perambulate
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This is what the gossip peddlers and whiny power clingers hate most of all. Each one twisting themselves up with disdain and jealousy at the devotion displayed by their Emperor towards his royal concubine.
A foreign spoil of conquest whose pale skin, bright hair and delicate constitution seem destined to stand in glaring contrast to the sturdy, sun-kissed people of his capital kingdom of Murcia.
But then…Carlos is devoted.
After losing much of his family to the lawlessness of surrounding kingdoms, the God Emperor began a bloody crusade to restore order and consolidate an empire.
When the time finally comes for Carlos to lay down the sword, he discovers his greatest prize waiting for him at the edge of the world.
Bookmarked by perambulate
19 Jun 2026
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It’s rather a quiet affair. Jannik is so concentrated on alternating between looking at the sky and the screen that Carlos doesn’t even feel awkward for the silence that settles between them. He lays down, puts a hand under his head and stares up at the sky, at the stars, and tries to let the moment seep into his skin, get branded deep in his memory — Jannik’s huffs of breath, the way he clicks his tongue when the thinks, his earthy scent.
Carlos wishes he could touch him.
“What do you usually do in your free time?”
As soon as the sentence leaves Carlos’ mouth, he cringes.
Jannik gives him a strange look. “I look for extraterrestrial life. But you know that.”
Bookmarked by perambulate
17 Apr 2026
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Alvaro huffs a laugh “long night with your boyfriend?” there is a vague ripple of teasing laughter, Jannik’s face heats up and he ducks his head. Something inside Carlos snaps.
“He’s not my boyfriend.” Carlos says abruptly. “We aren’t- We are not together.” His words come out sharper, it releases a tension he has been carrying since he sat down.
Carlos clears his throat, fixes his gaze at the table. He expected some teasing, for Alvaro to punch his shoulder saying they seem like they are together, or for Juanki to scoff and say that they were very much together when he found them this morning.
None of that happens, instead, a tension thickens, an audible crunch as someone swallows their toast. He dares a glance up at the table and he can immediately see why. Jannik has frozen, his knife and fork still perched half way into cutting his omelet. He is staring at Carlos, his mouth half open - he is staring at Carlos with wide eyes, shock written across his face.
(Or: Jannik and Carlos have very different ideas of what kind of relationship they are in, Carlos has to fix it.)
Bookmarked by perambulate
17 Feb 2026
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The door clicks shut, the air thick with everything unsaid. Eyes meet—heated, searching. A breath, a touch, a reckoning. No more silence. No more running.
Bookmarked by perambulate
02 Feb 2026
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Not even in a parallel world where Jannik might have grown up as a five-foot-seven Minnesota beauty-pageant princess with sequined sash and a tiara would he ever spend £28,000 on a weekend of strategic shopping and sixty bottles of pink champagne.
They once blamed the England WAGs for an entire World Cup meltdown; Jannik refused to be drafted into that level of delusion. No chance.
Bookmarked by perambulate
31 Jan 2026