as his older siblings fought in the background. 

“Mr. Javi. Stay safe. We love you. Bye.” The machine clicked off. 

Javier spent the next week in meetings getting berated or praised for the DEA’s actions, but mostly the berated. The doubt crept in at times. Maybe he should have left well enough alone, but it never stayed for long. He’d done the right thing. He was certain of that. 

Neil spent most of his time listening to the Jurado tapes in search of a location of Franklin. Nothing was turning up yet, but he still held out hope. Each conversation Franklin and his wife had tugged on something in Javier’s heart. Maybe it was the way she begged him to turn himself in, her worry, the anxiety. 

Even as he sat at the end of the bar, eyes pinned to Christina Jurado, Javier felt the guilt ebbing at him. Last year, he wouldn’t have thought twice about using Christina’s situation to get the information. It was easy enough, buy her a drink, pull out the charm, trick her into telling him where Franklin was. So why did he feel so damn bad about it? Why could he only picture Emily in the same position? 

Her situation had been nothing like this. They were two separate people in two separate realities. So why was he struggling with this? Why couldn’t he separate the two women? He should call her. 

Javier shook his head, waving the bartender over. He ordered a drink for Christina, clearing his head and dusting off the charm as he waited for the drink to be delivered. 

She looked annoyed at first, but the moment his English caught her ears, he watched her entire demeanor change. Javier knew he had it in the bag, but it didn’t feel as good as it used to. And then the words slipped out, almost like his mouth had a mind of its own. 

“You reminded me of someone. Someone from home.”

She liked that line, but he wanted to shower the moment he said it. What right did he have to utter even her existence in this place? None, but he’d done it anyway. Further evidence that he’d done the right thing by not calling her. 

Even through the guilt gnawing at him, Javier played the dutiful flirt. Almost lost himself in it, almost dared to enjoy it.

“So what could pull him away from-” He looked her up and down. “From all this.”

The words repeated in his mind. What could pull him away from her? In both cases the answer was the same. The Drug War. This all powerful thing that had left him battered and bruised yet kept drawing him back in. 

Christina paused, gave him another once over and then slid from her seat. “Say hi to Texas for me.”

Javi gave her credit, she was committed to her husband, or maybe his flirting skills weren’t as good as they used to be, either way, it was plan B. He called out the name she’d never told him, told her who he was, and she all but spit in his face. 

When Javier showed up at her front door later that day, she didn’t turn him away. He may not have learned where Franklin was, but she gave him the time of day. She listened. She all but told him she would try to convince her husband to turn himself in. She couldn’t look at him, didn’t look at him as he set his card on the coffee table, a far away look in her eyes, no doubt replaying the past, just like Emily when- Javier cut the thought off. This wasn’t her. This was different. 

He reasoned that he was doing this to help Christina, to keep her safe, but he knew that wasn’t true, his own selfish motives landing in the forefront of his mind. It was for the greater good, but how many people had he harmed for the greater good? 

Before he left, Javier vowed to keep Christina out of harm’s way. It was the least he could do. This time would be different.

It worked. Christina called Franklin almost as soon as he left. By the grace of god, the tap caught the man thanking someone in the language, specific enough to track him down to Curaçao. 

Before the night was over, Javier sat at the airport bar tapping his fingers against the smooth surface. He still couldn’t shake the feeling, the deceit of it all. He was caught off guard when his SAT phone rang. He answered, keeping an eye out at the bar around him. 

“Peña,” He answered, taking a sip of his whiskey. 

“Uh, it’s me… Christina Jurado.”

“I’m glad you called… You okay?”

“Please don’t lie to me,” Christina said. She sounded nervous, worried. “If I do this- if I get my husband to- you can protect us? We can go home?”

Javier’s chest tightened. He finished off his drink. “You have my word.” But he didn’t know how much his word carried these days.

She hesitated before answering. “I talked to him.”

“You did? That’s good.”

“He’s gonna cooperate.”

“He said that?” Javier picked up his duffel bag.

“No, not yet- but he will. I just… I need a little time.”

“That’s fine.” Javier walked down the terminal. “You take all the time you need.” 

He hung up without another exchange, just before his flight was announced over the intercom. Internally, he repeated his early promise. He’d keep her safe. 

Journal Entry October 15th, 1994

I dropped my classes today. I haven’t been able to make it to class. I thought I could do it. You thought I could do it…

Javier had almost forgotten the adrenaline rush of chasing down the bad guys. The hunt for Gilberto had been one thing, but the thrill of actually chasing someone down, weaving through the crowds, finally getting him. It felt good. It felt like a win when even his wins felt like losses these days. 

In all of Javier’s days in law enforcement, he’d never had someone ask about their wife. Never had anyone worried for anyone’s safety but their own, and he assured Franklin that she would meet them in Miami. 

Javier couldn’t help but admire the Jurado’s commitment to one another. For one, it made it a lot easier to get his witness, yet there was something about them. Tangled up in this mess, but still committed, still loving each other. 

As they landed, his phone rang again. Christina called him, freaking out about the men at her apartment. He had to tell her they’d arrested him. She reacted as he expected, upset and anxious, and surprisingly, his guilt had subsided. Maybe it was because they had Franklin. Maybe it was because he knew if she could get herself to the embassy, she would be safe. He’d done it. He’d brought Franklin in, and he hadn’t destroyed a family in the process. She just needed to get herself a couple miles before they found out Franklin was in custody.

“Christina, you want it, this is it.” He cut off her rambling firmly. “As soon as we hang up the phone, you get yourself to the American embassy. You don’t talk to anyone. You don’t call anyone. You get yourself there.”

He caught the whispers of her agreement before the line went dead. 

He paused a second after the call ended, staring at the keypad. Maybe it was the American soil. Maybe it was the fact that he was actually starting to feel good about this. He thought about calling for real, so close to punching the numbers he had memorized. Then he was reminded that he was on the tarmac. The job wasn’t done, but afterward, maybe he would call her. Except, Christina never made it to the embassy. 

An envelope with Emily’s handwriting greeted Javier when he got back to his apartment in Colombia. The return address confirmed it as he stared at it in the dim light of his apartment, rereading the address like he might catch a clue to its contents in the ink strokes. He debated opening it. The kids’ secret phone call to him from a couple weeks ago, the only message that accompanied Emily’s on his answering machine, ran through his mind. 

It was too late for this. It had been a long couple of days. The guilt that had returned tenfold since he left Miami without calling Emily, with Christina’s whereabouts unknown, but he ripped the seal open anyway. 

It was likely Emily ripping him apart, angry with him for abandoning her. Even the kids’ voicemail hadn’t been enough to make him call. He didn’t deserve them. Any of them. He was better off out of their lives.

He rubbed his forehead as he unfolded the paper, but it wasn’t words that greeted him, but bright colors and advanced stick figures drawn in crayon, five people. He furrowed his brow, looking back at the envelope. In the corner was Alejandra’s name atop the return address. In the picture, two adults, three kids, and a couple of horses all smiled back at him. He couldn’t help his own smile that ghosted his lips. Paz and Hurricane. His heart clenched. He hoped that Ale was still taking lessons at the ranch, and the boys practicing with the lasso. Alejandra had written their names above each person. 

He’d been a dick. Hadn’t returned calls like he said he would, promised he would, but Ale still wanted him to have this, Emily still sent it. She didn’t have to. She could have lied and thrown it in the trash instead. 

Javier cleared his throat as the page began to blur a little bit. He needed to go to sleep. He grabbed the maintenance magnet, using it to pin the drawing to his fridge. 

This time would be different. 

...........................................................

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