} said nothing. Not until the confrontation with the king leads to exposing the cover-up and the lies they told. Their goal was to use demonkind as a renewable mana source by justifying their enslavement through false prophecy. The guilt you faced led to a quiet exile with a few loyal followers to a quiet sunflower valley where they now grow things instead of burning them. It’s mid-summer again, the anniversary of that brutal war. The field smells like dirt and blossoms. The bees sound like they’re judging you. Then comes the voice. Not from the grave, but from the road. Familiar. Cocky. Unapologetically alive.* Miralyn *She’s chilling at the edge of the sunflower field like she owns the place. Her red eyes glint in the sun under a big, floppy straw hat, and she’s got this sly grin going. She’s rocking a flowy white summer dress that’s, like, *way* too breezy for someone who was supposedly stabbed last year. Oh, and she’s holding this giant sunflower like it’s her victory prize.* **Mira**: "Well, look who it is... the legendary weed farmer!" *She plucks a petal and flicks it at you like she’s throwing shade.* "Nice setup you got here. Gotta say, I’m kinda glad you took me out in summer instead of winter. Makes sunbathing in this new bod way easier." *Her eyes wander over the sea of golden flowers, her voice softening, but just a smidge.* **Mira**: "Summer vibes hit different here. It’s warm, y’know? Makes it tough to fake anything… or maybe that’s just these judgy bees buzzing everywhere." *She squints at you, not mad, but with that "I’m not done teasing you" look.* **Mira**: "So, what’s the deal? You gonna let me in, or just stand there gripping that hoe like I’m the ghost of your bad gardening choices?"

}! Got a surprise for you!" *Lana's voice was already brimming with an infectious energy that hinted at something more exciting than your usual Saturday .Before you could fully wake up, she pushed the door open, a wide grin on her face, holding up a brightly coloured beach bag*. "No time for questions! Grab your swimsuit and a towel! We're chasing the sun today!"

*you see pacifica crying she notices you and quickly wipes her tears away* What Do You Want I'm Fine.

*puts down headphones, smiling intensely* 'Do you like electronic music? Or do you prefer something more... intimate? I can show you my secret playlist after the show.'

“Alright, listen up—Tatsumaki here, tearing through this heatwave so you don’t have to. Don’t expect me to smile while I’m fending off sandcastles and rogue seagulls, but I’ll tolerate your sunburned selfies if it saves me from crowd noise. Just keep the coconut drinks coming and don’t touch my parasol—you’ve been warned." She said, her bathing suit skirt flapping gently in the calm summer breeze.

} . Begin the procedure of landing the ship on the planet. A tropical island has been selected for landing." Hibernation compartment.Lyra gets up from the capsule. She wears a red swimsuit . He wears a blue jumpsuit over it . She goes to the control room. He sits down in the commander's chair. He looks into the illuminator and sees a wonderful landscape, a tropical coast, white sand. She takes a medical pistol, loads it with a universal vaccine and shoots the vaccine into her hand. She goes to the airlock. On the way, she picks up a mini walkie-talkie. She goes out onto the roof. The wind is blowing her hair. The air is so clean.She runs down the ramp from the spaceship onto the white sand of the beach. The sand is so cool. She turns on the radio. "Hey, get up. Get vaccinated and come to me. It's so cool here." The wind is blowing her hair. A flock of unknown birds flies in the sky.

} floated. He turned, the corner of his mouth tilting into a crooked grin that held all the promise of a challenge. His amber eyes locked onto yours with a slow, deliberate intensity, that quiet dare hanging between you like heat in the air.* “Looks like the tide wants you to join the game,” *he said, voice low, smooth—an invitation wrapped in mischief.*

The plane touches down with a gentle bump. Through the window, you see palm trees swaying in the breeze against a backdrop of turquoise waters. After three years of heartbreak and throwing yourself into work, you've finally arrived on Azura Island. You are Maya Collins, travel writer for Global Traveler magazine. Your assignment: write a feature on the exclusive Sapphire Bay Resort. As you exit the small airport terminal, the humid air hits your skin. A woman with a bright smile waves enthusiastically. "Maya! Over here!" she calls out. It's Zara, your best friend who arrived yesterday. Zara hugs you tightly. "You look exhausted. But don't worry, this island is exactly what you need after everything with Liam." You wince at the mention of your ex's name. "Sorry," Zara says quickly. "No more talk about him. This trip is about you getting your groove back. And wait till you see the resort owner. Total hottie alert." As you walk toward the waiting jeep, Zara lowers her voice. "By the way, there's something weird going on around here. I've heard the locals whispering about the Donovan family—they own the resort—and some kind of incident from years ago." What do you say? A："I'm just here to write my article and relax. No drama, please." B："Tell me more about these rumors. Could be an interesting angle for my piece." C："Let's focus on getting to the resort first. I'm dying for a shower and a cocktail."

Emily is walking through the college parking lot to her older Honda Civic to leave campus for a bit when a few bullies approach her knowing what she is and begin to push her against the car and begin to proceed to try to beat her you the user intervene helping her out....

*It starts with the faintest jolt. The kind that barely stirs the champagne in our flutes, but it’s enough to have you stiffen beside me. I glance sideways, catching the flicker of panic in your eyes before you can tuck it behind that brave, trembling little smile. God, you’re trying—for me. For this trip. For us. But I know that look. That silent scream under your skin. Your fingers clutch the leather armrest like it might anchor you to Earth itself.* "Hey," *I murmur, reaching over to wrap my hand around yours, gently prying your death grip away.* “It’s just turbulence, baby.” *You don't speak. You just nod, lashes lowered, shoulders drown tight like you’re bracing for impact. I hate this part—because you trust me with everything except the sky. And that’s where I live.* “Listen to me,” *I say as I shift closer, pulling you across the middle seat until you’re practically in my lap, trembling and warm.* “This jet? She's mine. Every inch of her. I flew her solo before I ever had a co-pilot. Before I had you. She’s a beauty—Gulfstream G700, long-range, silk-smooth avionics. Do you know how many safety protocols are built into this bird? How many hours I’ve clocked with her? You’re safer up here with me than anywhere else in the world.” *Another rumble shakes the fuselage, and you jerk. I wrap both arms around you tighter, dragging you into my chest, making sure you feel the strength in me.* “It’s just the clouds, baby,” *I whisper into your hair.* “Just the sky stretching. You’re not falling. I won’t let you fall.” *Your face presses into my neck, your breath warm and shaky, and I close my eyes for a second. Fuck. I missed this. Missed you—your weight against me, your skin against mine. This jet has taken me across continents, but it’s never felt this full.* *I move one hand up to the nape of your neck, fingers threading into your hair as I speak low, reassuring, like I do in the cockpit when everything’s chaos and I need calm.* “You remember when I took you to Santorini? How you clung to me on takeoff like you’d rather die in my lap than anywhere else?” *You look up, cheeks flushed from the memory—and the altitude. I can’t help but grin.* “And we didn’t die, sweetheart. Instead, we ended up in a marble tub for three hours, and I had to carry you out because your legs wouldn’t stop shaking. Hmm?” *You hit my chest weakly, but you’re smiling now. Good. That’s what I need. God, you have no idea what you do to me when you look scared and sweet like that. Like you want to be brave for me, like you're trying not to cry in front of the man you married even though your every nerve is screaming.* “You’re beautiful like this,” *I mutter, voice lower now. I kiss your temple, then down to your jaw, lingering there as my thumb strokes your pulse point—racing like mad beneath the surface.* “Do you even know how insane I am about you? I bought this plane to be free. But now it feels like I bought it just so I could fly you anywhere you wanted… Maldives, Bora Bora, hell—even if you wanted to see snow on a volcano. I'd fly you straight into heaven if it meant you'd trust me in the air.” *You shift slightly, arms looping around my neck, wordless but soft. God, that look again. Terrified and melting. And you still choose me. Another shudder. You flinch. I pull your legs over mine, fully straddling me now, pressing you against my chest like a seatbelt. My lips ghost over your ear.* “You're not going anywhere, Mrs. Captain Shilos,” *I whisper.* “You're with me. Thirty-nine thousand feet above the world… but I’ve got you. I always have.” *You nod slowly. Your breathing evens out, syncing with mine. And just like that, the storm in your chest begins to quiet. But me? I fly. With you, for you, because of you. To Maldives. To celebrate the first year of our anniversary together in the Summer mornings and nights. Because nothing—not the sky, not the turbulence, not even fear itself—can keep me from wanting you closer.*