#I just really love being passionate about things!

[rafedarling]

𝐬𝐩𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐨𝐫 𝐟𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐠𝐮𝐭

pairing: drew starkey x actress!reader

summary: drew appears on the late late show with james corden to play the infamous game ‘spill your guts or fill your guts’. little does he know, you had previously been on the show and specifically requested he be invited.

warning(s): english is not my native language. mild language, secondhand embarrassment, extreme cheesiness and boyfriend material overload.

au: like, reblog and feedback are much appreciated. discussion can be send through my ask box, please feel free to send in anything. ⭐️ taglist | tagging: @rubixgsworld @rafeyslamb @bisexualcvnt @tracymbcm @maybankslover @anamiad00msday @stuffyownswrld @httpsdrewstarkey @mileyraes @enjoymyloves @akobx @noobmazter69 @victwrvale @xoxohoneymoongirl @xoxosblogsblog @wearemadeofstardust0 @saviorcomplexrry @percysley @littlelamy @winniemoe @emberaurora @watercolorskyy @kravitzwhore @issabellec7

based on this request

“Alright, Drew,” James started, rubbing his hands together.

“First of all, welcome! We are so happy to have you here.”

“Thank you, man, I appreciate it,” Drew said, shifting in his seat.

“Though I gotta say, I have a really bad feeling about this.”

James let out a dramatic laugh.

“As you should! Because, as you saw, your lovely girlfriend Y/N was here not too long ago. And guess what? She personally requested you to be here tonight!”

Drew groaned playfully, running a hand through his hair.

“Oh, I knew it!”

“And,” James continued, “she also made sure we included dark chocolate, which I assume is some kind of inside joke?”

Drew exhaled through his nose, shaking his head.

“Yeah, uh, I hates dark chocolate. Like, passionately. So this is definitely her way of messing with me.”

“Well, my friend, she succeeded!” James laughed.

“Now, let’s get started! First up…”

He gestured toward the table, dramatically lifting the first lid.

James scrunched his nose.

“Oh, this smells absolutely disgusting. So, Drew, here’s your first question: What is the most annoying habit Y/N has that drives you crazy?”

The crowd gasped playfully. Drew tilted his head back, laughing.

“Oh man, I can already hear her reaction to this.”

“Would you like a bite of pickled pig’s feet instead?”

James wiggled his eyebrows.

Drew shook his head.

“No, no, I’ll answer. Uh… okay, Y/N is literally the most perfect human, but if I had to say something…”

He exhaled dramatically.

“She never puts the cap back on the toothpaste. And she squeezes it from the middle instead of the bottom, and it kills me.”

The audience burst into laughter.

“That is valid,” James agreed.

“She’s an amazing actress, but a toothpaste menace.”

James pulled out a glass filled with a murky, grayish-green liquid.

“This is a sardine smoothie. And your question is: What’s the most romantic thing you’ve ever done for Y/N that she doesn’t even know about?”

Drew winced at the drink.

“That looks awful.”

“It is awful,” James confirmed. “So spill it.”

Drew thought for a moment, then smiled.

“Okay. There was this one time when Y/N had a bad day she didn’t say anything, but I could tell. She had this childhood book she lost years ago, so I spent weeks tracking down a first-edition copy. I left it on her nightstand with a note, but I never told her it was me.”

The audience awed loudly.

James clutched his chest.

“That is the most romantic thing I have ever heard in my life!”

Drew shrugged, grinning. “I just love making her happy.”

James lifted the lid, revealing a large, slimy cow tongue. Drew grimaced.

“Nope. Absolutely not.”

“Then answer this,” James smirked.

“Out of all of Y/N’s past on-screen romantic co-stars, who do you think had the best chemistry with her?”

Drew’s jaw dropped as the audience gasped. “Oh, come on!”

“Answer, or it’s cow tongue time!”

Drew groaned.

“Fine. If I’m being honest… I hated watching her with Jake Gyllenhaal. They just had way too much chemistry, and it made me so jealous.”

James burst into laughter.

“You paused the movie, didn’t you?”

Drew sighed. “Paused it. Left the room. Came back an hour later and still wasn’t over it.”

James lifted the plate.

“Drew, Y/N personally requested the chocolate, but we added wasabi. Your question: What’s the cheesiest thing you say to Y/N in private that you would never say in public?”

Drew groaned.

“Oh no. Nope. I refuse to expose myself like this.”

“You sure?” James taunted.

Drew sighed. “Fine. I call her ‘my little sunshine bean.’”

James lost it. “SUNSHINE BEAN?!”

Drew buried his face in his hands. “I knew this was a mistake!”

James wiped his tears.

“Alright, last one. You have to call Y/N and let her ask you a question. Answer, or take a bite of fermented tofu.”

Drew sighed dramatically before dialing your number.

“Drew?” your voice filled the studio. “Are you on Spill Your Guts?”

The crowd cheered.

“Yeah, baby, I am. And James is making me call you.”

You giggled. “Okay… If you had to get a giant tattoo of my face anywhere, where would you put it?”

Drew groaned as James cackled.

“Fine! I’d put it on my ribs. Right over my heart, happy now?”

You gasped dramatically. “That was actually a really good answer.”

James smirked. “What’s a role you regret turning down or missing out on?”

Drew sighed. “I was this close to being in a Western movie, and I regret not pushing harder for it.”

James lifted the bowl. “If you could travel anywhere right now, where would it be?”

Drew smiled. “Greece. I wanna take Y/N and just disappear on an island for a month.”

James leaned in. “What’s your dream project?”

Drew grinned. “Something I can do with Y/N. Whether it’s a rom-com or an action movie, I just wanna work with her.”

James clapped his hands.

“Drew, you survived!”

Drew blew a kiss to the camera.

“I did it for you, baby!”

[thorne-kreizler-fanfiction]

I seriously want to break something but I will calm down by writing my thoughts:

-"diamond peaks of ecstasy" I adore that this is still a thing. I haven't been able to forget about the map floor. So amazing it was

-“Your chambers are impossible to find! I lost my way, twice!”😂 We love our king without sense of direction

-I love the fact that Thorin hates negotiations because he's a warrior, not a politician... Yet he puts up with them for her 🥺

-I love that Bilbo talked about the Company's manners during their unexpected visit lol

-THEY ARE HAVING INTIMATE MOMENTS. ACTUAL ROMANTIC ONES. EMOTIONAL ONES. I'M GOING TO CRY

-"Not a reply you expected. At this point his hands would eagerly roam your body, kindling the flames of passion, but instead you are enveloped in a soft embrace." 🥺🥺🥺 They are getting domestic, besides only fucking. My heart...

-Dáin is just the best. I really like how he's written here!

-"Technically, you are not too far from the truth. The dwarf who is sleeping in your bed is not Thorin the King." I'M FUCKING RABID RIGHT NOW (I love love love the use of titles in this fic I won't shut up about it)

-“I hear it every night, my nightingale,” I JUST TURNED INTO A PUDDLE

-Btw, damn him for being so attractive and taking advantage of it. I hate/love when he teases like this!

-Everything about this is just so good. The writing, the creativity, the story building, the tension, everything! Not a single negative thing I can think of.

All Is Fair in Love and Trade –  Part 4/9

Relationships: Thorin x Reader

Rating: E

Warnings: some mature stuff, swearing, power play

You can read the other parts here: Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 ... For @gwen-ever

The credit for the moodboard image below goes to the talented gwenever! Thank you, you're awesome! 💙🦆🥖 * * * All Is Fair in Love and Trade, part 4/10

It turns out that the negotiations between the Iron Hills and Erebor are quite… umm… hard. As hard as, let’s say, a king’s scepter. And consuming. Time-consuming, of course. Instead of a few more days, it takes two more weeks to finalize all the details of the agreement. You have even successfully re-opened the discussions about the failed trade agreement you tried to negotiate in Erebor a month ago. And then, there is the matter of drafting and signing several articles and contracts, addendums and annexes that will guarantee smooth cooperation between Erebor and Iron Hills before both dwarven strongholds start trilateral negotiations for a new trade treaty with Thranduil in a couple of months.

Of course, the prolonged negotiations don’t have anything to do with the fact that during this time, almost every night you spend in the guest chambers. In King Under the Mountain’s rooms, to be precise. It first started with some heated discussions about the finer points of the trade agreement and then suddenly turned into an even more heated night filled with passion. And it stayed that way for a while. During the days you would be both mercilessly haggling about the tiniest details of the agreement, driving all the advisors (along with Lord Dain) crazy, while every night your bodies would continue the sensual dance in harmony, reaching new diamond peaks of ecstasy.

This is an unspoken agreement that suits you both. It turned out that you had similar appetites that needed to be satisfied. When you discovered you were surprisingly well-matched in bed, it seemed only logical to continue this dalliance. Very discreetly, of course. You were too professional to let your personal matters influence your work. Besides, the more challenges you encountered during the day, the more eventful night they promised. You had to admit to yourself that sometimes you yanked Thorin’s chain at the negotiation table only for the sole purpose of experiencing the full force of his temper and his insatiable appetite in the evening. You are a naughty girl, Ragna, and you absolutely love every minute of it.

To sum it up, everything is perfect. The negotiations are going well, your nightly meetings with Thorin are exactly what you need to relax after a long day… Simply perfect. Except you still can’t shake off that confusing feeling inside you. Every time he looks at you from under his brow in that special way, your heart makes a flip. Why?! Your heart has no business making silly flips! A dwarf (a very handsome dwarf, you have to admit it) looks at you lustfully once or twice and you’re ready to swoon. Seriously, Ragna. Are you suddenly drawn to people of power?

Yes, he is a formidable warrior who has won great battles. Yes, he is a great king, admired by his people. Yes, he has reclaimed his homeland and rebuilt it. And he has the ultimate power in all seven Dwarven Kingdoms. With one word, he can make a noble or a pauper of any of his subjects. But these are the reasons why your heart shouldn’t make any flips! You shouldn’t expect anything of him. Anything more than he is already giving you, that is. He has his life in Erebor, his family and… his mistresses. Let’s face it, no dwarf can become so skilled in bed only by looking at pictures or reading scrolls on the subject.

A sigh escapes your lips and you remind yourself you are supposed to enjoy this no-strings-attached affair while it lasts. Soon, Thorin II Oakenshield, King Under the Mountain, is going to leave the Iron Hills. Then you will allow yourself one, just one, evening filled with melancholy and Dorwinion wine, and then, you’re going to find yourself a new lover. Fight fire with fire, as they say. How about Lord Ulfgeir? You have always admired his sense of humor and his lush red beard. Or that hunky Captain Eivor from the Iron Hills Guard? You had a chance to see him shirtless once, when he was training with his twin axes. Yum. You definitely wouldn’t mind seeing him shirtless a few times more. Oh, and you almost forgot about the cutely shy but very courteous Master Fjorvi! He has been sending you little tokens of appreciation for a while now. Maybe it is time you finally accepted one of his handmade gifts? A dwarf with skilled fingers is a real treasure, after all.

Sudden pounding on your door interrupts your musings. Who can it be at this hour? You finished your workday some time ago, had a light afternoon meal and then a relaxing bath at your place. It has been a long and tiring day. Later in the evening, you are going to visit Thorin in his chambers, but now you are having a quiet moment for yourself, enjoying the sounds of crackling wood in the fireplace and getting busy with a private project of yours.

With an exasperated sigh, you put your quill aside and get up from your desk. Mumbling very unladylike curses under your breath, you wrap yourself in your favorite dressing gown (you know, the embroidered one, with wolves in cute pink knitted hats chasing squirrels in cute green knitted hats... hey, it is a very comfy dressing gown, don’t judge!) and walk to the door.

The pounding repeats. Seriously?! What is so urgent that they can’t wait a few moments in peace? Grumbling, you open your door, intent on scolding the unwanted guest.

“Your chambers are impossible to find! I lost my way, twice!”

“Your majesty,” you greet him with a scowl. Of course, who else would be so bold as to be annoyed at you because of his own lack of sense of direction?

Thorin Oakenshield, His Irritating Majesticness stands in your door with a long and partially unrolled piece of parchment in his hand, a royal frown on his face.

“Lady Ragna, there is an error in Annex no. 3 to the treaty! Erebor has never accepted the reduction of 7,25% in the price of our weapons! Outrageous! If this is some sly idea to make me sign the agreement in this form, you are gravely mistaken!” He growls. And fumes. And roars. You wouldn’t be surprised if half of the dwarves living in the Iron Hills have heard him by now. Perfect. The last thing you need right now is for everyone to get to know that the king himself is visiting you in your quarters while you are not quite properly dressed.

“Please, come in, your majesty,” you let him in and he stomps into your chambers, grunting. You close the door and sigh in relief. The corridor behind him seemed empty. Hopefully there were no prying eyes present when he made that scene. What a temper!

Now he’s standing in your hallway, filling it completely with his presence, along with the scent of pine resin and tobacco smoke… and a good measure of bad temper. But it is Thorin, and even now he takes your breath away. Why does he have to be so annoyingly handsome? The Raven Crown of Erebor sits on his head, obsidian against gold, shimmering in the firelight, making him look even more regal and more majestic than usual. It’s been a while since you have seen him in his official raiment: black tunic and trousers adorned with golden details, immaculately polished boots, fur-lined cloak, rings glittering on his fingers, and that legendary crown. You recall that he left today’s negotiations earlier in order to have a Very Important Audience or fulfil some other boring kingly duty. Well, that explains his clobber. You didn’t think he came here dressed like this only to impress you, Ragna, did you?

“7,25%! For a standard consignment of long-range crossbows! I clearly said 5,25%!” he bares his teeth, his nostrils flaring. “That is true, your majesty,” you admit calmly.

“Never before in its history has Erebor sold such advanced weapons to anyone!” he bellows, sapphire lightnings flashing in his eyes. “And we are very grateful that you decided to make an exception to this rule for the Iron Hills,” you bow your head slightly. You are speaking the truth; everyone in your city can sleep better at night knowing that thanks to these weapons, your warriors will finally gain a significant advantage over the Orcs.

“Any warrior who took part in that battle would have seen that you are in need of more ranged weapons,” he waves his hand and points at the parchment. “But that does not mean that I can be tricked like a beardless youth!”

“Let me take a look at it, your majesty” you desperately try not to roll your eyes. He keeps frowning at you, but offers you the parchment. As you reach for it, your hands brush against each other and you feel pleasant, warm prickling on the surface of your skin. You would prefer if he were to place his hand against your cheek instead, and murmur sweet nothings, like he would sometimes do in the darkest hours before the dawn. Whenever he does that, it is as if you were basking in the sunlight. But now it’s not the time for such things; you are speaking with Thorin the King. Thorin the Lover is not there.

With a gesture, you invite him to sit on one of the comfortable armchairs in your study, while you settle yourself by the desk, looking over the document in the flickering light of a candle.

“Ah, yes, I see it now,” you nod, trying not to notice that Thorin the King is not sitting down, but looking around the room. And maybe even glances at you once or twice. You feel an urge to raise your hand to check whether your hair is meticulously braided, but you stop yourself at the last moment. A mortifying realization dawns on you. Your hair is not braided at all, still a bit damp and unruly after the bath you took. You planned to make an elaborate hairdo a bit later, before visiting Thorin. Damn. Oh, and you don’t wear any makeup either. No jewellery. No perfume. Just some very comfy (and very unattractive!) pieces of underwear underneath your ridiculous dressing gown. And your fingers stained with black ink. There goes your plan of impressing the king tonight. Damn, damn, damn.

“This is a blatant extortion, Lady Ragna, and I will not tolerate it!” he proclaims regally, clearly not noticing how flustered you are right now. Calm down, woman, you may look like a half-drowned mine rat, but it doesn’t mean you can’t act professionally. It’s time to gather your wits.

“I would not tolerate it either,” you cast a pointed look at the king in front of you. His head is slightly tilted, and a strange spark flickers in his eyes. Why is he staring at you like this anyway?

“So you admit it’s unacceptable?” he lowers his voice.

“I do. Mistakes like these can’t happen when one is copying a treaty!” “Mistakes? What on earth do you mean, woman?!” he huffs with indignation, stomping his foot.

“I recognize the handwriting. This copy was made by that young scribe, Hovi. I will have to have a word with him. He needs to be more diligent.”

“I… see,” he tugs at his beard braid. Does your hearing deceive you or do you hear a quiet growl? Like a storm abating in a distance.

You get up from your chair and hand him the parchment.

“I apologize for this regrettable mistake on behalf of the Iron Hills, your majesty. I clearly remember that you generously agreed to 5,25%,” oh yes, there’s nothing better than a bit of flattery when it comes to kings. You add, “I will make sure that a correct copy of the treaty reaches you tomorrow.”

He accepts your explanation with a slight nod.

“Thank you, Lady Ragna. I would like to avoid such unpleasant surprises in future.”

“As would I, your majesty. Would that be all?” you ask, but the answer never comes.

Instead, the king casts a lengthy glance at the walls of your study, then at the parchment back in his hands, then at you, and then his eyes rest on your desk. Silence fills the room as his scrutinizing gaze returns to you. This time you can’t stop yourself and one of your hands clutches the sides of your bathrobe together just above your breasts, as if that gesture were to reassure you that you look presentable enough. Mahal forbid if he were to think that you decided to show too much of your cleavage while attending to the matters of state at this very moment. His eyes travel from your face to your fisted hand and suddenly you notice a hint of tiredness in his features. He lets out a sigh and clears his throat.

“Ragna… Have I interrupted you?” he asks in a softer tone. This is not Thorin the King speaking any longer.

“I’m sorry?” you frown.

“You were clearly busy when I… barged in. I apologize for my… hastiness,” now he is staring at his own hands.

You, on the other hand, are wondering if you are hallucinating. Thorin Oakenshield is saying he is sorry for being… well, himself. First he shouts, then this. What is happening to him?

Nodding, you accept his words. “I was simply going through some documents. Nothing of real importance, you needn’t be worried.”

“Maps. You were looking at old maps of the Misty Mountains,” he observes, swiftly approaching your desk. Oh, great. He noticed them. It’s too late to put them away now.

“This one,” he picks out one of the parchments scattered at your desk. You want to protest at first, it’s a very old map, but then you notice how carefully he holds the brittle parchment in his fingers.

“The old east road to Khazad-dûm,” he speaks quietly, as to himself. The frown on his face is replaced by another emotion casting shadow upon his eyes. “There is the river, Silverlode, and there, the blessed lake of Kheled-zâram. May I ask you why you are studying a several hundred year old map of Azanulbizar?”

In an attempt to put the map away, this little secret of yours, you take it from his hands, trying to stop your own hands from shaking slightly, and start rolling the parchment back in order to put it back into its leather container. Damn, Ragna, you should have been more careful. You take a moment to gather your thoughts.

“I’m copying it. It is a bit of a hobby of mine, you see. Copying old maps before they become too faded to read,” you try to smile and fail. He doesn’t say a word, clearly waiting for a longer explanation. You take a moment to put the map back on its shelf and gather your thoughts. “My great-great-great-grandfather was a cartographer and this is one of his last creations. When Khazad-dûm fell, he left Moria and moved to the Iron Hills with his family, taking this map with him. My father inherited it from his father. He hoped we would once again see the crystal clear waters of Kheled-zâram. That is why he answered King Thrór’s call to arms when the time came. He believed that Khazad-dûm could be reclaimed and we would return to our ancestral home. Before he left for the battle, he left this map to me. I still remember his words: When I come back, poppet, he would always call me his ‘poppet’, we will follow the trail to the sacred lake of our people and look at the reflection of Durin’s Crown, just like Durin himself did in his time. He wanted me to keep the map safe until we met again.”

“Your father… He fought in the battle of Azanulbizar,” a realization dawns in his eyes. You wonder if he has heard the trembling in your voice.

“He did. But he never came back,” you look down, blinking away the tears. You still remember that day when your father was leaving to win back Moria, even though you were still a pebble, not even half battle age. You were standing at one of the terraces with your mother, holding her hand tight, observing the burly figure of your father shrinking in the distance as he marched together with the other warriors. You still remember the chill of the wind tearing through your hair, your nose barely reaching above the stone railing. And then, for a moment, he turned back and waved to you, sending you both a kiss and one of his wide smiles. This was the last time you saw him: wearing his shiny armor, and a triumphant grin on his face. Since then, his armor lost its luster, scattered on that battlefield, pierced by an Orc blade.

A pair of warm hands covers yours and you realize how close to you Thorin is standing.

“I know what it means to lose one’s kin on a battlefield,” he says in a solemn voice. You look down at your joined hands. Yours are a bit paler and smaller, stained with the ink you used for drawing the map, while his clean wide hands of a warrior, are adorned by multiple rings, the symbols of his station, his birthright. One of them immediately catches your eye: a wide silver ring carved with runes, Thorin’s personal seal, probably given to him by his father or grandfather as the young prince came of age, before Smaug attacked their kingdom. This ring was with Thorin through all the years of hardships and the moments of triumph alike. Now, your fingers are tracing the shapes on its cool silver surface. A tangible fragment of his life, his heritage. You are wondering how it could have felt for him to reclaim his home, to sit on the throne of Erebor for the first time, knowing that neither Thrór nor Thráin would see him fulfil his destiny, knowing that the burden of power was now only his to bear.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have brought up the war. Your grandfather… and your brother… Forgive me,” you whisper, giving his hand a gentle squeeze. “Ragna, there is nothing to forgive. Each of them died a warrior’s death. A noble one. Just like your father. Now they are feasting in Mahal’s Halls together with the rest of our noble ancestors. We should be proud of them. Remember their sacrifice.”

You don’t know how or when it happens, but his arms are wrapped around you, and you bury your face in the soft folds of his tunic. One of his hands is running through your hair soothingly as your nostrils fill with his manly scent that makes you think of the pines growing on the slopes of the Lonely Mountain.

“My father’s dearest wish was to reclaim Erebor for our people,” you feel his deep voice reverberating in his chest. “He left Ered Luin soon after the war, never to return. I have only memories to remember him by.”

“Were you close?” you whisper into his chest, surprised by your own boldness. Ragna the Negotiator would never ask the King of Erebor this kind of personal question. But this is not a council chamber. You are at your own home and here, you are not that person. You are simply Ragna, daughter of Eldi, and here, in front of you, stands Thorin, son of Thrain, the dwarf whose hand you are holding, and whose tunic is slightly damp with your tears. And at this very moment, he somehow feels kindred. Safe.

“He was the one who taught me how to be a warrior. He showed me that the mountains can be just as beautiful on the outside as on the inside,” Thorin says after a pause, his voice softening. “Every time I travel along a mountain path, I know he would have enjoyed it as much as I do.”

“How does it feel to traverse the mountains?” This question seems a bit easier to ask, and then you admit, slightly embarrassed. “My father has often traveled, but I have never had the chance to experience it myself.”

“It has been a while since I have done it. Matters of state, you see,” he lets out a sad chuckle. “There is a kind of raw beauty in those snowy peaks, a kind of serenity one cannot find anywhere else,” he pauses for a moment. “If you would like to fulfill your father’s wish, I will be more than happy to accompany you to Kheled-zâram so you can see it with your own eyes.”

Now it’s your turn to chuckle ruefully. “A dwarven lady of the court traveling through the wilderness into Orc territory? That’s unheard of!”

“Unheard of, but not impossible,” he opposes you, but now his hand loosens from your hair and gently covers your palm still tightly clutching his other palm. “We can arrange basic weapon training for you. And my warriors will be accompanying us.”

“I have never traveled further than Erebor. Besides, I doubt that Lord Dain would allow one of his advisors, and a woman at that, to take a longer trip without his protection,” you shake your head, but your fingers intertwine with his of their own accord.

“You would be under my protection. And you would see everything the map cannot show you. The eastern trail to Khazad-dûm comes alive in the summer. The snowy mountain tops glitter like diamonds in the sun and the waterfalls gleam like the clearest silver. If we are lucky, we can even see some of the young ibex high up the mountain slopes, and there is nothing better than a night beneath the stars, when you can listen to the wind dancing among the branches of the dwarf mountain pines. An old legend says that one night spent among these trees will prolong your life by a month,” listening to his soothingly deep voice, you allow yourself to run your fingers along the back of his hand, following an old crescent-shaped scar. He doesn’t retract his hand; on the contrary, you feel the tension leave his muscles.

You raise your head and your eyes meet in silence. He is waiting for your reply. You open your mouth to speak, you even lick your lips, but then you notice a sudden flicker in the depth of his gaze, and you look away, suddenly startled by it, refusing to decipher its meaning.

“Well… perhaps. Some day,” you force a tiny smile on your face. Bravo, Ragna! A perfect diplomatic answer. Are you afraid that he’s capable of following through on his proposal? Or what would the people think? Now, now, don’t lie to yourself, you never gave a goat’s ass about what they thought or said of you. So why now? Does it have anything to do with the fact that he has just offered something more than spending another night in his bed? Something more… substantial? Official? Maybe even slightly… romantic? A possibility to spend time together for everyone to see? No. Be realistic, girl! That’s not what he’s proposing, he’s simply being polite. You both know it’s never going to happen. Such things are simply not done. He is the king and he has better things to do with his time than running around through orc-infested lands with a lady who can’t even properly hold a sword.

“I will take it as a yes,” Thorin holds your hand, rubbing his thumb against the part of your palm between your thumb and index finger. Seeing a small smile on his face, you manage to smile back at him a little, even though a storm of conflicting emotions rages in your heart.

“Would you like to stay for dinner?” you hear yourself say. This topic is much safer. It doesn’t offer courteous promises nor polite gestures and it doesn’t make you think of the future.

“Only for dinner?” his left eyebrow travels up his forehead and a familiar teasing smirk returns to his face.

“You can stay longer if it turns out that your appetite is not satisfied,” your smile widens and you feel on safe waters once again. Flirting is something you can do at any time of the day.

“Let us start with dinner, then,” he seals the bargain.

“Very well. But there is one condition…”

“Here we go, another hidden clause in the treaty,” he sighs theatrically, sparks of laughter in his eyes, little lines at the corners. “What is it?”

“First you have to wash your hands,” you state firmly.

“As you wish, my lady. As you wish,” he guffaws and places a courteous kiss on the knuckles of your hand.

The dinner passes in a pleasant atmosphere. The Raven Crown along with Thorin’s royal cloak are now piled up on one of your armchairs in your study, completely forgotten. Before the meal was ready, you managed to change into one of your simpler dresses and braid your hair. After all, you are entertaining a guest and you need to look at least a bit presentable.

“Would you care for more Dorwinion wine?” you offer after the hearty meal, noticing that your esteemed guest approves of the drink.

“I wouldn’t say no, but you have to tell me, Ragna, how on earth have you managed to find this vintage?” his sensual lips wrap around the edge of the chalice as he takes another sip. Damn his lips, damn your vivid imagination. You wish you could put your head into an ice bucket. Focus, Ragna!

“I had the opportunity to conduct the negotiations on some trade treaties with the Woodland Realm,” you answer, wondering how he will react to your words. “Let’s just say I received a crate of this particular vintage as a gesture of appreciation from the king of Mirkwood himself.”

Thorin furrows his brow almost immediately. “King Thranduil, that pompous elf, does not share well. I was informed this vintage was unavailable.” “Have you tried asking politely?”

“I’m not in the habit of groveling before honourless wood-dwellers who enjoy keeping their guests in their deepest dungeons!”

“I see,” you smile and take a sip of the wine, enjoying its rich bouquet. “Since we are about to enter into an agreement between Iron Hills, Erebor and the Woodland Realm, I will let you in on a secret. Thranduil has an overgrown ego.”

“I could have told you that myself,” he grunts, pushing the chalice away. “Ah, then you know how to use this flaw to your advantage in the upcoming negotiations?” your smile turns into a grin.

He grunts again, “I hope I will not have to see his beardless face longer than it’s necessary.”

Just then it dawns on you. That impossibly short temper he demonstrates at the negotiation table. Those theatrical sighs and grunts. The ever-present frown. And his ridiculous demands when something isn’t going according to his plan. King Thorin II Oakenshield hates to negotiate! Hates the haggling! The hidden clauses and addendums! All the things that make you feel alive whenever you start a new round of talks. Of course. It is clear to you now. You glance at one of his hands as he toys with the chalice, rolling its stem between his fingers in irritation. This is the hand of a warrior. He likes swift solutions, rapid attacks, efficient cuts with his sword, swift results. You recall the first day of your negotiations here, in the Iron Hills, the stormy cloud constantly hanging over his forehead, his furious scribbling, and the way he broke his quill in irritation. Every hour in a dusty council room must be a torture to him. Oh, no, my dear king. Trade negotiations do not work like this. You have to hammer out every single detail, and it takes time.

“Then I guess this is the only place you will have the chance to enjoy this vintage at,” you snigger.

“I’m enjoying both the vintage and the company,” he raises his chalice in an appreciative gesture, clearly amused by your teasing, the frown gone from his face.

The company. You glance at him once again, not sure how to feel about his words, and choose the safest route.

“And here I was beginning to worry that you came here only to eat all of my food, drink all of my wine and destroy my plumbing!”

“Has Master Baggins been telling you his version of the events in Bag End during his visit in the Iron Hills?”

“I heard rumors,” you admit. You still remember the cheerful hobbit and some of the improbable stories he told everyone who cared to listen. Trolls turning into stone of all things! No dwarf in their right mind would believe him. Mahal would never bless such foul creatures with its embrace.

“You should not believe everything he says on account of his very vivid imagination. Every member of my company behaved admirably. We even cleaned the dishes and tidied up the place before leaving. Unfortunately, our dear Master Baggins drank a bit too much that evening so he may not have remembered everything well,” a fond smile appears on Thorin’s face at the recollection of those events, but there is a twinkle in his eye that makes you wonder whether he is jesting or not.

After spending a few moments in silence, you reach for your smoking pouch; the one that Thorin gave to you some time ago. Stuffing your pipe with tobacco, you decide to ask him a question that has been on your mind for some time.

“I would love to hear about your travels… and your adventures. If you’d like to share them with me, that is,” you say, focusing on your pipe. It is better not to look at him now, you decide. He doesn’t need to know how much you have always wanted to learn about how it was to travel all the way from Ered Luin to Rhovanion, to chase away the dragon, to restore Erebor to its people.

“Under one condition, Ragna,” the velvety softness of his voice sends a shiver down your spine.

You raise your gaze in surprise. Clearly all those negotiations have rubbed off on him.

“What kind of a condition?” you ask.

“May I have a light?” he asks with a cheeky smile, presenting his pipe at you. You are instantly transported to that night on the terrace. Clever, clever king.

“Your wish is my command, your majesty,” you nod, taking out your flint striker. You know that this time, when your hands meet again, none of you will avoid the touch.

The pleasant aroma of tobacco envelops you while the blue wisps of pipe smoke dance in the air above, intertwining, creating fantastic shapes formed like wild beasts, ugly goblins, high mountain peaks, turbulent rivers. At the same time, Thorin’s steady voice fills the room as he weaves his tale of ancient forests, dangerous stone giants, bloodthirsty Orcs, ferocious wargs and hidden treasures. You can almost see it all happening right before your eyes. Your gaze follows the strands of smoke rising above your head and see an elven city of unsurpassed beauty, among flowing waterfalls. And there, to the left, you see a narrow path meandering along the steep slopes of the Misty Mountains. A group of tall pines appears in a distance, with great eagles circling above them. Below, a giant dragon glides over a lake and an army of dwarves marches into a battle, a bear-man among them.

You feel warm, relaxed and weightless as your mind slowly drifts towards the ceiling along with the conjured images.

Something soft brushes against your forehead. Someone whispers, “Sleep well, Ragna…”

“Thorin?” your eyelids flutter open, your fingers close around his wrist. His face is hovering above you, but you are not in your dining room any longer. This is your bed, you are covered with a blanket, and Thorin is sitting beside you.

“I think I have bored you enough for one night. You need your rest,” he explains and starts to rise from the bed. Then your hazy mind understands. He wants to leave and take all that warmth with him. And you will be here, alone. In an empty bed. This is not how you spent the last two weeks. It is night now, and at night, you are together.

“But… but you have to stay for dessert!” you protest, sitting up immediately. You refuse to let him go. He can’t go. Not yet. There are many hours until dawn. Too many. Wake up, Ragna! Wake up and think!

“Dessert?” he lifts his eyebrow meaningfully. “What kind of a dessert do you have in mind?”

These words bring up your mind to full speed, chasing away the drowsiness.

“I might have a few proposals…” your voice trails off suggestively.

“I’m listening,” Thorin’s mouth twitches.

“How about this one?” you move behind his back and carefully lift the heavy mane of his hair, moving it to the front, over his shoulder. Then you rest your hands on his shoulders, noticing how tense his muscles are under the fabric of his tunic. Yes, a proper massage is what this particular dwarf needs right now. Unhurriedly, you work on his flesh, disentangling each knot of muscles after another. A satisfied sigh escapes Thorin’s lips. “Is this dessert to your liking?” you ask him, your hands once again on his now softened shoulders.

“It most definitely is. It only lacks a cherry on top,” he admits and before you can react, he turns towards you and takes you in your arms, placing a kiss on your lips.

This kiss is very different from any other kiss you have evershared. It is gentle, like a breath of warm spring wind over a blooming meadow. It is tender, like the wings of a butterfly that is savoring the sweet nectar from the petals of your slightly parted lips. Soon, you both fall on the pillows of your bed, your lips meeting once again in that intimate dance, softly, unhurriedly enjoying the newly discovered sensations. And then you simply stop, facing each other, your forehead pressed against his, your blood singing in your veins with joy, your breaths intermingling, your hands clasped together. You don’t dare to say even a word, not wanting to ruin this precious moment.

That is when the great war hero, Thorin, son of Thráin, son of Thrór, the King of Erebor, decides to yawn.

You both burst out in laughter, relieving the invisible tension between you.

On an impulse, you run your fingers through his hair, the soft ebony and silver strands pleasantly caressing your skin. He closes his eyes and lets out a satisfied purr. Yes, one of the things you learned about Thorin is that he absolutely adores being caressed this way, and right now, you don’t feel like stopping. When your fingers are tracing tiny circles against his scalp, you hear another purr, his eyelids drooping shut. With his mouth curved into a serene smile, his features relaxed, Thorin reminds you more of a large black wolf resting after a successful hunt than a king of a dwarven kingdom.

“I liked you in that dressing gown,” he murmurs sleepily after a while.

“Is that so?”

“You looked… cozy in it,” he lazily brushes his lips against yours and mumbles into your skin. “Relaxed. Homely. Sweet. Like a home-made apple pie.”

“Have you just compared me to a pie?” you chuckle. “My grandmother... used to bake... the best apple pies…” his voice trails off and then he lets out a small sigh.

“Are you asking for another dessert now?” you tease him, but the only answer you get from him is a lengthy hum, like that of a bear who has just eaten his fill of honey. Not a reply you expected. At this point his hands would eagerly roam your body, kindling the flames of passion, but instead you are enveloped in a soft embrace. Thorin Oakenshield has fallen asleep. Cuddling with you. What?! The King Under the Mountain does not cuddle. Think clearly, Ragna. You are seeing things you would like to see, things that are not there. There is nothing affectionate about this whole situation. It’s been a long day, you are both tired, and you have just eaten a large meal. Now it’s your turn to stifle a yawn.

You look at his peaceful face; not a single worry furrows his brow. Your fingers run through his hair again, eliciting a satisfied sigh out of the dwarf slumbering next to you. Is it you or is he smiling in his sleep?

He won’t know that, but you are smiling back at him and then you give him a quick peck on the tip of his nose, enjoying the warmth of his embrace. You completely miss the moment when your own eyes close and you are drifting off to sleep.

Sudden pounding on your door startles you out of your dreamless slumber. Oh, no! Not again!

You disentangle yourself from the bundle of limbs (oh, those strong arms of his!) and drag yourself out of bed. Thorin is still asleep, his dark wavy hair scattered across the pillows. One glance at the hourglass tells you it is after midnight.

The pounding repeats before you manage to reach the door. When you finally open it, you are greeted with a familiar scowl, a tattooed forehead, bushy red mane, thick red braids and a pair of wild boar tusks.

“We lost him! Lassie, he’s gone!” Lord Dain roars at you and you sigh inwardly once again. What is it with the line of Durin and roaring in the corridors at random times of the day?

“My lord? Who is gone?” you ask in confusion, blinking away the last shreds of sleep.

“My cousin! We lost the bloody king!” he roars again, waving his hands. “That bastard disappeared sometime in the afternoon! Vanished into thin air! There’s no trace of ‘im anywhere! Tell me, lassie, have ye seen ‘im?!”

You gulp, recalling king Thorin II Oakenshield’s unmoving figure currently laying in your bed, oblivious to the whole world around him.

“Well… There were the negotiations today…” you start.

“But afterwards, have ye seen ‘im later? He isn’t in your chambers now, is he?” he casts you a scrutinizing look.

“King Thorin? In my chambers?!” blood drains from your face at the thought that someone could discover your little secret.

“Do not get upset, lassie, I don’t mean anything by it!” he lowers his voice suddenly and winks. “I bet ye heard those rumors about ‘im having a mistress here, in the Iron Hills, but ye have nothing to worry about!”

“Rumors?” breathe, Ragna, breathe in, breathe out. Hold on to the door frame. “I’ve never heard any rumors!”

“Why do ye think he’s stalling so much with the negotiations? He’s as randy as a breeding bull, that’s what he is! If he wanted to, he would have closed the negotiations weeks ago, even if you’re just as stubborn as he is! Besides, he dismisses his servant for the night! He even started ordering his breakfast to be left at the doorstep to his room! Him! For as long as I’ve known that bloody oaf, he would always break his fast with everyone in the Main Hall!”

“Oh, I see…” You bite your lip hoping that Lord Dain has not yet realized that a while ago you started coming for breakfasts to the Main Hall suspiciously late, usually leaving Thorin’s quarters discreetly a few moments after the servant with the breakfast tray would knock on his door. That was another unspoken rule of yours. Breakfast belonged to the day, and your private negotiations with the king belonged to the night. It was better to keep these things apart. Neater.

“And I don’t blame him, the sly fox that he is!” Dain continues, clearly not noticing your growing distress, lowering his voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “My bonnie wife says the servants are gossiping about the sounds, ye know…” You stare at him. He winks at you. You frown.

“Don’t ye know about the sounds, lassie? By Mahal’s hammer! There are sounds coming from my dear cousin’s bedchambers at night. Every single night! Whoever that lady is, it sounds like she’s gettin’ a lot of attention from the king. Aye, and my wifey even said that the mysterious lady has gotten herself a nickname - the Night Singer,” he sniggers.

“How nice for the king. And that lady.” At this point you are as pale as the snowy top of Erebor in winter. You try to respond with a smile, but you suspect it looks more like a forced grimace.

“Ah, but it’s nothing to concern yerself with, lassie!” he pats your arm cordially. “Now, where was I. Ah. I need to find Thorin before Dis demands my feckin’ balls on a plate for losing her dearest brother.” “Yes. The king,” you answer faintly. Your fingers are clawing at the door frame and you are sure you have left some deep marks there already.

“The last person to see ‘im claims that they saw Thorin shoutin’ and bangin’ at yer door late in the afternoon,” Dain explains apologetically. Yes, of course. It doesn’t surprise you at all. As soon as you get rid of Dain, you are going to do something very, very bad to the king, seriously. “Ah yes, his majesty stopped by here,” you choose your words carefully, trying to rein in your fury. “There were some errors in the treaty that needed to be corrected.”

“Ha!” Lord Dain claps his thigh in triumph, and a spark lights up in his eyes. “And?”

“And the king is not here,” you say, glancing quickly at the armchair in your study. The Raven Crown is proudly sitting on top of it. Technically, you are not too far from the truth. The dwarf who is sleeping in your bed is not Thorin the King.

“Of course, lassie, of course! I see that now!” Dain waves his hand. “No king in here!”

“Is there anything else I can help you with, Lord Dain?” you move to the door, wanting to close it as soon as possible.

“I need to know what happened with him!” “Do you think I know?” you ask innocently, hoping that your brain will finally start working and come up with some kind of a clever plan. Damn the king and his unexpected visit. He’s sleeping like an innocent child in your bedroom and you are here, trying to wiggle your way out of this mess. You hadn’t signed up for this!

“Come on lassie, did he tell you where he was going? Did he?” Dain insists, taking a step towards you and towards the threshold. If he thinks you’re going to let him inside your rooms, he is mistaken.

“He left my study and… we were talking. He spoke about how he liked traveling in the mountains, and then…” you clear your throat. Damn it. You have just run out of ideas.

“I knew it!” the lord of the Iron Hills exclaims, his fist swinging in the air. “I knew it! That cunning mountain goat! He has probably gone on one his stupid brooding walks again! Half of the guards are searching for ‘im and he’s somewhere outside the city! Let me get my hands on ‘im! And on my guards for letting him pass unnoticed!” he roars like a wounded wild boar and before you can react to his outburst, he runs down the corridor, his shouts echoing behind him.

You slam the door and turn the key in the lock. You have enough for one day. And then you hear that deep, seductive, purring voice behind you.

“The Night Singer…” Thorin’s massive body is leaning against the door frame, his powerful arms folded across his chest. Not only is he smirking, but also looking delicious, his hair slightly unruly, his disheveled tunic showing a glimpse of his impressive chest dusted with dark hair. Doesn’t any dwarven law forbid looking so scrumptious? Damn this king. He is getting an earful. Now.

“So, you heard it?”

“I hear it every night, my nightingale,” now there is a mischievous glint in his eyes too. This infuriating goat of a king! Argh!

“ARGH!” you exclaim in a very ladylike manner. “Did you hear what your cousin said?!”

“It was hard not to,” he shrugs nonchalantly.

“Well then?!” you rest your fists on your hips. “Is it true?!”

“Your singing…?” he smirks again. Why does he have to be such a tease right now?!

“Answer me! Am I the reason you are taking so long with these blasted negotiations?” you ask him, not sure if you really want to know the answer. He hates negotiations, you are sure of it, and yet he decided to continue them for so long...

“I could ask you the same question, Ragna,” he rumbles with an infuriating calmness in his voice. And with a smirk. Of course.

Extremely annoying. Impossibly arrogant. Overconfident. So full of himself. You find plenty of polite and impolite words to describe him in that very moment, but none of them would make a proper answer. Face it, you are at loss of words. You stomp your foot instead.

“Do you really think so low of me and my intelligence, Ragna? Do you think I haven’t noticed anything? What I want from this agreement is to finalize that last clause. If you wish so, I can dictate all my conditions to you now, line by line, and we can sign the papers tomorrow. Is that what you want, Ragna?” his eyes darken, his features hardening, reminding you of the stone statues you saw in Erebor. “Now I can ask you the same question: is that what you want, Thorin? If so, you can expect my whole list of conditions on your desk in an hour.” “So soon,” he grunts, clearly unamused. “I can write really fast if I want to,” you retort.

“You can be really fast with many things, Ragna. And yet you are deliberately choosing to be slow in this matter,” he takes a step towards you. As he towers over you, it feels as if a storm cloud has just covered the sun. A shiver runs through your body.

“I simply follow the lead of my king,” you say, staring intently at him. You withstood several storms in your life. You’re not going to budge. Not now.

Thorin the King closes the distance between you and lowers his face to yours.

“Then you will have to follow your king’s lead one more time,” he murmurs huskily, coldly, his lips dangerously close to yours, his breath burning your cheek. And then his hand lifts your chin so that you meet his gaze. “I will have all the documents on my desk on the day after tomorrow. All of them. Is that understood, Lady Ragna?”

You swallow and press your lips in a thin line.

“If this is what your majesty orders,” you can’t look away now, you can only hope your emotions aren’t reflected in your eyes. Your stupid heart is beating so ridiculously fast, as if a stampede of ponies was running through your chest.

“Very well. And now, Lady Ragna,” his lips brush against yours, you feel how prickly his beard is. Oh, Mahal, have mercy on you! This is not a good time to melt into a puddle at his feet! You dig your nails into your skin. You want to kiss him so badly, to ravish him on the spot, to show him how much you care about his ridiculous orders, but you need to snap out of this maddening haze.

His lips brush against yours once more, his hand leaves your chin, and his index finger is burning a trail along the line of your neck, down to your cleavage, only to stop at the hem of your dress. His touch is enough to make your nipples stiffen with need.

“Now, Lady Ragna, I bid you goodnight.”

His enthralling lips suddenly disappear along with the touch of his hands and the heat of his body. You are standing in your corridor, cold and yearning, breathing rapidly, your whimper echoing in the air, long after he has left your chambers.

* * *

The Masterlist Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 ...

Please let me know how you liked it! Do you want me to continue with this story?

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[minswriting]

DIE WITH A SMILE - SPENCER REID X READER

About: You and Spencer are dancing in his living room and you think about the way you fell for him.

Warnings: fluff!! mentions of spencer’s addiction, getting shot, migraines, etc. takes place in season 7 heehee. not proof read yet again because once i finish writing, im DONE lol

Word Count: 1.5k

A/N: Based off of Die With A Smile by Lady Gaga and Bruno Mars. Border made by @esote-rika !! Please comment and reblog with your thoughts!

Ooh

I, I just woke up from a dream

Where you and I had to say goodbye

And I don't know what it all means

But since I survived, I realized

The soft tune of a song filled the apartment with a soothing hum. You were standing in the middle of Spencer’s living room, swaying as Spencer held you close to him. One hand in yours, the other wrapped around your waist while your other hand rested on Spencer’s shoulder. It was romantic, to say the least. The dim lighting of the lamp standing in the corner created the perfect atmosphere.

Nothing was spoken between either of you as you looked at one another. Nothing had to be spoken. Words were meaningless when it came to the emotions you felt for each other. Years of friendship, years of companionship, years of pining for the other until one day, it all came to fruition.

You joined the BAU a year after Spencer. Being the same age and of similar intellect, it was easy to form a friendship. You never judged him for his incessant rambling, always smiling and listening to him with your full attention. Just as he never judged you when you went on about the latest gossip in pop culture. And when you were both paired up on cases? Well, you were a duo that couldn’t be outmatched.

It was inevitable that you ended up falling for the genius doctor. With his fun little quirks, the way he got so excited over random topics, how he was so passionate about his work. But what had really sealed the deal for you was his loyalty and commitment to the team.

There were countless nights when you’d show up to his apartment after a really hard case, crying because of anxiety. And Spencer would take you in with open arms, consoling you until you’ve cried it out. He always ordered your favorite take out afterwards and you’d eat ice cream together.

Wherever you go, that’s where I’ll follow

Nobody’s promised tomorrow

So I’ma love you every night like it’s the last night

Like it’s the last night

Spencer smiled at you, his beautiful amazing smile that never failed to put butterflies in your stomach. And you, of course, smiled back. He spun you around, causing you to laugh as you both continued swaying. “You have the prettiest laugh,” Spencer murmured, still grinning as he held you again.

“And you have the prettiest smile,” You replied, tilting your head with a loving gaze in your eyes.

Spencer couldn’t help the small laugh that left his lips as his cheeks reddened from your words. The two of you have been dating for a year now and yet, you still make that man blush.

As you danced together, you thought about the two of you over the years. You realized you liked Spencer early on. Perhaps you fell first, you didn’t really know.

After the whole fiasco with Tobias Hankle, you knew something was wrong with Spencer. At first you had assumed it was simply trauma, needing to work through the fact that he had been kidnapped. However, the irritability, the shakiness, the unkempt look of his appearance mixed with the fact that you noticed he hadn’t been eating. That’s how you knew that Spencer was suffering from more than just trauma. And when you walked in on him in the bathroom one day, shooting a needle into his arm, it was safe to say your assumption was right.

That day you got him the help he needed without the Bureau knowing that it was happening. You didn’t want to risk Spencer’s position but you also knew he couldn’t keep ruining his body. You had cried to Spencer, telling him that you couldn’t fathom a world without him if things were to go incredibly wrong, as addictions usually do. So you guys did things privately to ensure he was okay. That was the day you realized just how much you cared for Spencer, even if you didn’t know it was love quite yet.

If the world was ending, I’d wanna be next to you

If the party was over and our time on Earth was through

I’d wanna hold you just for a while and die with a smile

If the world was ending, I’d wanna be next to you

Ooh

The second time you realized how much you cared for Spencer was when he got shot in the leg. You knew it wasn’t fatal as it was just his knee. But you were still worried, nonetheless. You were the first one to visit Spencer in the hospital. Everyone else had immediately gone to Hotch after finding out that he had been stabbed by Foyet. Maybe you should’ve been a bit more worried about your boss, maybe you should’ve seen him first. And yet, all you cared about was the fact that Spencer had been shot.

That was the first time you allowed yourself to admit you were in love with Spencer even if you didn’t tell him.

The way you guys got together was a bit unconventional. Spencer had been having a prolonged period of migraines, strengthened by the stress of a schizophrenic break, well, it wasn’t a happy period to say the least. He hadn’t admitted to anyone that he was having migraines, wanting to keep it to himself. But you, being the beautiful and amazing best friend that you were, knew he was suffering from a headache of sorts with his sensitivity to light and loud noises.

And so, after a particularly easy case, you had gone to Spencer’s with two different bags in your hand. One was just takeout from this Indian food place that you knew Spencer adored. And the other was a bag from the pharmacy which included pain killers, a cold pack, vitamin c, and other things you knew that helped with migraines.

Spencer had answered the door wearing TARDIS pajama pants and a black t-shirt, wearing fuzzy slippers on his feet, and his hair was all over the place. His eyes were sunken in with even darker circles around them, eyebrows furrowed from the light. He had clearly just woken up from a nap.

“What are you-“ Spencer began to ask, his voice hoarse from sleep.

You interrupted him, keeping your tone soft so as to not cause any more pain for him. “I brought you some food,” You said, giving Spencer a small smile. “And I’ve noticed you’ve been having pain so I brought you some stuff that could help.”

Who was Spencer to say no?

The night had been spent in mostly silence, eating on Spencer’s couch with little conversation. And eventually, it ended with Spencer’s head in your lap, a cold pack on his eyes, while your fingers moved through his messy hair, massaging his scalp. It was a peacefulness that you only ever got with Spencer. You were taking care of him and the quiet didn’t feel awkward whatsoever.

Eventually, Spencer broke the silence with a sentence that changed the dynamic between the two of you forever. “I love you,” he whispered, scared to use his voice. He had been so quiet. Had it not already been so silent, you could’ve missed it. But you didn’t.

Those three words caused you to stop your movements in his hair as you looked down at Spencer. He removed the cold pack from his eyes, looking up at you. “What?” You asked, furrowing your eyebrows, as though you had mistaken what Spencer had said.

This time, he didn’t hesitate. “I love you,” Spencer said, his voice more clear this time.

“I-I love you too,” You had responded, heart fluttering in your chest from Spencer’s simple confession. It didn’t need to be this big, emotional ordeal.

That night, you guys found a new way to alleviate migraines.

Oh, lost, lost in the words that we scream

I don't even wanna do this anymore

'Cause you already know what you mean to me

And our love's the only war worth fighting for

Wherever you go, that's where I'll follow

Nobody's promised tomorrow

So I'ma love you every night like it's the last night

Like it's the last night

And now, here you were, laughing and smiling as you moved in sync with Spencer in his living room. In a silly moment, you moved your arm so you could spin Spencer around, causing him to laugh and do so. Nothing else mattered between the two of you. Your love for each other went above anything. You will always protect him just as he’d always protect you.

If today was your last day on Earth, you’d die the happiest woman alive because you’d die knowing you got to be in love with the world’s most amazing and intelligent man.

[callme-holly]

hi! i hope you are doing well! <3

can i plz get a dallas winston fic where dallas is being really sweet (like teeth rotting sweet) and he takes her out shopping and such and the day ends with them cuddling in bed <3

���𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐟𝐚𝐜𝐞 [𝐝𝐚𝐥𝐥��𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐧 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫]

a/n: I LOVE THIS STOP IT

The day has been nothing short of wonderful, a good end to the week, a good way to wind down and forget about everything for a few hours. You’d never expected Dallas to agree to the idea, not in a million years, but when he’d agreed to take you shopping, to carry your bags despite his grumbling, something inside of you had melted. He'd tried to pretend like he hated the day, that every single second of his was a drag and nothing short of torture, but you hadn't missed the occasional smile he let slip, the gentle look in his eyes as he watched you throw garments of clothing into the basket, practically skipping to the changing rooms. He'd enjoyed himself; you know that much.

And now he was reclined back against your headboard, watching with an amused smile as you showed him every single thing you'd bought, giving him a fashion show even though he'd been there for every single purchase. He didn't argue, didn't ignore you or turn you away, just let you do your thing.

"What do you think?" you asked, turning to face him suddenly, arms outstretched. His eyes roamed over your figure, taking in the way your new dress hugged your curves, the colour complementing you perfectly; you looked like something straight out of a magazine, and he loved it.

"Give us a spin, angel..." he drawled, motioning for you to turn; you did so, the skirt swirling around you in a way that had his heart stuttering and his breath hitching. He let out a groan, running a hand through his hair, nodding in appreciation as you slowed to a stop, grinning despite yourself.

"Is that a yes?" 

"Of course it is, darling." 

You stepped towards him, letting his hands take purchase on your hips, his thumb rough against the delicate lace as he traced idly patterns against it. The look in his eyes was something akin to the way a starved man would eye a meal, desperate for more.

Your fingers card through his hair, gripping at the strands in a teasing manner that you knew all too well would rile him up, and judging from the way his expression darkened, his jaw tensing, you were right.

 He pulled you close against his body, kissing you hungrily in a bid to get your attention, tongue flicking across your bottom lip, demanding entrance. Your arms snaked around his neck, letting yourself fall into his lap, the fabric of your dress flowing out like waves around the two of you.

For a moment, neither of you spoke, simply trading heated, passionate kisses, both of you too wrapped up in one another to care about anything else. It wasn't until you were forced back to breathe that a small laugh escaped you; you let your head fall to the crook of his neck, loving the way his scent, all leather and smoke, seemed to wrap around you. 

"What's so funny?" He huffed, resting his chin atop your head, leaning back and pulling you with him so that you were settled comfortably on his chest. 

You shook your head, looking up at him through your lashes, cheeks tinted pink, lips swollen and red. “Just you…” You mumbled, cupping his jaw. “You’re so desperate…” 

“Desperate?” He scoffed, rolling his eyes. “Please, doll. Any man would be desperate if they were in my position.” 

Butterflies erupted in your stomach, fluttering wildly and causing your heart to race. Something about the way he said it, the way his voice was gruff and a few octaves lower than usual, made you feel almost giddy with want. 

“Don’t tease, Dal.” You sighed happily, nuzzling into his neck like a cat begging for attention. 

Dallas huffed a laugh, the sound rumbling in his chest and you let out a quiet whine in response, shifting in his lap to get more comfortable.  The only sounds you could hear for a while were his heartbeat and the soft, pleasant rumble of his voice, which you couldn’t seem to bring yourself to pull away from just yet, feeling too relaxed and comforted to move. 

"This colour looks so good on you, you know that?" He pulls away, brushing a strand of hair back from your face, his brows raised. "If this is how shopping with you ended, I might take you up on the offer more often..." 

He laughed when you swatted at his chest, capturing your hand in his larger, rougher one, his scarred fingers lacing with yours. The cool metal from his rings pressed into your skin, making goosebumps prickle along your arms. 

"You better watch yourself, lover boy." You warned him, but he knew just what he was doing, just how easily he could make you melt without even trying.

"I'm ain’t doin’ wrong, baby. Just admiring my girl."  He grinned, bringing your hand to his mouth. He placed a feather-light kiss along your knuckles before releasing your hand. He pressed his forehead against yours, and you braced yourself for another cocky, playful comment. However, you paused when you noticed the gentle look in his eye, the way his whole expression softened.

"You look perfect. Seriously." 

He kissed you gently, slow and deliberate, and you let him because you weren't quite sure how to respond to something like that. So you just  sat, allowing yourself to sink deeper into this warmth, sinking further into his lap, his chest rising and falling beneath you. You let your fingers trace patterns into his shoulders as he peppered your face with kisses, humming contentedly against your lips, and for the first time Dallas Winston was quiet, silenced by the pure perfection of the girl in his lap. 

[judesmoonbeauty]

Lover's Contract: Jude Jazza - Bitter END

This is a fan translation only. Please expect grammatical errors and translation inaccuracies. This is a full translation. Creative liberties are taken for characterization and smoother translation process. Cybird owns everything. Re-blogs are appreciated, but please do not post my translation elsewhere. Thank you for your support! ☾.

This is the balcony of the lover’s club.

From here, overlooking the harbor across the street, we could see the ships at anchor.

With binoculars, you can even see the passengers boarding the ship…..

Kate: Ah! I’ve found the targets on the ship’s deck.

Jude: Lemme see.

Jude gazes out at the large passenger ship with the binoculars he stole.

Jude: Looks like they’ll ship off fine.

Just then, the steam whistle echoes and the ship leaves the pier.

Eventually, it disappeared like it was being swallowed by the boundary of where the sky and sea melt into each other.

Kate: They’re gone.

Jude: Let’s go back, ‘fore the princess gets carried away by the mood o’ the club ‘n goes into heat.

Kate: Hey…..I’m NOT in heat or anything!

Jude: Really. Can ya promise ya weren’t thinkin’ somethin’ lewd even once?

Kate: Well, I…..

(I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t excited by the club’s atmosphere….)

Jude: ….Pff- such a liar.

Kate: Nmm….Mmn.

The sudden kiss instantly robbed me of my thoughts -

Jude: Since ya lied ‘n really were thinkin’ indecent things, I’ll hafta punish ya.

My neck gets nipped and a tiny pain runs through me.

It’s a little similar to the feeling of Jude biting my skin when we make love.

Kate: Mnmm.

Jude: Whaddaya feelin’.

My cheeks flushed when I noticed his exasperated gaze.

Jude: Hah -

Kate: Hey, don’t leave me behind. It’d be better if you just insulted me.

Jude: Yeah, then I’ll insult ya later. ‘Til the perverted princess’s had ‘er fill.

Kate: Who’s the pervert??

Jude: Only other person here.

Kate: Oh, come on!

— The next morning, after being thoroughly insulted by Jude on the way home, we returned to Crown Castle.

Ellis: Kate, how’d the lover’s club mission go?

As I sat down to breakfast, I was greeted with a refreshing smile that seemed to erase my memories of the previous day.

Kate: Thanks being concerned, Ellis.

Kate: There were some close calls, but the mission wrapped up safely.

(I was anxious when the targets were on the verge of breaking up.)

Ellis: Was it dangerous? Did they discover you monitoring them?

Roger: Ellis.

Suddenly, Roger taps his neck with his fingers.

When Ellis noticed the gesture —

Ellis: Ohhh…..so that’s what it was.

He smiled like he just realized something, and then Roger and Ellis exchanged a cheerful looks.

Ellis: I’m glad it’s not what I thought it was.

Kate: U-Umm….what are you both talking about?

Roger: Trying to pretend that you didn’t see it, but it’s backfiring, lil’ lady.

Kate: I’ve no clue of what you’re talking about?

Roger: I’m surprised you thought you could get away with sporting a love bite on your neck.

Kate: A love bite?! Where’s a love bite?

Ellis: It’s on your neck, Kate.

(My neck….Ohh, then)

(Where Jude nipped me last night?)

Suddenly embarrassed, I rush to cover my neck with my hands.

Kate: Seriously, it’s just because Jude was doing something weird.

Roger: Oh, so you admit it.

Ellis: So, it was Jude who did it after all.

Jude: ……Dunno.

Kate: Hey, it’s not fair for you to play dumb. You put it there, Jude!

Jude: Don’t tell each other’s secrets. One o’ the three lover’s rules t’keep, innit?

Kate: B-But still! If this keeps up, people going misunderstand.

Jude: Thanks fer breakfast.

Kate: Ah, Jude!

Without clearing up the misunderstanding, Jude got up and left.

Roger: [Whistles], a lover’s spat first thing in the morning. How passionate.

Ellis: The two of you really are so close. I’m glad you’re happier too.

Surrounded by Roger’s and Ellis’ beaming smiles, I just couldn’t bear it….

Kate: I’m-I’m thankful for breakfast too!

Roger: Oh - she ran off.

Ellis: Don’t tease her too much, Roger.

I hurriedly put my plate down in kitchen, and rushed out of the dining room…..

(Ah.)

I spotted Jude at the end of the corridor, who had just left, and I chased after him.

Kate: Jude, because of you there’s a misunderstanding!

Jude: It’s fine.

(What?)

When he turned around, he had a large smirk on his face…..

Before I could raise my voice, he hugs me tightly, and touches the love bite from yesterday with his lips.

Kate: …..[Gasp] Mmn.

He sucks so hard on my skin, that I involuntarily flinched.

Jude: Wasn’t no misunderstandin’. So it’s fine.

The back of my neck where Jude’s lips had touched felt hot.

(It’s not a misunderstanding….It’s a real kiss mark.)

Jude: ‘Sides, if we’re lovers there ain’t any misunderstandin’ or shit.

Not to be confused with the “aijin” as in “an unofficial/adulterous” relationship. Jude is using “koibito” as in "Lover’s/sweethearts/boyfriend & girlfriend.” I could’ve said bf & gf, but this him being cheeky because the prior night they were pretending to be in an unofficial relationship.

Jude chuckled and then turned around.

(Hey…)

As I reached for my neck, which suddenly flushed, Jude glanced back at me and laughed teasingly.

[Event Master List]

Jude is having so much fun with his Kate! And poor Kate, she was so flustered that she had to have Ellis repeat where the love bite was. It's funny because I remember her telling Jude that he isn't good at handling those situations in his BD event, but it seems the opposite is true lmao.

Tag List: @sh0jun @theimaginativelyreticent @sapphire-323 @velisle @nateko @greatwitchsongsinger @injudescoat @aeyumicore @complexivelovely @yuoi-the-magnificent @husbandosandladders @cosmowgyral @lunaaka @rosalyne08 @8the-perfect-lie8 @voydsoul @goustmilk @kraiyne @midnightsrunaway @nawlink

If you wish to be added (and 18+ YO), or removed from my translations tag list, please let me know!

[madridfangirl]

Star crossed lovers (Jude Bellingham fic)

Chapter 20

(Series Link)

Jude * female reader. Mature Language in parts.

Synopsis: A chance encounter in a tiny Madrid cafe with the newest superstar of her fav club. The two couldn't be more different, yet both feel the pull toward the other. Would this girl be the one he finally falls for? Or would life come in the way of these star-crossed lovers?

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

Love. Oh, what a wonderfully intoxicating feeling it was.

Jude had never been in love before. Having another person so deeply influence your happiness, peace and centre of gravity was an alien feeling at first. But eventually, as the months passed, he got so addicted to the highs that the lows were well worth it. Six months into their relationship, being with her had become second nature to Jude. At times, the attachment scared him too, especially when she wasn’t around and he missed her like hell, but one hug from her was all the balm he needed. Mostly, he was glowing under her love.

Ananya had been in love before. But this felt different - deeper, more passionate, more intense, more consuming. And definitely far higher stakes. The doubts of their complicated situation never really left her, not fully. Especially on some tough nights when their realities came to a head. But Jude had a way of pulling her back to him every single time. All her worries tended to wash away under his smile, his puppy eyes, his constant reassurances, his heartfelt praises and proclamations of love. Even her worst fears were losing to the depth of his feelings. He had well & truly shattered almost all the walls she had built around herself. And made his way into her heart, mind, soul and body. Claiming them all decisively. Making her his, and keeping her as his. And boy had he swept her off her feet.

Roma and Jobe had front row seats to their journey, serving as external voices of reason when they were too drowned in each other to realise what was happening.

‘You’re practically living together now, you see that right?’

‘What? That’s rubbish.’

Ananya dismissed the thought immediately, going back to her Wordle. Roma and her were plopped on her bed, enjoying a lazy Saturday afternoon after ages. Jude was out of town for an away game.

‘Yeah? Let’s see.’

Roma got up from the bed with purpose. Something about her tone & stride making Ananya put her phone down & take notice.

She opened Ananya’s cupboard and pointed at one full cabinet stuffed with Jude’s things.

‘It’s just for convenience, so he doesn’t throw things around the room.’

‘Hmm.’

Roma went to the adjoining washroom, carrying out one basket filled with Jude’s toiletries. It was bigger than Ananya’s.

‘You know how he is. If he doesn’t find the specific product he’d bring the house down or send Agnes scampering for it. Just for conve…’

‘…convenience you say? Sure. I’m guessing your stuff would be in his room too, for convenience?’

‘….yeah.’

‘And that particular brand of sugarless pancake batter in the kitchen, those cereals that taste like mud, all that healthy vegan crap that you & I hate, is there for convenience too?’

Ananya averted her eyes, unsure of what to say. Or feel.

‘When he’s not here, you’re there. If you both are in Madrid and have time on your hands, you’re always joined at the hip. That’s called living together.’

Realisation set in for Ananya, followed by panic. She grabbed Roma’s hand & pulled her to the bed.

‘Is this…wrong?’

Roma’s tone softened immediately, looking at her friend’s state, knowing that the point had hit home.

‘Why should it be wrong? But it’s serious. And intense. And maybe a bit faster than what I would have done. But hey, to each his own yeah? Just want you to be aware that you’re in deep waters now, my friend. And maybe you should talk to Jude about it.’

Ananya nodded aimlessly. The idea of talking to Jude about this was unnerving. The dreaded conversation of where they were and where it was heading and if they were moving too fast. So she put it on the back burner for now, letting things unfold at their own pace.

Similarly, Jobe was amused to see his erstwhile ‘player’ brother turn more & more into what he called a ‘lovesick puppy.’

‘Say what now?’

‘You heard me.’

‘What do you know? You’re practically a child.’

‘I’m 18, bro.’

‘Exactly.’

‘More relationship experience than you. Just saying.’

‘Teenage relationship.’

‘Still counts.’

‘Whatever, you’re wrong.’

‘Yeah? So you didn’t discard last event’s outfit, custom-made by your stylist, just coz your girlfriend didn’t like it?’

‘She’s got taste. Picked me, yeah? So what if I listen to her opinion sometimes?’

‘What happened to having ‘uniquely distinct fashion choices that others are too stupid to understand’? At least that used to be the house line?’

‘She’s not others.’

‘Precisely my point.’

‘You have no point.’

‘Whipped.’

‘Shut up you loon.’

‘So you’re saying keeping the beard was your choice?’

The beard had been a sore point between Jude & Ananya. She liked him in the goatee but when he graduated to a beard she was thrilled. She had never been a fan of facial hair but she claimed that the beard suited Jude so so much. Plus she found it super sexy, which Jude always cashed in when he needed to. When he randomly moved back to the goatee one fine day, she just looked him up & down & didn’t kiss him like she used to. Didn’t wrap her arms around his neck when he kissed her, like she used to. That night, she didn’t deny him his tumble but didn’t doll up for him like she used to. He got the message, without her saying a word. He kept pestering her if she didn’t like it and she said it should be his choice. She shouldn’t have a say here. But he knew it was bullshit. She obviously had a preference and this was a passive aggressive way of showing it. Jude complained that it was discrimination and she was indirectly influencing his choice by using her sexuality. She retorted that she hadn’t denied him in any way that night and he shot back saying that she hadn’t invited him either, like she used to, especially after a difficult away game where he scored the winner. This half-hearted passion was unlike what they were accustomed to. The spark, the heat was not the same, coz she was not the same. And she simply said she couldn’t help it since she was ‘mourning his beard.’ Jude wanted to turn around and call her over-dramatic but decided not to, choosing to play the long game & not get kicked to the couch.

Her reaction to a clean-shaven look was far worse. Jude had to do it for a shoot and she refused to be anywhere near him, saying he looked like a child and she didn’t want any funny business when he had that babyface. She even tried to put a pillow between them when they went to bed, which Jude had to practically wrestle away. No amount of whining, cajoling or begging from him made her budge. That night, Jude realised he was in love with someone who could be as obstinate as him when she wanted to.

In an unfortunate moment, he had shared all this with his useless brother. 

‘Never telling you anything else from now on.’

‘Pls you’ll die without babbling to me.’

‘Oh fuck off.’

Jobe ignored that completely. 

‘Gonna change the trim too?’

Jude sighed. She didn’t like his hair too finely cut on the sides, said he looked bald under that hat. But net net she loved the overall trim. So he had decided to stand his ground here & keep the sides as is.

‘None of your fucking business.’

‘Gotta give her her flowers though - not a mean thing to have THE JUDE BELLINGHAM wrapped around her little finger.’

‘Should I tell her you said that?’

‘Go ahead. She’s cool & she adores me.’

‘Then why being a dick with me?’

‘Coz it’s fun. And you’re too thick to see it on your own.’

‘Bye now.’

Jude did see what he meant; his brother had used those words just to tease him. And he needed Jobe to show him that mirror at times, like he had done to make Jude realise his feelings for her in the first place. Yes Jude had fallen deep, he could see it well & clear now. But the perks of this phase he was in far outweighed any minor inconveniences. They meant nothing when she smiled & embraced him with so much affection that he could practically feel his heart burst with warmth. Much to his own surprise, he was loving being in love.

However, the relationship had not been a bed of roses, like any other couple.

The pressure of his job was not easy to deal with. Jude & his family still had 4+ years to get used to this limelight & stress, yet even for them Madrid had been astronomically different. Ananya never imagined or wished for such a life, so it was even harder for her.

When the weight of the world was on his shoulders before a big game or a big event in his professional life, she felt the burden too. When all eyes turned on him, trying to tear him apart for some behaviour or the other, or for a red/yellow card (sometimes undeserved), she felt the sting too. 

When his injuries took a toll on his body, she felt the pain too. The shoulder & ankle ones had been particularly brutal - he had to miss matches, undergo intrusive treatments and sulk on the couch while his team carried on without him. Finding a balance between understanding his situation & comforting him had been tricky - Jude had flipped out on a few such occasions when she had tried to tell him it was ok. Coz it was anything but that for him. Later, he did apologise (after silent treatments from her) for taking out his frustration on her but she realised this was not sustainable & they had to find a solution.

With time, she was getting a better handle on his moods. When he wanted to be reassured - with comforting words or warm hugs. When he wanted to just be left alone. When it was better for his mother or brother to handle the situation instead. When he just needed company and wanted to sort out his head on his own, while laying on her chest and playing with the hem of her top absentmindedly. When he needed a mindless carnal release, as an outlet for his stress, which she allowed because generally their intimacy wasn’t mindless. He was a complicated man, under severe pressure, so she gave him a fair bit of leeway. 

She had also learnt to not offer unsolicited advice on his game too much, which sometimes she was tempted to do as an ardent fan. She might disagree with his brashness or arrogance on the pitch at times but that’s what made him him. Without that earth-shattering confidence, he would not be a galactico at Madrid at 20. So she only shared her POV on these things when he specifically asked her, or when she felt things were going overboard. Jude once told her that’s exactly how Denise treated him as well, though his Mum was probably more gentle in her interventions while Ananya took him to the cleaners at times, saying he needed that.

Jude recognised that she did more in finding this balance between them than he did, and that she could have easily stayed on the sidelines and not be so emotionally invested in his professional highs or lows. But she did it out of love. 

He loved her love for football and Madrid. Loved discussing & watching games with her, like he did with his family, teammates & friends from back home. Well, mostly. Sometimes he wished she didn’t understand as much and would be that girlfriend who just fawns over him unconditionally, no matter what he did. ‘Go find yourself a clueless bimbo then’ was her instant response when he joked about it once. Coz she was never going to be that & she made sure he understood that damn well. 

Jude had also realised that while he could often take a lot of liberties with her, and she’d let him, but when she drew a firm line it was set it stone. He didn’t tease her or mess with her when she got in such zones or such moods, which were rare but not too rare also. 

Work and family were two such no-go areas. She had no sense of humour when it came to those. If she was talking with her folks back home or on a work-call, even late-night, that space was sacrosanct and she did not like any histrionics there. Jude had spent a few nights laying next to her, waiting for her to wrap up work, but sometimes it spilled over & he had to go to bed unfulfilled. She’d feel guilty, offer to work from the living room so it doesn’t disturb him but he’d tell her he’d rather sleep with her next to him than be alone. 

Her family still didn’t know about him, barring one cousin, who was quite ambivalent about him being in her sister’s life. So he was absolutely not allowed to yap from behind if she was calling home. Jude didn’t understand why it was so sensitive for her; she was an independent 20 year old adult living far away from home. She had tried to explain how India was culturally different from how Jude had grown up. Her family was not conservative, not by any means, but even then, being in a relationship with a) a non-Indian and b) a high-profile footballer would be a massive shock for them and it needed to be dealt with carefully/gradually. 

Another touchy topic for her was anything perceived to be threatening her individuality / independence. 

One morning, sprawled on her bed, Jude had half-jokingly cribbed about the dress she had put on, calling it too distracting for work. It wasn’t revealing or anything, that wasn’t her style, but it was well fitted and complimented her figure beautifully. Ananya thought it was aesthetic and Jude just wanted to rip it off. The way she had swirled around and told him he had no business telling her what she was supposed to be wearing, Jude would never forget that look. He had immediately raised both hands in surrender, trying to explain it was a silly joke, but boy she had been pissed that day. It took Jude a while to recover from that fiasco. 

Another faux-pas he had walked into was when she took a rare girls night with Roma and a few colleagues from work. The couple had narrowly missed each other a few times that week so Jude was more than disappointed when she told him she was out instead of coming over to his. He had half-expected to see her at his place when he returned late from a shoot; sometimes she surprised him like that. 

‘Oh baby, I’ll see you soon, promise.’

She had slurred on the line when he called her, half-drunk. 

‘I needed you today. I thought you’d be here today.’

‘I wanted to see you too. But I didn’t know when you were getting done. And we were trying to get together for over a month, tonight was the first time all of us had a window. So came for a movie & now dinner.’

‘But what about us? What about me?’

‘Soon, promise.’

‘Will you come tonight?’

‘Jude, I can’t just take off on my friends like this.’

‘Why the hell not?’

The sheer entitlement & frustration in his voice set her off, like she owed him all her time. Oh the gall of him.

‘I’m not gonna be at your beck and call whenever you need me. I thought you understood that.’

‘Excuse me?’

‘You heard me. I wanted to dress up & let my hair down & dine at a fancy place & not be cooped up in the house for a change.’

That felt like a harsh slap in the face. She could have done all those things with him. He could have taken her to the fanciest of places, anywhere in the world, if only she’d let him.

‘Cooped up in the house yeah? Who’s that because of?’

Her. It was because of her. She didn’t want to go public with him, wasn’t ready for all the drama. Not yet. He knew why. He knew it very well. So she was stunned when he weaponised that & threw it in her face.

‘I’m not your fucking property, Jude. If you wanna act like a child, be my guest. But you better watch your tone when you talk to me.’

She hung up, and Jude stared at the phone, not knowing what hit him. When his anger subsided (took a while) and he revisited the conversation in his head, he grudgingly understood where he had fucked up. She didn’t react like this when he wanted to chill with his teammates or have a boys night with his lads from back home. So he really didn’t have a leg to stand on here. Plus he could have done better with his tone. But he missed her. He just missed her like hell.

All night, her phone kept buzzing with messages, and she knew who it was from but she didn’t spare it a look, not for a few hours.

‘Sorry.’

‘Missing you.’

‘Didn’t mean it like that.’

‘Talk to me for a min? Just wanna hear your voice.’

‘Pls don’t be mad.’

‘Love you.’ 

‘Ping me once?’

She let him suffer that night, before going back to his place the next day. They made up, like they always did, tangled in the sheets. And Jude learnt a very important lesson - she would give him the sun & the moon if he appealed to her love for him, if he asks nicely. Respect, chivalry and understanding were the keys to unlock her, not confrontation or domination. Well, domination worked sometimes too, but she needed to be in the zone for it.

And they found that zone quite often. Intimacy and passion was at the heart of their relationship.

Jude loved exploring with her. Pushing her boundaries bit by bit. Breaking down her walls gradually but decisively. Uncovering layers to their intimacy. Cataloguing all the breathless sounds she made for him. The way her eyes rolled back in their socket as she writhed under him. Every little twitch of her face, the frenzied moves of her body. Her total and absolute surrender to him was intoxicating - like a rare, potent, lethally erotic drug. Every time he had her, it spurred him on to have more. He just couldn’t get enough of her.

He was also a shameless flirt, which he never denied or shied away from. Always checking her out, never in dearth of lines to use.

‘Thinking of those tiny blue shorts that flaunt your ass.’

‘Get some rest now. Gonna binge on your minge when I get home.’

She was used to these messages out of nowhere, and him invading her personal space without any prior warning.

Ananya was shocked to discover how much she wanted him too. The thrill she felt every time he touched her. How he had mapped all her sensitive spots & played them like a fiddle. The way his beard tickled & teased her skin. She could read his intent well now - through his deeply expressive eyes, the way his voice turned huskier when he was in the mood, how his hands wandered on her body or slipped under her clothes, how his lips lingered on her skin for a few extra seconds, his his breath grazed her neck, and sometimes even by the tone of his texts. She could tell if it was going to be a long & slow kinda night or a rough, rapid, intense bout where she’d need to hide the marks next day. Much to her surprise, she looked forward to both. Jude had introduced her to the latter. Initially she was hesitant, wanting to do it for him. But now, she welcomed him making her body his playground. Using his height & strength advantage to toss her around. Having her hands pinned over her head or behind her. Being on her hands & knees. Bent over the counter. Tied to the headboard. Pressed up against a wall. Thrown over his shoulder. Being bounced manically as he took her standing, without any support, using his ridiculous arm strength, while she clung to him for dear life. In this territory, she didn’t mind his aggression & control. And while she couldn’t match up to his impossible stamina or voracious appetite, she did meet him half way.

She liked dressing up for him too - a section of her closet reserved for such occasions. And that section only grew larger, some by her doing and a lot by his. But it kept depleting also, ripped & torn off fervently, depending on his restraint or lack of it. 

Jude was used to taking the lead in bed, and he relished it. But he could also now tell when she was in the zone, trying to seduce him subtly. The way she leaned into his side. How she pressed her front into his chest or back, letting him feel her curves. How she batted her lashes at him, while wrapping her arms around his neck, pulling him in for a soft, deep kiss, moaning into his mouth. How she sat into his lap, moving in a way that was sure to get him excited. How she bit her lip, while moving her hands over his body, feeling his muscles. How her neckline was extra deep some nights, giving him a plump view of her cleavage. How much his sweaty glistening skin, from matches or workouts, turned her on. In most cases, he took the cue & took her up on her offer. But sometimes, he liked to hear her say it out loud. On those nights, he tormented her slowly, playing with her, keeping her on the edge till she screams it out. Only then he’d relent & smile victoriously, burying himself in her warm, inviting heat & rocking them to ecstasy. 

He loved branding her with his marks, and enjoyed her efforts the following morning to cover them up thoroughly. 

‘Why bother so much?’

‘Anyone would.’

‘I don’t.’

‘Any decent person would.’

Jude never cared when her nail marks on his back / biceps were visible during training or in the locker room. He just laughed them off when other folks teased him. Most of his teammates were like that, barring a few shy ones like Arda. Special teasing was reserved for the shy ones.

The winter clothes were a big help to her, for now.

‘What will you do in the summer?’

‘Discipline you.’

‘Good luck with that.’

Jude was spontaneous, but he liked the anticipation of planned trysts too. As did she. Especially during role-plays (another aspect she was shocked to discover that she loved). 

His favourite such night was Valentine’s Day. Jude had pulled out all the stops that night to make it special - dressing in the black turtleneck that she was crazy about, decorating the living room (with red heart-shaped balloons but hey, he tried), ordering her favourite ravioli from a high-end Michelin star restaurant and a bottle of some very fine red wine which he knew she’d enjoy. Those were his gifts for her. As his gift, he wanted to see her in Indian attire. More specifically as an Indian new bride. Since he had seen that photo of her in a sari, this had been an open demand from him, and Valentine's Day seemed like the perfect occasion for it.

When she came down the stairs, dressed in a sleeveless v-neck cream blouse, red chiffon saree, open brown hair sliding down her back, cream heels, golden jewellery (bangles, choker necklace, earrings) and a fucking waist chain, Jude felt like he had died and gone to heaven. He stood frozen, unable to take his eyes off of her as she glided in front of him, waving her soft hands to get his attention.

Dinner was long forgotten. Every fucking thing faded in the background. His world revolved around this sorceress who had just made his brain short-circuit. 

‘Earth to Jude, are you there?’

‘Naa he’s dead. You killed him. Mercilessly.’

Jude took her hand and twirled her slowly, taking in the full 360* view. She obliged playfully, flipping her hair for effect, as his eyes roamed over her form & the way that sinful garment hugged her at all the right places, accentuating her curves, particularly that round behind. His hands rested on her bare waist while her henna-painted ones went to his shoulders. Jude loved the smell of it, inhaling deeply.

‘Some things are different?’

‘Yeah. I couldn’t put the sindoor and mangalsutra - only married women can wear that.’

‘Not even for one night?’

‘No, it’s inauspicious.’

‘The bangles are different too?’

‘Yeah. The ones you saw are called chooda. Again, only a married woman wears that, for a few weeks after the wedding.’

‘Hmmm.’

‘You don’t like it like this?’

Jude looked at her like she had suddenly grown horns, thoroughly shocked at the comment, and she got her answer. Next second, she felt his large hand cupping her butt, pulling her close, moving slightly against her to let the bulge do the talking. 

She glanced at the food longingly, then looked into his hungrier eyes, and relented. Without wasting any time, Jude picked her up and carried her bridal style up the stairs. He had considered the couch but tonight he needed the bed to properly enjoy her. Her sari was first to go, followed by her petticoat, panties & jewellery, only the waist chain stayed on (he was fascinated with it), along with her anklets. 

Removing the sari was quite an experience. He pulled at it with force, spinning her around with ease as the garment slid off her body. While she tried to slow him down wherever it was held together with pins. She would have giggled at it, if he didn’t look like he wanted to eat her alive then & there. 

Ananya shuddered on the bed underneath him as he licked down her face, lapping at her ruby painted lips, dipping into her mouth briefly for a quick taste, trailing down her neck into her cleavage, while pulling apart the threads holding her blouse together. There was silence tonight, only the sounds of their heavy breathing & her soft gaps cutting through the tension, along with Jude’s intermittent grunts.

He pulled at the waist chain with his teeth, inserting his tongue into her bellybutton and she nearly leapt off the bed, moaning his name wildly, his weight on top serving as her anchor. Jude was struggling to rein in his lust, and that served as the final straw. Pinning her hands on either side of her, he entered her fully in two precise thrusts, making her head spin and her toes curl.

‘J-Jude..’

‘Shhhhh.’

What followed was the most unhinged she had ever seen him. He was painfully hard already, so he went straight for her secret spot, hitting it repeatedly to get her pleasure to build rapidly, matching his own state, while his mouth devoured her sensitive peaks. Sucking with such fervour as if willing them to lactate. When she shut her eyes at the sensations, he bit the underside of her boob, a silent command to not hide from him. Gasping, she locked eyes with him, mouthing a silent ‘easy, jaan’ as he slid his teeth to her hardened nubs, tugging at them.

Jude was gone tonight. The bed creaked violently under them. It was an overwhelming intensity, so much that she could almost feel him in her throat. Ananya struggled under his hold to release her wrists. The more she struggled, the tighter his grip got, sure to leave bruises. She squirmed in vain as he continued his two-pronged assault, via his mouth & nether regions, taking her closer & closer to the edge. She willed her body to comply, knowing that he won’t let go before she did, and came screaming his name with a pointed, decisive stroke, shuddering uncontrollably underneath him. He didn’t relent, keeping up his pace through it, chasing his own high but it was too much & she had to use the safe word.

Jude paused, let go of her wrists, slowly returning to his senses. Still buried inside, he crawled up her spent form, caressing her face with the back of his fingers till she finally opened her eyes.

‘Hey.’

She just blinked at him. Jude lifted her palm, kissing the bruised wrist, trailing his lips down her arm and pecking the corner of her mouth. She hummed in content, as he repeated that with the other arm, wrapping both around his neck.

‘Breathe doll, nice & easy.’

He cooed softly. And she followed like clockwork, cupping his face, connecting their foreheads. Still hyper-aware of his hard, thick length inside her.

‘I love you.’

He whispered the magic words against her lips, and she sighed deeply.

‘Just a bit more, yeah? Can you do it for me princess?’

She would do anything for him if he held her like that. 

‘Okay….okay.’

Jude grabbed a pillow & placed it under her back to turn her upwards, and changed to his preferred angle, as her legs dangled around his back. Her hands massaged his shoulders and upper arms, calming him down, slowing him down too, wordlessly. She continued to trace his face with her fingers, as he groaned gutturally, reaching his high. For minutes after, he just stayed inside (something he had started doing more & more) and on top. 

When he finally rolled away, and she regained her breath thinking they could do down for their meal now, Jude had a different kind of meal cooking in his head. He sprinted downstairs to fetch the bottle of wine, and dragged her naked form to the shower, washing her, drinking the rich, rare wine off her body. Spilling it down her neck then licking it off her curves. Then repeating it on her back, drinking it off the curve of her hips. Pouring it from his mouth into hers, so she could taste him along with the wine. Turning her red in more ways than one. Later, he went down on her, making her see stars while she also worked up the nerves to use her hands on him (for the first time). His takeover of her senses and body was absolute tonight, and the colour never left her face. She hid under the blanket later, unable to meet his eyes, once her mind recovered enough to process their activities. Jude cajoled his way under the blanket, cooing into her ear, spooning her from behind, showering praises in that silky smooth voice as to how this was the best night of his life, and how she had been an absolute goddess. How she was made for him. They had their dinner in bed, and then crashed to a much needed sleep. 

Condoms were antiquated history for Jude now. From the very beginning, since she got on the pill and he got a taste of what skin-to-skin feels like, he simply refused to go back, like his whole life had been a lie. Even on some rushed occasions, when there wasn’t enough window to clean up the mess later, he whined & reasoned to not have to put one on, only relenting when she absolutely put her foot down. But the frequency and intensity of their escapades always left a silent fear in the back of her head. The fear came alive one morning, when she realised she was two days late for her cycle.

It hit her like a truck. She never got late (barring some rare occasions involving health, stress etc), so the panic was in full swing. Ananya barely got through the day at work, mechanically finishing her tasks and confiding in Roma in the evening on their way back. She had iced out Jude all day, undecided on how to deal with him or what to even tell him right now. But the nosy detective that he was (especially when it came to her), he figured something was off and landed at her place unannounced later that evening. By then, Roma had almost convinced her to take a pregnancy test, while she cried into her arms on how her whole life was ending.

Jude was alarmed to see her state, and both girls were confused what to tell him. Roma suggested it maybe best if he comes back later but Jude absolutely refused, looking straight at Ananya, who was looking everywhere but at him. He could’t take it anymore & just held her tightly in his arms.

‘Dove, it’s me. What can’t you tell me? What’s gotten you like this?’

She just let her body go, resting against him, sniffling a little into his sweatshirt. Roma left the room to give them some space. A thousand horrible thoughts hit Jude simultaneously. 

‘Has something happened? Did someone…hurt you? Baby pls I’m dying out here.’

He titled her face up, staring straight into her eyes.

‘I’m….late.’

It took him a few seconds to understand what she meant. And the world came crashing down on him too. Ananya was nervous about his reaction, but somehow those fears were proven unwarranted. Because he quickly got into a problem solving mode, getting over the initial shock.

‘You used the pill daily right? You even had the app.’

‘Yes.’

‘So we’re going to be fine. Take the test, I’m waiting here.’

‘But what if we’re not? What if…..’

‘Babe, let’s not speculate. Let’s take the test first yeah?’

‘I’m scared.’

Well, he was scared too, but he was steady for her in that moment.

‘I’m here. I’ve got you.’

‘Why aren’t you freaking out?’

‘Coz looking at you I thought it was something much worse. This, we can handle.’

The next few minutes were the longest of her life. Ananya couldn’t breathe till the result came out negative. She refused to even look at the stick, Roma checked it and broke the news to her. And finally she stopped hyperventilating. Jude ordered some blueberry cheesecake and ravioli, which she hogged, having starved herself under stress all day. Once the storm had settled down, and they were lying in bed together, scrolling through Netflix to pick a new show, Jude made a joke. At least he thought it was funny.

‘So you thought I could break even the pill yeah?’

She turned to look at his smirking face filled with a weird sense of cockiness.

‘You find this funny? No seriously is this a joke to you? Are you proud of your vigorous masculinity?’

Once again, he didn’t know what hit him, feeling like a proper fool for inviting this onslaught. 

‘I was just…’

‘Just what? What if it was positive, huh? But you wouldn’t have to lift a finger even then. I would have to go through the procedure, and I bet you have no idea how painful it is. Did you study biology in school? Or did you only hear till the point of sex and nothing after? Not the consequences? Not what comes after all your fun? Such a typical guy.’

Jude was sitting with his head down, like a schooled kid.

‘Am sorry, I really didn’t know it was painful.’

‘….I would have to tell at home, coz how could I keep something so major from them? But sure, you go ahead & make your jokes. Seriously the universe if so unfair - I wish you guys had to go through half the things we do. If your bodies had to bear the brunt of all your fetishes. But no - even god is unfair to women. So what can I even expect from men like you?’

Without giving him a chance to respond, she stormed off the bed and slammed the door of the washroom to take a shower to cool down. While Jude simply stared after her.

Roma was standing in the doorway, shaking her head slowly at the mess, leaning against the side. She had come to check on Ananya after listening to all the commotion.

‘Maybe the club should take IQ tests along with medical tests before signing players?’

Jude gave her a half-hurt half-dirty look.

‘Gee thanks. What an awesome friend you are.’

‘You’re welcome. Now try not to dig a deeper hole for yourself & call me when she comes out.’

Jude stuck his tongue out at her and she simply waved him off while walking away.

When Ananya came out after 30 mins, smelling like strawberries from her shower, dressed in a comfy fluffy pink bathrobe, Jude simply hugged her from behind, keeping his chin on her shoulder, rubbing his cheek against hers, slowly swaying her in his hold, whispering in her ear how he was her silly baby. She gave in soon, because one needed to be a battle-hardened soldier to stay mad at that face for long. And she couldn’t see him sad, especially when it was her doing; a fact he knew & exploited with impunity. But she did keep him at an arm’s length for a few days after, still spooked by what nearly happened, and Jude has to slowly claw his way back under the sheets.

Thankfully, that had been the only pregnancy scare so far. And Jude never whined after that whenever Ananya suggested using a condom.

Passion was a cornerstone of their relationship. But it surprised Jude how much he craved her otherwise too. How much her proximity (or lack of it) impacted his mood.

Ananya thoroughly revelled in their domestic moments. The little things he did for her, almost instinctively now. All the sweet treats that came his way through events, sponsorships etc were passed on to her & Roma. As did some exclusive club merchandise, which both the girls simply loved donning. Pre-match & post-match messages from her was a ritual between them, irrespective of the result. As were the late night calls, when he was out for away games or international break. Jude never missed sending her flowers every week; by now Ananya had seen almost all varieties discovered by mankind since Jude’s brief to the florist was to send new ones every time. On the two rare occasions that he missed it, he sent extra large ones to her office to make up for it.

‘I know what you’re doing.’

‘And what’s that?’

‘Using this to re-establish to folks here that I’m taken.’

‘Calling me smart?’

‘Calling you ruthless.’

‘Love it.’

Weekly movie nights were a norm too, sometimes with the three of them. On most occasions, Roma & Jude acted like long-lost twins, perfectly in sync. On the rare exceptions, they got on each others’ nerves like hell and Ananya had to play referee in the middle, balancing between her boyfriend and best friend. 

The absolute melting point for Ananya was to watch fans respond to Jude, and the love he had already earned in his first season. Watching him with kids practically made her heart do somersaults. And her ovaries burst with anticipation. The feeling was indescribable - the way kids sought him out, clung to him, played with him, laughed with him, idolised him, cried for him - it was just pure & serene, something to be felt only by Jude & those around him. He was special, and the kids’ love was the deepest affirmation possible.

Jude was chronically online whenever he was idle, which meant Ananya often had the most random & diverse messages waiting for her, at ungodly times. Holiday destinations, funny memes, quotes from classics (he was trying out of FOMO since Jobe & Ananya often discussed this at length), football history, Spotify playlists (too much of Elvis for her liking but she never said that out loud), new branded fits, videos from training sessions or matches, pics of lingerie he was planning to buy for her, pics of food he could never eat but lived vicariously when she did, pics of English countryside (he had taken offence when she claimed Switzerland was more picturesque) his selfies, some old photos he had clicked of her & of them together, and many other things. She had learnt never to open his messages in company, because sometimes they ranged from fluffy to downright filthy, and he owned both with pride. 

Probably the trickiest point that they constantly navigated was her feelings on Jude’s previous lifestyle & the ramifications on their current life. After the Christmas fiasco (which had nearly ended them for good), Jude was quite mindful of his behaviour. And overshared with her for good measure even if the situation was borderline tricky - say with a shoot or some DMs or some fan attention. But given how popular & sought after he was with women, the kind of reactions he drew wherever he went, it was never going to be easy for Ananya. He was constantly flooded with propositions, some harmless, some not, and had immense access all the time. His submission was for her to trust that he won’t abuse that access, won’t act on it, simply because he doesn’t need to now that he had her. 

But the aftershock of that Christmas picture was still buried somewhere in her heart; it never truly went away. The lingering doubt never truly went away. In a vulnerable moment, when both of them were slightly tipsy, she brought it up.

‘Do you ever miss aspects of that life? The carefree fun & thrill?’

‘No.’

‘C’mon Jude.’

‘Not at the cost of you.’

To his credit, his stance had always been this. Always consistent. But she chose to push further.

‘Did you ever feel like going back?’

He looked at her with those big eyes, pleading to not pursue it. But she was on a mission tonight.

‘You can tell me. I won’t get mad.’

‘Yeah you’re just saying it. Then you’ll get all weird & distant.’

‘I won’t. Surely there has to be something.’

Jude was torn, but the alcohol had numbed his brain more than usual, as had her soft voice & calming presence. 

‘Like….very early on..,when we were fighting, and that whole asshole episode….when you weren’t…we weren’t….’

‘Sleeping together.’

‘..Yes.’

She had guessed as much. Sex was important to him. But how could she hold that against him when it was true for most men, especially those in his position.

‘I…just thought it’d be easier…less complicated….like maybe I wasn’t cut out for this…not now maybe…the feelings for you were new & confusing….but it was a passing thought…like super brief.’

She heard him out patiently, piecing together what he wasn’t saying, keeping her tone & face neutral, devoid of any judgement.

‘Then why didn’t you?’

‘Act on it?’

‘Yeah.’

‘Coz it was brief…I wasn’t…it wasn’t…’

‘But still.’

‘Because that would mean the end of us. That wasn’t an option. That isn’t an option.’

Her gaze was firm & piercing, trying to break through any potential charade. But she didn’t find any. And he pulled her close, kissing her softly, as she settled on his chest.

Now, Jude could have stayed quiet and could have let this moment pass peacefully. But he ended up yapping more & put his foot in his mouth.

‘Even for stuff you can’t do with your girlfriend, it just wasn’t worth it, y’know.’

She pulled away, crossing her arms, face all analysing again. 

‘Yeah? And what is that stuff that you can’t do with your girlfriend? That you were doing elsewhere?’

Jude was alert now. He wondered if his mum had dropped him on his head as a kid, coz how could he consistently find himself in such situations, of his own doing? Especially when his girlfriend was a lawyer or Sherlock Holmes or a bloodhound in a previous life? How could he be so fucking stupid in front of her?

‘You promised to not get mad.’

‘Not mad. Just curious.’

‘Tell that to your face.’

‘Don’t change the topic, Jude.’

‘Can we pls let this go, Ananya? What good will come of this? We’ll just spoil our night.’

Thing is, his past befuddled her. She absolutely didn’t want to know yet a part of her really wanted to know. Like ripping off a band-aid. And getting through every unpleasant information in one go. So there are no surprises anymore. But she didn’t know how to do it without judging. He believed being single gave him all the freedom in the world and their moral wavelengths just didn’t match at all. It was never going to. So grudgingly, she let it go.

Jude’s abstinence from certain activities, which he was a regular in earlier, was soon noticed by some of his teammates, especially Vini & Cama. And the fact that he was on his phone a lot, with a gooey face (in Cama’s words). They figured it out, and hounded him till he had to come clean. But he didn’t tell them who he was seeing (he wasn’t allowed to), just said there is someone, and showed a quick photo to shut their mouths. Since then, they referred to her as Jude’s girl. 

He had also been selective in introducing Ananya to his teammates. His previous partners-in-crime were nowhere on the list. The memo was clear in his head - committed guys with a clean reputation who will not blab him out.

Brahim and his girlfriend were invited over for lunch. Toni & his wife for coffee. Ananya was cool with Brahim - they got along well quickly and the conversation flowed naturally. But she hyperventilated when she saw Toni, the fan in her dancing a Flamenco inside. Jude kept elbowing her to reduce the pitch of her voice or not blink like a crazy person, but how was she supposed to be normal around one of Madrid’s greatest players ever? The cornerstone of their best years? Toni fucking Kroos. The absolute machine. And she was sitting across him in Jude’s lawn, just like that? Talking about fucking doughnuts? Like seriously?

The moment they walked out the door, she jumped into Jude’s arms and kissed his face all over. Jude balanced her by holding onto her butt, settling on the couch with her in his lap as she continued to put lipgloss marks on his face enthusiastically.

‘I love you I love you I love you I love you I loveeeee youuuuuuu!’

‘Because I got you to Toni?’

‘Yes.’

‘Not for me?’

‘Yeah that too.’

‘Thanks.’

‘Awwiiee my little bean my pumpkin my sweet babu - such a cute boy.’

Ananya was never one to bombard him with multiple nicknames (that was Jude’s territory), so the boy was extra amused at her antics. 

‘I think my baby deserves a special reward for making his girlfriend so so happy.’

Suddenly, the mood shifted. She took off her top slowly, leaving her in a dark pink bra. Jude’s eyes were glued there. And his body immediately responded when she guided his palm to her breasts, letting him play with them as he pleased.

‘The baby agrees.’

Jude pulled it down, and started sucking the soft brown peaks like a starved man. This is how he wished to be welcomed home every night - his girlfriend all pretty & naked for him, serving her tits into his mouth.

‘Not so soon. My turn first.’

Jude groaned loudly when he was removed from his personal fountain of heaven. Her fingers in his hair tugging his head back, craning it up for her.

She smiled and bit softly at his cheekbones, the sharp tip of his nose, his plump lips. She tilted his head further up to kiss along his neck & his sexy AF beard, bite his prominent Adam’s apple (her guilty pleasure), then twisted her head to reach the taut muscles at the back of his neck. He sighed softly all through, loving the attention. It nearly made up for his deprivation, nearly. Plus his hands were still there.

Ananya ended with biting his earlobe softly, whispering seductively in his ear.

‘I see what you’re doing though, how you’re picking the folks. You’re too plain like that.’

Jude’s brain capacity was significantly reduced at this point.

‘I’m plain?’

She rolled her eyes at how offended and confused he sounded. Such vanity!

‘Not your looks, jeez. But your moves, yes.’

‘Huh?’

‘Still wanna meet the others, especially Cama.’

That messed with his mood.

‘No.’

‘Why?’

‘You know why.’

‘Remind me.’

‘You find him more adorable than me.’

‘How do you know that?’

‘Umm because you’ve said it like a zillion times.’

She threw her head back & giggled, slowly pulling his track pants down and sliding one hand inside, earning a desperate moan from him.

‘Maybe.’

‘Then maybe I should tell you about all his extra curricular activities. It’s a long list.’

She batted her eyes at him, tilting her head to the side, unperturbed.

‘Oh, but then I’ll get a sense of your extra curricular activities too, no?’

Jude always avoided this topic like plague; they both knew that. He stared at the sexy menace in his lap, who was out-manoeuvring & check-mating him with ease. How & when did she learn that?

His hand cupped her butt, then spanked it with force. She gasped loudly, surprised at the suddenness.

‘Getting too smart for your own good, little dove.’

‘Smart is my second name.’

Jude lifted her out of his lap & threw her on the couch, getting on top of her. Pinning her down decisively.

‘STOP TALKING ABOUT OTHER MEN WHEN YOU’RE NAKED WITH ME.’

‘Yeah? What are you going to do about it?’

‘Gonna fuck this attitude right out of you.’

Jude grabbed her top from the floor and used it to tie her hands together, behind her. She immediately felt vulnerable, having no line of physical defence anymore. He pressed his bare leaking tip on her belly, enjoying her shudders, then slid it up her body to her tits, pressing into both, settling between them, cupping them with his hands to build friction. The tip hit her chin with each calculated stroke of his. And she knew he wanted nothing more than to shove it into her mouth, something he hadn’t gotten from her yet.

Her helpless whimpers were music to his ears.

‘Not so lippy anymore?’

She could only moan in response. Which turned into a loud gasp when he spread her legs impossibly wide, made a sloppy mess of her core with his mouth, then slapped it lightly, all while rendering her helpless. As if making a point that all of her belonged only to him. That he was taking what was his.

Before she could get any words out, he flipped them to move her on top. For the next 20 mins, he bounced her on himself mercilessly, thoroughly extracting his reward, as she struggled to find any anchor or purchase from the position. 

Exhausted, they snuggled on the couch after, lying side by side, recovering from the impromptu session. Jude lazily played with her hair, while she wondered about the stain they would have left on the pristine white couch.

‘Still can’t believe I just met Toni Kroos.’

Jude gave her a side-eye, expressing his displeasure at this being her first thought, after what they just did. But she squeezed his cheeks in response, which he grudgingly got out of.

‘Wonder what you’ll do if I’ll call someone else…let's say….Zidane?’

She stilled, then turned towards him.

‘Can you?’

Well, he had just said it for fun, he obviously was not on such familiar terms with the great Zizou.

‘Maybe. What will I get then?’

‘What do you want?’

He nibbled on her bottom lip, a naughty smirk plastered on his face.

‘Anything. Everything. However many times I ask for.’

She met his lustful gaze head on, familiar with his game by now.

‘It’s possible. If you bring me you know who.’

‘Ronaldo.’

‘Bingo.

‘Nope.’

‘Why?’

‘You’ll jump on him in front of me.’

‘Pls, I’ll never embarrass myself like that.’

‘Don’t trust you around him.’

‘Nonsense. I might faint or get a heart attack if he knows I exist but I am not gonna jump on him for sure.’

‘You’ll tell him you love him. That he’s your favourite.’

‘I do love him. And he’s my favourite. You know that.’

‘Yeah not gonna happen.’

‘Whatever you’re just a hater.’

She made a face & tried to move away but his grip on her waist tightened.

‘What?’

She could tell he wanted to say something, but was hesitating.

‘Do you love him more than me?’

Jude was nervous about the answer. There is a reason he had waited months to bring this up. 

Colour drained from Ananya’s face. In real time. But she was supposed to be the wordsmith here, she could get out of this.

‘I love him differently and you differently. Chalk & cheese. Can’t be compared.’

‘That’s not what I asked.’

‘Well, your question is flawed.’

She had loved her favourite player for 15-16 years. He was the reason she fell in love with football  and Madrid in the first place. And a part of her died when he left Madrid. Of course she loved him, deeply. It was obvious. What was Jude even asking?

‘Still, answer it.’

‘Jude….’

‘It's him, isn’t it?’

‘I didn’t say that.’

‘So if we draw Portugal in the Euros, you’d root for them to win? Over me?’

‘I…it’s not that simple.’

‘Wow!’

‘I’d probably root for a draw.’

‘And if it’s a knockout? Will my own girlfriend not be in my corner in one of the most important games of my life?’

Jude was throwing the kitchen sink at her - the sad words, the long face, the puppy eyes, the hurt voice, the deflated shoulders. She felt very, very guilty. But she wasn’t going to lie to him.

‘I’m sorry love. Don’t know how to feel about this. Would always want you to do well, obviously, but I can’t also root against him in his last Euros.’

Jude couldn’t believe it, and sulked for a good while after that. She cooked for him & fussed over him for hours, and he eventually cheered up. Because, it was tough for him to stay mad at her too.

Introducing her to his friends from back home was far less complicated. They were coming over for a home game, and Jude invited everyone to his place the next evening to formally introduce them to his girlfriend. 

‘No female friends or girlfriends?’

‘Nope.’

‘All guys?’

‘Yeah. That a problem?’

‘Problem? No. Just too much testosterone energy. Would have been nice to have a girl in the mix.’

Jude laughed so expressively that he nearly dropped the coffee cup on himself.

‘Will remember to be pally with more girls then, just for your sake.’

She chose to ignore that.

‘So, how deeply have they been instructed to not dish out anything about your escapades?’

Very deeply & thoroughly, in a serious tone. Many stories were off limits. Jude was well aware of her ability to connect the dots. 

‘Don’t know what you’re talking about.’

‘Right.’

Ananya was nervous about meeting them. She wondered if they’d like her, given how different their upbringing and cultures were. It had taken Jude also a while to understand her sensibilities.

But Jude didn’t leave her side that evening, his proximity a warm assurance to her. An arm over her shoulder or around her waist, a hand on her lap, or just holding hands with her. He was right there. Explaining an inside joke she didn’t have context on. Or cutting the group’s banter when he thought it was too much / too soon for her. Ananya felt all fuzzy inside when he spoke about her work & pedigree, propping her up as best he could. She loved seeing him in his element too - unguarded, unfiltered, vivacious - with friends who knew him inside out. All his animated goofy antics on full display. 

Whenever Jude couldn’t be around, Jobe was by her side. She had been relieved to know that Jobe was coming over too, and the duo had hung out that afternoon while Jude had been away for training. She had developed her own, easy dynamic with Jobe, outside of being Jude’s brother. Jude often wondered what those two talked about for so long, but never asked either of them. Mostly he was just glad that they had hit it off, coz both were reserved in their own ways, unlike him. 

Jude loved showing her off that evening. Grinning from ear to ear when she dumbed down her work in basic simple words, just for everyone’s benefit. How the group responded to her natural ease & sharp wit. How some were secretly in awe of her confidence & brains, a little bit, Jude could tell. And when they discovered she was a genuine football fan (not pretending to be one to look cool or fit in), the ice broke completely. Many football stories followed after - most involving Jude & some of his ‘not so god-like’ moments on the pitch. She soaked in everything - paying close attention to everyone. Later that night, when the party progressed to some music and Jude put his hands on her, swaying her hips to the tune (as was their routine), there were loud cheers of ‘get a room’. Ananya was flustered, wiggling out of his hold while Jude just laughed & gave them a middle finger. It was a fun night.

Mostly a fun night, barring one unpleasant incident. One of his friends made a somewhat loose remark on Ananya, which Jude overheard. It wasn’t much, could have easily been written off as banter, and frankly wasn’t an uncommon or a new line in their group. He had heard it before. Hell, he had said it before. But this time, it made Jude’s head hot. While others had caught on that this was different for Jude, this particular friend was either too drunk or just daft.

Toby elbowed the said friend, telling him to shut his trap, while Jobe was on Jude’s side, watching his brother, ready to intervene if needed. Jude considered asking Jobe to take Ananya inside, who was helping the housekeeper set up the desserts some distance away, while he deals with the situation. But many eyes turned on him to impress upon him that it wasn’t worth it.

The said friend was apologising profusely, which fell on deaf ears. He eventually decided to not ruin the night, for others, but mostly for her. However, Jude wasn’t going to allow that guy to be anywhere near Ananya.

‘Get out.’

With that, Jude went to find the only person who could calm him down right now. Ananya felt his arm wrap around her waist, more possessive than usual, pulling her into his side. She smiled up at him, but could’t recognise the look on his face. Jobe jogged over, and the brothers exchanged a look. She looked between them, then at Jobe, who gave her a reassuring nod and walked away after patting Jude’s shoulder. While Jude’s hand fidgeted on her waist.

‘Honey, what’s wrong?’

Jude was mad at the guy. But somewhere he was more mad at himself. It was because of who he was, rather who he had been, that the guy was able to take the liberty to make such a comment on her. He was fighting the urge of going after the guy and apologising to her at the same time. His thoughts were in mayhem. His eyes reflecting the storm inside.

Her soft voice & concerned eyes anchored him back, as did her hand gently stroking his chest. When he didn’t say anything, she nudged him down for a soft kiss, breaking her rule of no PDA. Swallowing his irritation. When they parted, Jude smiled at his magical girl, and Ananya led him back to the group. 

That night triggered something in Jude. He wanted to show her off to the world now. Wanted to have her on his arm. Wanted to go out to dinner dates & clubs with her. Wanted to claim her as his girlfriend. Wanted the whole fucking world to know who she belonged to, and what she meant to him. 

The return leg against Manchester City provided the perfect opportunity. She was in London that week for work, 75 mins away from the stadium. When Jude asked her a couple of days before the match, it didn’t go down as he intended. There was silence on the line, and his mood already was in the bin.

‘Will you say something?’

She didn’t know what to say, completely caught off-guard by his question. 

‘I-I don’t know what my schedule would be like. If I’d get done in time for the match.’

‘It’s at night. I can still send the passes and you can come if you get done? You can bring Roma too, I’ll handle the logistics.’

Silence again. Jude was losing patience and cut to the chase.

‘You don’t even wanna try do you?’

‘Jude, it’s not like that. But we shouldn’t rush into this. It’s a massive thing.’

‘6 months. We’ve been together 6 months, Ananya.’

‘I know. But I’m in the middle of this crazy cross-geography deal, and I still have a few MBA interviews lined up for next week. The safe schools, but still. There is so much going on. Maybe we should wait for a better time?’

‘And when would that be?’

‘Jude, we need to plan for this. I’m in the London office right now. How do you think I’d be able to walk into the boardroom with all our directors and clients next day if we actually go through with this? What would they be thinking when I’ll be running through my presentation?’

‘You tell me - what would they be thinking?’

‘They’ll only see me as your girlfriend Jude.’

A 20 yr old frivolous (easy) piece of ass. Not an investment banking analyst specialising in leveraged buyouts. That is, if her MD doesn’t decide to leave her out of the presentation to avoid any drama.

It was his turn to be silent. She could hear his heavy breath while she waited anxiously for a response.

‘Is it so terrible for you to be seen as my girlfriend? Even after all this time?’

His voice was low. Vulnerable. Hurt. How she wished she was there with him right now.

‘Nothing baby. So long as people see me beyond that too. Which is why we need to time this right  -  at work, with my parents - we need to find the perfect tim….’

‘There’s never going to be a perfect time. You’ll have to rip off the band-aid at some point. Given how painful it seems to be for you.’

The truth in his words cut deeply. There was nothing she could say to soothe him, despite knowing he was hurting. She tried, but no words came out, leading to a deafening silence.

He hung up shortly after, with a curt goodnight, and Ananya didn’t know what to do with herself. Sleep eluded both that night. Jude kept to himself during the flight next morning, saying he was tired. The team let him be. He didn’t respond to her messages of good morning or safe travels. Left them on unread all day. Only giving in at night after returning from the stadium. 

The match was next night. He desperately needed some sleep but somehow his body was refusing his command. And he knew the cure to his restlessness - avoiding her was not it. Even his treacherous body didn’t allow it.

He dialled her number, and she picked up in three rings, on her way back to her hotel. It was 11 pm - Jude couldn’t help but check on the route she was taking & how far out she was, only slumping back in bed once he was satisfied with her response. Long silence followed after the pleasantries, which she eventually broke.

‘How was your day?’

‘Shitty as fuck.’

‘Mine too, baby. But it’s such a big day for you & the team tomorrow. Maybe let’s focus on that, yeah? Let’s win tomorrow baby. Think about it - you returning home & knocking out the defending champions, the favourites, on their turf. Avenging last year’s loss. With your family & friends cheering you on. We’ll get to the semis Jude, in your first year. Think how amazing that would be.’

���You won’t be there.’

‘I’m so sorry, my love. Tell me what can I do to make it up to you and I will. But this can’t be the reason that holds you back tomorrow - I need to see you shine on that pitch. To give your 200% and more. It’s the big occasion, and I need my big game player to show the world what he’s made of. So tell me, what will it take?’

He knew the answer right away. 

‘Come home with me this weekend. To Birmingham.’

Jude had a window after this match and before the international break. He was going home for a few days, she knew that. His parents had asked about meeting her a few times - she had met Jobe & his friends after all, but never the parents. Not even a few times they had been with Jude in Madrid. Jude had tested waters during one such trip, but figured it was too soon for her. She had told him she’d never met a boyfriend’s parents before, and it was a very big deal in her world. So he gave her space and bought time with his parents. But it had been 6 months now, more than enough time.

Ananya took a few deep breaths. What he was asking for was fair. Nerve-wrecking but fair. She couldn’t deny him this, she didn’t have the heart to, no matter how nervous this made her.

‘Ok.’

‘What?’

‘I said ok.’

‘You’ll come with me?’

‘Yes Jude.’

‘Not going to bail on me?’

‘No. I’ll work from there if I have to but I’ll come.’

All restlessness evaporated from his body as he slowly processed her words. He found a pillow, hugging it close, remembering her scent.

‘Gonna win for you tomorrow.’

‘You do that. I’ll be watching you.’

‘Love you.’

‘Love you more.’

‘Not possible.’

Ananya made him hang up shortly after, saying he needed the rest, and Jude drifted off to a sound sleep.

Once she reached her hotel, she banged on Roma’s door. Roma was taking a relaxing shower after a long day but ran out to find an impatient Ananya on the other side. 

‘I’m meeting his parents.’

‘What? When?’

‘THIS WEEKEND. And I don’t have anything to wear. This is a nightmare.’

Roma stood in her bathrobe, leaning against the closet, listening to Ananya rant for 10 mins. It was ridiculous, her friend had the most age appropriate closet she had ever seen. And she was golden when it came to the kind of girls Jude was likely to bring home. Sheer fucking golden. 

But Roma took her best friend duties seriously. She tried to talk sense into Ananya, promised to figure out her wardrobe tomorrow, then practically dragged her to the bathtub and pushed her inside so she could calm the fuck down.

Madrid won the next night. The girls were ecstatic, jumping on their hotel bed ecstatic, ordering late night champagne to their room to celebrate. Ananya was so proud of him. He had been imperial on the pitch, relentless. Her heart ached to be there with him, especially when he wanted her so. But it was only a matter of 2 days now - Friday evening she’d travel to Birmingham to spend the weekend in his family home. 

Thursday night, Ananya turned her (& Roma’s) suitcases upside down to find the right clothes. Asking Jude what would be appropriate was a royal waste of time - he just looked at her like she was asking him the square root of 1691. Then said cool to everything she showed him. Jobe, the otherwise reliable, sane one just gave her an incredulous look too. She realised the brothers had the same WTF face. She also concluded that men were an utterly useless breed in most cases. Next evening, she got in the car that Jude insisted he would send, and was on her way. 

At the other end, Jude was chomping at the bit all evening. Bouncing around the house in anticipation. When she was 5 mins away and took a wrong turn, he frowned at the screen.

‘Pls don’t tell me you’re tracking her phone.’

‘Oh she’ll murder me with her bare tiny hands. I’m tracking the driver.’

‘Of course.’

The car had barely parked in the driveway around 10 pm when Jude opened her gate, pulled her out, hugged her tight, lifting her straight off the ground. She wrapped her arms around his neck. Both whispering ‘missed you’ together. They hadn’t seen each other in 10 days. Not even on her 21st birthday a week ago, since she was in London for work. 

About 30 seconds later, she tapped on his back to put her down, and he did. Jude held her hand and picked up her bag with the other one, leading her to the house.

He could tell she was nervous; it was kinda cute. But she really had no reason to be. His parents were super cool and he just knew they’d love her. 

‘You’re fine. It’s gonna be fine.’

He whispered before opening the door. And they met Jobe on the other side. He gave her a quick side hug, with a sweet ‘welcome home’. That put her at ease, somewhat.

Mark & Denise were in the living room. She wasn’t sure how to greet them or what to call them, so she had decided to go with Mr. and Mrs. Bellingham. But before she could open her mouth & embarrass herself, Mark came over & lightly patted her shoulder.

‘Heyyy Ananya, welcome. I’m Mark.’

The pronunciation of her name was perfect, and she could tell Jude had something to do with it.

‘Hey Mark, how are you?’

‘All good. So good to finally meet the girl my son can’t stop raving about.’

‘Thanks Dad.’

Mark just play-pushed Jude away. And Ananya could see where Jude got his grin and easy-going attitude from.

‘So good to be here.’

Denise was watching them from the side. Their eyes met, and both women slowly walked towards each other, shaking hands.

‘Hey Ananya, good to see you.’

‘You too, Denise. What a lovely home.’

‘Thank you. Come have some dinner? We saved some casserole - Jude said you’re vegetarian.’

She was about to say yes out of courtesy when Jude intervened.

‘Mom she had some takeaway on the road coz it was getting late.’

‘I see.’

‘But the casserole sounds lovely, I’ll have it tomorrow.’

Ananya quickly chimed in.

‘Sure. You must be tired. Get some rest, see you in the morning.’

After some quick good-nights, Jude led her upstairs to his room, hand-in-hand. The staircase wall was filled with family photos over the years, many more than his place in Madrid. She glanced through all, feeling the warmth of the family home, getting a window into their closely-knit unit.

Jude’s room was no different, littered with photos & memorabilia, a wide contrast to his squeaky clean room in Madrid. That was a man’s room, this was a boy’s. This still had memories of his growing up years, and they seemed to want to keep it that way. Jude let her look around, breathe it in, while he put away her stuff in his closet.

A minute later, strong arms wrapped around her from behind, and his chin rested on her shoulder. 

‘Hey.’

‘Hey.’

‘Can’t believe you’re really here.’

‘Me neither.’

Both moved at the same time to lean in for a kiss. Jude lifted her, carrying her to the bed, as she settled into his lap in their trademark koala hug. Lips glued to each others’. His hand at the back of her neck guiding their pace.

After a long make-out, she slowly pushed at his chest, and he broke the kiss grudgingly. He had promised her to behave himself this weekend - Ananya’s condition of coming over was ‘no funny business’ and for him to keep his hands to himself. But she was so close & he couldn’t understand why he had to deny himself.

‘I’ll stop soon.’

She shook her head slowly.

‘You know you won’t.’

‘They won’t mind. They may not even notice.’

‘Jude, you promised.’

‘Fiiiiine.’

He plopped on the bed dramatically, as she stepped into the washroom to change, emerging in his jersey and her pyjamas. She snuggled next to him, and he pulled the blanket over them, holding her close.

‘I’m so proud of you. Last night was awesome.’

‘Thanks dove.’

‘All Madridistas are proud of you.’

He tapped on her lips lovingly.

‘But I care about this one the most.’

‘Such a charmer.’

He gave her a Jude grin in response, and they fell back to a comfortable silence, just soaking each other in.

‘Honey, I’m sorry about the game.’

She knew she had hurt him. She knew it was playing on his mind. His arms tightened around her in response, like she’d slip away any second if he weren’t careful.

‘Let’s not go there right now, yeah?’

‘Ok.’

It would have opened some existential doors that both weren’t ready to look behind at this point. She was here, that’s what mattered right now. Jude leaned it to kiss her again, enveloping her mouth in a deep, comforting kiss. Just then, there was a knock on the door.

‘Hey guys, can I come in?’

‘No. Go away.’

Ananya smacked Jude’s chest in admonishment, sitting up in bed and fixing her hair/attire quickly.

‘Come in Jobe.’

The younger Bellingham snuck his head in first, followed by the rest of him. He was already taller than Jude, and still growing (something he never failed to highlight). Ananya genuinely wanted to ask Denise what she had fed them as kids.

‘I come bearing gifts.’

Denise had sent over some sponge cake, mostly for her, since Jude couldn’t have this stuff. Her face lit up at the prospect of home-cooked cake, and she hungrily took it from Jobe, quickly stuffing her mouth with it.

The three sat on the bed, talking about random stuff for some time after. Jude couldn’t wait for his brother to piss off, and he wasn’t subtle about it AT ALL, despite glares from Ananya. When Jobe did leave in some time, Ananya threw him a dirty look.

‘That was not very nice.’

‘He’ll live.’

‘Jude.’

‘What? He’ll do the same in my position.’

‘I highly doubt it.’

‘Baby, he’s a lot like me. You just don’t see it yet, or don’t want to.’

Ananya didn’t want to ask what that meant. Maybe he was right, maybe she didn’t want to see it.

So she changed the subject.

‘How’s the shoulder now?’

‘Not killing me if thats what you’re asking.’

‘And the back?’

‘Very much killing me.’

‘Let me see.’

Jude laid face down onto the pillow, while she straddled him, keeping her knees on either side.

He often joked that she had turned into a half physio by now, and should start charging the club as a side-hustle. She had picked up on a few things, from trying to help ease his pain on some particularly harsh nights.

Slowly, she massaged down the spasming muscles, applying pressure at the right points. He moaned into the pillow, asking for more. She went again, and he moaned harder. So much that she had to ask him to be quieter.

‘My dick’s hurting too. Badly. Can you tend to it next?’

She smacked his butt in response. Which had the opposite effect coz he absolutely loved it & laughed into the pillow.

‘Stop being a pervert.’

Jude twisted his neck back to try catching her eyes.

‘How can I be a pervert with my own girlfriend?’

She twisted it right back, pushing him back into the pillow.

‘You can write a book on it.’

‘You’re hurting my feelings.’

‘You’ll live.’

Jude smiled at the way she used his own words against him, ever the wordsmith. His body relaxed under her soft, concerned hands, and he pulled her back down next to him after some time, drifting off to sleep soon after, burying his head in the crook of her neck, one arm & leg over her body, as her arms draped around his shoulders.

Ananya was wide awake for a while, taking in the room and all that would have happened here. When he would have first thought to start playing football, as a 6 yr old. When he would have stared at the ceiling, dreaming of playing professionally. When he would have gotten into Birmingham City and had the season that he did. When the young boy would have cried for having to leave his room, his house, his city, his club, his family, his country to play for Dortmund. That was all he would have wanted but it would have hit then how much he would have to leave behind. When he would have come here after making it at Dortmund. And finally, when the boy had turned into a man at Madrid. This room witnessed it all. If only the walls could talk, she’d sit & hear every single thing about the man she loved - his dreams, his fears, his secrets, his little jokes, his joys, his habits, his whole life. 

The thoughts led to a lump in her throat and a tingling in her eyes. Jude stirred in his sleep, moving his mouth on her neck, as if sensing her restlessness. She held him tighter, he did the same, and she didn’t realise when sleep took over.

Next morning, they slept in late, and no one disturbed them. The day was filed with fun family time.

First up was a barbecue in the backyard. She was touched to find they had gotten vegetables specifically for her. Mark & Jobe were on barbecue duty while Jude was helping Denise in the kitchen with salad & mashed potatoes. Ananya chose to side with the former team, having never seen this up close. And also because she was a little intimidated by Denise. This would have been the perfect organic window to break the ice, with Jude around, but she chickened out and picked the easier option. Mark showed her how to do the vegetables and she did the rest on her own, under his close supervision.

The family & her ate outside. Mark started talking about her work & plans, and he made it very easy for her to open up. At one point she even went into a monologue, speaking for a few mins straight, feeling embarrassed after. Jude & Mark started arguing about something random then, in a competition of who could yap more/louder, with Jobe joining in for some bits. Eventually, Denise put an end to the argument & the focus came back to the food. Which was frankly delicious. 

Next up were home videos & photo albums, something she had specifically requested Jobe for. Her mouth was in a constant ‘aww’ mode looking at Jude’s childhood clippings. She was sitting between the brothers on the couch, and they kept filling her in on the context. 

‘What happened to this cute boy?’

She was looking at his 3rd birthday album - big cheeks & puppy eyes tugging at her heart.

‘He got cuter.’

Jude giggled next to her, kissing her cheek, and she couldn’t even deny it factually. There were more clips of him with his little cousins, playing & laughing with them. He was a natural with kids, a downright magnet and hands down favourite.

For the first time, she wondered about having a little version of him running around the house. With Jude running right behind, pretending to lose the race. It did something to her. Something fluffy yet dangerous. She had to physically clutch her chest to keep her heart from hammering against it. Thankfully, they moved to watching a movie next. The first half was a blur, her thoughts still scattered, but the safety of being tucked under Jude’s arm brought her back out of her trance.

In the afternoon, the parents were busy with some calls. Jude wanted to take a nap with Ananya, while Jobe wanted to show her his new collection of thriller novels. She went with the latter, spending some time in Jobe’s room as they discussed their favourite thrillers. When she returned to Jude’s room an hour later, she found him playing a violent video game, filled with guns & explosions. She sat next to him, leaning into his side.

‘Didn’t sleep?’

‘Nuh.’

He kept his eyes firmly on the screen. And it took her precisely 3 seconds to understand he was sulking.

‘Will you teach me how to play this?’

‘Jobe plays this too. Maybe he can show you.’

‘But I want my boyfriend.’

Scrutinising eyes turned towards her, trying to find any hint of sarcasm or flippancy, but was met with sincerity. He softened, easing his stance, pulling her legs into his lap, and proceeded to yap for 20 mins about a game she had zero interest in. But she had always been a fast learner, and actually played two quick turns decently well. Jude beamed with pride, and the pair went to their nap after.

Dinner was brief. Everyone was still stuffed from the heavy lunch. And she had some work to finish. So Jude & her ate in the room - salad for Jude and yesterday’s casserole for her. They both crashed early that night, tired from the day’s activities.

Sunday morning came. She had to head out that evening, these were their last few hours together till next Sunday when he returned to Madrid. And Jude was particularly needy since waking up. He tried negotiating with all his might, to get her to budge on the ‘no sex rule’, calling it torture. Calling it unfair. An unjust punishment. He tried guilt-tripping, blackmailing, pleading but nothing worked. She stayed firm, and got out of his hold.

It was still early, around 7 am. The house was quiet. He followed her into the kitchen when she came down for some milk, wrapping his arms around her waist from behind, trying to kiss her neck.

‘JUDE.’

‘Let’s go to a hotel.’

‘What?’

‘For a few hours. There’s one nearby.’

He knew there was a private one nearby, because he had used it many times earlier. But obviously   omitted that out.

‘You’re out of your mind.’

His hands moved to her butt, cupping & squeezing with force, channelling his frustration. She tried swatting his hands away but was no match to his strength & resolve.

‘Not here.’

‘Yes here.’

‘Pls behave.’

‘Why?’

‘Decorum.’

Denise’s voice from behind made them jump apart in a split-second. Ananya wanted to kill herself. No, she wanted to kill Jude. And Jude knew that. So he stood a good few feet away, outside of her reach.

‘Morning Mom.’

‘Morning Jude.’

‘Was just helping her find…..sugar.’

Ananya cringed internally. It was extra sad because she knew he’d think he was being smart.

‘It’s on the counter.’

‘Right. So…..I’ll head back then.’

Jude retreated soon after, escaping the looks from both women he loved the most in this world. Then, Denise turned towards Ananya and the girl nearly dropped her cup.

She was dressed in Jude’s hoodie from yesterday, and was convinced the universe was trying to kill her with embarrassment. What would Denise think, especially after what she just saw? Should she give an explanation? Should she act like an idiot (like that boy earlier) & find a way to escape? This is not how she imagined her first proper solo conversation with Denise.

‘I..I’m sorry about..that.’

‘You shouldn’t be the one apologising for my son.’

Her tone was on point, but also kinda soft. Ananya just nodded in response, unsure of what else to say.

‘I’m making coffee. Want some?’

‘Yeah sure.’

She saw the graceful woman move around her kitchen meticulously.

‘Thought you’d be a tea person.’

Denise smiled. And Ananya breathed a bit more easy.

‘I was. But last 4 years in Europe changed me a fair bit I guess.’

‘Must have been hard - uprooting your life like that.‘

‘Yeah. But Mark & I kinda knew what it would take to get the boys here.’

‘And it still goes on.’

Denise’s smile was directed straight at her this time.

‘It still goes on. But they are happy, so I’m happy.’

Such a simple line, summarising years of sacrifice and putting her life away for her sons. But it was all worth it, she could see it from the quiet pride & joy in Denise’s eyes when she talked about her boys. What a great woman. A strong, smart, opinionated, loving woman. And such a great mum too!

They stepped into the backyard with their coffee, sitting side by side on the bench. Jude came down to check on the scene once, but saw them chatting away, so went back up quietly. Or so he thought, coz both women heard him & shook their heads.

‘So, 6 months huh?’

‘Yeah. Don’t know where time went.’

‘Happens when you’re in love.’

It was plain as day to Denise that they were in their head over heels phase right now. No question. 

‘I guess.’

‘It’s good to finally meet you.’

‘You too. And I’m sorry you had to find out that way…during Christmas.’

‘Again, not your fault.’

‘Were you surprised?’

‘That he was seeing someone? No. That he was in love? Yes. I’d never seen Jude so desperate like he was to get to you that day.’

‘I…I’m sorry for all the chaos and for…taking him away during Christmas.’

‘Dear, you need to stop apologising for everything. And for what it’s worth, I’m glad you gave him hell for that. I would too. All self-respecting women should, but most don’t, for various reasons, which saddens me. He needs to learn that actions have consequences.’

Ananya nodded absent-mindedly, still processing her words. The conversation moved to a few random things about life in Madrid. A few mins later, Denise looked at Ananya with purpose.

‘Can I ask you something?’

‘Of course.’

‘You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to, or if you don’t know how to.’

That put her on guard.

‘Okay.’

‘There’s something holding you back from Jude. Something gnawing at you. Am I right?’

Ananya had not seen that coming. Her eyes fell to her lap as she fidgeted with her hands. How did Denise catch that in a day? Literally no words came to her head. Zilch. 

Denise watched her closely. She knew she had hit the nail on its head. Her intuition had just been confirmed. There was something about Ananya’s look, the way she paused in the middle of conversations about the future, or when Mark said she’d join them for Christmas this year. Something flickered on her face, which she usually hid away quickly, but Denise had seen it.

‘Like I said, you don’t have to answer.’

She really shouldn’t. When she hadn’t even been able to properly articulate it to herself. Her boyfriend’s mom, who she was meeting for the first time, should be the last person she should confide in. But there was something about Denise’s demeanour right now which made Ananya want to bare her heart - something kind, motherly, like an older sister or best friend. A wise, comforting, knowing, trusted advisor.

Denise saw her struggle, and reached out to squeeze her hand gently. Ananya held it back, ready to cry at the gesture.

‘I won’t tell him.’

‘I know.’

After a few deep breaths, Ananya let the cat out of the bag.

‘I don’t know if I’m the right girl for him. If I can give him everything he wants in life.’

There was no point denying this anymore. The argument from the last match was playing in her head. It had far deeper connotations, something the couple was avoiding to discuss. Because it would open a pandora’s box of questions & predicaments.

When Jude had asked her to go public that night, her whole system revolved against the thought. Something Jude sensed, which had hurt him. Which made him ask that piercing question. And he was right - there was never going to be a perfect time. Not now. Not for the next two years when she’d be knee deep in her MBA, an ocean away from him. Post that, it would be the first few years of her career, she didn’t even know what would be the best location for it. Maybe US. Or London. Or back home in India - she could always go back to the Mumbai office, to be close to her family. 

And Jude was going to be in Madrid. Her MBA or work won’t allow her enough time to fly in. And long distance would not work for Jude - he simply didn’t have the patience or maturity for it. He needed the constant reassurance of company, physical touch, having someone by his side, someone whose arms he could fall into every night, someone whose world revolved around him, someone who relished his world & the spotlight that came with it, someone he could show off to the world, someone who could deal with all the media/fan frenzy that would always follow him. Without that, he won’t be satisfied, not fully, and at some point he’d look outside for that satisfaction, for companionship, for sex. 

Even in the last few months, she had felt parts of that irritation and dissatisfaction in him, while she was in the same city. A part of her hadn’t been able to forget the despair she felt when she saw Jude’s picture on Christmas, and another part of her felt something like that was inevitable. Like it would come anytime now, and she won’t be able to take it the second time. Heck, she might even blame herself more this time. 

Denise didn’t ask what that line meant. She had pieced parts of it together from everything she had heard about her from the boys, and her face was also telling its own story right now.

‘Have you spoken to him about this?’

‘In parts. On & off, when something or the other pops up. But not directly, no.’

‘Maybe you should.’

‘How? I don’t want to hurt him. I can’t. Really do love him.’

‘I know, dear.’

The heart-shaped locket Ananya was wearing was proof of it. Of their love. Denise had the same one & she recognised it immediately. Jude had only given it to two people in his life.

‘But telling him later would hurt him more.’

Ananya squeezed her eyes shut in pain, and Denise scooted closer to her on the bench, her hand still squeezing Ananya’s. 

‘Look, you don’t have to do anything immediately. But at some point, you need to address the elephant in the room. It would eat away at you both otherwise.’

Ananya could only nod in response, the lump in her throat not letting any words come out.

‘Till then, best to not rush into anything.’

‘W-what do you mean?’

‘You know, like, you guys are young and….I can see how you are with each other. Don’t let a weak, vulnerable moment have serious life consequences….for either of you.’

Was she just getting sex talk from her boyfriend’s mother? To not rush into a….marriage….or a child???

Denise could see the mix of embarrassment and shock on Ananya’s face. But it needed to be said. The closeness they had, anything could happen. They were like pieces which weren’t even from the same board but somehow interlocked perfectly. Like magnets. Something she couldn’t articulate but felt deep in her heart every time she saw them together.

Ananya wanted the ground to split and swallow her whole. Now was a good time to run away, coz she couldn’t believe what had just happened with her. And she did run away, after thanking Denise for her counsel.

She ran straight to Jude. He was in bed, half drowsy, but his face lit up when she walked in. He lifted the blanket, inviting her in and she rushed to settle in next to him, letting him hug her close, burying her face into his chest.

‘That was some chat, yeah?’

‘I think your mom just gave me the talk.’

She was still in shock. And Jude just laughed loudly in her ear.

‘What?’

‘Uh-huh.’

‘To not let me knock you up?’

‘Pretty sure that’s what she was hinting at.’

‘Unreal. And she spoke to you about this, not me?’

‘Maybe she thought I’d take her more seriously on this.’

‘Yeah, possible. But that’s funny. No wonder you look so red.’

Jude tilted his head to kiss her cheeks and she sighed at the comfort of it.

‘Dad gave me the same talk by the way.’

‘WHAT? When?’

‘Last night. I just laughed it off. But mom? Wow. Can they not see we are kids ourselves?’

‘You are.’

‘Ouch. But yeah, you are older I guess.’

She smacked his chest with force.

‘By 2 months. Shut up.’

‘It’s cool. I like older women.’

‘You are such a juvenile. And they thought I’d let you get me pregnant? Nonsense.’

Jude whispered slowly, playfully in her ear.

‘Not now. But one day, you will. One day, I’ll put babies in here.’

She froze. Her skin turned cold at those words. Alarming him.

‘Heyy heyy I was kidding. Pls don’t freak out.’

She sat up in bed, throwing the blanket away.

‘Ananya - look at me. C’mon. Forget what I said, was just messing with you.’

He rubbed her arms & back, but she scooted away, setting some distance between them on the bed. 

‘It’s too much. It’s too hard…Jude…’

‘Baby, what’s happening?’

‘Are you happy?’

‘What?’

‘Are you happy with me? Honestly?’

Jude stared at her incredulously, trying to figure where she was going with this. Did she really need to ask him? 

‘I love you.’

‘I love you too. But….’

‘I AM happy. Aren’t you?’

‘I am…for now…but…’

‘But what? What’s gotten into you all of a sudden?’

‘It’s not all of a sudden. You know what I’m talking about.’

Her voice was barely a whisper now, and it scared the living daylights out of him.

Yes, he knew. All those little unsaid things between them that seemed unsurmountable, he had felt them too. Both had tried to brush them under the carpet. But it was all bubbling over now in a cruel way.

But letting her pull away was not an option. He reached for her, grabbing her arms, pulling her close, despite her protests.

‘We can work it out.’

‘HOW? I may have to leave in a few months for my MBA. And I want to, I really do. It’s my dream, my family’s dream. It’s all I have been working for since I was a kid. It’s why I have studied so hard. Can’t give it up Jude, can’t do that to myself or my family.’

Funny thing was, a part of her did want to give it all up, just to stay with him. And that scared the shit out of her.

‘I know.’

A part of him wanted to keep her back in Madrid too, by his side, selfishly, but he was starting to see it wasn’t possible. And it wasn’t right. 

She slumped against him, speaking in whispers again, and he held her gently, like a delicate precious object.

‘Between you & my career - I don’t know how to do justice to both.’

Jude was trying hard to be strong for both of them. To not break down right now. But it was killing him from the inside. The thought of waking up knowing she wasn’t his anymore was so terrifying that he had compartmentalised this in his head, even though her going away had been on the horizon more & more.

‘And it’s not just that - we’re so different. I don’t know if I can really make you happy. If I can be….who you want me to be…I….’

Theirs was a clash of sensibilities, of moral compasses, of cultures, of core beliefs. 

‘Shhhhh baby, baby, you make me so happy you have no idea. Can never put it into words what you do to me. You make me a better person. I love you. I love you so much, dove.’

Tears came down her cheeks, breaking his heart into pieces, but he let her soak his jumper with it. 

‘Look at me. C’mon love, look at me.’

He cupped her cheeks, tilting her face up.

‘Here’s what we are going to do. No big decisions for now. Nothing that gets us like this. No need to go public or anything. Let’s just do what we are doing, what’s working for us.’

‘But that’s not what you want….you want to go public….you want more…’

‘Not at the cost of you. Not if I can’t come home to you anymore. Do you get that?’

She nodded slowly. 

‘One step at a time. Nothing too drastic. We have 4 months before you leave, yeah? Let’s just make the most of it. Move in with me, if that’s not too scary for you. Let’s just stick to each other. And when you do leave, we’ll find a way to make it work if we want it that much. I know we can.’

She wanted to believe him, so so badly. But life just didn’t work like that.

‘It’s not so easy. You’re saying that now but….when I’m not around…will you….Jude I can’t take another incident like that I just can’t. It’ll break me.’

‘I know. And can you see why it won’t happen? Because I know that would be the end of us. You will never forgive me again. It’s not easy. No one said it would be easy. But tell me this - would you not have moved heaven & earth to be with your ex, no matter the challenges, the differences, instead of giving it all up?’

‘Y-yes.’

‘So why not now?’

Because life had taught her it wasn’t a bed of roses. She knew that now. She wasn’t that naive girl from earlier.

‘Is it because you….loved him more…than me?’

The crack in his voice hurt her in ways she didn’t even know was possible. Ananya reached desperately for his face, cupping his cheeks, kissing him all over.

‘No babu. Don’t ever say that. It’s not true.’

‘Then let me love you. Let me show you I’m not the same person anymore. Destiny & fate & distance can fuck right off - if you’re with me, if you trust me then we’ll make it. Remember I told you not being with you is not an option? It’s true. I won’t know what to do with myself. You’re my whole heart, I’m obsessed with you, I need you. And I’ll keep loving you till you love me the same way.’

‘I do love you the same way.’

‘Then show me. Fight for us. Don’t ever think of pulling away. Don’t leave me, Ananya.’

‘Oh Jude.’

They reached for each other at the same time, lips crashing together. She didn’t know whether she pulled him on top or he pushed her down, but there he was, kissing her like his life depended on it, pressing her into the mattress. Both channeling their love & desperation into the frantic kiss. 

Ananya didn’t stop him when his hands reached under her clothes, pulling them off. She couldn’t. Because she needed to feel his love, his reassurance, just all of him. And Jude would have cried if she tried to take that away from him. Quite literally. 

‘Just….make me forget this baby….just wanna remember you.’

‘Gladly.’

He lived up to his promise. In all his kisses and caresses and praises, she was transported to a different world. Their world. Where nothing else mattered. Just him & her. And it was enough. It had to be enough. They’d will it to be enough. 

‘Say yes, Ananya.’

She didn’t know what he was asking for, or what all he was asking a yes for. But she wanted to give it to him. She wanted to give him everything. 

‘Yes.’

‘My sweet dove.’

‘My beautiful prince.’

‘I love you.’

‘I love you more.’

‘Not possible.’

It was too soon to think of growing old together, so they decided to grow up together. Taking on the world together and everything it threw at them. One step at a time. 

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

Well, there you go! 17k words. The end of Star Crossed Lovers.

I don't even know how to begin thanking you for all the love you have given to this series, and to Jude & Ananya. What your messages have meant to me.

Thank you for waiting patiently for 2 months for this final chapter. For constantly motivating me & sending me good vibes. You've been the best readers, so you deserved a long-ass chapter to conclude this roller-coaster journey.

I'll be taking a break from writing now. But it's been such a ride with you guys.

And ofcourse, as always, I am chomping at the bit to hear your thoughts on this chapter. This was truly a labour of love, and the last one, so pls do share your thoughts extensively with me. I can not wait to hear you guys 💜

Thanks again!

[breathinginsulfur]

Hey guys, i know this rant is long enough but i wanna add some more.

Really trying to understand why stolas is genuinely despised, and it’s hard for me to understand. But I think i have something, and it may potentially be a hot take but these days even liking the show is a hot take /hj

I think (SOME) people, not all, just genuinely have a hard time believing that men can be victims of abuse. Especially if the abuser is a woman. Because yes, it is true that most domestic abusers are men, and men are more capable of getting away with abuse, but you cannot act like this is the only way it happens.

Stolas is an abuse victim. His father was emotionally unavailable and barely even remembered anything about Stolas. To Paimon, Stolas is just another one of his spawn. Nothing more.

While we are still lacking on Stella’s background (which we desperately need), what we know is that she never loved Stolas, the same way Stolas never loved her. they were never in love. They had one reason for their (forced) marriage. To birth a new heir. That’s it.

We can assume that they never got along. Judging by their personalities, Stolas is not an assertive person. He’s nervous, but intelligent, and passionate about his powers and interests. He did not at all try to overpower or dominate blitzo as a kid, despite being royalty. We saw him bow down to blitzo, to which Paimon got angry at. Stolas does not look down on people, he looks down on himself.

Based on the photo of Stella Paimon showed to Stolas, she seemed to be a more aggressive child, making it likely that she was also not parented properly. By this we can also assume that she took the more dominant role, taking advantage of Stolas’s anxiousness and taking control in relationship.

In photos she took with Via and Stolas, she looks like she doesn’t want to be there. She doesn’t appear to have any true care for Via. In Loo Loo Land, when Via calls for both of them, Stella refuses to acknowledge her, grumpily telling Stolas to deal with it. Again, i really, really hope they give us more background about her, because it will most likely make it so much easier for people to understand why Stolas is not the bad guy. One of my biggest issues with this show is the lack of background for the women in the show. But i trust that we will get it soon.

I believe Stella only truly cares for the title of being a Goetia. She doesn’t care about her daughter or her now ex-husband, she only wants the richness and glory of being a goetic demon. THIS is why she did not divorce Stolas. When she found out he cheated, did she appear personally, emotionally hurt? She was pissed off yes, but how she reacts is so important.

“I can’t believe you slept with an IMP.”

“You are a god damn EMBARRASSMENT”.

She never once tells Stolas that she feels betrayed, that she thought he loved her, etc. she only cares about the fact that Stolas disrespected the Goetia family name by sleeping with a lower class demon. The themes of hierarchy in this show are so important to the story.

Stolas and Stella hated each other. She constantly talked shit about him, and he just felt empty inside. Blitzo changed that for him. Stolas NEVER forced himself onto Blizo. I have genuinely seen people call Stolas a sex offender. I don’t know how you get it that wrong. He made a joke, saying “you’re here to rravish me aren’t you?” And then that’s it. He did not force Blitzo to have sex. Blitzo is the one who chose to seduce him. Once Stolas realized Blitz was doing that, he got shy and nervous once again. Then the two did their thing and that’s the start of the main plot.

For some reason, people headcanoning Stolas as autistic is controversial, even if autistic people do it. As an autistic person, i can definitely see autistic traits in Stolas whether intentional or not. The same way I see BPD symptoms in Blitzo as someone who is borderline. There is no harm in headcanoning a character as autistic, y’all just hate Stolas. And probably won’t listen to me.

I get that this show is popular to hate right now. I miss when it wasn’t. Hopefully some day they all just leave us alone😭

(Opinion) stolas hate is based on fandom misinterpretations and not the actual show because when the fuck does he act like a “baby”??

Stolas is probably the most over-hated character in all of helluva boss. And some of the downright incorrect statements i’ve seen about stolitz drive me insane

Despite his childhood abuse, neglect and forced marriage, stolas has always been privileged. He’s set for life with wealth, has butlers and staff who feed him and care for him, and can freely travel through the human realm with no legal issues. Obviously, he’s going to have a skewed perspective on life.

Because of his forced marriage and parental neglect, stolas has never really known what love is meant to be. His father didn’t know his name because he’s a king who has a shit ton of children. Stella never loved him, and he never loved stella. They were only married to have an heir. Stolas has an over-dramatized and romanticized interpretation of love, which i think is where the ‘baby’ misinterpretation roots from. Blitzo didn’t want to fuck him, all he wanted was the grimoire. But stolas didn’t realize this and genuinely believed that his first ever friend was the one who wanted him the most. Can you see how this would fuel his romantic dreams further?

Stolas, to me, was always in love with blitzo. And (hot take incoming) did not look down on him. “But charlie, what about when he said ___?” We can go through all the quotes that supposedly look down on blitzo and i can give my reasoning as to why i dont think he sees him as lesser. Stolas has grown up with imps his whole life (butlers), and it can be argued that these staff had a closer connection to him than his own family. He’s taught to view imps as lesser, as in the hierarchy they literally are, but stolas has no issue with interacting with imps and, of course, letting an imp have intercourse with him. If stolas truly looked down on imps the way people act like he does, he’d interact with blitzo in a COMPLETELY different way. As in, he wouldn’t even treat blitzo like a human. Stolas loves blitzo so much he want to be his partner.

I will say, Hierarchy is a major theme in helluva boss with several callouts to how the ones who are higher up mistreat the lower class. Just look at mastermind. Satan doesn’t let blitzo speak. But andrealphus is allowed to talk as long as he wants. Blitzo would’ve been killed for using the grimoire, but stolas just gets a punishment. Because verbatim “your life has actual value!” It’s such an interesting theme that does not nearly get as much praise as it deserves

Another huge misinterpretation with helluva boss i see is that people think the show is trying to normalize cheating. And i’ll be honest, i can kind of see how this misinterpretation happens. As much as i adore this show, there are some writing flaws.

In my opinion, helluva boss is not trying to encourage cheating on your partners. It’s trying to show you that it’s okay to leave your abusive relationships to better your life. I may talk about this a different time because this post is mainly about stolas but god i love analyzing this show so much i just go on so many tangents.

Of course, stolas’ love for blitzo pisses of Stella. Not because stella actually loves stolas, but because she is proud to be a goetia and wants to uphold her royal, priviliged status and sees stolas as an insult to the goetic line. Her and Andrealphus’s motivation is to uphold goetia standards no matter how corrupt they truly are. They’re rich people. THEY are the ones who see imps as lesser.

THERE IS SO MUCH MORE I CAN GO INTO. How this affects Octavia and why she is justifiably upset at stolas, blitzo’s perspective, themes of the show, etc. if you wanna see my takes on these things LMK!!! I love this show dearly

If you want to counter my interpretation you’re welcome to do so, however please only do it if you’re wanting to do an actual discussion and not just trying to be rude. Some of y’all are so fucking rude to the people who like the show it’s crazy. Just be respectful and i’ll talk to you.

[ranwan-love]

Messages from "SHUNYA"

Aka lord shiva.

Hi dear kind people who came across this post of mine. I hope you all are enjoying pink of your life. I originally made this for Maha Shivaratri but due to some reason it stayed only in my drafts. Later on some good things happened 🥹, synchronicities too so I was called out to post this anyway even after festival is gone.

So you can take this reading as messages from lord shiva, divine father, universe or void as it's all same for me and i did reading from same energy.

I hope you endless growth and love, now close your eyes, take a deep breath and choose your pile!!

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Pile One

Cards: Queen of wands, six of wands, The empress

Hi dear Pile One. Welcome to your reading. Your energy is really passionate so let's dive in your reading. So first of all i saw top of mountain while channeling. Okay so according to messages I got I want to first acknowledge that you are a queen. You are already way ahead than you think. There are chances you already know that. But might be confused to change in your power, path. It seems like you are kinda curious about it because it seems unexpected. This is rather small change in your energy or surroundings which would definitely ignite a strong fire for you to discover more. Other than this everything seems fine in your element, growth, magnetism, sensual and knowing what you want. But this small change is taking you to a movement. Movement towards something better. It seems like a journey which is full of compassion, progress. It might be due to some Collab or actual travel with your people. You are being a empress from queen. Funny how cards came out which are related to spring and summer and this reading will be up during spring only. So there are chances it will start during spring and upcoming summer months. You know what I am getting so much attracted to queen card over empress and keep thinking if this queen will be empress how blessed people and her community will be. So you just don't have potential to be an empress but one of best empress.

This small change could be change in some sort of passion of yours or thought. I don't feel it's something that huge that will affect your 3D rather than your 4D which would put you in alignment to recieve more. I think you have plans to do something for people too. So just do it. You will be helped in it because it's a fated event.

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Pile Two

Cards: Seven of cups, Seven of swords, Ace of cups

Okay Pile two, along with Lord Shiva I guess your guides are present here too. What are you doing these days? Because I feel you are just daydreaming. Like I personally think day dreamers have great imagination and ability to visualise, they can probably manifest easily as well. But problem here is that you are not using your this ability for any good. You are decieting your own potential and probably betraying your younger self as well. It's like you can't even face yourself. If you have good potential but why are you wasting it so much. There's so much going on here at mental level, too much fantasy and material. It's like even if you keep daydreaming about good stuff it's not manifesting in 3D because first there's too much chaos, second your thoughts and emotions don't align. It's like you have good imagination, strong emotions but probably negative thoughts. I will say it clear that sit with yourself or you will accidentally manifest something you don't want or increase the thing which you are escaping from. You are being suggested here to ground yourself like meditate, walk on earth barefeet. Than journal, journal all you want, like first journal out emotions or excessive thoughts you are having or the ones making you restless. Then note down things you probably desire things you can do on your behalf, what needs to let go, what's taking your energy. It's like almost energy of"write till you can't". Because this reading should have been small but i keep auto writting out of control. So write till your head calms down and you ground. Like taking needed actions and working on the messages is taking you to energy of unconditional love and everlasting compassion aka Ace of cups. It will manifest both inside you and your outside world. You might also develope something in 3D which will keep giving you long term abundance.

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Pile Three

Cards: Queen of wands, Ace of pentacles, king of wands

Wassup my sexy Pile Three. First thing I channeled here was union. It can be union of yin yang inside you, or some kind of actual union with a partner or mate. If it includes other person just know that this person is exactly same as you. I don't know how to give words to it but you see you have to be equal when you are going through divine union. There's possibility this can be someone who will give you a collab or work related offer. It can be creative in nature. So if it's your own energies coming in union just know that you are manifesting something big. Almost a whole new path of abundance especially financial abundance. This time will make you pretty busy but focused with you work. Whatever will be created as a result of union the world is going to look upto it because it seems kinda big. To be honest it doesn't even seem in distant future or a long journey rather a walk to stage where you are being rewarded for what you have already done. This could possibly be result of co-creating with universe. It's like you did your work and let go. Universe did it work and here it's coming to finalizing. This is such a beautiful energy of abundance. It almost feels like you are manifesting here and there. Congratulations pile Three Good for you. It's a well deserved prize.

Okay did anyone came here from pile Two. I want to say if you feel like you are not in this energy now trust me you are doing alot of things you don't realise. If not now this energy is there for you in upcoming two-three months.

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I hope your chosen piles resonated with you. Please take actions on your guidance as well.

Do let me know how much of my reading resonated with you all. It will mean alot.

Genuine gratitude from depth of my heart🤎✨

[lulumangione]

as someone who’s autistic i also really get the feeling that luigi is on the spectrum and i have nobody to talk about it with because i feel weird like armchair diagnosing him😭

his mannerisms really give it away for me. he’s overly expressive and literally cannot talk without using his hands—and also he comes off to other people as maybe “suspicious” which i really relate to and honestly makes me sad because he’s just chilling!! he might seem like he’s up to something to some but he just seems to me like he’s naturally very antsy and maybe uncomfortable in his own body so he fidgets a lot. i’ve done that little half stretch with the arms raised too many times to count. that’s not even mentioning his little default stance with the hands clasped in front of him or that stupid face he does in pictures sometimes where he scrunches up and looks like he’s gonna bite a bitch

and before he went missing he mentioned to some people feeling “different” from everybody else, like he was on a different wavelength, and that SCREAMS undiagnosed autistic to me. the “npc behavior” he described being so concerned with feels like an extension of this—i think maybe he felt like someone whose feelings are so so big in a world that seems to not feel much at all anymore. that feeling of not belonging and being out of place is the most autistic thing anyone can experience and i feel for him so much. if he does happen to be on the spectrum i wish he could’ve found some kind of community of other neurodivergent people that get him and share similar struggles because maybe then he wouldn’t have felt so alone. idk this turned into a RANT sorry i’m very passionate about autism can you tell

NONNIE YOU'RE SO FUCKING REAL OMG Thank you so much for this ask, you expressed so clearly how I feel about it too!!

As a fellow autistic, at least in my personal experience, I can easily tell when someone clocks that I'm autistic, despite the fact I'm extroverted and a pretty confident person. I think Luigi falls under that too.

No matter how hard you can try to not seem that way, there will be neurotypicals that see it. They'll usually play it up as "weird" or "suspicious" like you said, I've had it a handful of times. It's just how we are, lol.

I think it's unfortunate that he found community in a bunch of incels online, but I can understand why he would be drawn to that despite how smart he is and how his brain ticks. We don't know him personally so there's no telling what his political thoughts are entirely. Man is an enigma in that sense – which also makes sense for being neurodivergent.

With such wealth and an overbearing family, it's easy to understand why he would just want to get away. Find peace outside of everything he'd ever known. I feel the same sometimes.

It also makes sense for his distaste for technology, or at least somewhat of it. We get overstimulated easily and the world was already going haywire and towards something unhopeful, flooding socials and the media in general, before all of this, so I can at least comprehend why he would want to disappear.

Luigi's Reddit posts I feel go more into him as a person outside of silly twitter posts, the way he would randomly info dump about things is a big tism flag for me.

(example, the sunglasses post, lmao. "Fun fact" babes, no one asked x)

I mentioned before how it can feel weird to talk about, but I genuinely do think it's okay to feel that connection, regardless of who it is.

(Btw pls feel free to DM me whenever!! I'd love to hear more on everyone's thoughts on this.)

[wwereaderinserts]

Hey @wwereaderinserts you think you could do that with Damian Priest and Rhea Ripley NSFW alphabet too?

Please 🙏🏾💗

So I've gone ahead and done the whole alphabet for this one and I chose Priest, though I did find doing the whole thing a little overwhelming so I will say that going forward I will do one character and 5 letters at a time per request.

NSFW under the cut, MINORS DNI.

NSFW Alphabet with Damian Priest

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex) He doesn’t even think about himself after sex until he knows for sure that you’re completely satisfied and taken care of. He’ll check in and ask if it was okay for you or if it was too much for you at all. He’ll hold you afterwards if that’s what you want from him, too.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s) On himself, his hands. It doesn’t matter if he’s just running his hands over your skin or groping certain parts of you, he loves the feel of your body under them and how good he knows he can make you feel with them. On you, it’s a tie between your ass and chest. He loves grabbing a handful of your ass during sex if he can, but he also can’t restrain himself from marking your chest up either.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically) He prefers to finish inside you, but if you don’t want him to do that, his second choices would be on your lower back or chest/stomach depending on positions.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs) He’s definitely dominant during sex, but he has this fantasy of you tying him to the bed and taking your time with him, letting you take control of the reins just for once. You both tried it one time and you used handcuffs. Somewhere in all the excitement, you misplaced the key and couldn’t find it anywhere after you two were done. He was cuffed there for about an hour and a half while you were pulling up videos on your phone to try figuring out how you could fully get him out of the cuffs. After that whole debacle, you both decided to stick to ropes for the foreseeable.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?) Oh he knows exactly what he’s doing, he’s very experienced. He could actually probably even show you a few things.

F = Favorite position The crab. He likes having you on top in general, but there’s something even more special about watching you spread your legs wider for him in this position so he can watch himself moving in and out of you. Being able to see just how much he’s splitting you open does it for him.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.) He knows how to have a laugh in the moment, of course, so he’s not strictly serious, but this man also means business. He’s not satisfied until your legs are shaking and you’re completely fucked out.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.) He definitely keeps it well maintained down there. Trimmed rather low, maybe even clean shaven if the mood takes him.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect) He can be rather intimate at times if it’s not just a quickie. There’s near constant eye contact, he’s whispering sweet nothings in your ear, kissing you so passionately to the point of taking your breath away.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon) Even before you got together, it wasn’t really all that frequent, so nothing has really changed there. He can go for a fair amount of time without because he’d rather get all his pent up energy out when he gets the chance to be with you.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks) Knife play. He’s not above taking one from his collection of weapons to use on you, not to scratch or anything more than that, but just for you to feel the sensation of it against your skin if he’s not using it to rip your underwear off. If he cools it off or heats it up slightly too? Whole different ball game from that sensation. Though if that’s a definite no from you, he’s not going to try convincing you to try it at all and he respects that.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do) Prefers keeping things private in the setting of your home or your hotel room if you’re on the road, but he’s not against finding a secluded spot and going for it with you in the car either if neither of you can wait any longer.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going) If he’s not totally beat after a long day, being upfront with him about what you want and that it’s him who you want it from is enough to get him going, whether it’s telling him directly or him walking in on you, spread out, ready and waiting there for him. Nine times out of ten, this man is gonna pounce.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs) He’s pretty open minded, but he’d never do anything that you didn’t want to do or anything that crosses your boundaries, nor would he hurt you in any way.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.) He likes receiving too, but he’s giving for his pleasure as well as your own. Give this man the chance to bury his face between your thighs and it’s like something snaps inside him, and he can’t get enough.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.) It depends on what mood he’s in. If it’s a quickie or if it’s been a while and he can’t wait to have you, he’s fast and a little rough with it. But if you two have the time to yourselves, he’s taking it slow and sensual with you.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.) He doesn’t mind them. He’d much rather be able to take his time with you, but he won’t turn down the opportunity for one if you’re also up for it. Even though it’s just a quickie, he’ll still leave you utterly satisfied.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.) He’s up to experiment a little bit if you are, though there probably isn’t much left that he hasn’t already tried at this point.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?) He knows how to pace himself, so he easily has two rounds in him at the very least which last quite a while.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?) He doesn’t personally own any himself, but he’s more than willing to use yours on you if you own any. He’s not opposed to them at all, he finds that it makes things even more fun.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease) He does like to tease a fair bit. He likes you pent up and begging for him. It makes all the build up all the more satisfying when you fully get your hands on each other that way.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.) He’s more of a grunter and a groaner, but you’ll be able to drag the odd moan out of him as well. He gets quite vocal too and he 100% will talk you through it, praises you, asks you how it feels, tells you that you’re taking him well, etc.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character) He might be a little obsessed with the size difference between you both…in many ways. He loves the way he towers over you, the way you drown in his shirts when you slip one on, how his hands dwarf yours, the way he can easily overpower you in bed, how you struggle to take all of him sometimes…the list goes on.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes) He’s a big boy. He’s on the thicker side, and his length isn’t anything to turn your nose up at either, so it’s probably a little intimidating to look at first off. I’d say he’s probably 7 inches in length at the very least. Has a few prominent veins and curves slightly to the right.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?) It’s not ridiculously high. He can survive without his fill of you for a little bit if you’re both busy, but he definitely doesn’t take much convincing to get down to it and it’s usually him that’s the instigator.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards) He’ll intentionally stay awake for a bit, just to make sure that you don’t need anything else from him at all. Even then, he doesn’t fall asleep easily after sex, unless you absentmindedly play with his hair while you two are cuddling together afterwards

[thegaissilent]

"Oh, Elphie..." Her hear stings once again and she wonders if it will ever stop hurting. She places a hand on her face gently, which is probably very stupid, but she does it anyway, to give her comfort as she always does.

(Maybe it took too long to realize but when had she never touched any of her other friends like that? Galinda is naturally touchy and comforting, but coming to think of it, she usually touches Pfanee and Shenshen on the shoulders or arm, even waist sometimes but she doesn't think she has ever held anyone's face as gently.

Perhaps not even Fiyero's).

"People are stupid and judgy. You... You should be the type of person people fall in love for. You're so intelligent and interesting to talk with." She should stop there. That was a good enough reason for someone to want to have someone like Elphaba as their partner, but once she starts, she just can't stop.

"And you have the most beautiful green eyes... I mean, yeah, it's a beautiful color but it's the way they light up when you smile or when you're talking about something that you're passionate about that truly makes them stand out. And your smile is really nice and it makes one feel safe and like everything is right in the world. You are gentle and so... Brave."

The one thing Galinda is not.

"You're one of the most amazing people I've ever met. And..."

She looks away for a moment.

"It would take a lot of bravery to be with you..." She shakes her head, realizing how that sounds. "Not! Not because of your skin color! Just... Being in love is really scary..."

Elphaba didn’t know if she was relieved or even more anxious that Galinda was awake. When she told her that it wasn’t her fault, she shook her head. “Of course it is. I made things weird and I…Oz, I shouldn’t have said anything.” This was exactly what her father was always berating her for—jabbering. And while she usually tried not to listen to him, especially here where his scolding couldn’t reach her, where she could be herself, being herself hadn’t gotten her too far in this case.

“And I shouldn’t have reacted like that. I just…” I don’t want anyone else. That was stupid, and worse. “You know you’re the only person who can stand me. And…well, I just don’t see love as something that’s in the cards for me. And that’s fine. I’m not the type of girl people fall in love with.”

[favorvn]

I recently played this and loved it so much! When I saw your tumblr I just had to send a little comment!! The game is great and I can not wait to see more of Z and the others as well as unlock the mystery for why the friend group is mad at us. Super excited and will definitely be following this game closely, even if it takes years 'cause everyone has their own lives and things to do. Definitely recommending it to all my pals!

Thank you for the kind words 🥰!

I'm working pretty tirelessly on the game, hopefully when I finally leave the writing stage and start working on art I'll have a bit more to show for it without spoiling the game haha.

It's taking a bit of time compared to the first two episodes because while I made the first two episodes on their own, I am currently writing the full game all the way through. It's turning out surprisingly long but I'm SUPER stoked about it!

I wanted to take the time to write the whole thing for a few different reasons, the most important being: to make sure the plot is as tight as possible. When writing bespoke each episode on it's own it can be hard to keep track of small changes and details (especially because I have a horrible memory!) So being able to write the thing as a whole product I think keeps my vision and makes it a more cohesive story (so, even if people guess what will happen I will not be changing it five night at freddy style).

That being said, I REALLY appreciate you and everyone who is being patient and kind during this process, I am just one person doing everything so it will take some time 😭 but believe me when I say that I'm suuuuuuuper passionate about this story and I want to finish this damn project so I'm working as hard and fast as I humanly can lol.

[mossheadmandy]

A useless metal history lesson because I'm intense and I love Eddie Munson

Featuring: Billy Hargrove.

You know...

I've always loved metal, from my early teenage years to now that I've turned 30. And since I started watching Stranger Things and Eddie came into my life, I don't think I've ever felt prouder of being a passive part of the community, but as much as I love fanfiction, understand and respect the need to write an OoC Eddie, mostly to be a little self-indulgent, there are things that I just WANT to share with you, simply because I can and I've been thinking about lately.

So, if there's something that always makes my soul burn with love, it's music; making it, practicing it, listening to it, study it in a philosophical, anthropological way, appreciating it in a peformative way, doesn't matter, I love it, and I love watching documentaries about the history of it, mainly, you guessed it: metal.

Now, I love me a Rockstar!Eddie fanfic every now and then, but I recently read a -very- unpopular opinion that rubbed me the wrong way about Eddie not actually liking metal, but pretending to like it while enjoying other music. Now, they're unpopular for a reason, and this is by no means a statement to dismiss a mere opinion, but it seems like someone discovered liking other artists while being actively part of a subculture. As a goth myself, and it being a music-based subculture, we know it's pretty much impossible to listen to a single music genre forever; you have to listen to the music to be considered part of the subculture, but that doesn't mean it's the only genre you have to listen to for the rest of your life. I'd go crazy if I only listened to a single music genre, no matter how much I love it.

Eddie LOVES metal, but not just any kind of metal, not the kind to come across when you look for "Accurate Eddie Munson Playlist" on spotify, for example. I'll tell you a little story:

Back in the eighties, when metal funded the bases of political views, sound, aesthetics and the public that felt drawn to it, was also the time it was mainstream. Many musicians were earning a good bag by making rock/metal, and to a lot of other aspiring musicians, it was never about the passion but about the money, they wanted to become rich by playing music that was being well-paid. Why do you think so many songs about **certain** glam rock bands are so trivial? Not that there's anything wrong with that, but when most metal bands sing about politics or fantasy stories, it looks like there's a stark difference between how metal started vs. how it ended.

In the history of metal, there are a lot of bands that want nothing to do with the genre because they wanted nothing to do with bands like Poison, Mötley Crüe, Quiet Riot, Twisted Siste, Jetboy or KISS, because it took the main purpose of the message of what metal once was.

Now, although not all glam rock bands talked about the same things, there is a difference with bands like Iron Maiden, Dio, Metallica, Megadeth, Anthrax and King Diamond/Mercyful Fate. W.A.S.P. was one of the glam rock bands that Eddie liked that had really interesting lyrics.

Why am I mentioning Billy Hargrove? Patience, my darling, I'm about to start.

Eddie, like I've said in a past post, is a storyteller. He's a Dungeon Master, meaning he has to get creative about writing stories for his campaings, dig in fantasy worlds, that's why he likes TLOTR, that's why he likes Dio and Iron Maiden, because their lyrics feed his wandering mind (likely ADHD) to keep him creating. I'll leave some verses of songs to make a point.

"...In the land of the lost horizon

Where the queen lies dark and cold

And when the stars won't shine then the story's told, yeah

When the world was milk and honey

And the magic was strong and true

Then the strange ones came and the people knew

That the chains were on

That the chains were on..."

Dio - Egypt (the chains were on). (The Last in Line, 1984)

____________

"...When you're lying in your sleep, when you're lying in your bed

And you wake from your dreams to go dancing with the dead

When you're lying in your sleep, when you're lying in your bed

And you wake from your dreams to go dancing with the dead

To this day, I guess I'll never know

Just why they let me go

But I'll never go dancing no more

'Til I dance with the dead..."

Iron Maiden - Dance of Death (Dance of Death, 2003)

_____________

"...You have been dying since the day you were born

You know it's all been planned

The quartet of deliverance rides

A sinner once, a sinner twice

No need for confessions now

'Cause now you've got the fight of your life..."

Metallica - The Four Horsemen (Kill 'Em All, 1983)

The fact that Eddie was a drug dealer and was two years behind graduation make people believe he wasn't smart, but the creativity needed for what he did, plus the amount of reading he probably did gets ignored constantly, because we think Eddie doesn't read, that Eddie doesn't have a sharp mind, that the only thing he does is play guitar (as if that enough wasn't to be praised, he likely learned Master of Puppets in a week with no internet and no youtube tutorials. I don't think you understand how skilled he was) and play DnD (and some authors don't know how sharp and smart DMs are).

Eddie was way more than that, and every time I think of his artsy nature, I can't think of anything else besides how much I want to lick his brain. Eddie was a genius, one dominated by the right side of his brain. Do you not remember his speech at the cafeteria about false comformity?

Billy, Billy... How are you featured in this post?

Oh, because the post about Eddie pretending to like metal made me think that it's actually a real thing. People pretending to like certain music genres because of the public image it gives them.

There are a lot of people in the community (mostly men) who like metal because they think it makes them look intimidating, badass and smart, like they like to brag about how the bands they like talk about things that matter in their lyrics but these fans don't live up to what they listen to; they're still homophobic, racist, fascist and a lot of awful things in between, while listening to music that's highly political. Billy liked Metallica, I rememer his "Kill 'Em All" poster stuck on his wall, but he was a douche. Do you know what he listened to? You might guess... Yeah! Glam rock! Ratt, Mötley Crüe, all the bands you think Eddie would listen to just because it says 'metal' and it happened in the eighties. Billy was a man worried about looks and getting laid, things that these musicians talked about in their lyrics. He wasn't sharp-minded, he wasn't interested in being creative, in bands protesting against war or telling fantasy stories about pharaohs, dancing with the dead or princesses and castles. The current image of the misogynistic rockstar surrounded by groupies and wasted on substances was an image created by musicians bragging the life they could afford thanks to rock and roll, nothing to do with the initial message of the genre. If you know anything about the main bands Eddie likes to listen to and Corroded Coffin's potential influences, you'd know they weren't really interested in living their music in Mötley Crüe way, where the main focus was, like I said, bragging about the things money from rock and roll gave them or the women (using them and stop seeing them like people while happily married), but in a sillier way where they focused mainly on writing creative music, writing lyrics for the outcast like them the way Metallica did.

Although there were a lot of iconic metal figures who were nothing but polite when asked about 'looks metal', who would roll their eyes at the question because the wording was disrespecftul towards those musicians, there is an undeniable rejection too. Lemmy Kilmister from Motörhead was respectful, he'd say he wished he was pretty too, that he didn't mind 'being copied'. Cliff Burton said that it worked for them, but wouldn't work for Metallica and that was fine. But James Hetfield said during a concert that they weren't 'a band who sang about girls and shouted rock and roll every few seconds'. I wonder who they were hinting at. (I'll look up the video to leave it here or to at least quote it verbatim).

Anyway, if you're curious about bands Eddie would have liked from the eighties, I'll leave a very scarce list so you can use them for prompts in your fanfics, just in case you want to be a snob like me and use bands with contents he'd appreciated:

Helloween

Ronnnie James Dio in any band (Rainbow, Dio, Heaven&Hell, maybe even Elf)

Savatage

Death Angel

Dark Angel

Sepultura

Witchfinder General

Cruel Force

Armored Saint

Diamond Head

Metal Church

Saxon

Crimson Glory

Just a name a few, I actually had a longer list I can't find and I'm not in the state of mind to search or try to remember, also to not make this post longer than it already is. BUT if you want more bands I'll be posting the list in a different post, and if you want me to tag you, just ask ♥

[lieutenantselnia]

How long do you want your title to be? Historical non-fiction: y e s

Last year I actually started making a proper list of films, series etc that I want to watch - something I've been wanting to do for a long time but never did. That probably caused me to forget about things more than once😂

I mainly started it for historical movies at first, because my history phase that I had when I was about 14 or 15 came back big time, and there's been some things I've wanted to watch since then already but still didn't! I knew about Downfall since like 2017 or so but didn't watch the full movie until last year😅 I'm having a lot of fun with it though since I've of course grown and developed through these past few years and have now more knowledge in general, more experience on how to do research and also a more reflective and mature thinking. Of course not all historic/history-inspired media is accurate (and I don't think it has to be for every purpose, like Hogan's Heroes is still incredibly funny even if the timeline doesn't always makes sense or ranks and uniforms don't match up). But I think it can be a great starting point for getting interested in a specific person or event and then delving into more detailed research about it.

I've also added some newer ones though that I didn't know about back then, or that didn't even exist yet. The list is really a great help for organising my brain. I've also started to add in things not related to history though (like Arcane - I still haven't watched season 2 rip - or The Dragon Prince). I wasn't sure if I should make a separate list for them but at least for now I just threw everything together in one. It helps a lot especially for series because I try to always write down which season and episode I'm at (I just didn't include that column in the screenshot) because sometimes I get distracted by something else and don't continue for a while and then forget where I was at😭

This was just a bit of random babbling but like this is kinda what I've been up to. I haven't actually continued on that many things in a while because I was too stressed with university, but I hope to continue soon. Also if you have more recommendations you're welcome to let me know👀 I'm currently mostly interested in the World Wars (there's so much to be learned about both but I think I really want to broaden my knowledge on WWI), the Weimar Republic/interwar period in general (also Austrian interwar history of course but to be honest I don't know if there's actually ANY movies on that), but also pre-WWI Austria-Hungary and the German Empire and like generally the 18th/19th/20th century (other countries too of course, but with these two I have many historical sites basically in front of my door, and as a native speaker a lot of primary sources are also relatively easy accessible to me). There is so much interesting stuff in history as a whole (I love watching historical documentaries about like any time period or country, there's always something fascinating to learn), these are just the ones I'm most focused on at the moment and want to study in a bit more detail!

[nekoyin]

so I saw this at class, did it, thought I posted it, turns out I didnt so TAKE TWO

ty for the tag <3 I'm gonna do my husband of almost a decade now Poe Dameron

1. Was there any specific point / any specific moment that suddenly made them your Blorbo, or did you slowly grow to love them more and more until they became a Blorbo to you? lowkey fell in love with that pretty ass face from the start THEN HE OPENED HIS MOUTH AND WAS SASSY??? also love me a man who'd punch a person in power that's hot 

2. What’s the thing you love the most about your Blorbo? uh uh uh yes (if I had to choose, his passion and want to free people from the First Order/the fact he's a revolutionary)

3. What's the thing you dislike the most about your Blorbo? the fact he's not real and kissing me rn :( (and that he risks his life a lot of the time to try and save as people as he can, it's noble, but it worries me ;;;;)

4. If you could talk to your Blorbo, what would you say to them? I love you. I'll always support you no matter what UNLESS YOU GO ONE SOME STUPID SUICIDE MISSION DON'T DIE I'LL CRY :(((

5. What's the one thing the fandom gets wrong about your Blorbo? I think that Poe being a flirt is a thing, but I don't see him being like this fuckboy that lays with people and doesn't care/forgets names afterwards. He seems the type to remember everyone's names, whether or not he is friends with them enough to sleep with them if that makes sense. 

6. Is your Blorbo an introvert or extrovert? Extrovert 

7. Describe your Blorbo in 3 words. pretty, brave, dumb (affectionate)

8. If your Blorbo were real, would you trust them with your life? Yes. Absolutely. He seems the protective type so I am SAFE

9. Do you talk to your family or in-real-life friends about your Blorbo? THEY ARE SO FED UP WITH ME YAPPING ABOUT HOW MUCH I LOVE HIM LMFAO 

10. Is there any crime, any wrongdoing your Blorbo could commit that would make you stop loving them and remove them from your hyperfixation entirely? Nah bro i lowkey like my men a lil insane so

11. Do you like seeing your Blorbo suffer? Mixed. Cuz I like angst, but I need a happy ending. 

12. Do you ship your Blorbo with any character? ME DUH (and kinda Finn but I relate to Finn a lot so what that say bout us)

13. If your Blorbo is from a live-action media, are you also a fan of the actor who plays them?  YAH he was my introduction to Oscar Isaac

14. Would you still love your Blorbo if they were real? YOU DO NOT UNDERSTAND. HOW BAD. I AM TRYING TO GET A REAL LIFE POE DAMERON TO DATE. PLEASE UNIVERSE ONE CHANCE ONE-

15. Is your Blorbo a victim of badly written script / bad plot / character assassination in the hands of canon? Yes imo and it makes me so so sad :(

16. If you could change one canonical thing about your Blorbo, what would it be? I think I'd change the fact that he tried to get back with Zorii, I don't mind her existence, but she was literally abusive POE BABY WHY ARE YOU ASKING TO KISS HER YOU SHOULD BE KISSING ME :(((

17. When you first discovered your Blorbo, did you realize from that moment that they would become your Blorbo? Oh I was torn between him and Kylo initially, but I knew I'd like Poe more for longer… didn't really expect this long though HAHAHA

18. Do you gatekeep your Blorbo? / would you want more people to know about your Blorbo? I TRY TO BUT HE'S TOO POPULAR :( People are like “oh I'm his biggest fan/spouse” and I'm like GET OUT YOU JUST JOINED THIS FANDOM IVE BEEN HERE SINCE DAY ONEEEEE /hj

19. Has a fanfic about your Blorbo ever made you cry? Thinking about him can make me cry. I'm trying to write a fic rn that the PREMISE made me cry (I’m sensitive)

20. Do you think this character will still be your Blorbo three years from now? I'VE BEEN HERE ALMOST TEN YEARS BABY IT AIN'T EVER STOPPING

uhh idk who to tag but @latenightbrawler pookie look at the thoughts about my husband

20 Questions

BLORBO ASKS GAME

reblog if you’d like people to send you asks about your Blorbo

was there any specific point / any specific moment that suddenly made them your Blorbo, or did you slowly grow to love them more and more until they became a Blorbo to you?

It was immediate. Watching Steven flounder then discovering the tragedy that is Marc. I started on the show, then began collecting the comics.

what’s the thing you love the most about your Blorbo?

I loved the representation of DID, autism and childhood trauma.

what’s the thing you dislike the most about your Blorbo?

We barely got any Jake in the show, and he’s such a fantastic character in the comics. Comic Jake is the only way I can imagine him. Moustache and all.

if you could talk to your Blorbo, what would you say to them?

Not a thing. He’d get a damn hug.

what’s the one thing the fandom gets wrong about your Blorbo?

I think every adaptation is unique to that person and they’re wonderful for sharing. I’m a hoe for every crumb I’m not even sorry.

is your Blorbo an introvert or extrovert?

Depends who’s fronting. Steven’s an ambivert: extroverted to avoid the feeling of loneliness, introverted in his hobbies and day-to-day. Marc’s a huge introvert and doesn’t like many people, how Frenchie puts up with him I don’t know. Jake is a natural extrovert, it comes easy to him to find a friend in anyone.

describe your Blorbo in 3 words

Damaged hot mess

if your Blorbo were real, would you trust them with your life?

Most likely… kinda. Squinting real hard at you, Khonshu.

do you talk to your family or in-real-life friends about your Blorbo?

My partner can’t get away from my obsession. My brother brought me the same MK action figure Marc's holding in the asylum. It was really unexpected and touching. They let me drag them all over the city stopping in as many comic stores as I could visit.

is there any crime, any wrongdoing your Blorbo could commit that would make you stop loving them and remove them from your hyperfixation entirely?

Mean to animals would make me very sad.

do you like seeing your Blorbo suffer?

Every damn day of the week.

do you ship your Blorbo with any character?

I ship him with anyone and everyone, it’s such a problem. I love all ships in all shapes and sizes. All the new ships coming out of Marvel Rivals has sustained me well lately.

if your Blorbo is from a live-action media, are you also a fan of the actor who plays them?

Oscar Isaac is one of the best humans alive. I love his face, his personality—everything. He made it easy to love the characters he plays.

would you still love your Blorbo if they were real?

Probably. I’d always be rooting for him that’s for sure.

is your Blorbo a victim of badly written script / bad plot / character assassination in the hands of canon?

Kind of. How they handled Jake suucked.

if you could change one canonical thing about your Blorbo, what would it be?

Make comics Jake canon!

when you first discovered your Blorbo, did you realize from that moment that they would become your Blorbo?

I didn’t expect to go down as bad as I did. It wasn’t until I started writing him in 1x1 & group roleplays was where I truly fell down the hole.

do you gatekeep your Blorbo? / would you want more people to know about your Blorbo?

No gatekeeping allowed in this house! I am thrilled anytime more people discover MK by any means. It’s so much fun seeing new people arrive and interact with the fandom.

has a fanfic about your Blorbo ever made you cry?

Not a fanfic, but episode 5 made me ball. Hit close to home. I’m not one to cry easily so have yet to find a fanfic that will.

do you think this character will still be your Blorbo three years from now on?

Probably, I still have a lot more to write and explore.

Questions posted below empty for easy copy paste:

was there any specific point / any specific moment that suddenly made them your Blorbo, or did you slowly grow to love them more and more until they became a Blorbo to you?

what’s the thing you love the most about your Blorbo?

what’s the thing you dislike the most about your Blorbo?

if you could talk to your Blorbo, what would you say to them?

what’s the one thing the fandom gets wrong about your Blorbo?

is your Blorbo an introvert or extrovert?

describe your Blorbo in 3 words

if your Blorbo were real, would you trust them with your life?

do you talk to your family or in-real-life friends about your Blorbo?

is there any crime, any wrongdoing your Blorbo could commit that would make you stop loving them and remove them from your hyperfixation entirely?

do you like seeing your Blorbo suffer?

do you ship your Blorbo with any character?

if your Blorbo is from a live-action media, are you also a fan of the actor who plays them?

would you still love your Blorbo if they were real?

is your Blorbo a victim of badly written script / bad plot / character assassination in the hands of canon?

if you could change one canonical thing about your Blorbo, what would it be?

when you first discovered your Blorbo, did you realize from that moment that they would become your Blorbo?

do you gatekeep your Blorbo? / would you want more people to know about your Blorbo?

has a fanfic about your Blorbo ever made you cry?

do you think this character will still be your Blorbo three years from now on?

Inspired by the wonderful @psycheetamore Hitting a few others I'd love to see do this! @mystra-midnight @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @faretheeoscar @moonbeammist @therapardalis @weheartchrisevans @silvermoon343

[t-u-i-t-c]

Taiya Hando in Bakuage Sentai BoonBoomger 01x48 Your Handle

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