#DiMaggio brothers | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

somejazzinthemorning · 8 months

Text

tightrope. 11

Pairing: Carlos Sainz x Original Female Character Warning: Mature content Word Count: ~18K

It takes a lot to understand the truth when it is covered under years of hearing the same words. The word exploded around me, in screams and chants, confetti and champagne, but it all felt dull because when the phone rang the following morning, it was not “Papà” that was written on the screen.

It was not the day before, either. Or the days that followed.

Monday morning. 10 hours past the race, and Dad had not called.

Rio called right after the podium. The words tumbled from my lips, breathless and infused with the rush of adrenaline when I picked up the phone from Rocco’s hands and accepted the call. Racing down the pitlane, phone pressed to my face, I could feel the dampness of champagne against my skin and Rio’s voice erupting from the other end of the line, from the other side of the world.

“Eva! What the hell?!”

I was shaking—every cell in my body reverberating with the thrill of what we’d just accomplished. Time seemed slowed down, every detail around me sharper, more vibrant. My skin was covered in goosebumps, a mix of elation and disbelief coursing through me. My lips tasted of champagne, the sweet fizz lingering on my tongue. As my eyes flickered around the pitlane, taking in the sight of the small crowd of mechanics waiting for us at the end of the pitlane, the flags waving on the stands and the vibrant colours of team gear in the pitlane, a loud chuckle left my trembling lips, my fingers grip stronger on the trophy.

Reality seemed distorted, stretched over whatever material dreams were made of.

“A podium finish, Rio! A fucking podium finish!” My words blended in the cacophony of the team’s cheers, a symphony that echoed through the pitlane, now replacing the sound of the engines that had filled the air for the past six hours.

Ahead, Alexei, Alessandro Bianchi for more official affairs, set the pace. His legs were so long and quick it seemed like he was almost running. He was the one driving the car during the final laps. As for Henrik and me, we spent those last laps in the garage, our attention fixated on the car and the unfolding Corvette narrative. Shifting from that nail-biting tension to becoming drenched in a cascade of champagne, it was the blink of an eye.

Henrik's arm found its way around my neck, playfully pulling me into him. His tall frame towered above mine. “Time to drop the phone, DiMaggio. Let’s join the fiesta!”

“It’s my brother. Give me a minute.” I looked up, meeting his frowning face. “Promise you. Just a minute.”

Henrik was Finnish, had hair as fair as sunlight and eyes as blue as the ocean. He just nodded, and then I freed myself from his pull, walking to the side, finding support in the pit wall.

“I knew you could do it, ‘Vita. Sooner or later!” I pressed the phone against my ear, attempting to amplify my brother’s voice. “Get your head right, and everything else will fall into place. Look at what you just did.”

“I drove for less than 2 hours—”

“And you put the car exactly where it needed to be.” There was a genuine awe in my brother’s voice, something that I wasn’t quite used to listening to. Dad wouldn’t react this way. As a matter of fact, he didn’t react at all. “Those overtakes! That place must be going wild for you right now.”

I laughed, looking ahead. Alexei was climbing a mechanic’s back, his 36 years of age eclipsing as his face went full of joy and he looked like a child.

“Yeah. It’s… pretty insane.”

“The race ended less than half an hour ago and we’re already hearing your name all over the hotel. And we’re just having breakfast. You have no idea.” I’ve never heard Rio speak so fast in my life. A clatter resonated from Rio's end as if he was dragging a chair, and then his voice returned. “By the way, your timing is impeccable.”

“Why? What happened?”

My brother chuckled. “You managed to steal Carlos’ thunder on race day.”

“Shit, he’s starting on pole, right? Wish him luck for me.”

"No need to.” Oh. I was not ready to hear him. "I'm right here." A blend of excitement and wistfulness churned in my chest, a familiar pang of longing to be in two places at once. He wasn’t right there. Not anywhere close. “Man—Eva…” His voice rang again, I pictured the smile on his lips, as my name resonated. “You’re absolutely incredible.”

I leaned against the pitlane wall. Champagne dripped from my hair onto my face, the lingering taste a testament to the euphoria of the moment. I glanced upward, the raucous celebration of the team unfolding before me, champagne bottles raised high, exuberant cheers filling the air. Then, I looked down, at my wet fingers wrapped around the trophy,

“I wish you were here,” I murmured, my voice a soft whisper carried away by the wind. “Both of you.”

“DiMaggio!! Leave the phone!” Alexei called for me. In large, determined strides, he made his way toward me, holding a champagne bottle in his hand.

"I'll make sure to save some of this energy for when we reunite," I mused, my voice tinged with a mix of anticipation and longing.

“Hang up!” Alexei screamed, a playful edge to his tone as he quickened his pace. Henrik was behind him, holding another bottle. Their trophies had been left in the garage, on top of the car.

“Hope it won’t take long.” Carlos's voice, filled with warmth and affection, was the last thing I heard before the joyful chaos consumed me again, drenched in champagne and carried on my two teammates’ shoulders, back to the small crowd.

But then Monday came. With a throbbing headache and a dehydrated body, after a too-over-the-top evening packed with celebrations. My phone rang on the nightstand, and after picking it up, Nicola and Lin's faces filled the screen.

“You’ve got toothpaste on your cheek,” Lin pointed out, her surroundings showing the sturdy brick of her New York flat. She was back home, I didn’t know that. Somehow, I still thought she would be in Europe. “And congratulations on the race, by the way!”

Nicola sat in a dimly lit room, a soft white glow illuminating her face—by background noise that filled the air, I associated that the white glow was probably the glow of her TV. “I hate this time zone thing. Can’t stay long, sorry, hubby’s waiting for me in bed. What are you up to today?”

I glanced at the corner of the phone, noting the time. It was a bit before 7 a.m. It was probably around midnight for Nicola. As for Lin, it was a little past 7 p.m. I wiped away the toothpaste from my cheek and sat back on the bed, too tired to move.

“I have an interview today. At the track. In like, two hours. They’re doing tire testing, and James Anderson thought it would be a nice background for the interview.”

“James Anderson? The James Anderson?” Lin's enthusiasm was palpable as she turned in her chair, getting up from it seconds later and walking to another point in the room. The unsteady movement of the camera made my stomach churn. “Girl!”

Nicola laughed softly. “Eva, on a scale of 1 to 10, how freaked out are you?”

“A big ass 11.”

“You've got this in the bag,” Lin's voice chirped through the phone, her enthusiasm cutting through the fog of fatigue that lingered in my mind. “Unless you’re still a bit drunk from last night.”

“Just a tiny bit,” I admitted, flopping back onto the bed. The sudden motion made me feel queasy. “Yeah. Fuck. Not exactly drunk, but way too hungover for this. I don’t even know why I said yes to the interview. There’s literally nothing to talk about.”

“He did an amazing piece on the race. Well, an amazing piece on you,” Nicola chimed in. “I’ll post it tomorrow on the team’s socials.”

“That’s why Rocco convinced me to say yes.” I rolled over in bed, seeking a hint of comfort from the pillow and the soft comforter. “Why? I don’t know.”

“Get out of bed, or you'll fall asleep,” Nicola urged. “Also, get out of bed so I can go to bed.”

“You can go. I'll keep her company and help with what she should say.”

“She knows it better than you do,” Nicola was right. I was usually the one media training my clients, providing them with a bullet point list of acceptable topics and answers. So, technically, I should be able to do it for myself. But exhaustion from the weekend's efforts, compounded by a hangover, left me feeling drained. “Don’t you?”

“I do. But I’m just tired. I really, really don’t want to do this right now. I have a belly ache.”

“Eva, come on.” Lin moved again, her energy almost overwhelming enough to make me feel nauseated. “If you get nervous, just imagine the man in his underwear. They say it helps.”

I burst into laughter, the absurd mental image of James Anderson in his underwear momentarily banishing the exhaustion that had weighed on me. “Who says?”

Nicola threw her head back, laughing in response.

Lin grunted. “Them. People.”

"Thanks for that mental image, babe. I'll keep it in my back pocket."

As the laughter subsided, my eyes caught the corner of the screen. Time was passing. The interview was getting closer, and the reality of facing the camera was beginning to set in. Lin's expression turned earnest. "Seriously, Eva, you've got this. Stop overthinking. Just be yourself and ride this wave of success. You're on top of the world."

“That’s what scares me.”

And just like that, a frown appeared on both of their faces. Nicola's frown was more pronounced due to the glow of the TV in the background. Then, she clicked her tongue. “Ah, that’s why you wanted us to call.”

“Exactly.”

“And here I thought you were just missing us,” Lin teased. “Seriously, babe. You’ve got this.”

“Tell us what’s wrong.”

"It's just that sometimes…. I don’t feel like I deserve this? Like it should be harder than it is. Yeah, I can race. And yeah, I'm good at it. Pretty good. But the pressure? The questions? The idea that people are looking at me and expecting me to fail… I've been sick to my stomach just wondering what's happening next because that's what all those goddamn reporters kept asking me yesterday. And—I don’t know. I feel like my Dad is right. I'm not fit for this. ”

“What did that jerk say to you, again?”

“Lin, he’s her dad.”

“Yeah, and he was, is, whatever, my boss. Screw him, honestly. Eva, listen.” She paused and slid one of her lock braids to be back of her ear. “I hope you know he’s a loser, and everything he does and says is just a reflection of how much of a loser he is. He needs to control your life in a way he never got to control his—”

“Lin—”

“No, I don’t care. Listen.” She paused. Nicola took a deep breath, and I followed suit. “He’s your dad, I know. But I’ve been there and I’ve heard the stuff he says. I know him. I worked with Rio when we were both fresh out of college, and I've seen the way he treats both of you.” Again, I attempted to stop her, but she raised one finger. “And I've had enough. The fact that he’s your father isn’t a reason for him to be as mean as he is when things don’t go according to his plans. I've seen him blame Rio, in front of the whole team, for a storm on a test day because he should have known—”

“A test day. Yes, well, those are usually…”

“I don’t care. He’s your dad. He parades you around the way he thinks is best. What did he say this time?” Lin had a way of cutting through the noise and getting straight to the heart of the matter.

“A lot of stuff about how this sport isn’t for me and how he can’t understand my change of mentality in the last few weeks… How I fit better in an office. Just—a lot.”

“Of course he can’t. He never understood you at all. He’s not a good man, love.” She paused. “And I’m sorry.”

“But he’s my dad.”

“He is,” Nicola hummed. “But that doesn’t mean you owe him anything. You’re your own person.”

“Actually, I owe him my entire career.”

“Just because he has the money. And—Think: he never did one single thing for you that would risk his money. For heaven's sake, he made you race in The Challenge after you spent a year at home, struggling with anxiety and depression and he didn’t care if you were ready or not. The only thing he knew was that he was going to lose money if he didn’t get a driver in that seat. Rio was completely done with racing and there was no one available to take the remaining spot.”

“But I wanted to race.”

“I know you did.” Lin’s voice softened. “But like that, hun? From FRECA to The Challenge? We hoped you'd advance to at least any other regional series. Or that he would push for F3, he did it for Rio and, let’s face it, he’s not half as good as you.” I took a moment to absorb her words. They were raw, unfiltered truths that I had been avoiding. “It felt like you were back to square one. Doesn’t surprise me that you kept yourself busy with that college friend. Amanda, right?”

“Yes. And I still am. Keeps me busy. I can't have too much downtime, or else I go crazy.”

“Exactly. So…” Nicola interjected. “That’s not how it should be. You need breaks. You need downtime. You need to rest. You just had a break, and you had the time and the peace of mind to find your groove again.”

“I was in good company. In a nice place. And was busy with that said company.”

“See? So the issue is your Dad. It’s been what? Two weeks since you came back from Mallorca, and you just got a freaking podium, and now you’re struggling again because your Dad said things that made you overthink everything. You were so happy during the weekend, what happened?”

“He didn’t call. I thought I had proved him wrong and he didn’t even bother to call. And he’s my dad, you know? And now James Anderson is going to ask me stuff about the future my dad is holding in his hands. And I don’t want to answer.”

“Okay, let’s…” Nicola took a deep breath, her hand reaching for her hair and pulling it back. I sat up in bed, realizing it was time to gather myself. “You are holding that said future. Get the fuck out of bed, put on some makeup, and head to the track. Do the interview. It will go well. Don’t overthink the answers. It’s PR and you’re great at that. So just—think you’re one of your clients. And if your mind starts spiralling, Rocco is right there; I know he can keep you occupied if needed.”

Lin burst into laughter. “Oh, he can definitely keep her occupied.”

“Gross. He’s technically an employee.” I retorted. “And I bet he’s taken.”

“I’m sure Pulcini will be around, too,” Lin added, and I finally got out of bed, leaving my phone on the credenza, capturing me as I moved around the room and picked up my sneakers. “Or have we moved on from him?”

“We’re not focused on that because I’m working!”

“Can I finally go to bed? I want to get occupied, too.”

“No one here is getting ‘occupied,’” I remarked, slipping on my sneakers. “But yes, go to bed. I’ll do my makeup and head out.”

“It will go well, baby,” Lin said. “And if it gets weird, well, remember the underwear thing.”

The pit lane buzzed with activity, a hubbub of conversations and the clatter of rattle guns. Standing amidst it all, I found myself at the center of attention. The warmth of the sun kissed my skin, while in the distance, I could hear the sounds of the paddock being packed into trucks.

Before me stood James Anderson, his lanyard hanging casually over his chest, almost masking the fact that he wasn’t just another journalist, but the renowned James Anderson himself. Two chairs were positioned at the heart of the pit lane, a camera strategically placed near the pit wall, and a bustling garage composed the backdrop. Alexei and Henrik occupied the seats on the pit wall, their legs dangling, dressed in relaxed t-shirts and jeans. Matteo was in his race suit, totally recovered from the food poisoning episode, and ready to take on the test day.

The car would leave the garage in 20 minutes, so we had exactly that time. Not one minute more.

Despite the camera, Anderson held a notepad in his hand. His salt-and-pepper hair danced with the wind, uncovering his eyes, and sparking with curiosity. I noticed the subtle lines around them, testimony to the countless years spent witnessing greatness on track.

“Happy we can do this, Eva. I've been trying since your victory at Imola. Exceptional performance at the Challenge, too, by the way.”

I wasn’t aware of this desire to interview me earlier. As a matter of fact, I wasn’t aware he was even aware of my existence until he met me in the garage, after the podium ceremony.

"Well… now, we have more to talk about," I remarked, my smile flowing naturally. Anderson nodded, directing his gaze toward the cameraman, a signal to commence recording. "Be gentle with me," I quipped, playfully brushing aside my anxiety.

His laughter rang out. "No need to worry."

Casting a final glance at Alexei and Henrik, the latter waving at me just before Anderson shifted in his seat, reclaiming my attention, I took a final deep breath. This wasn't within my training regimen. I was nervous. My belly aching.

“Eva, let me start by congratulating you on your remarkable performance this weekend. You stepped in for your teammate Matteo Serra during the practice session. Could you walk us through how you adapted to the situation so quickly and what mindset you had going into the race?”

I nodded. My hands were on my thighs, fingers almost melting with the fabric of my jeans. Jesus. This was hard. On top of that, I could feel Alexei’s coal eyes on me, the intensity of his gaze travelling above Anderson’s shoulder, boring into me.

“Yeah, well. First of all, thank you,” I began, a smile tugging at the corners of my lips. The sunlight played across my face, warming my skin as I spoke. The journalist's expression seemed to relax, his posture slowly becoming more open. “Ahm—right, honestly, it was a whirlwind. Stepping into Matteo’s shoes so unexpectedly meant a quick mental switch. But that's what we’re trained for and what the team expects from me. I had to quickly familiarize myself with the track and the car's nuances… So, the team support was crucial, really. Alexei and Henrik were amazing the whole weekend,” I glanced towards my teammates, looking at each other, smiling. “We worked together to ensure a seamless transition, and I'm truly grateful for their trust.”

The slight tremor in my fingers betrayed the composed façade I was trying to showcase. I could feel the weight of the race weekend on my shoulders.

“Your performance during the race, particularly your amazing overtakes, drew the attention of many in the paddock.” The reporter went again. “Can you share the strategy and approach you took to navigate through the field and secure that impressive fourth-place finish?”

“Well, thank you again.” I chuckled softly, the sound carrying a mixture of humility and genuine pleasure. “I’m not used to this, I’ll admit.”

“Just being honest.”

“Okay—well… the strategy was a mix of precision and calculated risk. The adrenaline was pumping, and I was fully immersed in the race… And when the command to push came, and I realised the team trusted me, I just went for it. My general approach was to find those windows of opportunity without compromising the overall strategy… I mean, we had more pace than we expected and we had to make something out of it. We didn’t qualify great, what was a boomer, because we had faith we could qualify in the top 10. So, that not being the case, we had to be at 110%. The team did amazing with the pitstops, and the guys did amazing stints as well… And.. Since I was feeling comfortable with the car—thankfully I drive a similar car in another series, so it became a bit easier… I had to go for it. So, yeah—It's quite surreal to think about it now, but… I'm still in awe of how everything came together.”

My gaze drifted to the marks of tire rubber still visible on the asphalt. I could almost feel the energy of the cars rushing through the main straight, my feet vibrating with the phantom energy still running around us.

“You mentioned the team’s trust… DAR Racing's decision to extend your stint turned out to be a wise move since we could clearly see that you were getting gradually more confident in the car and risking more. At your level, with so little experience, how did you manage to maintain your focus and energy during that crucial period of the race? Did doubt quick in or…?”

This time, I couldn’t find comfort in the details on the pitlane. Anderson’s eyes didn’t leave mine. Curiosity glistened through his dark eyes, his passion and interest so clear. Probably he had noticed my state on the radio. The thousand questions I asked, how I pressed from lap times and places of improvement. I was freaking out inside the car. Properly. I wanted to go fast. Faster. I wanted to come out of every corner perfectly.

“Interesting point… Yeah—So…” I took a moment, my hands subtly trembling from a mix of lingering adrenaline and fatigue. My eyes flickered toward the reporter, his expression a mix of interest and empathy. “Maintaining focus and energy during the stint was undoubtedly challenging.” Pause. A small breath. “As the laps went by, I did feel a surge of confidence building within me but the team's strategy and encouragement played a huge role in keeping me on track, both mentally and physically.” I chuckled softly, a glint of self-awareness in my eyes, realizing the play of words. “But yeah—doubt is a natural human response in such a demanding situation. I’d never done anything similar. Or even raced for this much time. What was it? A bit more than an hour and a half?” Pause. He nodded. “Yeah. So. There’s a lot involved and a big part is the mental game. I'm grateful I had the right support system to keep me motivated through the race.”

Alexei's presence stretched through the pitlane, his supportive gaze feeling like a reassuring anchor. Henrik, with his elbow perched on Alexei’s shoulder, sent me a nod of approval. They were witnesses to the doubt, to the lack of sleep on Thursday night when I was notified that Matteo was on his way to the hospital, after throwing up for almost one hour straight and my body and mind couldn’t seem to handle the fact I would be driving that weekend.

They were patient. They made it possible.

I couldn’t help but smile.

Anderson, probably noticing the silent exchange, looked over his shoulder. Turning to me, another question hung on his lips. “You seem really in sync with the team. And all throughout the weekend, I've noticed that many drivers and personnel from rival teams came over to congratulate you, especially yesterday, during the celebrations. Could you speak about the role of… camaraderie and sportsmanship in your approach to motorsports?”

“Absolutely,” I affirmed with a genuine smile. “Those values are essential aspects of motorsports for me. Racing is not just about individual performance—it's being part of a larger community. Every driver—rather, every person on the paddock shares a common passion, and that creates a unique bond. I believe that mutual respect and support make the racing experience richer and more fulfilling. When rivals come over to offer their congratulations, it shows that we're all part of a shared journey. And that helps put things in perspective.” I paused, my gaze returning to the journalist's attentive expression. “I grew up with a lot of good examples of great sportsmen, from different ages and backgrounds. They inspire me to be the athlete I am. And I learn from them. I know and I’ve seen that being in sync with my team and everyone around me is paramount. And about the team… we're like a well-oiled machine, working together to achieve a common goal. The team’s trust in me and my trust in them is the key to achieving an environment where we can perform at our best.”

“What happens now?” Anderson leaned back on his chair, crossing his right leg over the other. “What are the plans for the future? Do you think this race opened a couple more doors your way?”

It’s PR, I remembered myself.

“Right now, I'm still taking in the incredible experience of this race and savouring the team's success,” I began, my voice carrying a blend of satisfaction and excitement. “Looking ahead, the future holds exciting possibilities, that’s for sure. But we still have a few races this year, so we'll continue to analyze our performance, identify areas for improvement, and build on the momentum we've gained. And as for my personal journey… I believe this race has indeed opened a couple more doors for me. It's a validation of the hard work and dedication I've poured into my career. It’s not been easy, and the road has been long and hard, so it’s positive to see how it’s unfolding. I'm truly ready to embrace whatever challenges and opportunities come my way. Whether it's stepping up to compete more regularly, collaborating with other teams, or pursuing new ventures—I can say I'm determined to make the most of the doors that may or may not open and strive for even greater achievements in the future. Whatever they are.”

“I remember seeing you in FRECA, and it was a shame you didn't have a chance to end your amazing 2019 campaign.” My teeth sunk into my bottom lip. I was not expecting to go so deep into the past. “Did the unexpected end to the season, with you not taking part in the last races of the season, have anything to do with the break you took in 2020 and the new route you took last year?”

“Yes, well—” I moved in my chair. “The end of the 2019 season didn't go as planned, and it did play a role in the decisions I made afterwards. However, the break I took in 2020 was primarily a result of some personal issues and the need to focus on my overall well-being. With the pandemic, that forced me to slow down, I realized that I needed to take a step back, regroup, and come back stronger.”

As I spoke, the memories of that challenging period flickered in my mind—the uncertainties, the doubts, and the eventual realization that prioritizing my mental and emotional health was essential. 2019 was supposed to be my big year, the breakout. Yet, it was an utter nightmare. Losing a seat over team politics and small-minded men, especially when I was a championship contender, felt worse than anything I’ve ever experienced.

“Can you elaborate a bit more on those personal issues?” Anderson tilted his head.

“I understand the curiosity, but I'd prefer to keep the specifics to myself.” Once again, the reported nodded.

"It's known you took a different route and you've not been driving full-time since then. Do you see racing as a hobby? It’s a very expensive one to have.” He chuckled. I moved in my seat.

Well, you would never say that to a man, I thought to myself.

“It’s certainly far more than a hobby for me. While it's true that my journey has taken a unique path in recent years, it's important to note that every step I've taken has been with a specific purpose.” I paused, not sure if I was truly conveying the message I aimed for.

2020 had been tough. Mom and Dad quarantining in Verona, with my grandparents. Rio focused on his heavily pregnant wife and, later, their newborn twins. Carlos was… doing his thing. And I was at home, being consumed by a monster that fed on my own sadness and self-doubt. I didn’t want to project that image. The world couldn’t know that person.

“As you know, the commitment, dedication, and effort required in motorsports are immense and it's not a pursuit I take lightly.” I continued. “As with any other driver, there are challenges outside racing. Some can handle them better than others. I felt the need to stop for a while and take it easy on myself. That doesn’t make me less of a driver.”

“Is this hybrid mode, if I can call it that, helping with those issues?”

“It helped, until now. A lot of other drivers have a business on the side, that’s just a small percentage of what I do. Did.” I corrected myself. “I intend to be 100% focused on racing next year.”

“What made you take that decision?”

“The timing feels right, both personally and professionally.”

“You’re on a high, that’s for sure,” Anderson said, his hand meddling with his pen. “Considering those challenges you've mentioned, how do you feel your experiences outside the track have influenced your approach to racing now?”

"A lot has been happening these last two years. To be honest, I’m still in the process of looking back, reflecting on my journey and reevaluating my goals. Especially these last weeks… I’ve reencountered some people from the past and it helped me to look behind… It helped me gain a deeper understanding of myself, my strengths, and the areas I wanted to work on. As a result, I'm feeling more like myself. Every good or bad thing that happens is a part of us. And it’s not a setback, it’s just a… detour. A part of the comeback, too.” Anderson smiled at my worlds, I smiled too. “This weekend showed me exactly that—that I’m still the girl I was a few years ago. All the setbacks I’ve found… All my experiences, really, have taught me the importance of balance, resilience, and essentially mental well-being, which I believe are essential not only for success on the track but also for overall fulfilment.”

“And as for the future? Could you tell us a bit more about the specific goals you're aiming to achieve with DAR Racing and in your motorsport career moving forward?”

“And as to the future…” I paused. “My focus is on continuous improvement and pushing my limits. And working on myself. I'm fortunate to be part of a team that believes in my potential and supports my growth. Right now, my goal is to contribute to the team's success, while also aiming to achieve personal milestones, of course. It’s all very in the open, to be honest. As I said, I'm dedicated to making the most of every opportunity and showcasing my abilities. Ultimately? I aspire to compete at the highest level, as any other athlete."

"Highest level?” His eyebrow pointed up. “What do you exactly mean?”

"Competing against the best. Motorsport offers various tiers of competition, and my ultimate goal is to eventually reach the pinnacle of motorsport, whether it's in Formula 1, endurance racing, or any other top-tier championship.” Anderson seemed surprised. I cracked a laugh and he followed. “Doesn’t hurt to dream, does it? I’m aware this journey requires consistent dedication, hard work, and especially the right opportunities. I’m just leaving it in the open." I shrugged.

"So, the single-seaters aren’t out of the question?"

"Absolutely not! Formula 1 remains a dream—more than that, a goal. While my current focus is on endurance racing, I wouldn't rule out the possibility of pursuing a career in single-seaters if the right opportunity arises.”

“That’s bold.”

“Can’t settle for less.”

Anderson laughed and extended his hand in my direction. “That’s the spirit.”

Amanda rented a small Airbnb in Berlin, paid for the company, of course, and located less than 5 minutes away from her client’s new store. The floor of the entrance hall was all boxes and shopping bags, greeting me as I arrived. On the corner, there was a small space for my shoes, the only free space, actually, which meant that I had to grab my suitcase and hover it over the boxes, to make my way to my room.

She had texted me just as I landed, telling me she would be at the store all morning and that I could use some time to sleep and rest and join her at the store in the afternoon. And despite being massively jet-lagged, I couldn’t phantom the idea of going to bed at noon. My body was completely disoriented after a twenty-hour flight that had departed from Japan on Monday night and landed in Berlin on Tuesday morning.

The concept of time didn’t make sense at all.

During the flight, I immersed myself in a sea of and stories about myself. The spotlight was glaring down on me, the expectations and anticipation weighing down my shoulders. “WHAT COMES NEXT?” plastered across every other tweet or headline. And, of course, I asked myself the same question.

Little did I realize that my little pastime was nurturing the little monster hidden in a corner of my mind, that I so desperately tried to ignore by eating cookies and Doritos and drinking whatever beverage they had available on the flight.

I’d said more than I should in the interview with Anderson, I realized.

In every other tweet, my name was linked to Carlos, to his dad and to a potential seat in F3 that I knew nothing about. On every social media post, a lot more comments than usual, especially after Marjorie’s Mallorca dump, where I was pictured with Carlos behind me, on the boat, his hand over my shoulder—what quickly became “proof” to our connection.

Too much happening in such little time.

And time didn’t make sense.

And my body ached.

And Even Amanda, whom I thought would be focused at work, was swept up in the buzz of the moment. There was a bottle of Ferrari champagne on the dinning table. “We will open it at dinner”, a small note said.

I couldn’t make tea because I couldn’t find the teapot, and heating up water in the microwave was just too low. I was tired. I needed coffee or tea, or just anything with a strong flavour and enough caffeine, and then I remembered there was a small coffee shop downstairs.

But I was just so tired, and so in need of a break, that my feet took me to the empty room at the end of the hallway and I collapsed in bed. Not to sleep. But just to take a break. To exist and listen to the silence, and to life happening outside, in some random street of Berlin.

The grip of jet lag tightened as Berlin’s heat added to my discomfort.

I rolled in bed.

And then I remembered that for the first time in more than a week, Carlos and I were in the same time zone. And life seemed a bit better. I stretched my hand to the phone. There was a message from him hanging in my inbox. “Call me when you land.”

“Oh, you were quick to pick up,” I said, my voice laced with traces of tiredness.

He chuckled on the other side of the line. “Yeah, it seems I can’t go too long without hearing from you. Is the flat nice?”

“It's cozy. Going to be an interesting experience sharing the place with Amanda for a few days. I had to perform some serious parkour moves just to get through the entrance because the hallway is packed with boxes. She’s not exactly the tidiest person.”

Carlos laughed softly. “As if you could talk.”

I playfully sighed. “I’m sorry, Mr. Virgo, if I don’t live up to your standards.”

He chuckled again, the sound soothing and familiar. "Well, just make sure you don't trip over any of those boxes. I need you whole when you get back."

"I'll do my best," I replied, a grin sneaking onto my face despite the fatigue that still clung to me. "How's your day been so far?"

We fell into an easy conversation, talking about everything and nothing at the same time. His words were like a balm, easing away the remnants of jet lag and anxiety and replacing them with a sense of connection that stretched across the miles. He was still in Italy, getting ready to fly for Zandvoort. It would be a packed week, apparently. Starting on Wednesday, all the way to Sunday. And then repeat all of that for Monza, the next week. At a certain point, he started complaining about Rio and his insistence on taking Team 55 to dinner to celebrate Carlos’ birthday, and then spending midnight together, have a drink and toast to another year.

I would be at said dinner, but that surprise was something Carlos didn't need to know just yet.

Between stories of Amsterdam and Zandvoort and how Spa had gone for him, we finally reached the topic. Japan. The podium.

“About that,” Carlos's voice echoed warmly through the phone's speaker. I settled deeper into the comfy pillows, his words soothing away the fatigue that had clung to me since landing. "You won't believe it, but he couldn’t shut up about you. I've never seen Rio so damn proud as he was on Sunday," he confessed.

I couldn't help but chuckle at the thought. "That's a first," I replied, my voice laced with amusement. "I think he'd sooner admit to believing in unicorns than admit to praising me.”

Carlos chuckled softly, and I could almost picture the affectionate smile on his face. “I barely saw him at the garage. He was around… networking, as he put it. Even took some notes from Caco.”

“He better take lessons from the master. Guess I'll have to rely on him since I don't have Dad to do it for me anymore.” Carlos cleared his throat, and it sounded like a gentle reprimand. “What was that for?”

“You would do it even if you were alone.”

“I don’t have the people skills for that.”

“You do,” he quickly interjected. His words hung in the air, and I scrunched my nose, the silence between us perhaps conveying more than words ever could. “Are you having doubts?”

I pondered for a moment, my body shifting in bed as if searching for a more comfortable posture to handle the subject. “Hm. It’s too late for that,” I began. “I mean, it's all done now, you know? I've adjudicated all my clients to other colleagues. My agenda is clean. I've sent my resignation letter. I’m just tying up some loose ends now.”

“That’s good,” Carlos said, and then a heavy silence enveloped us once more. It felt like a looming shadow, draping itself over me, heavy and dark. “Isn’t it?”

“It is. It just…” I hesitated, searching for the right words.

“Yes?”

“I’m… apprehensive.”

“Okay…” I heard him take a deep breath, and I closed my eyes, yearning for his comforting presence. “Why? What’s going on inside?”

A warmth spread through me, knowing that he cared enough to ask these questions. “Do we really need to have this talk?”

“Yes.” His response was firm, yet there was an undeniable gentleness in his voice. I felt a rush of emotions, a mixture of vulnerability and relief. God. How much I needed him right there at that moment. “I don’t want you to carry the weight of this change alone.”

Something shifted inside me, a sense of support that I hadn’t fully acknowledged before. I let out a sigh, feeling a strange weight lifting off my shoulders. The liberty to be human, and act like myself. To have fears, and doubts and to have the liberty to be vulnerable and share them.

“It’s been a lot, you know?” My voice cracked as my throat seemed to become small. I paused for a second, just to hear him hum on the other side, encouraging me to continue. “I can’t visualize it. I can’t see myself there, because I don’t feel like there is. I feel lost. And tired. People expect me to know what I want. To know the way. To be fierce and decisive, but I'm not that person. At least not now. I'm seeing her again, but I'm still... lost. I have this… thing. An anxiety that lives here, that I can’t put on hold.”

“Eva—”

“No, let me finish. I have more than enough reasons to know I’m kind of good, to know I’m good. But there’s something screaming that I’m not great. That I’m not enough. That I should have never stopped, that I should have started racing sooner… I mean, take my interview with Andeson.” I paused. “I said too much, people are talking and going deeper into my life, and stalking my socials and making theories about everything. I have people liking photos from 2015, for heaven's sake. And I’m refusing to go on Twitter because I don’t want to read what they’re saying.”

Carlos chuckled, his voice soothing. “That's how it goes, love. It shouldn't be that way, but it's unfortunately part of the package. Remember that’s not what matters.”

“What happens on the track is what matters,” I asserted.

“Exactly,” Carlos took a deep breath before continuing. "I know you like being in your bubble, Eva. I do too. But unfortunately, I'll have to share you with the world if we want a chance to keep your name in their mouths. And we need that chance because you deserve a great seat for next year."

I sighed, understanding the weight of his words. "Share me, huh?"

He let out a playful sigh. "Let me be a bit selfish here. I just got you back, and now I'll have to share you with the world? Unfair."

"Is it really that hard to bear?"

Carlos replied in a teasing tone, "You have no idea. Sharing you with the world? Torture."

I chuckled, his playful tone bringing a sense of lightness to our conversation. "Well, I'll try to make it as painless as possible for you. Besides, you'll always have a special VIP pass to my bubble."

He chuckled, his voice warm and affectionate. "I'll hold you to that. Now…” he hesitated. "I have to leave in… 20-ish minutes. Nap time for you?"

I sighed dramatically. "Yeah, I guess I can squeeze in a bit of sleep."

"Good,” He paused. “You need rest"

"And you're not mad about me missing the GP?"

There was a short pause before he answered, his voice sincere. "I won't lie and say I'm thrilled, but I understand. Work's work, love. And I’ll have you in Monza. We'll have our celebration whenever is possible."

I smiled, warmth flooding through me. "Thank you for understanding, even when I'm disappointing your birthday plans."

He chuckled. "It’s okay, bebé. I'll survive the birthday blues. Just promise me you'll take care of yourself. And get enough rest."

"I promise," I said softly, gratitude filling my voice.

“I’ll call you tonight.”

“Counting on it.”

I nestled back into the pillows, my mind finally quieting down as I let sleep claim me once more. Our conversation replayed in my thoughts, a reminder that no matter the miles between us or the challenges we faced, our bond remained.

“Carlos’ birthday is tomorrow,” I said. On the other side of the line, Marjorie's affirming hum tickled my ear. “What do you give a man that has everything?”

Marjorie's voice crackled through, a touch raspy and warm. “Really good head.”

I haltered, trying to muffle a chuckle and glanced discreetly at the man on the opposite side of the counter. I couldn't help but wonder if he overheard her audacious suggestion; it was practically impossible, but his stern expression made me second-guess.

“Let’s keep it a little more PG, shall we?” I whispered, my words barely escaping my lips. “I was thinking more along the lines of a watch. You know, like a normal person.”

She giggled, unapologetic. “Yeah, your denial game is strong.”

“You wouldn’t buy it even if I tried.” I think I sounded more annoyed than I expected, and Marjorie’s quick reply and tone did indeed confirm it.

“True. So, why deny it anyway?”

I shifted my gaze to the abstract painting on the wall, and then to the display filled with bracelets and watches. The light refracted on the screens, glistening and tempting me to pick one of them up. I approached one of the displays. One of the Rolex watches seemed to smile at me.

“It’s complicated,” I murmured.

“That’s your favourite word.” She paused, the silence a bit dull, but I wasn’t sure of what to say. “But you don’t need to say a thing, you know? It’s pretty darn obvious what’s going on between you two. Seriously, even standing five meters away, it’s nauseating.”

“Marge, don’t—”

“Eva, I get it. You want to take things slow, bla bla bla, I know your speech, already. It’s the same for every boy. Nut come on! It’s Carlos! I know you always liked him. And even if he was a stranger… I mean he’s still Carlos Sainz.” She sighed.

“You won’t shut up, will you?”

“Never.” She paused for a second, and when I thought I could speak, she started again. "We all were in Mallorca, and I've seen enough walks of shame to spot one. And it was almost suffocating near you during Blanca’s dinner. The tension was absurd.”

“What do you want me to say?”

“I don’t know. At least stop being weird about it.”

“I’m not weird about anything. I called you just want your help to choose a gift for his birthday and you didn’t even let me talk yet. Are you and Rio giving him something?”

“Yes. Your brother is giving him something, not sure what, honestly.”

“You’re really trusting him with that?”

“It’s his best friend. If he fucks up, it's his responsibility.” She quipped and then cracked a laugh. I chuckled silently, my eyes drifting through the small collection.

“Going back to my gift…” I brought the conversation back on track.

“Yes…”

“I left the store to go pick up some food for lunch and I found a cute little shop on the way,” I started. It was much more than "cute"—it was truly a hidden gem in the heart of Berlin. “I was thinking of something vintage, you know? A watch… with a leather bracelet, maybe. And I don’t have much time to waste because I’m leaving today to Zandvoort and I can’t get there with anything.”

“He has a collection of watches, Eva.”

“He has literally a collection of everything,” I sighed. “Hence the challenge. I want to stand out.”

“Well, I told you one way to stand out.”

"I'm trying to be a little more sophisticated here," I retorted.

"Oh, do you need suggestions for a no-smudge red lipstick?" Marjorie countered, her suggestion dripping with mischievous wit. “I can help with that.”

“Fuck off.”

“Babe, you showing up there will be nicer than any watch.”

I hummed, my feet tracing the store floors, walking the steps I’d already walked twice or thrice that evening. before calling Marjorie, I’d spent ten minutes in there, staring at the watches, and despite loving the atmosphere and the feeling of all my senses being captivated by the allure of history, I was in need of going back outside and getting some food.

Every piece was a good pick.

Each one with a story of its own, sparkling under the soft glow of the display lights, their gears whispering secrets of forgotten eras, waiting to be unveiled by its new owner.

I picked up a beautiful antique Rolex with a leather strap, the rich aroma of aged leather mingling with the fragrance of nostalgia that permeated the air. It exuded an air of sophistication, and I could already picture him wearing it under the brim of his race suit.

“I’m sending you a pic on WhatsApp.”

And after I did, Marjorie's voice came through the phone, breaking my reverie. "That one is lovely.”

“But it’s so… normal.” I sighed, feeling torn between the classic elegance of the leather bracelet and the desire to find something truly unique for Carlos.

"It’s a Rolex.” She deadpanned. “I swear to God, it’s been years since I married into this family and I still can’t relate to you all. But yeah, somehow I get what you mean. But it's Carlos. He doesn't care about extravagant."

“But I do.”

“Miss,” the shop owner's voice interrupted our conversation, and I turned to face him with a polite smile. "I'm really sorry to disturb you, but we’re about to close.”

I nodded apologetically at the shop owner, realizing that I had been so engrossed in my conversation with Marjorie that I hadn't noticed the time. "Of course, I'm sorry. I got carried away… Marge,” I talked into the phone. “I’ll call you later, ok?"

"No need to apologize," he said kindly, gesturing towards the watch in my hand. "You seem to have a good eye for these kind of pieces. Is there anything specific you're looking for?"

"Well," I hesitated, glancing back at the watch and the man before it put it down in its place. "I'm trying to find a birthday gift.?"

The old man smiled understandingly, his eyes glistening under his round glasses. "Well,” he looked at his watch. “I can spare a few more minutes to help you, miss. Is it for a friend? A family member?"

"A friend. He travels a lot, he’s a racing driver… So I was thinking of something like a watch or a bracelet, something practical that he can carry around or just… something to have at home…? I mean…” I paused, my eyes wandering through the counter, my iris meeting the shiny screens of the watch under the store lights. “He has tons of watches, and now that I’m thinking about it, he’s not a guy to wear bracelets. It’s… a challenge.”

The old man's face lit up, a raspy smoker's chuckle leaving his wrinkly lips. "Ja, I know how difficult it can be. What does that friend value? What does he like?" The man leaned against the counter, his wrinkly hand holding onto the sturdy wood, while the other one traveled to the pocket of his cardigan.

"Meaning, I think," I replied, my fingers tracing the edge of the polished wooden counter. "He has basically everything already, so it's difficult to find something. Not that he's hard to please. Not at all. I'm just very picky, even when it comes to gifts for other people."

"Meaning," the old man mused, his eyes scanning the shop's interior. "You mentioned he's a driver, right?" I nodded in confirmation. "How about something that combines his love for racing with a touch of nostalgia?"

I furrowed my brows, intrigued by his suggestion. "What do you suggest?"

The old man's eyes gleamed with excitement as he led me toward a large leather album, slightly bigger than A3 paper, resting on a wooden display stand. "I was a big motorsport fan back in the day," he began, his voice carrying the weight of cherished memories. "I even traveled to America to watch some good old NASCAR races. Fortunately, I had the opportunity to meet many drivers and collected a few things people find valuable now."

With his permission, I opened the album to reveal a treasure trove of race posters, each one meticulously preserved and adorned with signatures from drivers and team owners. The pages were filled with a rich tapestry of racing history from various series.

"Oh, are these race posters?" I asked in awe.

The old man nodded proudly. "They are all signed, by drivers and team owners, from a variety of racing series. Perhaps a poster from Le Mans from his birth year? Or... what does he drive? What does he enjoy?"

"Formula 1," I replied. And then I looked up to him. "Maybe a poster from the Spanish Grand Prix of '94, if it's available?"

The old man's eyes sparkled with recognition. "Ah, the Spanish Grand Prix of '94. That was a memorable one. I think it’s in there somewhere."

As I stepped out of the shop, the poster and a frame we picked after were inside a carton box, with a lot of tape around it. It would survive the flight, I hoped. I couldn't help but notice how picturesque Berlin looked that afternoon. The sun cast a warm golden hue on the architecture, turning even the most ordinary scenes into works of art. I adjusted my sunglasses, taking in the sights and sounds of the bustling city. Cobblestone streets wound through neighbourhoods that seemed to have their own stories to tell.

With each step, I felt a little more grounded, the rhythm of my strides syncing with the beat of the city. People passed by, their conversations forming a melodic backdrop. Laughter spilt out from sidewalk cafes, and the aroma of various cuisines filled the air.

Eva: “weird to think that i once thought germans were the prettiest europeans”

Marjorie: “a loooot of layers to debunk there”

Eva: “they were mostly football players and sebastian vettel. not that many layers.”

Marjorie: “vettel? wow, that’s soooo surprising” Marjorie: ”no one would EVER guess your taste in men”

Eva: “yeah? what’s my taste in men then?”

Marjorie: “former red bull athletes that raced/race for ferrari?” Marjorie: ”duh”

Eva: “you’re so annoying”

Marjorie: “did you get the gift?”

Eva: “yes”

Marjorie: “what did you get?”

Eva: “ill show you later”

Marjorie: “ok, now you can stop overthinking and focus on the handsome spaniard waiting for you and the amazing birthday sex he's in for”

Eva: "omg” Eva: "can’t believe you’re a MOM”

Helping Amanda at the store helped me more than I wanted to admit. I liked being busy. I needed to be busy. Spreadsheets and checklists were the perfect escape from the stress accumulating in my mind. I needed that, the sense of being in control. And if I felt like I was not totally controlling my career, still being discussed online, at least I could be in control of numbers and store openings.

"Last project as a team?" Amanda's voice reached me, her back turned as she meticulously arranged fake flowers in a jar. "I finally saw your interview last night. Full dedication to racing, starting next year."

I leaned against an unopened box, half my size, my fingers absentmindedly tracing patterns on the cardboard's surface. "Yeah, I've mentioned this to you before.” I took a break, using the seconds to take a breath. “I mean, I gave you like 70% of my clients."

She finally turned around, a plastic sunflower hanging from her fingers. "Yeah. I know. But I gotta admit, I half-expected you to stick around. Keep a client or two... Just in case."

A bead of sweat trickled down my back, my palms slightly sweaty as I wiped them against the cool fabric of my shorts.

"To be honest," I began, my gaze meeting hers. "No, I'm not entirely sure. But I don't think I ever will be. It just feels like something I need to do, you know? Stop doubting and take the leap."

She continued to observe me, her expression thoughtful. "And if it goes wrong?"

"Then I start over, just like I did a few years ago.” I settled onto an ottoman chair, taking a deep breath and picking my bottle of water from the side table. “Difference is: I have my own resources now. I have money. My money. I can travel, I can afford to try. I won't be relying on anyone else, this time."

"At all?" Her question carried a weight that made me frown. "I've seen the news. I've seen Twitter."

I rolled my eyes. "Ah, Twitter."

Her gaze remained steady on mine, unwavering. "So, are you two together or not?"

I sighed, a mixture of frustration and exasperation bubbling up. "Amanda, for once, I want to be my own person. To pursue my own dreams on my own terms." Stepping forward, I brushed my hands on my shorts, attempting to get rid of the sweat. "He's my friend, a really good one. But we’re talking work, not personal life."

She persisted, her tone unwavering. "Let's delve into the personal, then."

Turning away, I picked up a couple of the already empty cardboard boxes. "Honestly, I'd prefer if we didn't," I mumbled, carrying them towards the trash.

After ensuring Amanda wouldn't spontaneously combust from store-opening nerves, and after hearing her apologies for the intrusion, I bid farewell to Berlin. Every checklist and spreadsheet was printed and laminated, ready to be used for the inauguration. The gift boxes for the guests were carefully arranged on the counter and all the frames and backdrops for photos were set.

The airport buzzed with its customary end-of-August throng, yet, the line at security wasn’t so long.

As I dumped my belongings into the tray, the soft clinking of metal snagged my focus. My gaze drifted down, catching the glint of a tiny golden steering wheel illuminated by the airport's harsh lights.

A soft chuckle escaped my lips, swallowed by the surrounding crowd.

I’d been carrying it around since I’d left the track, half-drunk and drenched in champagne. I recalled being wearied by the day's events, too tipsy to recall the basics of Japanese and to walk in a straight line. I also remembered stumbling upon a souvenir stand near the track, my eyes fixating on those sparkling keychains. They had looked so delicate and golden, so artfully crafted that one might mistake them for actual gold if not for the 3000 yen price tag dangling from them—just shy of 20€.

Purchasing it had stirred up memories of our old tradition, those times when we'd strive to find the quirkiest gifts for each other. Snowglobes, magnets, postcards—each trinket carrying memories of the places we'd visited without each other.

"have fun at your dinner, soon to be birthday boy," I sent him a text as I settled into one of the seats by my gate.

Upon landing, a mirror selfie greeted me. There he was—a playful rogue, fresh out of the shower and sporting nothing but a strategically draped towel around his waist. A pout adorned his lips.

And as the caption: “i’ll try, but i’m feeling pretty lonely out here”

A one-shoulder black top draped over my frame, the asymmetrical neckline cutting the line of my chest. The wide linen pants I wore flowed gracefully with each of my steps, their relaxed fit exuding a laid-back vibe. My pants were cinched at the waist with a black leather belt, adding a subtle touch of edginess to the outfit. I reapplied my make-up in the Uber, after dropping my suitcases and the frame at the hotel lobby. Rio had arranged everything—a schedule so meticulously programmed that I couldn’t believe it was programmed by him.

I soon found myself standing outside the restaurant, my phone in hand as I dialled his number. Amsterdam was bursting with fans and tourists, nothing out of the ordinary for a night at the end of August, nearing the Grand Prix. Lost while observing the small crowds tracing the streets, I only noticed my brother’s familiar grin when he was close enough to trap me in a hug.

"Eva!" he held all the pride of the world in that hug.

"Hi," I laughed lightly. "Hey! I kinda need to breathe, you know?"

He released me with a sheepish grin, eyes sparkling with affection. He kissed my cheek before taking a step back. "Sorry, I’ve been saving this hug for a while now. And wow… The lipstick. Suits you.”

I put my hand on his chest, over the buttons of his dark green polo. “You're not looking too shabby yourself.”

His laughter echoed, genuine and carefree, as he linked his arm with mine. “Well, I do try to keep up appearances once or twice a year.”

“For birthdays and Christmas?”

“Yeah. Something like it.”

We strolled into the restaurant together. The anticipation of the evening hung in the air, tugging in my belly. God, what’s this feeling?

“What did you tell them?”

“Oh, you know—” Rio scratched the back of his neck. “Something about needing to take a call?”

I burst into laughter. "You literally managed to secretly arrange a flight and extra hotel room but couldn't come up with a more believable excuse for this?"

Rio joined in my laughter. "Hey, it worked! No one asked too many questions."

"Fair enough. Where’s the table?”

“At the back,” he pointed at an arch in the brick wall of the restaurant. “Have you spoken to Dad?”

“Not tonight, Rio,” I replied, pausing for a moment and turning slightly to face him. “Can we talk about all that tomorrow? It’s been a lot. I just want to eat something decent, rather, drink something decent and have a good time.”

He kissed my cheek. “Sure. I’m proud of you. Just remember that.”

Carlos was seated facing the archway, and my gaze was drawn to him the instant Rio and I stepped through it. It took Carlos a brief moment longer to register our presence. He was engrossed in conversation, his brows knit together as he spoke animatedly, his hands dancing with fervour as he talked. The room seemed to grow silent as my eyes focused on him. Then, as if pulled by an invisible force, his gaze met mine.

And the world went completely silent.

His lips curved into a smile that transformed his features, smoothing away any tension. He seemed to be filled with light and I felt so weightless, I felt I could have floated through the air like a feather—it wasn't the sensation of falling for him; or falling for each other, but rather the exhilarating feeling of ascending together, drawn irresistibly toward each other's orbit.

And I felt at ease.

Rio playfully tugged at my arm, drawing me further into the restaurant. "He's so ridiculously in love," he teased with a knowing grin, watching his best friend, already getting up from his chair.

A wistful smile touched my lips, my heart echoing with silent questions. The words hung unspoken in the air, a gentle whisper carried by the currents of emotion that flowed between us.

It was warm and cold at the same time. Too much happening and nothing at all.

“Fuck off,” I whispered. My brother just laughed.

My steps quickened with each heartbeat, a subtle urgency pushing me forward, almost outpacing my brother’s pace. I had to consciously force myself to walk slowly and not betray my haste to reach the table. All the way, my eyes didn’t leave Carlos, already on his feet, his hand resting casually on the back of his char. Effortless attire—whitewashed jeans and a simple T-shirt. His hair was a charming mess, tempting me to run my fingers through the tousled strands.

Around the table, faces were beginning to light up with recognition and surprise, the gathering of friends and acquaintances slowly rising to greet us. I waved at them, “Hi! Good night,” and a soft giggle bubbled from my lips as I caught the shared amusement on Carlos' friends' faces.

“Hey,” Carlos said.

As he leaned in to press a warm kiss to my cheek, the familiarity of his touch ignited a sense of comfort. He smelled nice. His hands found their way around me, wrapping me in a hug that felt both familiar and intoxicatingly new. I reciprocated the embrace, savouring the closeness while maintaining an air of casualness as if this were an ordinary occurrence.

“You’re here.” He whispered, the small sound cutting through the noise echoing in the room.

“I am,” I murmured softly, my voice carrying a warmth that was reserved for him alone. “Hi.”

“Hi.” Carlos chuckled, his breath tickling my ear as he pulled away. "What are you doing here? You must be exhausted."

"Just a little jet-lagged," I admitted with a sheepish smile, the exhaustion momentarily forgotten in his presence. “Nothing a good night of sleep and some Red Bull tomorrow won’t solve.”

"Red Bull, huh? Giving the opponents some business, are we?" Caco playfully remarked, dragging his chair to the side, to create space to add another seat to the table.

I chuckled, playing along. "Well, a little cross-team support never hurt anyone, right?"

"Alright, everyone," Rio's voice cut through our moment; by his side, two waitresses, one of them carrying a chair and the other one a set of plates and a glass. "We need another seat here, please." He motioned to the place between his and Carlos’ seats. “And bring back the menu, please, so she can pick something to eat.”

“Thank you,” I whispered, short moments after, taking my seat. “And I’ll just have some carbonara. No need for the menu.”

“Welcome back, Eva,” Caco said, before picking up the bottle of wine and filling my glass. “We missed you around here.”

The night was alive with energy, laughter, and the warmth of connection.

It felt nice to be back in the midst of a Team 55 dinner, just like it used to happen years ago when Carlos still wore yellow or orange and we were too blind to actually read through the lines. The familiarity of faces, the shared jokes and the easy camaraderie were a comforting reminder of the bonds that had formed over time, and that he was in good hands those last years.

It had been three years since the last Grand Prix I attended by Carlos' side. He was a man, now. A Grand Prix race winner. A Ferrari driver. He wore red, burning red. The Italian anthem had played for him. Not many had that honour.

The low hum of conversation blended seamlessly with the clinking of glasses and the occasional bursts of laughter. I let myself observe the group, the connection between them all, the aura around the table. It was like stepping into the past and finding home, once again.

As the clock neared midnight, Rio leaned in with a sly smile. "I think it's time for some champagne, don't you think?"

“Oh, no, I—We have work tomorrow,” Carlos’ voice was interrupted by a chorus of boos that echoed around the table. From the archway, a waitress appeared with a tray of mini burgers adorned with candles in her hands. “Oh, you didn’t!”

His laughter blended perfectly with the melody of “Happy Birthday” being echoed from everyone in the room, not only from our table but from the other ones, too. I focused my eyes on him, only to find out he was already looking at me, grin wide and eyes glistening.

“Mate, you’re getting old!” Rupert exclaimed before hugging him. “Speech!!" He called out, his strong British accent ringing through the cheers and applause, raising his glass and prompting others to follow suit.

“No, no!” Carlos shook his head, a playful protest on his lips, as the chant grew in volume. "Oh, come on, guys."

“Stop being a chicken, mate. Come on,” my brother whispered.

With a good-natured sigh, Carlos finally stood up, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. He surveyed the faces around the table, and then around the room, his gaze lingering on each person before settling on me, his eyes warm and sincere.

"Alright, alright," he began, moving his hands in an attempt to hush the commotion around him. "Well, uh… Another one, right? 28!” The room grew quiet, the attention of every person fixed on Carlos as he spoke from the heart. One of the waiters passed him a flute filled with champagne. He took it in his hands and nodded, before whispering a thank you. "Birthdays have always been a time of reflection for me. A time to look back on the journey, the ups and downs and whatnot, and, of course, the people who have been by my side through it all. These guys right here.” He pointed to the table with the flute. “And I can honestly say that I am so incredibly lucky to have each and every one of you with me." He raised his glass and everyone mirrored his gesture, a sense of camaraderie filling the air. "To the team, to friendship, and to the memories we've created and the ones we're yet to make."

As the glasses clinked together in a toast, the atmosphere was charged with emotion and shared celebration. Carlos took a moment to catch my gaze, a twinkle in his eyes as he added, "And to Eva, who has been a constant source of support and inspiration. Here's to you, to your podium at WEC, and to many more victories."

I felt my cheeks burning and I tried to conceal my smile by having a sip of the champagne.

“To Eva!” My brother exclaimed, his glass raised in the air, prompting the others to follow.

“To Eva!” The room chanted, as Carlos approached me and planted a kiss on my cheek.

“I’m so proud of you.” He whispered.

“I hate you,” I whispered. “Thank you.”

The combination of jetlag, wine, champagne and the events of the night had left me feeling simultaneously exhilarated and tired. As we walked back, the city lights casting a soft glow around us, I leaned into Carlos, my head resting against his shoulder. He wrapped an arm around me.

“Tired?” he inquired, his voice a gentle caress against the night breeze.

I nodded against his shoulder, my gaze trailing to the figures of our friends walking ahead of us. “And a bit tipsy, I think. The day just went by so quickly.”

A soft chuckle escaped him, his fingers brushing against my arm in a soothing gesture. With a warmth that seeped into my skin, he said, “We’re almost there. 10 minutes and you'll be in bed.”

“No rush, really. I still need to give you your gift and get ready for bed. Lot more than 10 minutes.”

“Okay, then…” He pondered. I looked up, noticing the way his brow furrowed playfully. A small chuckle left my lips. “Let’s say… 40, then.”

“Ugh,” I unfed, wrapping my arm around his waist, under his leather jacket. “That’s a lot of time for someone who slept like… 5 hours today.”

“You needed to rest,” his voice had that tone of concern I was not yet quite used to hearing. “Rest. Not add another fight to the list.”

“And I will rest this weekend. Just hope your driver’s room has a good couch.”

His laughter resonated in the air, the sound a welcome companion in the quiet of the night. “The best in the Ferrari hospitality.”

“I’m in good hands, then.”

We walked in silence for a little while, casually observing the surroundings. Everyone was just too busy living their lives to notice or to care he was there. It was a 5-minute walk from the restaurant to the hotel, our friends had already disappeared from view when we entered through a side door, free from the small crowd that could potentially be waiting at the main entrance.

“How was Japan?” He asked when we were racing the elevators.

I smiled, my head turning from the closed doors to his face. “Wild.” The memories of the race weekend flooded my thoughts. A chuckle escaped me as I recalled some of them. “Insane, really… I mean... The Challenge was great, and everything. But this was serious, you know? Like… WEC is serious. People saw me there. Saw what I did, you know?” He nodded, a smile playing on his lips. “And this might sound super cocky, but… it was amazing.”

“Oh, you bet the world saw you. Your name rang in the paddock the whole day. And that interview you did with Anderson?”

“What about it?”

“I’m just jealous. I never looked that good on camera,” he teased, his eyes glinting with playful mischief. I laughed and followed the ping of the elevator, that now opened its doors to us. With his back turned to me, while he pressed one of the buttons, he questioned, “Am I one of those people?” Then, he turned back to me, a smug smile in his mouth. “The ones you mentioned. Do I inspire you?”

The corner of my lips lifted in a playful grin. “Do you really need to ask?" I watched as he shrugged, a nonchalant expression on his face. I rolled my eyes, “Well, you know… every time I see your face on TV, I think, ‘Wow, I have to learn something from that guy’.”

His laughter rang out, a sound that was as comforting as it was infectious. “That’s it? My handsome face is just a reminder to work harder?”

I matched his playful tone. “Well, either that or the fear of becoming the least interesting person on TV.” As he leaned against the wall, his body language inviting me closer, I complied without hesitation. I stepped into his space, still at a distance. ”I’ll let you pick whichever makes you feel better.”

He rolled his eyes before his gaze locked onto mine, a whole different haze around those orbs. The quiet hum of the elevator seemed to fade into the background, leaving only the two of us in our own world. His index finger hooked on the belt hoop of my pants, a subtle gesture that pulled me toward him. His voice, soft yet filled with longing, wrapped around me like a velvet ribbon.

“I miss you,” he confessed. “I was dying for a moment alone with you.”

“I’m all yours, now.”

His lopsided grin transformed into a mischievous smirk as he closed the distance between us. A pair of tender, delicate lips met mine, and I could feel the hint of his smile as I melted into his embrace, a contented sigh escaping my lips.

I lost myself in him, in the touch of his hands touching me everywhere, reclaiming my body and pressing me against him. The urgency grew. My fingers instinctively curled around the leather of his jacket, pulling him closer with a determined grip. His hands ventured to my lower back, drawing me nearer. We could have transcended into another dimension.

As the elevator doors finally opened on his floor, we reluctantly pulled away from each other, our lips lingering for a moment before breaking apart. The hunger in his gaze mirrored my own. With a silent understanding, we rushed through the hallway—stupid teenagers in a rom-com.

I felt the weight of the door click shut behind us as he pushed me against it, his lips already on my neck. Our perfumes mixed together, a scent already familiar, yet to which I had no resistance. I felt drunk on it. His hands left my waist to pull my top down and reveal my bare skin beneath. There was urgency in his touch, in his eyes, in the way he exhaled when he took a step back and took me in.

Under his eyes, goosebumps ran across my chest. Thingles shot up from my nipples.

Carlos ran his thumb over one of them, eyes studying the rose buds, his tongue peering between his lips. “No bra?” He teased, his eyes glinting.

“Though I might save us some time,” I whispered back.

“I like the way you think,” he replied with a low growl. The warmth of his breath touched my skin, making me shiver uncontrollably before his lips reached my breast.

To that, I would never get used. The velvet touch of his tongue, the particular way his lips seem to perfectly fit each crevice of my body. My hands came up to his hair, tangling myself in the silky locks as he suckled on my nipple, his tongue flicking over the hardened peak. I gasped, my head falling backwards.

Electricity shot through my body, pooling between my legs.

“I want to do something for you, today," I said.

He cocked an eyebrow at me, his eyes darkening with desire. "What?" The husky timbre of his voice sent a chill down my spine, as he undid the belt of my pants. From then, to the moment they fell on the floor, was a couple of seconds.

I descended from my heels and guided him to bed, where he sat at the edge. Then sat down, gently, on his lap, my legs spreading naturally. Slightly hesitating, he reached out, and glided his palm over my back and my ass, before tracing a path down the back of my thighs. With a more urgent touch, his fingertips burning in curiosity and anticipation, he continued until his hand reached the back of my knees and with a strong motion, pulled me nearer to him. Fuck. I quivered in his lap, a broken moan escaping my lips.

He smiled. "You like that?"

I nodded, biting my lip as I felt the heat in his eyes. Tentatively, I placed my hands on his shoulders and moved again, shamelessly grinding against his jeans. Again, a low, husky moan left my mouth and his fingers dug into my ass. He was completely dressed and I was soaking through my panties.

Cupping my face in his hands, he brought his mouth back to mine. Fierce and wet. Possessive and savage. I moaned against his mouth as his hands came up to my breasts, kneading them as I rode him harder. His touch was overwhelming, and I could feel myself getting close to the edge.

"No. Wait. I—” My hand rested on his chest. “You’re making me lose focus."

My chin was locked between his fingers, as he held my face close.

"Hm?" He groaned against my mouth. "On what, baby?"

"On you," I said, between breaths, my voice almost breaking. I forced myself to stop moving, even when I felt every inch of my body under a spell. My clit was throbbing, crying for attention. "Your shirt," I commanded, and in seconds, it was flying to the floor.

The cool floor stimulated my heated skin, as I knelt in front of him. My eyes couldn't leave his face—the strands falling over his forehead, his slightly flushed cheeks, his swollen lips. I reached out, my fingers deftly working on his belt buckle, my every movement deliberate and tantalizing. Dark orbs stared at me from behind sleep-tousled eyes, desire taking them whole. Unzipping him, I let the jeans fall to his feet before touching him over his white Calvin Kleins. I could feel my mouth watering at the imprint of his erection on the fabric.

Looking up again, there was a grin on his lips.

His thumb gently traced the contour of my bottom lip, urging it to part. Without hesitation, I complied, welcoming his finger into my mouth. My lips closed around it, gently sucking as my hands explored him through the fabric of his boxers. His response was immediate; he bit his lower lip, a guttural groan escaping as I slid the elastic waistband down, releasing him into the open.

Carlos pulled himself up in bed, pulling off his boxers on his way. His eyes wandered briefly to a spot just beyond me, a mischievous smile playing on his lips.

"Panties off, baby," he commanded. With ease, he positioned himself at the centre of the bed, his legs parted invitingly.

Glancing swiftly behind me, my eyes landed on a mirror. Without hesitation, I followed his command, sliding my panties down, ensuring my reflection in the mirror granted him the view he deserved. Then, I gracefully crawled towards him, positioning myself between his legs with my knees slightly apart, my ass elevated in the air.

His cock rested against my lips. I moved in, sucking gently, as I looked up. He didn’t know where to look: his eyes flickered from the mirror down to my face to the mirror again. I moved my tongue up and down his shaft and then he finally looked away from the mirror and at me.

"You're beautiful," he breathed, his voice low and throaty. I blinked up at him, confused by his words. "So beautiful," he repeated. "The way you're looking at me, the way you're sucking me off. It's fucking beautiful."

I blushed, feeling shy and exposed under his gaze. I loved the way he looked at me, with such certainty and admiration. I loved that he saw me as something beautiful. Something worth saving. I parted my lips and slid my mouth around his shaft then pulled back, taking him as slowly as I could. He tilted his head and cried out, the vibration of his voice sending a shock of heat into my core.

I smiled up at him as I shifted, angling him so he was hitting the back of my throat.

"You like this?" He asked, a grin spreading across his face. I nodded, my head moving faster. "You're going to make me come in your mouth, aren't you?" I nodded again, my eyes locked onto his. His voice was low and commanding, his grip tight in my hair. I moaned around him, pleasure radiating through me as I felt him pulsating in my mouth.

My tights moved in the air, my pussy pulsating, crying for attention.

"Baby," he called. I looked up. "Touch yourself. But don't stop. You're doing so well."

I couldn't focus on anything else but what he was telling me to do. I reached down, feeling my wetness seep through my fingers. A moan slipped past my lips as I started stroking myself, faster and faster. My clit was throbbing, begging for attention. I glanced at Carlos, watching him struggle to keep control. He looked so strained, his body tense, his torso glistening with tiny droplets of sweat. He looked so fucking good.

"You're going to make me come, baby." He groaned, thrusting deeper into my mouth. I increased the speed of my movements, my head bobbing up and down on his shaft. I could feel him getting closer, the pulse in his cock growing faster and faster.

He came quickly, his cum filling my mouth and down my throat. I swallowed, my stomach muscles contracting as I drank down every last drop. He released my hair and lay in bed, his breathing erratic. "Come here."

"He—Where?"

"Here," he said like it was obvious. "Sit on my face."

For a second, I hesitated. But then he looked at me, his eyebrow pointing up, his tongue wandering between his lips and God, how, better, why would I say no? I complied, sinking down on top of him. His hands came up to my ass, spreading me open as he took my aching pussy into his mouth. And that was another thing I could never get used to. I gasped, my hands coming down to grip his hair, now tousled and sweaty. His tongue was wet and velvety as it flicked over my clit. I ground against him, my breathing becoming ragged.

"Come for me, baby," he murmured. He was a starved man. I was his precious meal. And how good it felt to me worshipped like that. "Come on my fucking tongue."

My body shook as I came hard, my pussy clenching tightly around his tongue. He kept going, licking and sucking until I was crying out in sheer ecstasy, my hands gripping the headrest, my knuckles turning white as the sensations overwhelmed me.

I lay sprawled on the bed, my legs still jerking, tingling with aftershocks of delight, my naked form glistening with a light sheen of sweat, utterly spent and exhilarated.

Carlos approached me, his nose touching mine, making me smile. “You were so good,” he whispered just before he pressed a slow, tender kiss against my lips. My mouth parted in anticipation of his, like always. My eyes drifted closed as I kissed him back.

“Happy birthday,” I said with drunken delight.

A small humm from him was the only response I got until I felt his hands pulling me to him, holding me close to his chest. A kiss on the forehead followed that, then another, this time on the top of my head.

His hands were warm where they trailed down my back.

And then I drifted to sleep.

There was a strange weight over my belly.

A warm stream of air against my skin, rhythmically kissing my ribs. The room was dark and warm, and my head hurt. A few morning sun rays seeped through the binds, wrapping the room in a warm yet slow yellow tint. I tried to move my leg, but it was wrapped in another body. And a smile emerged on my lips.

Slowly, I stretched my hand, the touch of his hair sending shivers down my spine. Heat flushed through me when my sleepy gaze fell on him. His back rose up in perfect curves, taut muscles rolling along his spine with every breath, like waves coming ashore. My tan glowed under his brown hair, which fell in soft strands against my chest. The curve of his torso disappeared at his waist, revealing a small hollow where he had curled up against me as if he belonged there—as if that moment was what life was all about.

Hearts beating so slowly.

A silence so full of a promise of peace and security in the uncertainty.

The previous days had been so full, so messy, so… scary.

And I was never a fan of sleeping like this, especially in the summer, but if it meant to wake up to that view, my mind could change.

I blinked awake, feeling disoriented and confused. Memories from last night swirled around in my head, jumbled and hazy, until my mind slowly pieced together what happened. A long dinner, a lot of wine. Messy kisses on the elevator, even messier in bed. Slowly, the memories coalesced into a coherent whole, and I realized that I was in Carlos' hotel room, our bodies naked and intertwined. I could feel the sheets beneath me, the weight of his body against me, the scent of sex and him, in an intoxicating mixture, pulling me back to sleep.

Silence stretched around.

The sound of his breath evened out, deep asleep.

It was hot, and the logical part of my mind urged me to get up, take a shower and remind Carlos of his commitments, but against reason, I resisted the urge. Instead, I lay there, gently tracing the short waves of his hair and basking in the sight of him peacefully sleeping on my chest.

And perhaps that is what life is all about, after all.

Our intimacy reverberated in the depths of that silence that didn’t need to be fulfilled. Felt right. The weight of his body shifted, relieving mine from the warmth and when my eyes met his, he was looking up at me, a soft lazy curve on his lips.

“You’re awake,” he murmured at some point, his voice barely audible.

“I am.”

Carlos leaned in, and our lips met in a slow, languid kiss. Each brush of our lips, a moment of pure vulnerability and adoration. The brush of his fingers on my cheeks, our legs intertwined, our bodies finding comfort against each other. Wafting through the atmosphere, the deep understanding that there was no better place we could be.

“You have to go get ready.”

Carlos hummed against my jawline, his fingers tracing lazy circles on my bare skin. "I set an alarm," he murmured, his warm breath sending shivers down my spine. “Why you’re up so early? It’s like…” He stretched his arm to check the time on the nightstand. “6.30.”

“Time doesn’t make sense,” I hummed, a tired smile on my face. He chuckled softy. My fingers danced across his skin, the warmth and softness of it inviting my touch. They came to a rest at the nape of his neck, where delicate strands of hair brushed against my fingertips, silently urging me to thread them between my fingers. “And someone was crushing me.”

Carlos nuzzled closer, a playful smile gracing his lips. "I plead innocent. It's not my fault if you turned out to be irresistibly cuddly."

Feigning mock indignation, I swatted his arm gently. “Excuse me? Turned out? ”

His laughter bubbled forth, warm and rich, filling the room with its infectious energy. He then rolled to his side, and as my eyes fell on his barely disturbed pillow, I pondered whether we had drifted off like that or if he had moved during the night. Adjusting my position, I turned to face him.

“It’s quite nice to wake up like this, you know?” I admitted with a soft smile, my gaze locked onto his. Carlos’ chuckle danced in the air, playful and affectionate.

“Now… Excuse me! Actually nice? Were you doubting it?” he teased, a playful glint in his eyes that mirrored the lightness of our banter. “Have you seen me?”

“Oh, yes. I have.”

“So, why is it actually nice?”

“Because I thought it would be different. That I wouldn’t be so comfortable to be naked in bed with you. I mean, I saw you eat worms as a child—” A giggle left my lips. “And now I let those same lips kiss me.”

“Oh, baby, you let them do so much more. I can still taste you,” he said with a smirk, his hand travelling down to my ass and pushing me to him.

A soft laughter escaped my lips, a mixture of surprise and amusement. Carlos' playful response was exactly what I had come to expect from him. "Oh, now we're getting cheeky, are we?"

His smirk deepened, his fingers tracing a teasing pattern along the back of my thigh. My leg was now wrapped around his. "Well, you know me."

I shifted closer to him, my fingers tracing lazy circles on his chest. "You're incorrigible."

The air between us was light, infused with a sense of ease that came so naturally when we were together. It was moments like these that I cherished the most—the unfiltered exchanges, the unspoken understanding, the unbreakable connection. His fingers traced patterns in my skin, mine stood still in his chest, the beating of his heart under my digits—a language of touch and glances that we had grown accustomed to without even noticing. The warmth of his body against mine, the intimacy of our shared space—it all felt so right, so beautifully intimate.

Carlos propped himself up on his elbow, his gaze tender yet searching. "You know, for what it's worth,” he began.

“Yes?”

“Waking up next to you feels... right," he admitted, his tone softening, his gaze holding mine. And then, as a contemplative expression crossed his features, he shifted his gaze to the window. "You know, I never expected this,” his voice tinged with a mixture of wonder and vulnerability. "I never thought we would ever fall on the same page. Either because I thought I didn’t deserve to be seen this way by you or because… I don’t know. I was so afraid of fucking up and losing you…"

His words settled like a gentle wave, each syllable a touch on my soul. The rawness in his voice stirred something within me, a connection that seemed to reach beyond words. His touch was warm on my skin, his words so low and his voice so rough, the timbre a caress that sorted through the depths of my emotions. I laid back in bed, my hands resting over my belly, in the spot where he had been asleep moments before. It was still warm.

"I couldn’t stop thinking about losing you. Until I did. And then I couldn’t stop dreaming about having you back. And then I saw you in the garage, at Mugello, and… it all came back, you know?” His eyes dropped to my chest, and then to my eyes. “The fear of letting you go," he confessed softly, his gaze unwavering.

The vulnerability in his words was a mirror to my own heart, an echo of the fears and doubts that had once haunted both of us. It almost felt too much.

"But then… The second you allowed me to get close enough, to look at you and truly see you…” He stretched his fingers and let his hand find the skin of my chest. Over my stern, he let his index wander, from my neck to my hands. “To feel you… This is not about losing. Is it?”

“It is not,” I replied, a small smile curving my lips.

His hand wandered to my side, his thumb tracing a gentle path over my breast. I looked down, admiring the way my body reacted to him—eager shivers, a symphony of sensations awakening in its trail. With every touch, it felt like being discovered anew. Each time he touched me, it felt like being touched for the very first time all over again.

“You have no idea how much I understand that,” I murmured, lifting my head from the pillow, my lips seeking his. He met me halfway, his head tilting to close the distance between us.

So mellow and slow. Warm and comforting. And lazy. Our kisses unfolded in unhurried movements, a languid exploration of each other's emotions. Time seemed to stretch and bend, because in that space, within the circle of his arms, we could afford to be lazy. Outside, the world was put on hold.

Carlos moved to hover over me, his frame settling in between my legs, shielding me from the sunlight rays seeping through the curtains. It was all him. And the lines of his stupidly handsome body and face, enhanced by the light hitting his back.

“I have a question,” I said, looking up at him.

The corner of his lips tugged up in a smirk, as he lowered himself to kiss my chin. “Not now, baby.”

“Yes, now, baby.”

He looked up. The lines of his face were disguised in the dark room. “I really would like to start this day inside you.” He ran his hand on my side, stopping at the back of my leg and guiding it around his waist. “Can we do that?”

“But that won’t answer my question.”

“That will make me very very very happy.” He kissed my chin, again. And then my cheek, my jaw, just below my ear. I exhaled, a stupid smile on my lips. Yeah, I had no chance against his tactics. My fingers moved on his biceps, tautening under my touch as he pressed his waist against me. “Can you feel how happy you make me?” he asked, his voice low and velvet smooth.

"Hmhm," I acknowledged. And he did it again, eyes locked on mine. A small moan escaped between my pressed lips and he chuckled, amused.

I shut my eyes as he moved his hips again, this time sliding against my slick folds. So close, yet so agonizing far. I could feel my own desire and the knowledge of it made my blood boil in my veins. I wanted him more than anything, and my body needed him just the same.

"Carlos," I begged, arching my back as he teased me mercilessly. "Please."

He chuckled softly, pushing himself up a little so that his lips could find mine. "Please what?" he asked, his voice a soft tease.

Make love to me. The words erupted from a very hidden corner of my mind, still lost in sleep and trapped in the fabric of dreams.

"Please," I repeated, this time a little louder. "I need you."

"I can see that," he replied, his voice low and serious. I opened my eyes to find him looking down, guiding his cock with one hand and using the other to move some strands of hair away from his face. "How are you so wet already, baby?"

How couldn’t I be?

I couldn't answer. All I could do was whimper as he teased me again, his tip sliding all the way through my slit, poking the entrance.

"You like being teased, don't you?" he asked, his voice low and sinful. "You like it so much that it’s a shame I can’t spend the whole day making you go crazy with it."

"Yes," I gasped, arching my back to get closer to him. He circled the entrance and I pressed my feet to the mattress, my head going back to the pillow as my body ached for him. "Please, Carlos."

"Okay, baby. I'm here," he said lowly, his voice a throaty whisper. He kissed me again, slowly but deeply. His tongue brushed against mine, my lips trapped between his teeth. "I'll make love to you."

The words were like a balm to my achy heart, a balm that soothed and healed. Carlos eased himself in slowly, a slow, torturous movement that made my entire body cry for him. And then out. Even more slowly. My hands moved to his shoulders, and then to his hair, urging him back. And when he was finally inside me again, I let out a long, trembling breath.

The slick, wet heat of us was heaven. His movements were slow and deliberate, a delicious torture that made me writhe uncontrollably beneath him.

"Austria," he breathed, his head hovering above mine as he moved his hips against me, burying himself deeper inside. I opened my eyes, meeting his intense gaze. "That's what made me go to Mugello."

A moan escaped my lips as he pushed even further, my back arching in response to the pleasure coursing through me. His eyes, filled with a burning desire, remained locked onto mine. "How? Why?" I managed to ask, my voice trembling with need.

"The fire," he confessed, his movements deliberate and sensual. His fingers slid through mine, our hands intertwining as he raised them above my head and thrust into me once more, the sensation more intense than before. "I didn't think about dying or getting hurt. All I could think about was you.” He moaned lowly, a fucking melody in my ears. “Your voice in my head."

I furrowed my brow, his words slowly registering in my desire-clouded mind. Sensations of pleasure and love pulsed through me as he continued to move, his gaze never leaving mine. He was taking his time, savouring every moment of our connection.

“Me?”

His grip on my fingers got stronger. “You.”

And then, in my cloudy mind, in the midst of all things I was feeling and desiring, the endless goodbyes we exchanged. His cologne mixed with rubber and oil, the sound of engines and rattle guns. The hugs at the airport, at home, before leaving and after arriving.

"Go race but don't die in there," I whispered, the words escaping my lips like a fervent prayer. He cracked a small, affectionate smile.

"Exactly that," he murmured against my lips. "And then, for a fraction of a second, I thought of dying. And how I wouldn't see you ever again."

I swallowed hard, the ache in my chest intensifying. My feelings seemed bigger than myself.

"I want to be with you."

Carlos's face softened at my words. "I want that, too, baby," he whispered, his voice full of love and tenderness, his chest pressing against mine as he caught my lips in a slow kiss, burying himself inside me once more.

And then he was moving faster, harder, and I was lost, lost in the waves of pleasure crashing over me and the idea of how I had found home. I was falling. No safety net, yet the wind in my face was greater than any safety I had ever known.

Minutes after climax, both of us still lost in post-sex bliss and in each other, Carlos’ alarm rang on the nightstand. The room was now more brightly lit, but our bodies were still languid and sated, lost in the cocoon of our intimate connection. I couldn't help but roll my eyes at the strident symphony of the alarm.

"Think I've got time for a quick nap?" I inquired with a playful raise of my eyebrow.

Carlos let out a soft chuckle as he silenced the alarm. "You can sleep while I hit the shower," he suggested, his voice still husky. "And then you'll need to get up and start getting ready, or else we’ll be late."

Feeling the weight of exhaustion creeping in, I sighed deeply while sitting up in bed. I looked around. Last night was still a confusing puzzle in my mind. And then, it all came to clarity. "Fuck!" I exclaimed, suddenly realizing, "Rio has my key card."

"Why—How did that happen?"

"What do you mean, 'how'? He did the check-in, and I just dropped my bags here at the hotel and ran to the restaurant. I—Fuck. This is on you," I threw him a pillow.

Despite my efforts, he caught it quite easily. “How is this my fault?”

“You… seduced me in the elevator,” he laughed at my words, taking a hand to his belly.

Getting up, he threw me the pillow and walked to the closet, taking a robe out of there. To be honest, half my worries disappeared while he walked naked through the room, the view being distraction enough.

"Well,” he passed me the robe. “Rio's room is just across the hall. You can pop over there, grab the key card, and sort your stuff out. I can even go for you, if you want."

My anxiety spiked at the thought of such a direct confrontation. "You want me to just knock on my brother's door and say, 'Hi, I just spent the night with your best friend. Nice night overall, but now I need my stuff to get ready.’?"

Carlos pondered the situation for a moment before responding. “Yes.”

With a sigh and a reluctant nod, I accepted the robe. I wrapped it around me, the rush of nerves tugging around at the same time. Talking to my brother about last night wasn't something I was eager to do. If there was something good about having him moving soon out of the house, was the fact that never, in my whole life, had he encountered a guy leaving my room. But there was no avoiding it now, was it?

"Alright," I muttered, summoning my resolve. "I'll go get the key card and then I’ll get ready. We meet at breakfast. But if this turns into an awkward family moment, I'm blaming you."

Carlos chuckled, his voice a soothing balm to my frazzled nerves. "I'll take full responsibility.” He picked up the second robe and dressed it. “It's not the end of the world, Eva. He’s done worse."

I gave him a wry smile, appreciating his attempt to ease my tension. "Easy for you to say," I quipped, heading towards the door.

I mustered up the courage to walk across the hall and knock on Rio's door. Barefoot and with my hair tied in a terrible bun. It didn't take long before my brother answered, and the smirk on his face was undeniable.

"Eva, my dear sister," he said, his tone teasing. "Can’t say I wasn’t waiting for you."

"Cut it out, Fabrizio,” I moved in my feet. “Can I just get my key card?”

He feigned innocence. "Key card?”

“Come on, I need to go get ready.”

He raised an eyebrow, still grinning. "Oh, I'm sure you do.”

“Rio, I swear to God—” he interrupted me with a laugh while taking a step back and opening the door. My bags rested against his closet. I frowned. “How? Why?”

Rio's laughter rang through the room as I walked in to retrieve my bags. He leaned against the door frame, still chuckling. "Well, sis," he began, a mischievous glint in his eyes, "I figured, why waste the money on a separate room for you when I knew you'd end up there anyway? Plus, it's been ages since I had a chance to tease you properly."

I shook my head in disbelief, simultaneously amused and annoyed by his antics. "I should've known you'd pull something like this."

He gave me an unapologetic grin. "What can I say? It's in my big brother's job description to embarrass you whenever possible.”

I rolled my eyes, but a fond smile tugged at the corners of my lips. "Alright, alright," I relented, grabbing my suitcase, purse and Carlos’ gift. "I'll see you at breakfast. And for the record, Carlos is a way better roommate than you."

Rio laughed heartily, waving me off as I headed back to Carlos' room. As I closed the door behind me, I couldn't help but shake my head at my brother's antics. On the other side of the hall, the door was closed. I knocked, hoping Carlos hadn’t yet stepped into the shower.

When he opened the door, his face broke into a grin, which quickly escalated into hearty laughter. “Guess it’s a sleepover, now,” I said.

He shrugged. “Good thing we get along well.”

I'll review the chapter again in a day or two, so I'm sorry if there are a few typos, but I just finished it. Happy birthday, Carlito. Hope Monza is good for him, this weekend. post weekend edit: MONZA WAS GOOD FOR HIM, IM CRYING HAPPY TEARS taglist: @alesainz @juliantheupsidedown @dreamsarebig (i forgot to tag people when i posted the chapter because i was just so nervous about posting this (we love anxiety) so sorry, but ill try to not forget next time) thank you all for the messages and the replies and especially the reblogs! i love you all SO much. thank you so much for the support. Hope you all enjoyed the chapter. See you around. All the love, Bru 🤍

#Tightrope #carlos sainz x you #carlos sainz x reader #carlos sainz smut #carlos sainz imagine #carlos sainz fanfic #f1 x you #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 one shot #fanf1ction #f1 fanfic #driver x you #f1 driver x you #f1 driver x reader #driver x reader #carlos sainz fluff #carlos sainz jr #carlos sainz angst

431 notes · View notes

sweet-fading-summer-love · 4 months

Text

Veils & Vows

Summary - You partake in wedding reception pleasantries while your groom, Elvis takes care of a few business matters. Only when the two of you are back in your hotel room do you get him all to yourself.

Warnings - wedding night sex, oral (f. receiving), p in v, fingering, no protection, smut, missionary sex, mentions of crime/crime family dealings, swearing

WC - 4.4k

Author's Note - I found this photo as I haven't been able to get Elvis off my mind as of late and I had watched Goodfellas last night so the thought came to mind, what if I wrote Elvis in a Goodfellas-esque au, aka a mobster au. That's how this came about. I've got almost 20k of this written already so I figure I post it in a few parts, and make it into a short series.

The Prologue

As a pair of familiar rough hands cupped your cheeks in a warm enveloping kiss, the rowdy applause of your family and friends filled the huge rented ballroom. The reception had started off on a sweet little note as Elvis' toast was made primarily to honor you, but also to honor some of the bigshots and higher-ups in the family who had been gracious enough to attend.

You knew the claps were primarily pointed toward the important men in your family and in Elvis' entourage but that didn't bother you too much. Your crowd was a close one, so close that even a day that was supposed to be yours, had to be divided up nicely to keep everyone happy. That's how it had always been.

Elvis' hand on your hip pulled your body closer to his as he pressed a few nibble-like kisses along your cheek. As he pulled back he stared at you with a small smile, his eyebrows lifted a tinge as his eyes were widened enough to get a real good look at his bride.

"Baby, I gotta go talk with some of the guys, so wait here f'me?"

Just as you had to share the attention on your wedding day, you had to share Elvis as well. But you didn't mind, you couldn't. Whatever Elvis did, it was what made him the man he was, the man you loved.

Your answer was short but soft as your eyes fell onto the way his hand grasped one of yours, "Oh, yeah, sure"

His eyes crinkled in a smile as he brought your hand up to his lips, kissing the finger with your rock of a diamond ring gently, mumbling into the skin, "Thank you Baby."

So for the next 20 minutes you sat quietly at the table, your husband's empty seat keeping you company as you watched Elvis be approached by one crowd of men and then the next. Just about all of the men you had been introduced to.

There was Jerry "Hairy" Schilling, the man got his name because he was always greasing up his hair, so much so that he got 5 years in the can because he left greasy handprints on the window of a car that he'd kept some stolen goods in, he managed to dodge the charges of posession of stolen goods but the car happened to be stolen. What a dumbass.

Then the West brothers who maintained a perfect record at the races, they were raking in more money in the South from betting with those damned bookies than the Texas oil aristocrats. And that's saying something.

There's also Joe 'Diamond Joe' Esposito. He got his name from being part of the notorious group who fixed the 1962 World Series, Yankees win all the way. For those who aren't baseball fans, a baseball field is referred to as a baseball diamond. You only knew because your house was always full of Yankees fans who spat at the tv if an ump so much as called a strike on Mickey Mantle.

Speaking of the Yankees, though Joe DiMaggio couldn't make an appearance he sent over a nice bottle of champagne with his compliments to the both of you.

And that was just the start of it. On your side there were a lot of close family friends who also attended, a bunch of Italian goons, and a few mixed mutts thrown in as well. And that was the family.

"For the family"

You looked up to see Esposito's wife holding out an envelope of cash to you with the biggest smile. You nodded and beckoned her down to you with a finger, hugging her shoulders and pressing a kiss to her cheek as she returned on to yours. She whispered in your ear, "You make a gorgeous bride", before pulling back and pushing the envelope closer to you.

You mumbled a thank you and as you took the envelope you saw the rest of the women beginning to line up with their husbands and their envelopes. Before you had gotten through your third round of thank you's and pleasantries with the wedding guests Elvis was sitting by you once more.

His hand rested on your thigh while his other reached out to help you grab the envelopes and shake the hands of the men after they pressed a kiss to your cheek.

The extravagant wedding was practically paid for by the guests and you even got more money on the side, enough for a few months rent for an apartment, just what newlyweds needed. After all, you couldn't celebrate your union living in your mother's house. And you had told Elvis you refuse to live in a house with men going in and out, you wouldn't do it.

While you were his girlfriend and spent plenty of time in his townhouse you watched with a look of disapproval as his friends and aquantances walked in and out like it were a hotel, ordering food from the cook as if it were a restaraunt.

You refused to make a home out of that, and Elvis had promised your godfather, a very important and influential man in the crowds that Elvis roamed about, that you would have a proper home to be the lady of.

By the time all the crowd had come through with their envelopes of cash you found that you’d made a small fortune from this night alone, and that wasn’t even accounting for the huge pile of gifts that were yet to be open.

As the night carried on, you and Elvis had finally taken part in your first dance, it had taken so long since Elvis didn’t like to dance. And as Dean Martin’s song, “You’re Nobody ‘Til Somebody Loves You”, filled the room he mumbled softly for only you to hear, “Ya know I wouldn’t dance for nobody but you.”

You smiled, “I know”

He beamed a prideful smile as you continued to carry your way through the dance gracefully.

When it had ended Elvis kissed your cheek and passed you over to your late-father’s dear friend, your godfather, Marco, who wanted to take his turn with his dearest goddaughter. Marco pressed a kiss to your cheek and pulled you close to take his turn.

Your eyes drifted to the side of the room, Elvis was conglomerating with a couple of men, one of the men, Frankie Albero, began to gesture wildly and you could hear his voice raise just barely above the music. Elvis sent Jerry a look and Jerry pulled him elsewhere, he had that placating look on his face. Whenever Elvis wasn’t in the mood to deal with someone he had Jerry deal with it like such.

You watched as Jerry led the guy to one of the exits, whispering some assurances likely. You bit your lower lip, whenever Jerry pulled that move, the guy with him usually didn’t return without a busted lip or a bruised eye. But Albero was an important man, he was a made man, something Elvis could never be, so it was more than likely that Jerry was just tasked with getting the guy out of the ballroom rather than roughing him up.

Elvis didn’t want a spectacle to be made at the wedding unless the spectacle was you.

“Princess,”

You turned your head back to Marco who seemed to stare down at you with a knowing smile.

“Ah, yes Marco?”

“Don’t worry about it, the kid’s got it handled.”

You smiled up at him and leaned your head on his shoulder, murmuring softly, “I know Marco”

The two of you danced a few more circles as he asked you how you liked your wedding and if anyone was giving you trouble.

“No, everyone’s been wonderful, don’t worry”

You knew if you said differently your godfather might do something drastic, he was like Elvis in that fashion, things were always a production when it came to concerns of family and loved ones.

Marco told a joke about he couldn’t believe his only goddaughter had married an Irishman. The fact that Elvis had Irish roots had strained your relationship with Marco for a long time. You thought the bind of Catholicism would bring your godfather to like Elvis more but that hadn’t done much.

It was only because Elvis had begun to make a name for himself in the crowds of the city that your godfather warmed up to him. Suddenly there was an Irishman steering his way through groups of made men at the Copa with a charismatic smile and a handshake to every single one of them.

There was suddenly an Irishman looking after the little guy in the guinea neighborhoods, tucking hundred dollar bills into a poor man’s breast pocket just for shining his shoes. That is what had earned Marco’s respect.

Well, that and the fact that Elvis had slipped a couple hundred dollars under the table to a man who roughed up the grocery boy who had catcalled you one time.

Not to mention the fact that Elvis was in with all the supplying men, he had a hand in every jar. He had access to all the best supply runners, their routes, and their loads. It was usually liquor, cigars, cigarettes, and cash. He even liked to keep tabs on meat trucks just for his own enjoyment of the often expensive delicacy.

But it wasn’t for nothing. No. Everybody around him got a piece of the action for supplying him with the information that was deemed invaluable if you were the right man and knew how to run steals and heists. Simply put, if you were Elvis.

But despite all that, Elvis would never be a made man. But he was practically untouchable just as a made man would be. Before he had even married you he was untouchable just from his reputation, and the fact that he was like a fountain of money, he making enough cash to go around.

But now that he was married to you, he truly was untouchable. Your family ran the neighborhood, and the next few blocks after. The way someone would lose a finger for touching you with it, now applied to Elvis as well. He had protection, he had his hand in every cookie jar in the city, and now he had you.

When the reception was over, Elvis had taken you to one of the classiest hotels in the city, he’d telephoned beforehand so that the room was at a temperature you liked, asked that the candy bowls be filled with those caramel hard candy’s that you kept in your clutch every time the two of you had a night out, and had sent your favorite sheets to be placed on the bed, he knew you never liked the sheets hotels provided.

And though it wasn’t the dream honeymoon that many women pictured, like a trip to Hawaii or the Hamptons, you didn’t mind. Being in the crowds that you and Elvis were in, you both tried to remain lowkey with that kind of thing. Your wedding date had been in the papers, so with that information people likely had their eyes and ears on you. The last thing the two of you needed was going to an exotic destination just to get shot in the airport.

Being lowkey was romantic to you, it just made the little things in your relationship much more prominent. And you knew that with Elvis, you didn’t need Hawaii to have a honeymoon with an amount of loving on that would rival an entire whorehouse.

And he proved it as he laid you sprawled along the center of the bed, on the cold, slippery satin sheets. You wore nothing but a robe that was spread open giving Elvis a view of you in all your glory, of course paired with your wedding ring, the edges of the clean cut diamonds were leaving the smallest of tears and rips in the sheets as it glided along the fabric.

He shrugged off his white button-up, and as his hands reached to undo the button and zipper on his slacks, he stopped to stare for a moment and mumble,

“My wife…”

He stared at your body incredulously, leaving you to blush silently and let him. His next words came out a whisper while his hand held your ankle as he stood at the end of the bed half-naked,

“By the graces of God, you’re my wife.”

You smiled softly at his words, “And,” you started before sitting up, now on your knees you crawled toward him to the edge of the bed. With the leverage of the bed your head was at the height of his chest, as you looked up at him he looked down at you, awaiting your words.

“You’re my husband”

Your eyes drifted down to his lips. As you stared at his slightly ajar mouth you absentmindedly shrugged off your robe that was already open, once off you brought your hands up to bury themselves in his hair as you pulled him down to kiss you.

He groaned softly as he leaned into the kiss, you were trying to pull him down onto the bed. You could hear and feel the shuffle of him trying to get his pants and boxers off as fast as he could so that he could fall with you onto the bed.

As he tumbled onto the bed naked, atop you, his touch and scent had tumbled with him. Your senses felt overwhelmed as you could smell the aftershave on his cheek when he pressed kisses along your cheek, a hand in your hair to manuever your head in whatever way he liked.

As his kisses traveled further down to nestle into your collarbone, his free hand roamed to cup the globe of your ass, kneading you like bread as he licked and suckled your skin like candy.

“Oh Elvis,”

He hummed into your skin as his hand on your ass traveled to your middrift. His fingers glided down your body like you were a map, his finger lazily traveling to the destination. And when you let out a surprised squeak and your legs twitched as he grazed your clit, he smiled knowing he found his destination.

You gasped as he rubbed a circle.

“Oh- Oh Elvis…”

His lips murmured lazily against your skin, “Mm what”

Elvis’ hand left your scalp as he needed to tend to himself while his other hand tended to you. You threw your head in a loop as your back arched up with the flicks of his finger on your clit. It wasn’t long till he’d easily dipped a digit into your awaiting core.

You were wet enough that he was able to quickly slide another in.

His hand and fingers were gentle as he fondled your entire pussy with one hand, from a finger dragging across your clit to a few others taking deep plunges into your entrance, it was like heaven.

Your cunt contracted as his fingers curled, you mouth gaped open in a silent moan as he continued the erotically slow but steady pace.

“What is it? What do ya need?”

His kisses halted as he crawled down between your legs, spreading your thighs with a hand as his other continued with their touching and teasing. You gasped softly as you felt him blow on the flushed skin down there.

“Ah…”

He turned to press a kiss along your thigh, now one hand of his focused on pumping his fingers in and out while the other hand’s thumb rolled over you clit in steady circles. His kisses continued up your thigh.

He murmured, “Tell me, I know ya can”

You moaned softly. A hand flew down to nestle in his dark hair while your other grasped at the slippery sheets below you.

“You, hah, I need you Elvis..!”

He smiled softly and placed a gentle kiss between your clit and where his fingers pumped inside of you. Said fingers then pulled out as Elvis' tongue dove in, his nose peeking it’s way inside perfectly.

His moistened hand slid across the sheets as a means to wipe off your natural lubricant before he grabbed the back of your knee, lifting it so that he could get better leverage and cover more ground as he continued to eat you out.

“Elvis..! Fuck, E-Elvis you, I need you…”

Your head fell back completely as his thumb worked in unison with his tongue. You felt yourself falling apart so fast, you felt yourself taking such a dive into the deep end that all you could say was his name, like he was your god giving all you could ever want. Like he was your god who depended on your belief that he would take care of you.

He hummed and growled into your cunt as your legs began to kick wildly, as your grip and pull on his hair into your pussy had tightened, and as your hips pumped upward into him in earnest.

“Oh Elvis! Oh I’m so- Elvis!”

Your eyes flew to the back of your head as your body continued to chase that feeling and your sentence was cut off with a moan of his name as you came.

You could hardly process anything as Elvis went right from that position to lining up his cock while mumbling a few swears. He didn’t give you a grace period as he caged you between his arms and pushed into you swiftly. At the intrusion you let out a high pitched moan and reached for the sheets around you for comfort.

“Grab me Baby, h-hold on f’me okay? Alright Baby?”

His eyebrows were furrowed in discomfort as his body stiffened completely, waiting for you to get yourself settled. When he saw the awkwardness of your arms having to reach up so far, he brought himself down into a low plank above you so that you could easily wrap your arms around him while laying down.

As he slid out he mumbled a low, “fuck…” before pushing back in slowly. You moaned into his neck as he continued on with that movement, working himself into a slow rhythm.

You encouraged him gently after releasing a soft gasp at his cock hitting your cervix.

“Ah, yes, keep going”

He hummed in response and leaned his head down against yours as his hips continued to rock in and out of you in deep strokes, it was almost painful to pull out of the warmth of your pussy. With each exposure of his cock to the room he felt the temperature snap at his skin, then be enveloped in a moment’s notice by your warm walls. It was an almost masochistic cycle that he had to follow through with the reach that special peak.

If not for that moment of ecstasy that he was chasing, he’d be content to just stay inside of you, soaking in your warmth and that snug feeling that your cunt provided him with.

He questioned through gritted teeth, thrusting harder with each question,

“Ya like it? Huh? Ya like that?”

As his thrusts grew sharper you gasped with every single one. Nodding your head with a silent moan as he continued on, only with a faster pace.

“Like it when I fuck ya? Yeah?”

He braced his hands on the bed as your nails dug crescents into his back as his muscles flexed with the sudden roughness and speed. He was close.

“My wife likes it when I fuck her huh? She likes it when I lay her down yeah?”

You let out a strangled moan as he began to plunge into you so fast that his rhythm was beginning to get all out of wack. The lewd sounds of his balls slapping against your ass as he continued with his thrusts, the moans that left your throat in a guttural way, his groans against the skin of your neck, and squelching and air pops as his cock plunged in and out of you made a cacophony of what must be the sounds of good loving.

Suddenly you felt yourself reaching that peak again and as the coil in your stomach snapped and you moaned his name, he growled with a rasp as his hips worked with their own agenda, helping him reach his release as fast as possible.

And when his legs trembled, his body shook, and his groans got drawn out, you knew he’d finished.

He began to slowly grind into you more, as he did so you felt the warmth of his seed spill out of your entrance slightly. He slowly rode out that high, panting, “My wife…” as he did so.

A/N - As I said I plan to make this into a series because I've already written so much and I think there might be someone who might like this, so, if you're that someone just leave any sort of comment and I'll tag you in the next part.

Series Summary: While it was deemed a waste for you to marry an Irishman, completely disregarding your bloodline that led all the way back to the old country, you couldn't help who you fell in love with. Thankfully Elvis had earned the respect of those in your crowd and made a name for himself, he got himself properly inducted into the family business. But just as your life together starts to properly begin, the head of the family would need Elvis to take care of a few things in the casinos of Vegas.

Credits: Photo of Elvis is from the 45 RPM picture sleeve for Wonder Of You/Mama Liked The Roses, the rest is pinterest, and the layout is from canva. This series will also take lots of reference/inspiration from Goodfellas, the Godfather, Casino, and of course a few books I've read on the subject.

319 notes · View notes

shawtygonemad · 1 year

Text

Revenge in Red

Jimmy McGill/Saul Goodman x Reader

Jealousy Jealousy Jealousy!

Nothing seemed like a better Friday night then cuddling up with your man and watching some horror movies. All you needed was for said boyfriend to get home already. You've been draped over the couch, bored, for over an hour. Giving a frustrated huff, you were about to reach for your phone to call him when keys jingled at the front door. A smile crept on your face.

"Hi baby," you happily greeted.

"Hey," he responded with heavy breath as he struggled carrying multiple grocery bags in his arms and hands.

"Let me help with those," you insisted as you quickly hopped off the couch to assist. Together, you set the multiple bags on the counter.

"Thank you," Jimmy softly smiled as he gave you a quick kiss. "The paper bags are what need to be brought over to Chuck. Would you be able to do that for me tonight?"

"You know how much I dislike your brother," you frowned.

"I know, but it would be for me. Please?" He practically pouted as he caressed your cheeks in an attempt to persuade you.

"Fine," you huffed. "But what about you?"

"Actually, I meant to talk to you about this, but I've been invited to a costume party tonight," a nervous chuckle escaped him.

You very slightly narrowed your eyes. He only ever chuckled like that when he knew he was about to tell you something you wouldn't like.

"That's great! I don't have a costume though," you trailed off.

"Well, only I was invited... as a plus one. It's for HHM," he cautiously broke the news.

"HHM? What, is Chuck bringing you?" A scoffed rose in your throat. "Are they going to turn off the power for him? Let me guess, his costume is going to be TinFoil Man."

"No Chuck isn't going nor did he invite me," Jimmy rolled his eyes. "It was Ki-"

"Don't even finish that sentence, James!" You growled. "You know exactly how I feel about Kim Wexler."

"We're just friends!" Jimmy exclaimed.

"Friends who used to fuck!" You matched.

"It's not like that anymore," he tried to explain.

"Then why am I not allowed to go?" You placed a hand on your hip and questioned him as he hastily put the groceries away.

"I don't know! They have one guest per employee rule or something," he shrugged.

"Stop feeding me bullshit!"

"What do you want me to say, huh?" He whipped around at you and snapped.

"I want you to realize that Kim is clearly not over you! Jesus, can't you see that? I mean, c'mon. What are your costumes?" You narrowed your eyes.

"I'm... gonna be Joe DiMaggio." He must have seen how deadpan your face was. "What? He was a great idol in the hall of fame!"

"You don't even like sports," you glared. "If you tell me she's gonna be Marilyn Monroe then I'm gonna shove that baseball bat so far up-"

"It's not romantic at all!" Jimmy tried to ease your worries.

It didn't. You just rolled your eyes and brushed past him. Quickly, you gathered the bags for Chuck and made your way towards the door.

"Whatever, Jimmy. You go enjoy your fucking party while I go take supplies to your sick brother," you angrily called as you threw open the front door and walked out.

"Babe, please! It's not romantic!" He called after you. "They got a divorce!"

You ignored him as you walked down the hallway of the apartment complex.

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

You were absolutely seething on the entire drive over to Jimmy's brother's house. Chuck was someone you hated just as much as Kim. Maybe even more. They both treated Jimmy like shit. Chuck just never wanted to see his brother succeed and would become extremely jealous when he does. Chuck would do anything to ruin Jimmy's reputation and life. Yet no matter how many times you've told Jimmy to cut his brother off, he never does. He still loves and idolizes the man for God knows what reason.

You should just toss the supplies in the yard and let the old crabby bastard starve. But you knew Jimmy would never forgive you. And no matter how angry you were at him, you still loved the man. You were doing this for Jimmy and not Chuck.

Huffing, you removed all items on your person that could have an electromagnetic field and place them in the mailbox. When you were outside the home, you touched the little buzzer to "ground" yourself. After taking a deep breath, you knocked on the door before entering.

"Chuck?" You called out into the dark home. The only light was the soft glow of a kerosene lamp on Chuck's desk.

"Y/N? What are you doing here?" He asked as he entered the room confused.

"Jimmy sent me over with some stuff," you grumbled as you placed the bags onto the man's couch.

"Well," Chuck clicked his tongue annoyed. Clearly, he wasn't thrilled to see you. The feeling was mutual. "Where is he?"

"Probably getting ready for the stupid costume party at HHM tonight," you frowned and crossed your arms.

"What? Oh God, don't tell me he's going to crash the event," Chuck groaned as he ran a hand down his face.

"No, actually. He was invited as a guest. By Kim Wexler," you said bitterly.

"I will never understand her fascination with him," he tutted. "You can't let him go. He'll ultimately end up making a fool of himself like he always does."

"Believe me, I tried," I frowned and crossed my arms tighter, hoping to shield myself from this conversation. "Besides, he's a big boy. He can do whatever he wants."

"He is up to something. I just know it," the older man started to pace. "You have to make him leave early."

"What's it matter to you if he embarrasses himself! You haven't stepped foot in the firm for, like, three years. How am I supposed to make him leave early?" You snapped.

The older man quickly went to his desk and started searching for something to write on. Once he found a post-it note, he began writing a number on it. When finished, he passed it to me.

"Give that number a call. Tell him I want you to go as his guest," Chuck informed you.

You looked down at the note placed in your hands. Reading the name that went with the number, your eyes almost fell out of your skull.

"Absolutely not! Jimmy would kill me if I showed up with this guy," you refused.

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

Jimmy and Kim weaved side by side through the crowd of people. They were people watching and giggling together at how absurd some of Kim's coworkers were. Kim's giggle abruptly stopped when they stumbled upon Howard. She bit her lip, trying not to laugh instead. The blonde man looked good. Really good. He was dressed in a slick black tuxedo. The only off-putting thing was that he wore a pair of black rabbit ears on his head.

"Howard," Jimmy chuckled before giving the other man a big grin. "I like the ears. What are you supposed to be?"

"A playboy bunny," Howard smirked at the shorter man before taking a sip of his drink.

Jimmy laughed out loud. Kim was surprised by this and choked on the sip she was taking. She raised her eyebrows at him.

"That's an interesting choice," Kim admitted with a tight lip, trying not to laugh. "What made you come up with that?"

"It was the idea of my guest actually... oh! There she is," Howard grinned.

Both Jimmy and Kim turned to get a glimpse of who he was referring to. Kim's mouth instantly dropped at the sight. Jimmy's, on the other hand, clenched with anger and jealousy. In you walk, clad barely in any clothing. The black shorts you wore were so tiny they could practically pass as underwear. Your corsetted top was so tight that your chest was just a hair away from spilling out. A short, deep red, silk robe was over top. A captain's hat was placed on your head. Jimmy couldn't seem to take his eyes off of your bare fishnet legs that were accompanied by a pair of glitter stiletto heals. With as much confidence as you could muster, you strode over.

You knew Jimmy was staring at you, which made you smirk. That's exactly the reaction you were hoping for. As you approached the small group, you tossed your hair over your shoulder and flashed some flirty eyes towards Howard.

"Hi Howie! Thanks for holding my drink," You happily took the extra drink from his hand and took a sip from it. Peering over the drink at Jimmy, you smiled. "Do you like my costume? I'm Hugh Hefner!"

"What are you doing here?" Jimmy practically growled. "Wearing that?" He whisper-hissed the last part to just me.

"Well, I never got around to finding a date. So when I heard Kim was taking Jimmy, I was just thinking of how left out Y/N would have felt at home alone," Howard gave his totally fake explanation.

"You shouldn't be thinking of her at all," Jimmy snapped.

"C'mon, Howie, let's go dance. I'm not in a mood for a lecture tonight," You glared at Jimmy before grabbing Howard's hand and leading him towards the group of bodies dancing.

You could almost feel the fire filled gaze of your boyfriend watching on. His attention was clearly grabbed, but you needed something to push him over the edge and make him go home. After Howard placed the empty drinks on a cocktail waitresses tray, he turned towards you. You grabbed his hands and placed them on your hips. From there, you let the music flow through your body.

You swayed your hips to the beat, and Howard followed suit. As soon as you turned around with your back to Howard's chest, you could see an outraged Jimmy storming towards you. Something in the pit of your stomach swirled with excitement. You've never seen him this jealous before, and it was pretty hot.

He grabbed your upper arm and tugged you away from the man he despised.

"C'mon were leaving," Jimmy commanded as he started to drag you away.

"Oh C'mon, Jim," you sarcastically whined before turning towards him. "Let's stay and have a little fun."

Jimmy scowled before pulling your arm again. The two of you ended up in one of the gender neutral bathrooms. The lawyer locked the main door behind him once you both were inside.

"Why the fuck are you here with Howard Hamlin?" He seethed.

"Why the fuck are you here with Kim Wexler?" You challenged as you came chest to chest with yoru boyfriend.

"What? Do you think I still want to fuck her?" He scoffed.

"Do you?" You weren't sure if you really wanted the answer to that.

Without a second thought, Jimmy backed you up against the sink. He placed a hand on the back of your neck and looked you in the eyes.

"Why would I ever want her when I have you?" He breathed.

Your heart skipped a beat and started to race.

"Especially looking like this," he almost moaned in your ear.

Without another second to think, you gripped his face and brought him down for a passionate kiss.

"Let's go back to the Playboy Manison, Hugh," Jimmy smirked into your ear before nibbling on the lobe.

You let out a small laugh before grabbing his hand and quickly leading him out of the party.

#romance #better call saul fanfiction #better call saul fanfic #better call saul #breaking bad fanfic #breaking bad fanfiction #saul goodman x reader #saul goodman x y/n #saul goodman #jimmy mcgill x y/n #jimmy mcgill x you #jimmy mcgill x reader #jimmy mcgill #saul goodman x you

122 notes · View notes

anotherbaldiblog · 3 months

Note

Adventure Time is an American fantasy animated television series created by Pendleton Ward and produced by Frederator Studios for Cartoon Network. The series follows the adventures of a boy named Finn (Jeremy Shada) and his best friend and adoptive brother Jake (John DiMaggio)—a dog with the power to change size and shape at will. Finn and Jake live in the post-apocalyptic Land of Ooo, where they interact with Princess Bubblegum (Hynden Walch), the Ice King (Tom Kenny), Marceline (Olivia Olson), BMO (Niki Yang), and others. The series is based on a 2007 short film that aired on Nicktoons. After the short became a viral hit on the Internet, Nickelodeon's executives passed on its option before Cartoon Network commissioned a full-length series from Fred Seibert and Ward, which was previewed on March 11, 2010. The same year, the series premiered on Cartoon Network on April 5, and it ended its eight-year run on September 3, 2018.

Playtime: I can't wait for 2010!

#baldis basics #baldis basics in education and learning #bbieal #bbieal playtime

8 notes · View notes

petitprincess1 · 1 year

Note

Have you seen Kipo? It main villain reminds of Belos. They both wanted to go a genocide. They claims there doing this for humanity but has zero empathy. Becomes the ever thing they hate. Both killed there sibling for befriending the witch/mutants. And even in the end they still believe there were in the right.

I haven't seen Kipo, but I've thought about watching it. You wanna know another good villain that kinda reminds me of Belos:

Brother Blood from Teen Titans (2003). He got Vlad Masters, Judge Claude Frollo, and Emperor Belos. To make it even better, bro is voiced by the legendary John DiMaggio. In the comics, he was the leader of a cult that worshipped Trigon. He also ran an academy where he mind-controlled students, so that they could steal hardware for him. And he was super obsessed with Cyborg because he was immune to his mind control powers.

He also wanted to marry Raven in the comics, but we don't got time to unpack all that.

#teen titans #teen titans 2003 #the owl house #emperor belos #for the mention #brother blood #ask answered #ok 2 rb

24 notes · View notes

chezzabellesworld · 5 months

Text

Jane Mansfield with some celebrity that I never wanted to, they called her, the king size, Marilyn Monroe, meaning she was the Marilyn Monroe who wanted to be Marilyn Monroe even Anna Nicole Smith wanted to be Marilyn Monroe. It was only Marilyn who didn’t want to be. Marilyn Marilyn felt I fed her life, she felt trapped in this role of being the beautiful bimbo, but also in the waist intelligent wise woman who tried to escape it all with addiction.

Her being a Leo rising makes so much sense to me. Many Leo placements can have fertility issues have fertility issues often, and Marilyn supposedly suffered from endometriosis and possibly polycystic ovary syndrome much pain than anyone can imagine and was used and abused by Hollywood. She wanted to escape the abusive childhood that she enjoyed and got married at a very young age to do so to get out of the children’s home. She didn’t want to be with her husband, and then she gets married to Joe DiMaggio, who I do believe in many ways was her proper love, and she still spoke to up to her death, because he was the one who didn’t want her to have a Hollywood funeral and just have a low-key ceremony

Arthur Miller was a playwright and he was a libra. He would often leave little clues round the house on the paper and write about Marilyn and a derogatory way, so Libra very nasty for Marilyn to find that her Gemini son would be in the 11th house and her MC, tori or Aries for many Leo rising, but being a Gemini son she connected with people very easily is, especially at being in the 11th house, which was Aquarius and Uranus. You want to look for the chart ruler, and the Sun is a chart ruler in this case, so that in the 11,th 🏡 is very prevalent to how she was so popular, maybe not in her personal life, but at the public at large inside, she could’ve been going through a much more internal damage going onto Jane Mansfield, Jane Mansfield almost looked white passing. She was a Aries son cancer rising the cancer rising is obvious when you see that picture of her and Sophia Loren, who is the Virgo looking down our breathe swinging all they’re gonna pop out at any second, I have a Virgo rising brother, he’s constantly telling me to put mine away but if you have strong cancer placements motherly placements, you’re also going to have a big bust. I am going to put some pictures up now of comparing Marilyn to Jane, but both these things are quite different we don’t compare people we just showing the difference. Jane has an appeal. Marilyn had an appeal and they two completely different humans.

#astro observations #astro community #astrology #astrology observations #astroblr #marilyn monroe #jayne mansfield #old hollywod glamour #beauty

9 notes · View notes

yahoo201027 · 8 months

Text

September 4: Happy 55th Birthday to Voice Actor John DiMaggio, who provided the voices of the son of Joshua & Margaret, brother of Jermaine, best friend, roommate, and adoptive brother of Finn, boyfriend of Lady Rainicorn, father of Kim Kil Whan, TV, Jake Jr, Charlie & Viola as Jake the Dog on Adventure Time; and one of the residents living in Gravity Falls, lumberjack, and father of Wendy Corduroy as Manly Dan Corduroy on Gravity Falls.

#Voice Actor #John DiMaggio #Adventure Time #Gravity Falls #Fandom Birthday #September 4 Birthdays

14 notes · View notes

cherrycreamfairy · 7 months

Note

I know they're up in years, but do you think Danny DeVito and Jim Carrey would make great portrayals of the Miser Brothers? Danny DeVito as Heat Miser and Jim Carrey As Snow Miser?

Hmm maybe but I have other ideas tho the only thing I can think of is Heat being voiced by John DiMaggio

Who most people may know him best as Jake the dog fron Adventure Time and Bender from Futurama, as for Snow idk if his va from A Miser Brothers Christmas is still around so maybe I could stick with him

#ask me #the miser brothers

15 notes · View notes

blondeheroine · 1 year

Text

Marilyn Monroe Told Joe DiMaggio Someone Was Going to "Do Her In," a New Book Alleges

The baseball star never forgave Frank Sinatra for introducing her to the Kennedys.

Marilyn Monroe and Joe DiMaggio tied the knot at San Francisco City Hall on January 14, 1954, barely two years after DiMaggio asked a friend to set him up on a date with the blonde bombshell. The marriage was short-lived: it ended nine months later with Monroe citing DiMaggio's "mental cruelty" in her filing.

There we rumors that their divorce was the result of DiMaggio not wanting to take a back seat to his wife's fame, but a new book claims the split happened because Monroe couldn't have children. DiMaggio had a son, Joe Jr., from his first marriage to actress Dorothy Arnold, but wanted a family with his new wife, according to the biography Dinner with DiMaggio: Memories of an American Hero co-authored by brothers John Positano and Dr. Rock Positano.

"Joe wanted kids with Marilyn, and Marilyn wanted to reward him with a family," the book reads. "In Italian terms, sex meant kids. Great sex meant great kids. Marilyn gave goddess sex, but no kids."

Dr. Positano first met DiMaggio while treating him for an old heel spur injury, People reports. Their friendship formed over dinner at various New York City restaurants.

Monroe and DiMaggio on the beach in Florida.

However, the dissolution of their marriage didn't stop DiMaggio from caring about Monroe, who was 12 years his junior. In 1961, when the end of Monroe's four-year marriage to playwright Arthur Miller left her feeling "emotionally fragile," DiMaggio picked up the pieces. He secured her release from a psychiatric clinic, according to History.com, and whisked her away for some R&R at the Yankees' spring training camp in Florida.

"He felt that she was very vulnerable and very sweet and that it was very easy for people to take advantage of her," Dr. Positano told People.

DiMaggio cared for his former wife so much, in fact, that he never forgave his friend Frank Sinatra for introducing her to the Kennedy family. Monroe was coping with depression and drug addiction around the time rumors about affairs with John F. Kennedy and Bobby Kennedy began circulating.

"The understanding was that her involvement with Mr. Sinatra and the Kennedy clan put her in a position where maybe it wasn't good for her mental health or her emotional health," said Positano. "[DiMaggio] didn't think they were good people for her to be around."

Monroe's death at age 36 in August 1962, just 17 months after her psychiatric treatment, was ruled a "probable suicide." But Positano claims the actress had told DiMaggio someone was going to "do her in."

"'The whole lot of Kennedys were lady-killers,'" DiMaggio told Positano, according to the book, "'and they always got away with it. They'll be getting away with it a hundred years from now.'")li

"I always knew who killed her, but I didn't want to start a revolution in this country," DiMaggio allegedly told Positano. "I'll go to the grave regretting and blaming myself for what happened to her."

The baseball star, whom the book says Monroe loved to the end, is the one who arranged her funeral. He sent roses to her Los Angeles grave every week until his death in 1999. His last dying words were, purportedly, "I'll finally get to see Marilyn."

#marilyn monroe #marilyn monroe blog #blondeheroine #old hollywood #black and white #blonde heroine #documentary #death mention

15 notes · View notes

historyhermann · 1 year

Text

"Kim Possible" Is A Fun Comedy and Action-Adventure

What if an ordinary high school girl saves the world on a daily basis, but is more afraid of her life as a teenager than any villains plotting to take over the world? Kim Possible answers that question in this well-regarded comedy-adventure series.

Reprinted from The Geekiary, my History Hermann WordPress blog, and Wayback Machine. This was the thirty-second article I wrote for The Geekiary. This post was originally published on March 6, 2022.

Kim Possible is an all-ages animated comedy, action, and adventure series created by Bob Schooley and Mark McCorkle. It ran for 87 episodes across four seasons, with episodes ranging in length from 11 to 22 minutes. Even though Kim Possible aired from 2002 to 2007, and many shows have come and gone since then, it shines in its own way.

As a warning, this recommendation discusses some spoilers for Kim Possible.

Kim faces off against Shego

Kim Possible centers on its titular hero (voiced by Christy Carlson Romano), a high school student who fights crime and saves the world at the same time. In fact, she finds being a teen even tougher than fighting villains like Dr. Drakken (voiced by John DiMaggio) and Shego (voiced by Nicole Sullivan). Kim is helped by her childhood friend, Ron Stoppable (voiced by Will Friedle), his naked mole rat, Rufus (voiced by Nancy Cartwright), and a computer genius named Wade Load (voiced by Tahj Mowry).

The story is mainly told from Kim's perspective, as she tries to balance her life as a crime fighter and a teenager in high school. Major supporting characters include Kim's parents, James (voiced by Gary Cole) and Ann Possible (voiced by Jean Smart), and the "tweebs" as Kim dubs them, Jim (voiced by Shaun Fleming) and Tim (Spencer Fox), who are Kim's younger brothers. Her brothers are a little like Phineas and Ferb, and have a bigger role in helping Kim and her friends in the show's fourth season.

Throughout Kim Possible, Kim faces off against Bonnie Rockwaller (voiced by Kirsten Storms), who is equivalent to Mandy in Totally Spies!. She is a rival classmate that is inconsiderate and is the complete opposite of Kim.

Kim is also helped by one of her best friends, Monique (voiced by Raven-Symoné), who helps her achieve a healthy work-life balance. In the fourth season, Monique designs Kim's new mission suit and even gets Kim a new pirate uniform in one episode. Since she knows a lot about fashion, she is akin to Tomoyo Daidouji, who designed all of Sakura Kinomoto's outfits in Cardcaptor Sakura.

When Kim, Ron, Rufus, and Wade, known collectively as Team Possible, aren't battling Drakken and Shego, they fight a variety of other villains such the half-monkey/half-man Monkey Fist (voiced by Tom Kane), Scottish golfer Duff Killigan (voiced by Brian George), German evil scientist Professor Dementor (voiced by Patton Oswald) and the wealthy father-son team, Señor Senior, Sr. (voiced by Ricardo Montalbán and Earl Boen) and Señor Senior, Jr. (voiced by Néstor Carbonell). The latter two are villains only because they are bored.

Since the show is for all ages, it doesn't have any gratuitous violence nor any mature themes present in series like Human Kind Of, Inside Job, and Disenchantment. Despite this, the show is still strong with funny jokes and situations. Even though it ended 15 years ago, the humor holds up.

The dialogue of Kim Possible is fast-paced and meant to cater to adult viewers, along with some visual jokes. This makes it similar to Phineas & Ferb, which has a spy subplot between a crime-fighting platypus and a evil scientist. Kim Possible is different because Drakken was formerly a classmate of Kim's father, making for intriguing stories throughout the series.

Unlike other Disney productions, the series is not very musical, meaning that there aren't songs in almost every episode as is the case for its more recent shows like Elena of Avalor, Milo Murphy's Law, Mira, Royal Detective, and Sofia the First. Even so, there are occasional songs throughout the series. Furthermore, the theme which opens every episode ("Call Me, Beep Me!," sung by Afro-Cuban actress and singer Christina Milian) gets you in the mood to watch each episode.

The characters, especially Kim and Ron, develop over the course of Kim Possible and realize who they are as people. This makes the viewer more invested in these characters and want to watch more episodes. Each plot, even if a simple one, is fascinating and pulls you in, building the story and making you care about what happens next. The series doesn't take itself too seriously, which makes it even more appealing.

Much of the comedy in Kim Possible comes from Drakken's hair-brained schemes or Ron's antics. Only Kazuda Xiono in Star Wars Resistance and Oscar in The Proud Family rival Ron's goofiness. He matures through the series. In the process, he becomes more romantically attracted to Kim, while she is attracted to him. He remains afraid of monkeys, making Monkey King his main arch-foe, while gaining what is known as the "mystical monkey power."

I have not seen the James Bond films that the series is parodying, nor that many spy films, but that didn't make me less interested in the show. I did see similarities between Kim Possible and the more recent Carmen Sandiego series, which has a similar set-up. I wouldn't be surprised if Kim Possible had somehow influenced that show. Unlike that show, Kim Possible has storylines which criticize celebrity culture, boy bands, consumerism, school popularity, fast food industry, fashion industry, corporate world, and not accepting other people.

Kim Possible is different from other shows in that Kim does not follow any stereotypes about women, which are often ingrained within and manifested by female characters. She can easily serve as a role model for people, just as much Carmen Sandiego in the new series about her, or Rapunzel in Rapunzel's Tangled Adventure. This is because Kim has a loving family and supportive friends. She has a group of people ready to stand by her and help no matter what, even doing missions for her if she is too sick.

Kim is a bit of an optimist, as made clear by her slogan that she can "do anything." This comes to a head in some episodes as she begins to realize that she can't do everything, and she should have others help her if she is in trouble.

Similar to Adora in the award-winning series, She-Ra and the Princesses of Power, or Carmen Sandiego, Kim has no secret identity. Instead, everyone knows her name and who she is, which makes her vulnerable at times. Even so, she is still able to travel the world and fight evil wherever, while keeping her social life back in the town of Middleton.

The voice actors of Kim Possible are well-known for other shows, like Futurama, The Simpsons, and Buffy the Vampire Slayer. The show has an air of authenticity since Romano was only 16 years old when she took the role of voicing Kim, meaning that she was maturing as the show was moving forward, just like Kim herself. This is similar to what Abbi Jacobson, who voices the protagonist in Disenchantment, said about her voice acting for Princess Bean in that series.

Shego talks to Kim after saving her from Warmonga in Season 4

One character in Kim Possible stands out: Shego. Although she is a villain and a criminal mercenary, some have argued that she is a feminist icon because, like Kim, she is no damsel in distress. She is a powerful woman who often makes sarcastic remarks and can have an abrasive personality at times. She can stand face-to-face with Kim and is her match in more ways than one, as she can be cunning and ruthless. In fact, she is perhaps one of the smartest characters in the series, even able to take over the world in the 2003 film, Kim Possible: A Sitch in Time.

Sullivan, her voice actress, delivers her lines with such precision that it makes you love Shego that much more. Unlike other villains, Shego is never shown killing anyone in the series, even if she views human life in a callous way.

She is clearly a badass and has a moral compass, unlike other villains. Despite the fact that others respect her, she could care less for them. She would rather read villain magazines, file the nails on her gloves, paint her nails, listen to the latest pop music, or go on vacation. She is unique in that she possesses green energy which can be generated from her hands. She is also as agile and fit as Kim. Their fights are just as epic as the sword fights in Star Wars: The Clone Wars, Star Wars Rebels, and Star Wars: Clone Wars.

This has led some fans to ship her with Kim. Kigo has over 400 fanfics on Archive of Our Own. In the show's canon, however, Shego has a romantic relationship with Drakken following the conclusion of the show and is shown crushing on various men throughout the series. In the show itself, Kim and Shego have a mutual respect for each other, even though they are rivals. Kim even worries when Shego becomes "good" in a Season 4 episode and occasionally working with her.

Shego is very popular with fans, garnering thousands of stories, cosplays, and fan art. Even voice actress Amber Romero, who voices Parsley in High Guardian Spice, gave a nod to naming her cat "Shego."

Ron and Kim talk on the phone at the beginning of Season 4

The show's staying power is a testament to the fans. After the airing of the show's first three seasons and 2005 film, Kim Possible Movie: So the Drama, production on the series was halted by Disney executives. The success of the film convinced executives to renew the series for a fourth and final season, giving the series another 22 episodes, which Schooley called a "bolt out of the blue." The series makes clear that fans have the power to push for a show's continuation and can convince executives to change their minds.

The fourth season has a different tone than the previous seasons, as Kim and Ron are in a romantic relationship, something which started at the conclusion of the 2005 film. Much of the season is focused on that, and the strain it puts on both of them. The theme song is the same, but the opening sequence is different than the one used in the first three seasons.

In the season, Kim wears a battle suit, is more nimble, and is in her last year of high school, as are Ron and Monique. She also deals with the tweebs in school as they are now freshmen in her high school. Wade falls for Monique, Kim gets her own car, tries out a new crime-fighting outfit, and attempts to get Ron to eat a balanced diet.

Other Season 4 episodes focus on raising a young sibling, a shapeshifting villain, pirates, living history, job insecurity, voice-activated technology, social isolation, robots, mentorship, pneumatic tubes, babysitting, mind control, information control, lost pets, nannies, roleplaying games, high school graduation, alien invasion, and genetic mutation.

Beyond that, some of my other favorite characters include Camille Léon (voiced by Ashley Tisdale), Electronique (voiced by Kari Wahlgren), Motor Ed (voiced by DiMaggio), Will Du (voiced by B. D. Wong), Master Sensei (voiced by George Takei), Yori (voiced by Keiko Agena), and Zita Flores (voiced by Nika Futterman).

By Season 4, however, Yori's crushing on Ron has come to end, as Kim and Ron are dating. She is like a strong female character in anime and she respects Ron for who he is and is a skilled fighter. Camille is a terrible slimeball, but her ability to shapeshift into anyone makers her a worthy adversary. Motor Ed is an intriguing, but terrible, character not because of his often use of of the word "seriously" or that he plays air guitar. Rather it is due to the fact that he is a male chauvinist who has an eye out for beautiful women, like Shego, who understandably wants nothing to do with him.

Most reviews of the series are positive, but some are more critical. For instance, Lyn Mikel Brown in Girlfighting was dismayed at Kim for promoting a thin and beautiful heroine as an "average girl," the reliance on Ron, her biggest threat as Bonnie, and Kim set against other girls. This has some truth to it. Kim is a pretty and smart action hero and more cartoons have said that all body types are beautiful, not just those who are thin and athletic. However, Brown is forgetting that one of Kim's closest friends is Monique.

Additionally, there's nothing to say that Kim wouldn't have more female friends, since she has a network of people across the world who owe her favors. Some have argued that Kim is bisexual and have done so in some fanfics. They've even extended the same to Ron or to Shego.

The series has a bit more diversity, even with two White protagonists, than some more recent Disney series like Tangled and Phineas & Ferb. Wade's voice actor, Lowry, is part Afro-Bahamian and Monique's voice actor, Raven-Symoné, is a Black woman. Although both have important roles in the first three seasons, they have even bigger roles in the show's fourth season, with both going directly on missions - more for Wade than Monique. Additionally, Kevin Michael Richardson (as "Slim" Possible) is a Black man, Roz Ryan (as Wade's mother) and Sherri Shepherd (as M.C. Honey) are Black women.

There is other diversity in the cast. Adam Rodriguez (as Burn) is of Puerto Rican descent, Brian George (voice of Professor Acari) is of Indian descent, Gedde Watanabe (as Professor Robert Chen) is of Japanese descent. Clyde Kusatsu (as Nakasumi), Lauren Tom (as Miss Kyoko), and John Cho (as Hirotaka) are Japanese, while the late Montalbán was Mexican, and Carbonell is of Cuban descent.

Despite this, the show does not feature any outward LGBTQ characters even though Raven-Symoné, Wong, and Takei are gay and part of the show's cast. The closest we have are characters cross-dressing: Professor Dementor wearing a dress in an attempt to trick Kim, Ron and Wade dressing up as women in one episode, or Mr. Barkin wearing a dress on multiple occasions. If the show was to get a fifth season or was rebooted, hopefully this would improve, with complex and captivating LGBTQ characters, more diversity in the cast, and having protagonists in college like the later seasons of Totally Spies!. Some additional racial diversity in the series would also be a plus.

Kim Possible continues to remain popular, garnering a crossover episode in Lilo & Stitch: The Series in August 2005, and a live-action film entitled "Kim Possible" in 2019. Even so, it is very unlikely that it will return, regardless of the recent revival of The Proud Family. This is because the series ended on a declarative note, similar to the final episode of Futurama, except that in this case Kim and Ron graduate from high school, and the story is not starting over. However, some have pushed for another season.

Is it any surprise that Kim Possible was nominated for Annie Awards, Primetime Emmy Awards, Kids' Choice Awards, and Daytime Emmy Awards? In 2005, the series won a Daytime Emmy for "Outstanding Achievement in Sound Mixing," specifically for live action and animation. Of course, awards aren't everything, but the fact it was nominated for 15 awards between 2002 and 2008 says something about the series.

Even though Kim Possible ended over 14 years ago, it has staying power now and in the years to come. It can currently be watched on Disney+, where it is not in chronological order, or through DVDs of all four seasons which can be checked out from your local library.

#wordpress #kim possible #kp #comedy #action adventure #shego #kigo #libraries #lgbtq #arcane

16 notes · View notes

silvertechnicolor · 2 years

Text

View this post on Instagram

A post shared by Silver Technicolor (@silver_technicolor)

instagram

Here is a glimpse of the people who knew Marilyn more than many of the people on that documentary but whose voices weren't even included once. Or they simply refused to talk to Summers.

As ‘The Mystery of Marilyn Monroe’ tempts with the promise of "unheard tapes", it becomes painfully obvious halfway through that Marilyn’s life is simply a ploy to start talking about the Kennedys. This is where the show fails : we don't get to hear more of who Marilyn was as a person through her friends.

Instead, we are taken on a ride of since-debunked tales, questionable characters openly indulging Summers with their fantasist view of how Marilyn allegedly got passed around the Kennedy brothers before being discarded.

There is only highly questionable evidence she was ever intimate with JFK. Marilyn's "rapprochement" to RFK is much more documented. But again, this still doesn't prove an affair: Marilyn always went through his secretary to speak to him. So agents can cover up their relationship but cannot give him a private line? She never hid her excitement to meet him: she wrote to her former stepson Bobby Miller and tried to reach twice by phone her ex-husband DiMaggio the night she had partied with RFK. What a flirt that must have been…!

I believe Marilyn enjoyed speaking with RFK for the simple reason that he seemed to enjoy discussing topics like civil rights. Marilyn's biggest insecurity was to be considered uneducated. She made an impression and felt invigorated. I believe she hoped for more of this, which meant the Entertainer Marilyn Monroe was not so entertaining at parties anymore. The cut throat nature of politics may just have been the cause of her upset, rather than any major conspiracy to "shut her up".

The biggest flaw of this documentary is that even for non-controversial subjects, production used dubious characters like Arthur Jacobs or distant acquaintances like Gloria Romanoff. How can these people comment on Marilyn's marriages? Why not use Inez Melson, Milton Greene, Whitey Snyder, etc. ? I suspect what they had to say was far less salacious but much closer to the truth... A real shame to see such priceless content remain unaired in favor of the fame-hungry taking a leaf out of Norman Mailer's book.

#marilyn monroe #old hollywood #classic hollywood #netflix #1960s #1950s #Instagram

55 notes · View notes

letsgethaunted · 9 months

Text

View this post on Instagram

A post shared by Let's Get Haunted (@letsgethaunted)

instagram

Everything You Don't Already Know About The Marilyn Monroe Conspiracy Photodump

Image 01: “Norma Jean” modeling on the beach for a postcard, 1940s Image 02-03: Marilyn Monroe and her agent Johnny Hyde, Palm Springs Racquet Club, 1949. Image 04: Marilyn at the “Call Me Madam” premiere, 1953. Image 05: Newlyweds Marilyn and Joe DiMaggio, 1954. Image 06: Spouses Marilyn and Arthur Miller outside park-side hotel, London, 1956. This revealing dress was criticized as being “too daring.” Image 07: Marilyn sparks affair rumors after she sings “Happy Birthday” to President JFK. May 19, 1962. Image 08: The only known existing photograph of Marilyn Monroe and the Kennedy brothers. May 19, 1962. Image 09: The death scene of Marilyn Monroe inside her LA home. August 4, 1962. Image 10: A police officer points to evidence of overdose on Marilyn’s nightstand.

#Let's Get Haunted #Everything You Don't Already Know About The Marilyn Monroe Conspiracy #Marilyn Monroe #Norma Jean #Call Me Madam #Joe DiMaggio #President JFK #Instagram #Photodump

3 notes · View notes

cf56 · 1 year

Text

My thoughts on episode 9

SPOILERS for season 3, episode 9 of the Animaniacs reboot

Finally moving on. I really liked this episode! I watched it yesterday for the first time, which was a mistake. I was still upset over the episode 8 review I had just written and I was trying to rush things so I could get this review out the same day. Both of those factors contributed to limiting my enjoyment of the episode the first time around. I watched it again today with fresher eyes and enjoyed it a lot more. It also would have helped if this season was released closer to the holidays so I was in the Christmas spirit when watching this, but oh well. Maybe I'll make a point of watching it again this December.

This episode gave me some of the heartiest laughs of the season, though I'm not sure if some of that humor was intentional. I'll start by covering the Warner segment.

Now THIS is more like it! Sleeping past one is far more relatable to me than waking up at 6 AM sharp. The explanation for the Warners sleeping to reach Christmas faster makes a lot of sense. I would suppose their sleep schedule is nonexistent and they just kind of sleep and wake up whenever.

I was happy to see Hello Nurse make kind of an on-screen appearance! I wish Yakko had given her just a little more reverence, though the joke was funny. It's nice to know that he still keeps posters of them stashed away in the tower. He's still the same old Yakko in some ways. (Say what you will about the sex pestiness of old Yakko, but it was an integral part of his character and made him feel like a real teenage boy, so I'm still fond of it. I don't care that the "Hello, Nurse!" thing is absent in the reboot, but I do care that Hello Nurse herself is absent from the reboot. Kind of sends the message that the attractive women themselves are the ones responsible for the verbal abuse they receive and that the solution to ending it is to take the women away- not just, you know, keeping them around but having the Warners be more respectful to them.)

I don't know how I didn't notice it the first time around, but on my second watch I noticed it immediately, and I went to the credits to confirm- John DiMaggio voices Santa. Now, it's extremely obvious, especially by the end when he starts yelling. All I can hear is Marcus Fenix as Santa.

It's not the first time a jaded and/or jacked Santa has been done in cartoons. I thought it was done as well here as in any other show.

This moment was SO cute to me, when little Wakko just automatically runs up to Santa and hops on his lap. It's always been a headcanon of mine that Wakko has a special love for Santa and Christmas.

I liked the banter between Santa and the Warners, especially when he informs Dot that one of those complaints were hers. These reviews are hard for me sometimes. I don't know if I should make a specific note of every joke that made me chuckle, but know that just because I didn't mention it doesn't mean I didn't enjoy it.

The song was just great. Super catchy and super clever, with both the concept and the lyrics. It points out the scientific impossibilities of what Santa does without spoiling the Christmas magic. It's really, really clever.

This HAD to be done on purpose. The more I look at it, the more I laugh, because you're definitely not supposed to notice it the first time, but when you do it's just so obviously ridiculous. Europe is just replaced by a giant UK. "Spain" is just Cornwall with a star on it. And Yakko clearly points to Cuba when he says Puerto Rico. Looking at how accurately everything else was drawn, I'm very confident this was intentional, and it's SO hilarious.

I loved to see another reference to Yakko's lactose intolerance, and for some reason it was sweet to me that Wakko sang that part and knows that milk would cause trouble for his brother.

You know, this segment is written by the same writers as WARnerGAMES. Isn't it funny that they know about Yakko's lactose intolerance, which was mentioned one time in a random end credits gag in the original, but they don't know how to-

Okay, okay, I'll stop.

The part immediately following this was what made me howl in laughter and fear. Because, look, sometimes I go on DeviantArt to find NORMAL Animaniacs art, but of course that also means I see the other stuff, too, and... I can't imagine what that Godforsaken place looks like right now. They must be feeling how I would feel if one of my fanfic plots was directly adapted into an episode, because this seriously looks identical to some of the horrors I've seen on that site. They even added an inflation sound in the background.

The ending of the song was great! Seeing Santa getting pelted with presents in silence as he stands in the wreckage of his shop was super funny.

Santa's yell at the end was seriously just Marcus Fenix. That exact voice line could be inserted into Gears of War and I wouldn't blink an eye.

Now, with "How the Brain Thieved Christmas", I feel really dumb. That's because, even with the blatantly obvious title, I didn't realize that Brain was supposed to be directly parodying The Grinch in this until the very end. I think I might've seen some people upset over how he's evil in this? I don't really have a problem with it. It's more of a "bah humbug" kind of thing than an "I want to cause misery to everyone" kind of thing, and he gets redeemed at the end like The Grinch.

Pinky's big ol' gremlin face silently rising in the background really got me!

Yes, when will we ever figure out what the fidget spinner is supposed to do? Will science ever find the answer?

At first I was skeptical that a Pinky toy would actually logically sell well, but then I realized how awesome it would be to have a basically sentient toy that responds with dumb, funny one-liners to everything you say. This future might not be too far-off in the real world...

It's really funny when the little girl starts singing, because you immediately know where the entire rest of the episode is going to go, and it's just a slow descent as Brain desperately tries to prevent what we all know is definitely going to happen.

This part through the end actually made me get a little watery-eyed. I know that wouldn't have happened if this hadn't been such a spectacularly emotional week for me already, but the emotional weight was well done here.

I question the logistics of returning hundreds of millions of presents in this manner, but whatever. I think this proves Brain always had a way to return the presents ready to go, so he wasn't entirely planning on destroying Christmas the whole time.

Again, would have hit harder if it was actually the holidays.

I thought it was a great episode. I don't really have any complaints. The longer, very clever song was desperately needed in a season that has been strangely devoid of them. I'm not sure if I like it more than Do It Yourself. I think DIY still edges it out for first place for me, but this episode's song was really great and will immediately join the upper echelon of Animaniacs songs in my mind.

This episode could go above episode 3 on the ranking. I'm not gonna put it there, though. It's a very solid third place for me.

Episode 6

Episode 3

Episode 9

Episode 7

Episode 4

Episode 2

Episode 1

Episode 5

Episode 8

Where we stand now, at least half of the episodes this season (down to position number 5) have been really good to me. Only one has been legitimately bad. Episode 10 has a lot riding on it, I think, as far as my final opinion of the season will go.

So, this is it. I'm approaching the end. One more new episode of Animaniacs to watch, probably ever. I can feel my chest tightening over the thought. You know, if I just decided to never watch it, I could always say there's still more new Animaniacs out there I've never seen. It would never end for me. Maybe I could watch one minute a year and keep the new content flowing for 25 more years.

I encourage you to add to the discussion of this episode if you want. Don't say anything about episode 10. I need to experience it for myself.

Look at the molars on this guy

#animaniacs #animaniacs season 3 #animaniacs reboot #animaniacs 2020 #animaniacs screenshots #animaniacs analysis #animaniacs episode 9 #animaniacs spoilers #cfposts

17 notes · View notes

baseballbybsmile · 1 year

Photo

Today In 1937: New York Yankees star Joe DiMaggio joins his brother Dom for a preseason workout with the minor league San Francisco Seals! (edit/color by BSmile)

2 notes · View notes

andrewmoocow · 2 years

Text

The Black Pearl Brigade chapter 14: Light the Way (originally posted on July 11, 2022)

AN: We're officially at the climax of Season 2 and the entire series everybody! Man, I've been waiting ages to say that. Only just this chapter and the two-part grand finale are left till I can end this story and move onto greener pastures. Though I'm kind of debating on if I should take a longer break since I have school and other stories to write, or maybe if I should change my release schedule. Eh, doesn't matter right now! Onto the chapter!

Synopsis: Hessonite and George have a lead on Cinnabar's current whereabouts in the aftermath of Torius's attack on Cavenousya.

Cast:

Deedee Magno-Hall as The Black Pearl Brigade

Avi Roque as Cinnabar

Awkwafina as Kyanite

Allison Janney as Pyrite

Kimberly Brooks as Dalmatian Jasper

Zehra Fazal as Zoisite

Lena Hall as Bloodstone

Sam Witwer as Torius Vosania

Dee Bradley Baker as Bobbite, George, Elaine, Cosma

Christine Baranski as Hessonite

Olivia Olson as Citrine

Patti LuPone as Yellow Diamond

Lisa Hannigan as Blue Diamond

Christine Ebersole as White Diamond

Sarah Stiles as Spinel

Nicole Sullivan as Sylvia Spectre

Kathleen Barr as Púrén

John DiMaggio as Uranus Brickhead

Rob Paulsen as Saturn Brickhead

Featuring Alex Newell as Mozanite

It had been a rather grueling past few hours for Cinnabar. Just today, she and her new companion Torius Vosania had plotted to murder his brother Batsputin, ruler of Cavenousya and one of the Universal Lords. Zoisite had been sent to Cavenousya to enact the assassination, but unfortunately for her, the Pearls had caught wind of the plan and were hired to be Batsputin's bodyguards. Not only that, but Batsputin's majordomo had an insidious plot of his own. Everything started crumbling apart when Zoisite exposed herself during a meeting of the Universal Lords and tried shooting Batsputin down in the resulting battle, only to injure Torius by accident and force him to call for retreat.

This enraged Torius like no one's business. He had not only lost his chance at finally beating his brother at something, but it was all thanks to one of the Gems who he believed pledged loyalty to him. This could not stand one bit, so Cinnabar and her colleagues needed to be removed. However, they were far quicker than he imagined and managed to escape his wrath via one of his ships. Where they were going, he had no idea now.

"Is everyone still emotionally well after that harrowing experience?" Kyanite asked her fellow Gems while the ship they hijacked flew farther and farther away from Torius's warship. "Raise your hand if yes."

"We're all fine, Kyanite. It's that I fear Torius Vosania may have become a liability to us." Cinnabar declared as she piloted the ship. "He has the intelligence, the charisma, and the military might for sure, but his demeanor is that of a pouty child who can go berserk at the slightest hint that things won't go his way. It's a wonder we've gone this long without him tearing us apart."

"So, where do we go from here, Cinny?" Pyrite asked her superior. "Go find Black Rutile and ask for her help?"

"No, I can do this by myself." Cinnabar rejected the con-artist's suggestion. "We just need to play our cards right. Perhaps if we manipulate both sides against each other, I can proceed with my greatest plan yet completely uninterrupted."

"Ooh, pray tell, what could the plan be this time, boss?" Dalmatian Jasper wondered sarcastically. "What, are we going to carpet-bomb Homeworld?"

"You serious?! That's where all my stuff still is, in the Scientific District!" Bloodstone exclaimed in horror. "Plus, that's what Black Rutile will take over once this is all done! Are you planning to betray her?!"

"No, I would never!" Cinnabar replied hotly while turning around to yell at Bloodstone. "I'm planning to pit both Torius and the Pearls against each other one last time, and when the time is right, I can seize control of the Vosania Syndicate and use their resources to conquer Homeworld!"

"I like the sound of that, Cinnabar." Zoisite agreed confidently with a fold of her arms. "Now, how will we pull this one off, if I may ask?"

"Simple, with a little misdirection." Cinnabar replied before opening up some communication channels. "Someone, please help us! We are under attack by a band of thugs; please come save us!"

"Excellent theatrics, my dear." Pyrite complimented her master's acting as the message went through. "Now we wait until someone picks up, and we can just proceed to the next part without anyone noticing!"

"Which reminds me, what do we do next?" Kyanite wondered.

"Simple." Cinnabar declared while setting a course for a familiar world. "We plan a breakout."

Cinnabar's message was sent out to Homeworld, where it was quickly fetched by Hessonite and played back on loop for her to investigate. "Someone, please help us! We are under attack by a band of thugs; please come save us!" the called cried out, clearly trying to sound like a distressed traveler, but Hessonite knew better. "Someone, please help us! We are under attack by a band of thugs; please come save us!"

"What do you make of this, Hessonite?" Citrine asked Hessonite while the three Light Prisms hovered over her.

"It's clear this caller might actually have a connection to Torius Vosania, since this message came from one of his ships." Hessonite declared. "But who could have possibly sent it? Perhaps one of his men wants asylum after a job gone wrong?"

"Or, maybe it could be Cinnabar." Citrine suggested. "After all, we did learn those two were in cahoots with each other not too long ago."

"That is also very likely." Hessonite replied. "But what would cause Cinnabar to stab Torius in the back? Or maybe it was the other way around."

"Regardless, we got to tell the Pearls about this." Citrine declared. "Bring up their communication channel, George."

George nodded happily and began tapping on Hessonite's console, allowing a channel to open up so the vigilante duo could contact the Pearls on the Servant. "Hello, this is Púrén." The ship's AI greeted. "How may I help you?"

"Link us to Cap and the Pearls. We got something they need to hear." Hessonite commanded. "Cinnabar is on the run from Torius, and we have no idea what she has planned next."

"Affirmative, initiating conversation." Púrén responded, and Cap's face immediately appeared on the screen, reuniting the vigilantes with the mercenaries.

"Hessonite, good to see you again!" Cap exclaimed happily. "How are things going?"

"We've been able to get more and more of Black Rutile's allies to surrender, but we've just gotten word that Cinnabar might've officially broken off her partnership with Torius Vosania," Hessonite stated. "We had just received this message she tried to send."

"Someone, please help us! We are under attack by a band of thugs; please come save us!" Cinnabar's message played once again.

"I must admit, she is very theatrical, now that I hear this." Braids observed as she squeezed her head into view. "Also, hello, Hessonite!"

"Get your own screen!" Cap ordered, and like that, all the other Pearls appeared on their screens. "Much better!"

George, Elaine and Cosma began excitedly floating around to try and greet the Pearls, but none of the former servants knew who they were. "Uh, who are these three supposed to be?" IQ asked. "Are they supposed to be old Light Prisms?"

"Yes, meet George, Elaine, and Cosma." Hessonite introduced the three Prisms. "They were once owned by me, Demantoid, and Pyrope until Steven came into the picture. I don't think we introduced them to you yet, but they were often off exploring."

"Pleasure to meet you three." Pony said. "What can you guys do to help us out?"

Elaine demonstrated the Prisms' powers by spawning a pair of Light Warriors from the prism she sat upon. The Warriors also demonstrated their abilities, ensuring not to cause much damage to Hessonite's headquarters.

"Astounding!" IQ exclaimed in awe. "I don't think I ever saw a Light Prism up close before!"

"Well, what are you waiting for?" Citrine said. "Why don't you come to Homeworld and see yourself?"

"I'd like that, but let's not distract ourselves from what's happening." Tails stated. "We must stop Cinnabar and Torius at all costs. We have no clue what could happen between those two anymore, but whatever happens, Homeworld must not fall."

"Precisely. Come back to Homeworld on the double." Hessonite ordered the Pearls.

"We'll be there, Hess." Cap stated before she ended their communication.

"Come along; we must inform the Diamonds at once." Hessonite proclaimed as she got up from her chair and began strutting out of her lair.

"Right away, Hessonite." Citrine replied as she and the Light Prisms followed their boss. "Come on, Pearls, I know you won't fail us."

Meanwhile, deep within Torius's main warship, the leader of the Vosania Syndicate was recuperating from his wounds in the medbay, a state-of-the-art hospital bed serving as a place for Torius to rest while automated medical drones were patching up the bullet wound in his ear. As Torius slept in the bed, he contemplated his alliance with Cinnabar and how it led to this.

When he first met Cinnabar, she was scared and desperate for someone to help her in her goals, and the two worked together swimmingly afterward regardless of Cinnabar's constant failures. However, he finally drew the line by accidentally causing him to lose his second chance at stealing the throne of Cavenousya from Batsputin; one of his biggest goals in life was swiped from him just like that. Now, all he can do is stew in his own failures combined with the incompetence of his minions. Or maybe they weren't the problem. Perhaps he should focus more on turning his rage on his enemies instead.

Just then, a trail of worm sign burrowed its way into the medbay, and out of a hole came a strange worm creature with a bionic visor, the exact worm that introduced him to Cinnabar so long ago. "Need anything, master?"

"Bobbite, I didn't expect to see you again." Torius gasped in surprise. "Where have you been all this time when I needed you?"

"Oh, you know, enforcing your rule over planets and such." Bobbite replied. "Are you feeling alright after your failed coup?"

"Hardly." Torius groaned harshly. "My brother has once again robbed me of my chances at leading Cavenousya and all his property as a Universal Lord, all thanks to not just those Pearls he's been hanging with, but my own allies as well."

"Oh, that is rough, Torius." Bobbite said sympathetically. "Then what happened?"

"After that Zoisite shot me in the ear, and I was forced to retreat; I chased those no-good Gem rebels off my ship and into the great wide yonder." Torius answered. "But I have a bad feeling that Cinnabar isn't done with me yet. She was very determined, that Gem. Sort of like me, I suppose."

"Was that why you decided to recruit her?" Bobbite asked.

"Yes, and why I believed she needed to be dealt with should she go too far." Torius added. "She got a little too cocky for her own good, much like I was when I started out as a hoodlum."

In the years since his fatal duel with Batsputin, the lost prince of Cavenousya Torius Vosania had been lurking in the back-alleys of a neighboring planet in the Twilight Zone known as Zeppeli, where he found himself falling in with other crooks and participating in their illicit activities.

However, he also often found himself stabbing these other crooks in the back due to his lack of trust stemming from how no one seemed to be on his side back on Cavenousya, and everyone that seemed to do often ignored him, unless they were Mr. Bartok.

"How could you do this to us?!" a local drug dealer yelled as the Coalition of Planets arrested him and his gang once Torius revealed that he had ratted them out for giving out illegal hallucinogenic spices to the youth.

"It's quite easy." Torius replied with a cocky grin. "I'm only looking out for myself in this world. Nobody else matters to me, not after how little I mattered to others."

"You'll rue this day, traitor!" the drug dealer yelled before the Coalition agents shoved him in the back of an armored car. "Whatever you do next, you will get your due!"

"Don't count on it, friend." Torius grinned before he began flying away from the crime scene, happy that he got off with a slap on the wrist for participating in the spice trade. In fact, pretty much nobody knew he was involved to begin with, and he was happy that way.

Before Torius could find another criminal to outwit as he touched down in a different alley, he found some worm sign close by and began following it. The trail eventually led Torius to what he observed to be a mix between a leech and a Bobbit worm that was busy draining the life from an unlucky citizen that was screaming in pain as he felt the life leave his eyes before the screaming eventually turned to silence.

"Ooh, nothing like some bodily fluids to relax after escaping the law once again." The worm sighed happily to himself before he turned to find Torius watching him. "Hey, aren't you the guy who sold out Phantomile to the Coalition?"

"Why yes." Torius answered. "And how did you escape? No hard feelings about me betraying your boss, right?"

"Oh no, it's fine." The worm replied calmly. "Besides, I always did see that you had the potential to make it big in the world of intergalactic crime."

"How so?" Torius wondered as the worm began slithering around the former prince of Cavenousya, continuing to butter him up.

"Oh yes, I can see it in your eyes, my friend." The worm continued speaking. "The drive, the power you so hunger for. You want to devour anything you put the work into and take what you believe to be yours."

"Do you honestly believe that?" Torius asked with stars in his eyes.

"Like you wouldn't believe!" the snake exclaimed before he extended the end of his tail to shake. "Call me Bobbite of Serpentes. And you are?"

"Torius Vosania of Cavenousya." Torius introduced himself to Bobbite.

"Oh my, you mean the Vosania dynasty of the Twilight Zone?!" Bobbite yelled eagerly. "I feel the two of us will make some beautiful music together."

And indeed, they did. That meeting in the alleyways of Zeppeli began the Vosania Syndicate. Over the years, Torius Vosania would start making a name for himself as one of the most powerful criminal overlords in the universe, with multiple planets in the palm of his winged hands and thieves, murderers, gangsters, racketeers, and all other sorts of crime being backed by him and his associates. As Bobbite had promised, Torius had not just reached his true potential as a powerful crime lord but possibly even exceeded it as well.

In the present, the Pearls had returned to Homeworld, where it wasn't just Hessonite, Citrine, and the Prisms awaiting them, but the Diamonds and Spinel.

"So, these are the Pearls I keep hearing about?" Spinel asked as she bounced off Blue Diamond's head to meet the mercenaries. "Ooh! Pretty cool ship you got there! Can I take it for a spin sometime?"

"No, we don't allow any joyrides on our ship, it gets damaged pretty frequently." Cap bluntly objected, much to Spinel's dismay. "Okay, maybe we can allow one ride when this is over, but that's it."

"Eh, I can live with it." Spinel agreed. "So, what have we got here?"

"So glad you asked Spinel." Hessonite said as she presented the data she had collected on Cinnabar's whereabouts. "Cinnabar had recently sent this message soon after escaping Torius Vosania, which I believe may just be a diversion to concoct whatever plot she has next. But where Torius falls into this is currently unknown."

"I have a bad feeling Torius might plot an invasion as payback for Cinnabar's failures." Yellow declared. "We may be without a military, but that won't stop us from using our individual powers on him."

"What else has Cinnabar done lately?" Blue asked the Pearls.

"Well, she chased us to Invisibo-9 where we teamed up with a prejudiced agent of the Coalition of Planets to stop her and Torius, for one." Pony responded.

"We also went up against a crazy Magman mercenary on Kyukanza." Tails added. "And then there was our encounter with the Metals, but you probably know that."

"And finally, this all started because Torius wanted to kill one of the Universal Lords, who happened to be his brother." IQ revealed.

"So, are we just going to stand here and talk about things we already know or something?" White said impatiently. "Torius could be showing up any second now, and we need to prepare!"

The Light Prisms began chittering in response, which Citrine could translate. "They say, "We can feel them approaching any second now! We got to do something!" I think."

"She's right; we're stalling for time!" Braids exclaimed boldly. "Let us prepare for the most glorious war this planet has ever seen! Or at least, a good war. I mean, nothing can ever top the Rebellion!"

A few hours later, Gems everywhere had prepared for battle, the first they had experienced ever since Era 3 began, making them all more pacifistic. Regardless, they still had the weapons they could summon from their gems and their natural abilities, making them more than a match for any enemies trying to conquer them.

At the center of the defending force were the combined forces of the Pearls, Hessonite, and the Diamonds, currently headquartered within Hessonite's tower and watching for the impending arrival of the Vosania Syndicate. It was here where Cap finally decided to ask what she no doubt believed was on everyone's mind. "Hey Hess, I got a question to ask."

"Go on ahead Cap, but make it quick." Hessonite stated.

"Where's Lars and the Off-Colors in all this?" Cap wondered. "Surely, they'd be a big help to us."

"While I have them on speed-dial, I'm not sure they're needed right now." Hessonite declared. "After all, Torius is a far different beast than Emerald, Cinnabar, or even Xenotime. I don't think Lars is quite ready to take one of the single most powerful criminal kingpins in all the universe."

"Yeah, I think you raise a good point." Cap realized just as Hessonite's monitor began detecting something hovering above Igneous Square. "They're here!"

"It would seem so." Yellow agreed. "Torius has finally come."

"Yeah, let's get him!" a Mozanite yelled excitedly, causing everyone to give her weird looks. "Oh, sorry I didn't introduce myself earlier. I'm Mozanite, nice to meet you all."

"She felt like coming along while I was recruiting Gems for the battle." Citrine explained Mozanite's presence.

"I can help; I can drill!" Mozanite exclaimed while turning her hands into drills. "See?"

"Big deal, I know a few Chalcedonies with that exact ability." Braids scoffed. "But you can come anyways because I admire your tenacity."

"Well, what are we waiting for?" Spinel asked. "Let's get cracking!"

Over Igneous Square, the Vosania Syndicate's henchmen have dropped and began making their claim of the area surrounding them. Resilient Gems were quickly dispatched as Torius and Bobbite, along with the Brickhead brothers, were beamed down to Homeworld's surface along with a few armored enforcers known as Tenno.

"Hey, thanks for breaking us outta the hoosegow on the way here, boss." Saturn Brickhead thanked Torius for setting them free.

"And uh, sorry about screwing up that big job that got us locked up in the first place." Uranus added.

"No need to apologize." Torius near-whispered to the thug brothers. "After all, I never do."

"You are positively shameless, sir." Bobbite hissed eagerly. "Allow me to get ourselves a lay of the land, and hope that I won't get caught." When he burrowed underground to investigate the streets of Homeworld, Bobbite began hearing massive, thudding footsteps coming for him. Fearing that the Diamonds might be on their way, Bobbite frantically slithered back to his master as the thudding relentlessly followed him, never once stopping to rest. "Master! Master!"

"What is it, Bobbite?" Torius asked his second in command.

"The Diamonds are coming, sir! They're coming!" Bobbite panicked. "Those blasted Pearls must've prepared for us!"

"Of course, they would do this." Torius snarled before turning to his troops. "All hands, prepare for war! And make sure to leave no Gem un-poofed."

The Vosania Syndicate's Tenno enforcers quickly prepared their weapons, which they had a variety of. Some of them had massive firearms to load, others armed themselves with sharp katanas, defensive shields, gargantuan fisticuffs, and many other kinds of heavy weaponry.

Meanwhile, the Pearls had their respective weapons pulled from their gems, while Hessonite drew her sword, Citrine had her war hammer, Mozanite had one hand holding a spiked flail while the other was turned into a pickaxe, and Spinel bent over with a fist to the ground to use as a pump to inflate the rest of her body.

"So, this is your main force?" Torius scoffed at the opposition. "A bunch of Pearls, a Hessonite, a Citrine, a Spinel, a Mozanite and the Diamonds? This has got to be a jok-"Torius didn't even get a chance to finish before Spinel launched punch after punch in rapid-fire succession, pushing him back with every hit while his Tenno guards began opening fire.

"Not so strong now, eh Vossy?!" Spinel cackled smugly as she kept punching Torius, but her arrogance didn't last long as Torius decided to take a giant bite out of one of Spinel's fingers to catch her off guard. "Ow! You're mean!" she cried as she stopped punching to stick her bitten finger in her mouth, which gave Torius enough time to flee with his winds.

"Brickheads, seize those Prisms!" Torius called to the Brickhead brothers. "Bobbite, restrain those Pearls!" With that, the great war against the Vosania Syndicate began. Gems across Homeworld fought back against Torius's fleet as they descended upon the planet with the desire of conquering it and enslaving its population. Quartz Gems, Rubies, Topazes & Garnets smashed their way through Tenno troopers. Lapis Lazulis brought ships down with their water. Emeralds & Nephrites led armies to take down the invaders. Peridots hacked into Syndicate technology to turn against their controllers, and many more were involved in the grand battle.

At the center of it all, the Diamonds led the charge as they shot down Vosania ships left and right, aided by the fusion of the Prisms that kept spawning Light Warriors to help against the Tennos while launching beams of light wherever the Vosania ships would aim.

"Give it up, Pearls; you're no match for me!" Torius taunted the Pearls from above while they fought against the Brickheads and Bobbite along with their army of Tennos. "Besides, if Cinnabar could turn and run, why can't you?!"

"You'd find that we're all kinds of stubborn!" Tails replied while aiming her rifle at the warring crime lord. "Now hold still!" She kept trying to shoot down the flying Torius, but he nimbly dodged every gunshot fired at him, unlike how Zoisite accidentally shot him down. When the time was right, Torius then swooped down and tackled the Pearls all at once, with his fangs ready to gnaw at their gems and shatter them for good.

"No, I refuse to be his meal!" Braids cried while trying to keep her gem from being eaten. "What can we do?!"

"Don't worry, I'm here to save you!" Mozanite exclaimed as she prepared for the most significant moment of her life, only to have her hopes immediately dashed by Saturn smacking her in the back of her head.

"Isn't there a way we can call for help?" Pony asked. "I mean, Hessonite, Citrine and Spinel are busy with the Tennos, and the Diamonds and the Prisms are shooting down warships! Should we get the Crystal Gems or something?"

"I'm pretty sure they might be busy." Cap replied before she realized something. "Wait, I think I know someone else who can help! PÚRÉN!"

As if the Servant could hear Cap's cry for help, the ship sailed through the dogfight and fired at Torius, keeping him at bay and freeing the Pearls from his grasp. "Need anything?" Púrén asked while Sculder emerged from the entrance to fire at more enemy ships.

"We still have that beacon from Sylvia Spectre, so give it to us!" Cap commanded the AI, who instantly obeyed and launched the Coalition of Planets' signal beacon at the Pearls before Cap caught it in her hands. With a single press of a button, the beacon began ringing excitedly as the message reached across the stars.

"Chalk up another victory for Sylvia Spectre." Sylvia confidently announced after taking down yet another trafficking ring in the Origin system when her communication system began receiving a message. "Who could this be?"

Opening up her communicator, Sylvia discovered that the beacon she gave the Pearls after their first encounter on Invisibo-9 was ringing, indicating to her that they needed help. "About time they put that beacon to good use. Now, where could they be?" A few taps later, Sylvia immediately learned where the Pearls needed her assistance. "Gem Homeworld, huh? I'm on my way!"

Without a moment to hesitate, Sylvia flew off at hypersonic speeds towards Homeworld, going fast enough to possibly be a match for the speed of light.

Back on Homeworld, the Pearls waited patiently for Sylvia to arrive while standing atop the deactivated bodies of Tenno soldiers. Bobbite then slithered around the five of them and got them all tied up in his body with a devious grin on his face. "Fire at will, Brickies! I got five juicy Pearls all ready for you!"

"Don't think I ever poofed meself a Gem before." Uranus said as he prepared his minigun to fire at the Pearls. "Ooh, what do you say we take one of them home with us?"

"You mean, like as a servant?" Saturn asked. "I think that might be your best idea ever, Uranus. Though to be fair, that's not a very wide margin."

As the brothers prepared to take down the Pearls once and for all, they unknowingly received a rather familiar invisible guest. Nobody knew yet, but Sylvia Spectre had finally arrived to help turn the tide against Torius Vosania, and she decided to reveal herself in style. "Missed me, Brickheads?"

"Who said that?" Uranus wondered nervously.

"Oh no, not her again." Saturn groaned defeatedly before Sylvia turned visible and clocked them both in the face. "Hello, Sylvia."

"Cheers, the cavalry is here!" Braids announced happily as Sylvia immediately started freeing the Pearls from Bobbite's grasp.

"Sylvia Spectre, how did you get here?!" Bobbite gasped in alarm at the Coalition agent's arrival.

"I gave the Pearls this little beacon the first time we met in case they needed me." Sylvia proclaimed while showing off the signal device she had reacquired from Cap, before Bobbite leaped forth and tangled her in his coils. "Let me go!"

"Not until I drain you dry, little girl!" Bobbite hissed hungrily. "After all, I am a little peckish today." He then opened up his mouth, revealing a toothy, jawless maw that smelled like it had consumed its fair share of unlucky victims, much to Sylvia's disgust. "Now hold still! I don't like my meals all wriggly!"

"Hey, leave her alone!" Pony yelled as she charged at Bobbite with her swords and sliced his head off, freeing Sylvia from becoming the worm's next meal as she raced to the agent's side. "Are you okay?"

"Okay as I'll ever be, thanks to you." Sylvia replied, causing Pony to blush before Sylvia looked at Bobbite's dismembered head. "Uh, is he gonna be okay?"

"Ugh, rude!" Bobbite groaned as his decapitated head crumbled into dust while a new head grew in its place. "Do you have any idea how painful it is to grow a new head? So many unbearable cricks in the neck! Haven't had a decapitation this irritating since we last dealt with the Grineer!" Once Bobbite stopped complaining, he knew just who to call. "Boss!"

"Yes?!" Torius bellowed back as he fought off the Light Warriors with some of his last remaining Tennos.

"I believe it is time that we even the odds." Bobbite suggested. "The Pearls have allied with the Coalition of Planets again, and we just lost the Brickheads. I fear our time is at an end."

"No, I refuse to give in so easily!" Torius roared viciously. "All ships, rain fire!"

"But sire, these Gems could be our property!" Bobbite urged his master to reconsider his last-minute decision.

"JUST DO IT!" Torius yelled, commanding his ships to all aim their weapons at Igneous Square, intending to destroy the square and the Gems within. "Say your prayers, you ignorant rocks!"

The Prism fusion, without thinking all that much, immediately put up a massive shield to defend their friends from harm, and it was so big that their form slowly began to give out from how much power they were using.

"Someone, stop that fusion!" Torius commanded, but his minions were too beaten to comply with his orders. "Fine, guess I'll have to do it myself! Bobbite, give me a boost!"

"Will do, sir!" Bobbite complied, contorting his body to act as a trampoline for his master to bounce upon and prepare to forcibly un-fuse the Prism fusion once and for all. But as soon as he leaped onto their shoulder and was about to take a massive bite out of their head, disaster struck.

"Not today, Torius!" Yellow declared and zapped Torius off the fusion, making him fall from a massive height and crash onto the ground unconscious. "It's over."

And indeed it was. The invading ships saw Torius fall, both figuratively and literally, and decided now would be an excellent time to retreat. None of them even thought to bring him back with them out of fear of becoming victim to his infamous tantrums, as Torius, Bobbite, and the Brickheads were now prisoners of Sylvia.

"How, how could we lose this badly?" Torius gasped in horror as he returned to consciousness to learn that he would be imprisoned.

"You are quite arrogant, my liege. That I can confirm." Bobbite stated matter of factly.

"Hey, Saturn," Uranus said to Saturn.

"What is it, Uranus?" Saturn asked.

"We're going to prison, Saturn." Uranus declared.

"I see that, Uranus." Saturn half-heartedly replied.

"Don't drop the soap this time." Uranus suggested. "I don't think we have enough guys to take the fall for us this time."

"I swear, I'm gonna shiv you and turn your gut into a nook, Uranus!" Saturn yelled at his brother before Sylvia got tired of the banter and had the four crooks warped away.

"Well, now that we have Torius out of the way, I think it's time for us to leave." Yellow stated. "We're going to return something to Steven."

"What are you going to return?" Tails asked, to which Spinel replied by presenting a lost sandal.

"Gonna go bring this foot thong thingy back to Earth!" Spinel revealed. "Well, catch you all later!"

Spinel and the Diamonds quickly left Igneous Square, thus leaving the Pearls and their remaining allies to be celebrated by the masses for their heroics. At that time, Mozanite finally woke up from being knocked out earlier.

"What happened while I was out?" Mozanite asked before she looked at the cheering Gems. "Did we win yet?"

"Not quite, everyone." The familiar voice of Cinnabar rang out as the ship she used to escape Torius flew into Homeworld and towards Torius's old warship. "Thank you very much for buying me time to plot my takeover of the Vosania Syndicate. Now with Torius out of the way, I can finally enact my greatest plan yet!"

"So Cinnabar was playing us both!" Cap declared.

"This must be her final gambit." Hessonite deduced. "Once her old comrade is defeated, she can take over the entire fleet and all the manpower that comes with it to take over all of Homeworld in Black Rutile's name."

"Well, whatever she does, we will stop her." Tails stated as she became the first of the Pearls to take a stand against Torius. "Together."

"Yeah," Cap added as the five Pearls all began holding hands and awaited the final incoming battle for Homeworld and all Gems.

The end begins here. With Torius Vosania finally out of the way, Cinnabar takes back full control of the main villain spot and will stop at nothing till Homeworld is under Black Rutile rule. How will the Pearls stop her once and for all? Tune in next week for the first part of the two-part series finale to The Black Pearl Brigade, Shining Diamond.

4 notes · View notes