#her name's anjali

[trueka]

old thing i never posted but magical girl who turns into bo peep

[spiderb00]

netflix and (not) chill

Lara Raj x reader 

“It was a good idea to watch a movie with your girlfriend, until you complimented one of the characters” 

Genre – Fluff   Warnings – None  (request)

Now playing – The boy is mine, By Ariana Grande 

"Okay, I think we've got it all here!" You said, walking up to your girlfriend, Lara, who was sitting on the couch in your apartment.   

Lara loved to go to your loft, it was cozy and away from the noise of the Kats. Not that she didn't love those girls, but whenever you two needed some alone time, this was the perfect place. Today, you and your girlfriend were in deep relaxation mode, and all you wanted was to watch a good movie and snuggle up together on the couch. 

The smell of the homemade pizza you two made was all over the air, and the bottle of wine you'd opened was already ready to be poured into the fancy glasses you'd bought for dates like this. It was Lara's turn to choose the movie, so after a long conversation she decided that you would see "Kabhi Khushi Kabhie Gham", an Indian movie, which according to Lara was "One of the best movies I've ever seen!", so you gladly accepted, excited to know more about your girlfriend's movie tastes and culture. 

"Then come join me, baby." Lara said as she patted the seat next to her on the couch.   

With excitement, you sat down quickly on the couch, snuggling next to Lara as you handed her a glass of wine, which you had poured.   

"All right, we can start." You say, before you press play, Lara turned her head in your direction.   

"Okay, listen to me, cutie. Whatever you're thinking of doing, save it for after the movie, I really want to watch it until the end." Lara said, knowing your history of almost never watching the movies until the end when the two of you are alone.   

"I promise, I wasn't even thinking about it, pretty girl." You say, showing your pinky, hoping that Lara would intertwine hers with yours. 

With a snort and a laugh of amusement, Lara intertwined her pinky with yours, pulling you lightly towards her and giving a small kiss on your lips.   

"See, you're the one who always starts-"   

"Shii, the movie is going to start." Lara said, smiling at the red-haired girl's antics, you started watching the movie, taking sips of wine and eating your slices of pizza.   

The movie was fantastic, you couldn't remember the last time you were so involved in such a long movie. You loved the filmography, the character development, the story, everything was simply artistic and very well thought out. Lara would make some comments about the movie occasionally, just talking about how she loved some scene and how she remembered watching the movie with her parents and sister.   

You really understood why she spoke so highly of the film, it was really captivating. You laughed when one of your favorite characters appeared on the scene, playing her role beautifully and making everything look funny and professional at the same time. You learned that the actress's name was Kajol (courtesy of Lara), and she played Anjali Raichand, married to Rahul, one of the main characters. 

"She's so funny." You said, a harmless compliment. "It's kind of charming, she's very beautiful." Another innocent compliment, at least for you.    

Lara, who was very focused on the film, had her attention diverted for the first time. Had you just said that a woman was beautiful in front of her? I mean, she knows she's an actress, and she's a lot older than you, and that you're probably never going to see each other in your life, but so what? Had you just said that a woman was beautiful in front of your girlfriend?  

You continued with your attention focused on the movie, not even noticing the enraged look your girlfriend was giving you right now. You know Lara is jealous from birth, but you didn't mean it badly, you just innocently let it out.   

Stretching your arm to place it on Lara's shoulder, you quickly felt the Indian girl shrug her shoulders, a silent motion to get you off her. Looking at her, you saw her arms crossed over her chest, the girl's eyebrows were furrowed, and for a moment you wondered if you had done something wrong.   

"Baby, what's wrong?" You asked, puppy eyes looking at the girl who seemed indifferent to your doubts.   

"Nothing, I'm just too hot here to be hugged." Lara said, shrugging once again, the girl's eyes glued to the TV. Oh, something was very wrong.   

When the movie was finally over, you stood up, putting the dirty dishes and glasses in the sink and coming back to tell Lara that you would go upstairs to the room in a minute, only to no longer find the fire-haired girl on the couch. Confused, you went back to the kitchen, washing everything very quickly and going up even faster.   

When you entered the room, you saw your girlfriend already in her pajamas, one of your shirts - which were too big on her - and only a black panty. Getting closer, you crawled until you were on top of the distracted girl on her phone, starting to distribute kisses down the back covered by the fabric of her (your) shirt. 

"You look so pretty in my clothes, baby" You said, startled as your girlfriend quickly turned on the bed, knocking you off her.   

"I thought I wasn't pretty enough for you." Lara says, getting out of bed and walking to the bathroom, starting to smear some skin care products on her face.    

Dazed on the bed, you stood up, still trying to process why she would have said that. 

"Baby, I don't understand. What does that mean?" You asked, scratching the back of your neck, leaning against the bathroom door frame.   

"Ask Anjali." That was all the Indian girl had to say to make you know why she was acting like that.  

"Baby, no. Please, let's not do that." You said, throwing your head back before approaching the girl who was looking at herself in the mirror of your bathroom, putting your arms around her waist.   

"Do what? I thought you thought she was pretty. Why don't you ask her what you were going to ask for me?!" Lara says, turning around in your arms and arching an eyebrow as she looks at you.  

Deciding to mess with the girl, you shrug, taking your hands from her waist and turning around to leave the bathroom.   

"Alright, do you know if she has Instagram? Maybe I'll DM her..." 

You barely finished speaking when you felt a tug on your shirt, pulling you back into the bathroom and pinning you against the sink.   

"YOU WHAT?" Lara said, a smile starting to escape you. "Yn, I swear if you laugh I'll snatch that little smile off your face!" Lara said, pointing at you with the sharp nails she wore.   

"Wow, calm down Freddy Krueger, I was just kidding." You said laughing and taking Lara's hand in yours.   

"What did you just call me?" Cutting off the red-haired girl's speech, you kissed Lara in surprise. 

Lara gave a small punch on your shoulder before giving herself completely to the kiss. You knew she wasn't really mad, she just wanted a little reminder that she was the woman of your life, and that you would always be with her.   

"Are you calmer?" You said, hugging the Indian girl and kissing the top of her head. "Look, there might be a thousand beautiful girls all over the world, they got nothin’ on you, baby." You said, rocking your body along with hers in your arms.   

"Did you just recite Bruno Mars?" Lara said, looking up to meet your eyes. A smile on your face, making the shortest girl mirror your action. 

"Of course, he gets the message across." You said, winking at her. But letting out a little "Auch" when the girl slaps you again, this time on your biceps.    

 "If a thousand beautiful girls were around you, you'd be wearing a blindfold."  

Oh, how you loved this woman. 

Hey guys, I love this request! It sure is Crazy Girl!Lara and Yn coded.

Speaking of movies, have you seen the Golden Globes? What did you think? I was particularly happy for Fernanda Torres and Demi Moore. I was hoping that Mikey Madison would win something from Anora, bc everyone was saying she looked fantastic in the movie, but maybe next time.

stay safe, I just learned about fires in LA, and I'm sending all the positive energy to the people who were affected by this.

xoxo, spider.

[trivia-yandere]

fuck it a look into "survival" with jin; apart of my valentine's day masterlist - dont judge ik it's only november :3

you apply to a dating-show in hopes of winning enough money so you and your sister can live comfortably. what you didn’t know that you would be competing to death for the heart of one man while those on the dark web watched.

“Let’s get something straight, ladies.”

Your eyes turn towards who is speaking. The woman is tall, her skin almond and seemingly shining beneath the golden lights of the mansion. Her hair is neatly slicked into a bun, not an out of place hair in sight. Her eyes are dark as they roam around the room at each one of the contestants. She raises a manicured hand, crimson nails going around to point at each of you - six women in total.

“This is a competition.” the woman says, lowering her hand. “You all are not friends.”

You don’t respond, opting to listen instead as the other women chatter amongst themselves. One thing for certain, you didn’t have to be told at all.

“For the past week, you along with hundreds of other women had fought diligently to be where you are standing now. This is your final challenge. Look to your left and your right, as you are now competing against your direct rivals.”

--

“Ladies.” the host says, nodding to you all. “Place your plates right here onto the table.” she says, motioning to the large, glass table behind her. There’s cards that sit about six inches from one another that have each of your names labeled onto them.

“Now, Kim Seokjin-ssi will test them all.” she proceeds to say as each of you gather back into a line.

Kim Seokjin.

Your eyes begin to widen as a man, tall and slender, begins to strut from up the staircase to where you all stood. Your eyes are fixed onto him - as are the other women. Your mouth parts a bit as he bows before all of you, a mop of dark hair bouncing.

“Hello to you all.” the man says, a familiar voice dancing through your ears. The same exact voice of earlier.

Kim Seokjin was not an older man, no. He was young; and maybe you should’ve guessed by his voice. However, he didn’t look a day over 25. His skin was clear of any blemishes and porcelain similar to a doll. His eyes are beady as he looks between the six of you. His lips, plump and pink, form a low smile.

Jin is sporting a solid, black dress shirt that he proceeds to cuff toward his elbows. His dress pants are baggy and brown, however not a wrinkle in sight. You ponder just how much his outfit is, as you were told that wealth such as him doesn’t talk, but whispers.

“Now, let’s see.” Jin says, clapping his hands as he turns away.

Jin eyes the array of food on the table, humming to himself softly. 

It takes 10 minutes for Jin to try it all. Ten long minutes of you all waiting in silence as he eats, nodding his head a few times and then whispering to the host, who would either snicker or respond.

“Siobhan.” Jin speaks, his back not turning to face either of you. The host does, stepping away from Jin. “Come closer, please.”

Siobhan does, her long locks bouncing onto her shoulders as she comes face to face with Jin. He’s a beauty of a man and instantly, your heart jolts. Jealousy, sure, yet you weren’t here for true love. This wasn’t the bachelor. You were here for money and that only.

“Chan-Mi…Luisa…you two, as well.”

Your blood runs cold, your palms beginning to sweat. You’re unsure what Jin is doing - if you’re about to be eliminated or not. Your eyes glance at the other two women left, Zarish and Anjali. You suck in a breath, turning your eyes back to Jin. It would be humiliating to be sent home so early.

“Your food is…”

You swallow as the man slowly turns, his arms now behind his back. The smile on his lips he sported 10 minutes prior had disappeared.

“Lackluster.” Jin murmurs, and instantly his right arm jerks, a dagger held tight into the palm of his hand. He slices Siohban’s throat as quickly as yall all seen it, the woman gasping and clenching onto her neck.

[abbysimsfun]

Sims In Bloom: Generation 2 Pt. 117 (A Genius Idea)

Ash and Pearl arrived downstairs to find their parents. "Mommy, the lights went out and the TV, too!" he cried.

Heather nodded. "Pearl's mom checked the electrical box out back and it's totally fried."

Dylan, an electrical engineer, spoke with Heather and Anjali. "I can't keep trying to patch around the same problem. That box is done, but the city says they won't be able to get someone out to replace it until tomorrow morning."

Anjali frowned. "That doesn't help us get tonight's meal on the table."

"I have an idea, but I need some beakers and some bubble gum," Ash said. The adults looked confused. "We can make a heating system with candles and metal trays!"

"What's the bubble gum for, buddy?" wondered Conrad.

"To hold them together! Bubble gum won't burn if we use it to secure the trays on the outside, and I can make it harden faster if there's a science table here!"

The adults were all impressed by his idea, and they set to work prepping a makeshift heating station to continue cooking the food. It would take longer this way, but at least everyone would eat a hot meal tonight.

Ash worked away at a rickety old science station donated by the local middle school, while Pearl glanced around the cavernous, dark shelter. "Hurry, Ash, it's getting dark outside!"

"It's only nighttime. It's not that scary."

"My mom says nights in the Spice District can be dangerous."

Ash tried to work a little faster. "It's okay, Pearl. Our parents won't let anything happen to us. Why did you take your coat off? It's cold in here."

"I run hot! My dad says it's genetic."

Once the food was in the makeshift ovens, everyone took a break outside, purchasing coffee and pastries from the cafe to enjoy in The Soup Kitchen's eclectic courtyard.

Chatting together at a long table, Heather's mouth dropped open when she spotted a face she hadn't seen in years. "Marcus Flex! Is it really you?"

Heather's first vet tech turned at the sound of her voice, breaking into a wide smile when he recognized her. "Doc Nesbitt! No way! What are you doing in the city?"

"Volunteering here with my fiance and my son."

"Man oh man, Ash must be so big now."

"I am!" he said, speaking up across the table. "Who are you?"

"I used to work for your mother, but I've lived here since I left town."

Heather nodded. "Are you and Thomasine doing well?"

"Things with us couldn't be better. I know I was a bit non-committal and flighty back when I lived in the Bay, but Thomasine changed me. I can't imagine spending my days with anyone else but her."

Heather smiled. "That's great Marcus. Are you working? I've been worried about you since you both left town."

He nodded proudly. "I'm in marketing now and she's a mental health nurse. We lived in a real dump of a place for a while, but then one day this woman knocked on our door and offered us a bigger suite in the building for the same rent. She just wanted to trade for a smaller place, and we thought she might be out of her mind, but she showed us her ID and she's never missed paying the landlord the rest of our rent."

"No offense, but that sounds a little suspicious," said Conrad. "Paying your rent and hers to live in a crappier apartment. Only a criminal would do that."

"Rafaella keeps to herself. If she's into anything, it's never affected us."

"What did you say her name was?" Heather said.

"Rafaella Santos, according to her ID."

Heather and Conrad exchanged tense looks. "What's the address of your old apartment?"

"910 Medina Studios. Back in the Arts Quarter. Thomasine works in the Spice District on weekends and I like to stop by to give her an afternoon coffee. I'm usually there by now, but she'll totally understand when I tell her I ran into you, Doc! I really am sorry I just took off all those years ago."

Heather shook her head, trying to keep her sudden mix of emotions from showing in front of Ash and Pearl. That was Conrad's old apartment, and this Rafaella Santos was probably using an assumed name. She noticed Conrad down the table - the same wild thoughts were running through his mind.

"It's alright, Marcus. It sounds like everything worked out for the best. And if you can let me know how to get the money to you, I can finally send your share of the proceeds from the VetConnect extension you helped me come up with."

"That's kind of you, Doc, especially after I left without a word. It's been great catching up with you. Thomasine's just about ready to speak to her father again - she thinks - so we might be back in Brindleton Bay for a visit sooner than later."

"It would be great to see you, Marcus."

They got up then to head back to work, but before Marcus had left with his cafe order to go, Conrad approached him. "This Rafaella Santos - can you tell me what she looks like?"

"She changed her hair colour recently, but she was blonde before. You could tell it was straight from a bottle, though. You really think she's a criminal?"

"I think she might be a drug smuggler. I don't suppose I could convince you to wear a wire?"

"She doesn't say much. I've tried to be friendly."

"If it's who I think it is, she's not friendly."

"Thomasine wouldn't want me getting involved if she's dangerous. I'd love to help you and the doc, but we've been talking about maybe trying for a kid."

Conrad nodded. "I get it. You've given us enough to take it from here. There might be some officers scoping out the building over the next little while, until we know it's her, so if you're serious about taking a trip to Brindleton Bay to see your wife's family, maybe now's a good time. Just stay out of 'Rafaella's' way. Don't let her think someone might be on to her, and don't tell her you saw us. Oh, and, be prepared to take over the full rent in the larger apartment soon. If we get her, those contracts will void."

"I'll talk to Thomasine, but I'm glad I could help. Thanks for the heads up, Lieutenant Gordon."

As Marcus turned to leave, Conrad's heart started racing. If his instincts were correct, Ximena had been hiding out in the last place he'd lived in San Myshuno all along.

Now Conrad felt just days away from finally catching her. ->

<- Previous Chapter | Gen 2 Start | Gen 2.1 Summary

Gen 1 Start | Gen 1 Summary

NOTE: Pay no mind to Ash's reindeer hat in the "genius idea" pop up. I sent them on the rabbit hole family volunteering event immediately after staging their Christmas Day photos. Didn't even think about changing their clothes since it was a rabbit hole. But then this pop up ended up dictating storyline so that's why he's wearing it in the inset but not at the lot.

Also the goal was empathy, but with Ash's genius trait and the pop up we got, he had the choice to solve the problem himself or call for help. Since his phone's been confiscated due to creepy pranks, there was really only one choice. His empathy bar didn't budge but his responsibility and mental increased. So his empathy is in low green territory at the moment (better than red!) and I'm hopeful he won't roll a douche trait. Since he's still got a ways to go until teenhood, I've got more time to play around!

NOTE 2: Second-save Marcus and Heather instantly became the best of friends while they reconnected, which is clearly because they're finally certain Ximena's within reach, all thanks to him!

[the-californicationist]

A Thief in the Night

a Guile & Guilt story…

It had been the longest night. He had started his journey in the dark, and forty hours later, he was still cloaked in darkness. As he climbed off of the train and into his old Jeep, he tossed his bags in the back, staring hard at the velcro label that had MacTavish stitched across it, the white threads steadfast despite the wear and tear that had befallen them over the past six months. Those bags contained his whole life. Everything from his toothbrush to his diary lived inside those canvas casings, and they’d been burned, stolen, stabbed, soaked, and sand-covered as much as he had. He wished, for a moment, that he were made of canvas. He wished he were interwoven, thick and impenetrable, unfeeling, unsensing… just a container. He wouldn’t need to breathe, to fight, to sweat, or to bleed. He would just need to hold and be held. But, he was not canvas. He was made of soft skin and bruised bone. Johnny MacTavish was but a man. The only salve he had to soothe that wound was that he was coming home.

Home meant rest, which was much-needed, but it also meant Pigeon, his fiery sister. He needed a bit of that warmth right now, even if she annoyed the fuck out of him most days. She was always running her mouth about what he should be doing with his life, but he knew she only did it because she cared. So, he took his lashings with a smile.

Her fiance had been the one to call him back. It must be an engagement. Nothing less would be deemed worthy of pulling him from the field. They knew how important his work was with the SAS, but life didn’t stop back home just because he was away. It was good timing, after all. Their recent tour had yielded decent intel, and he was free to take a few days to ruminate on their findings.

The Jeep’s engine cranked over with some complaint. Hamish, the fiance, had been driving it around for him, but he’d parked it about a week ago in anticipation of Johnny’s arrival, and it had definitely gone cold. He pumped the gas, praying that it didn’t flood, and sent up a prayer when it finally roared to life.

Leaving the lights of Glasgow behind was a comfort. He wanted his little cottage and his soft bed. Johnny wondered, fleetingly, if Pidge had been having the girls over lately. Sometimes, when he came home, there’d be a shirt missing from his collection, and his sheets would smell like lavender. That’s how he knew that she had been there.

He’d ruled out the usual suspects. Bekah was never one to sleep over, and Anjali smelled of rum cakes and soap. He thought it might be Cherise, but she’d never be caught dead in one of his shirts. So, it had to be the American. Pidge was over-protective of that one. She wouldn’t even tell him her name, but he knew she liked his old football tees, so she must have good taste. He’d never even seen a picture of the shirt thief, but he slept like a rock when his sheets smelled of lavender, and he needed that tonight.

Johnny took all the corners too fast, rushing to his destination, and when he finally got into the drive, the house was dark. He’d missed supper, so he aimed for the kitchen to steal Pidge’s leftovers. When he rounded the corner, he couldn’t believe his eyes.

There she was: that thief! She was in his blue Rangers’ tee, the one with McCoist’s name on the shoulders, his favorite one. It hung off of her body like a short dress, but as she went to reach for a mug from the top shelf, teetering on those bare toes, it rode up her body, revealing her thick thighs like a peep show. He could see the heart-shaped divot of her arse cheeks, but only barely. If she reached much further, he’d see it all.

So, he had to stop her. He didn’t want her to be ashamed. Letting out a low whistle, he conveyed his approval.

She was startled, and he watched the fear flood into her eyes like tears. It made them gleam in the low light of the kitchen, but she didn’t scream. The American was pretty, but that was to be expected. She was exactly his type as well, which was a damn shame. Pidge would be furious, but he didn’t care. He’d row with Pidge for the rest of his life to have a girl like that looking at him with those big eyes, framed with those wet lashes.

He wanted to get closer to her, so he did. He took a step into the kitchen, walking slowly, careful not to spook her like a wounded deer.

Johnny knew he must have looked like a goddamn terror. He’d brought in all of his personal gear, preferring to make one big trip from the car. He probably still had eye-black on his face. More than anything, he’d wished he’d had a shower.

He glared at her, trying to snap himself out of his daze, and he confronted her about his shirt,

“You’re a pretty little thief, you are. Better gimme back my favorite shirt, hen, if you know what’s good for you.”

A little bit of a threat would make her laugh, he thought. But, he realized quickly that she really didn’t know who he was, so he softened his features and smiled a bit, trying to retrace his steps.

“Johnny?” She said it like she was making a wish, and her voice made his blood run hot.

It was good to hear his name again. He was exhausted being Soap all the time. He’d earned the nickname, and it was fine when he had a gun strapped to him in the field; it reminded him that he was tough enough to be there. But here, in his own kitchen, from a bonnie lass wearing his own shirt? It was nice to be Johnny again.

“Yeah… who are you, lass?” He asked her, hearing her name and tucking it away for later.

“Ah, Pidge won’t shut up about you,” he explained, letting her know that he’d heard of her at least, “What’re you doin’ here a’ this hour? I just got in from my tour. Got a note from Hammie that it was urgent.”

Johnny dropped his bags and ventured a little closer to join her in the kitchen. The soft light from the stove cast delicate shadows over her body, highlighting her curves where the shirt swayed over her gorgeous breasts. She looked like a dream.

All he wanted to do was touch her. She couldn’t be real. She was too perfect. It was as if he was Adam and God had stolen his rib and made her stand in his kitchen.

That kettle behind her was about to scream, so Johnny reached toward her to take it off the heat, but she flinched as if he were going to touch her. He let a low, sarcastic chuckle rumble around in his chest,

“Easy. Just keepin’ the kettle from keenin’.”

He studied her reaction like he studied the schematics of a bomb, and he was desperate to know what made her tick. As he moved the kettle, Johnny was treated to a smile, which was as sweet as could be, and a quip.

“Good to finally meet you, Johnny. I’ve heard… so much about you.”

He grimaced a bit when he heard her comment. Of course they’d been spewing all sorts of shite about him while he was away. Pidge was terrible about spreading his reputation around, and almost none of it was true. If only she knew.

But, despite all the lies about his character, she stuck her hand out for him to shake. He took it in his and shook it once, dropping it and grabbing his own tea bag from the cabinet, plopping hers and his in their respective cups. She was watching him like a hawk, and he could almost hear her thoughts she was thinking them so loudly. He’d have to do some damage control, so he grinned and said,

“It’s all lies. So, what’s the craic? What was so urgent?”

“Hamish proposed,” she said, and even though he’d figured as much, it still shocked him to hear.

“You’re takin’ the piss.”

“No, it’s true. Look,” she pulled out her phone and showed him the video.

With a bubbling, roiling joy in his chest Johnny watched his sister agree to Hamish’s proposal, and he’d never felt happier.

Johnny leaned in closer to see his sister’s reactions, and although he didn’t realize it, he was now standing right over his tee shirt thief’s shoulder. He could smell her. It was lavender, to be sure, but there was something else.

If sunlight was a smell, she had it. It was like every spring day he’d ever had as a boy, rolling around in the heather, being wild, loving the earth and all of its mischief. She smelled just like that. Like something wholly natural. It made him want to put her back there, in the tall flowers, right where she belonged… in the heather… with him.

His mind went back to his sister, and he asked about her,

“Tha’s fuckin’ brilliant. She’s asleep?”

He didn’t wait for her answer. Johnny needed to back off of the wee thief before he stole her away. Treading off down the hall, he knocked on his sister’s door. As she opened it, the wood creaked and popped from age and weight. He made a mental note to oil it tomorrow morning.

Then, there she was. Bridgette had always been pretty, but she looked like she had a glow tonight. He basked in her joy.

“Johnny-boy? Is that you, you fuckin’ numpty!? Brother,” he grabbed her as quick as he could, and as she was crushed to his wide chest, she confessed, “I’m getting married.”

“Let’s see it, then, Pidge.”

She showed him the ring, and he admired it. But, he wasn’t one for diamonds, not when there was something more valuable to be had. He cocked an eyebrow at Pidge and asked,

“You put a fit lassie in my shirt as a part of the occasion, or… what?”

She slapped him across the chest, hard, and then gave him a dark warning,

“You. Will. Not -“

“I dinnae ken what you’re abusin’ me for, Pigeon! I’m a saint!”

He loved giving her a hard time. She rolled her eyes, and fastened them into her signature glare,

“Johnathan Fergus Euan MacTavish, she’s off-limits! You’ll not lay a hand on that girl’s pretty wee head, or I swear on Mother Mary and all the actual fuckin’ saints…”

He couldn’t have that. She was already his in his mind. He’d never seen anyone more beautiful in his life, and his sister was overreacting again. Johnny pointed a finger at her, threatening,

“No promises, Pidge. If she wasn’t such a smoke show, you might have had a dog in the fight, but a gorgeous wee hen making tea in my kitchen wearing my fuckin’ shirt; it’s enough to make a lad start sinnin’.”

“Start! Tell me when you stopped. Is she out there? Oh, fuckin’ hell, you arsehole.”

Pidge pushed around him and stalked off to the kitchen. The thief was still making tea, and he watched his sister try to run interference, but she was too late.

There’d been enough war for him to last him three lifetimes. Johnny was pretty sure there was still terrorist blood stuck under his nails. Enough was enough. He was good at his job, but he had to admit, he was lonely.

Every tour brought the same darkness to his doorstep. He’d leave Pidge with Hamish, and they’d have each other. They didn’t miss him, not in any real sense. No one did. No one kept him in their mind, missing him and his scent and his voice and his touch. There was no one longing for him to return.

But the thief might.

There was something in her eyes that told him she might. And now, he had to know if he was right. Besides, no one would ever look that good in his shirts. She was his new mission, and he was damn good at running missions.

“Babe! You met Johnny?” Pidge looked red in the face, and Johnny sighed, embarrassed about his sister’s meddling.

“Yeah, just came home. Showed him the video,” you shrugged.

Good. She was covering for him already. She didn’t complain about his bullying, nor did she mention his fearsome choice of dress. She was brushing Pidge off, keeping it casual. Johnny didn’t get lucky often, but he felt like it tonight.

“Great, this is just great,” Pidge forced a smile onto her face, but Johnny didn’t care. This was great, and he wasn’t going to let this chance pass him by.

xxxxxxx

@sadsackssss @lovelythingsinternal @kariggi @cherryofdeath @madstronaut @glitterypirateduck @vampirekilmerfic @sofseee @gemmahale @ofdivinity01

[phuljari]

social media au! part 2

summary : khushi is a model and influencer; arnav just seems to stumble upon her profile one day— not so much by accident. (or what if khushi fell in love at first sight?)

warnings : just some hindi/hinglish, cussing in both languages. deliberate typos. online stalker!shyam. flirting with the boss

a/n : i am...trying something new (by using the word prompts) #IPK 13th Anniversary Fiesta @arshifiesta

hellohibyebye

liked by aakash_r, amanmathur, gulabo_devyani, anjaliiiii.r, mahendrarudrapratapsinghraizada, hari_prakash and 137 others

hellohibyebye haaye! ekdum vaijanthimaala laagat hai hum😍🥰

⚫kaala tika najar na lage e ke khatir⚫

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aakash_r Maa group pe daalne ko bola tha, Instagram pe nahi 🤦

gulabo_devyani Manorama! Ye Hear. hum aapko diye naahi the... Toh kaisan aap pehen liye?

anjaliiiii.r Mamiji 👌😍

mahendrarudrapratapsinghraizada Thoda vakht nikal ke humare saath bhi ek-do photu khichwaye leti!

⤷hellohibyebye aap photo me bilkul handsome.... nahi laagat hai 😒

hari_prakash B//J...K>';edxnnnnddd

iMessage "Raizada Group"

Aakash Maa aapne instagram pe post kar diya 🤦

Manorama toh ka hui gawa? hainn

Mahendra Bohot sundar laagat hai tumhari amma 😊

Akash liked a message

Manorama liked a message

Devyani Humra. Haar. Dena mat bhulna. Onmanorama.

Anjali Arre Aakash, karne do yaar, umar hai inki 😌

HP Ji Naniji, hum abhi wapas rakhwa dete hain

HP hhhhhhhh?/?????

Aakash HP yaar tune firse phone bandh kiye bina pocket me rakh diya... buttdial nahi, yaha toh butt-typo hote hain😶

Anjali 😂😂🤣🤣🤣

Arnav seen

Anjali Chotte yahan bolna mana nahi hai!

Arnav: Di, I'm in a meeting right now. Ttyl

Anjali: Arre, chotte 🤦‍♀️

Manorama added NK to Raizada Group

NK: Hello bhaiyyon aur bhabhiyon

Anjali: Bhabhiyon nahi NK bhai, beheno!

NK: Haan wahi Di! You understand me so well!!

Aakash: 😂😂

Arnav left Raizada Group

NK: Oh no Nannav! Tum kyu chale gaye

Aakash: You know that he can't see the messages now right?

NK: Oh, Whoops! Wait

NK added Arnav to Raizada Group

NK: Nannav mere bhai!! How are you??

Arnav: Isn't it like 3 AM in Sydney?

NK: Nannav, naughty naughty, tumne time check kiya mere liye! So cutee! I'm at your home doofus 😂

Arnav: gtg

Arnav left Raizada Group

iMessage

Anjali: Ye har baat pe chotte group kyu leave kar dete ho?

Arnav: Di! WTF ye NK kya kar raha hai Shantivan me?

Anjali:😶‍🌫️

iMessage

Aman: Sir, we have officially signed Ms. Khushi Kumari Gupta!

Arnav: Good

Arnav: Kumari?

Aman: That's her middle name boss

Arnav: Oh, okay

iMessage

Aakash: Bhai, you signed THE KHUSHI GUPTA??

Arnav: Yes

Arnav: And she's not that popular c'mon

Aakash: Bhai do you even use instagram? 😭

Arnav: Of Course!

Arnav: Btw I have more followers than her 😒 So much for "influencer"

Aakash: That's her personal profile Bhai! You have to see @/thekhushigupta

seen

thekhushigupta

liked by divalavanya, payaliyaa, guptagarima, aakash_r, shyamjha, versace, arnavsinghraizada, saritaraman and 396,981 others

thekhushigupta @/versace thank you for sponsoring my cannes debut

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saritaraman You dancing on hawa hawaii at cannes was the only thing left for me to see😭

⤷thekhushigupta all thanks to you babe <3

payaliyaa My babie sisterrrr 😍

⤷thekhushigupta jijiiiiii 😊

guptagarima Ae Khushi isko chalu kaise karte hai

versace It was our honour! 😍

aakash_r Amazing performance👌

shyamjha khushiji aapka koi boyfriend hai kya? 😭

divalavanya Bestie 💖

⤷thekhushigupta right back at ya! 💖

user1 i love the dressss

user2 just one chance khushi pls pls

user3 it was so cheap idk why ppl idolize u

⤷user1 get tf outta here

shyamjha hosh rubaa😍

nandiii khushi jiiiiii 💘

⤷thekhushigupta nanhe jiiiiii

nandiii

tagged: @/emirates @/anjaliiiii.r @/aakash_r

liked by aakash_r, anjaliiiii.r, gulabo_devyani, mahendrarudrapratapsinghraizada, hari_prakash, hellohibyebye, thekhushigupta and 806 others

nandiii So excited to meet you guys!😭

view comments

anjaliiiii.r Pooja ki thaal tayyar hai NK Bhai

⤷gulabo_devyani Aapan. Ka. hi intezaar hai Bitwa.

mahendrarudrapratapsinghraizada Return flight book karke nikle ho ki naahi?

⤷nandiii Now why would I do that Mausa Ji? 😊

thekhushigupta nanhe ji! iss baar aap mile bina nahi jaa sakte 😌

⤷nandiii Aapse hi toh milne aa rahe hai Khushi ji! It was fun to hangout with you while shooting in Portugal last year! 😊

hellohibyebye humre khaatir oo gucci peck kiye ki naahi?

⤷nandiii Maasi ji aapke liye toh chanel, gucci, versace sab haazir!

hari_prakash Ccooffee lenge?

Notifications (arnavsinghraizada)

thekhushigupta followed you

titaliya_k followed you

payaliyaa followed you

Notifications (thekhushigupta)

arnavsinghraizada followed you back

shyamjha unread 1475 messages

shyamjha commented on your post: hosh rubaa 😍

shyamjha commented on your post: khushiji aapka koi boyfriend hai kya? 😭

usershyam hume aap bohot pasand hai khushiji

iMessage

Khushi: he followed me back omgomgomg

Lavanya: ???

Khushi: ajgar

Khushi: arnav*

Lavanya: 😂😂

Lavanya: You didn't stop talking about him last night oh god

Khushi: i know ur friends were so pissed😭

Lavanya: Nooo, why would you thibk that

Lavanya: And look at you crushing so hard on ASR!

Khushi: you've met?

Lavanya: Briefly

Khushi: 🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺

Khushi: I'm gonna slide into his dms wish me luck

Lavanya: Khushi wtf

Lavanya: Khushi come back you son of a bitch

Lavanya: Istg Khushi pls don't make a fool of yourself in front of your new boss😭

Lavanya: Khushiii??????

seen

(1) message from thekhushigupta

thekhushigupta: hey

arnavsinghraizada: Hi?

thekhushigupta: we met the other day

arnavsinghraizada: Yeah, you bumped into me, how can I forget?

thekhushigupta: omg i'm really sorry for that😩

thekhushigupta: can i take you out for an apologetic dinner?

thekhushigupta: tonight?

arnavsinghraizada: Are you...

thekhushigupta: asking you out? yes

arnavsinghraizada liked a message

TBC

<previous> | <next>

[pyaargulzar]

guidance (pt. 1)

summary: khushi awaits arnav's arrival from the office desperately, craving his presence in one way more than others. arnav uses the opportunity to provide her with some guidance.

genres: romance, angst, smut, fluff-ish

disclaimer: this is a one shot that centers around a mature subject but doesn't really delve into smut. part 2 may or may not .

double disclaimer: gentle reader, i'm new to this genre but wanted to explore it, hope you have fun reading~

Khushi had spent the whole day wearing herself out. Cooking up a week’s worth of food, organizing the already spotless pantry, washing clothes that didn’t need washing. She was trying to keep busy, trying to exhaust herself to the point where her brain and body would beg for rest—and rest only. 

But no matter how many tasks she piled onto her plate, her thoughts kept circling back to him.

She was yearning for her husband like never before. In a way that felt wrong to her—too intense, too consuming, as if she were losing control. It was such a foreign feeling, an uncontrollable urge, an inextinguishable fire rising within her.

Ever since she’d caught sight of Arnav that morning—his damp hair clinging to his forehead, water droplets trailing down the planes of his bare chest, the low rumble of his voice as he’d said her name—her heartbeat had quickened, palms growing slick with sweat.

The feeling was so intense, so unrelenting, that she kept clenching her thighs for relief, but it was no use. Her nipples tightened painfully, a sharp, insistent reminder of the desire coursing through her veins.

Every breath felt heavier, every movement more deliberate, as if her body was betraying her with its need. The memory of him lingered, taunting her, refusing to let her focus on anything else all day.

Arnav barely glanced her way, already on a call before his first cup of coffee. His week had been a blur of deadlines, and now, with the final review of their proposals looming, even her presence seemed to fade into the background.

Usually, Arnav was attuned to Khushi’s emotions better than she was herself. He had learned to read her body, to understand the subtle shifts in her posture, the flicker of hesitation in her eyes. He knew she was still learning to trust him, still grappling with how to voice her needs—especially the physical ones. To him, it was a work in progress, a quiet mission: to get Khushi comfortable, both in her skin and under his.

And now, as she stood in the kitchen with the steel strainer in hand, she realized the only thing she’d successfully accomplished was burning her last batch of jalebis.

The sweet scent drew Anjali and Paayal to the kitchen at separate times, their concerned glances lingering as Khushi assured them everything was fine.

Truly, there wasn’t any reason for concern. It wasn’t like she had fought with Arnav that morning, and everything at home with her family was okay as well. In all honesty, Khushi herself did not know what the problem was.

All she knew was that every thought of Arnav sent a jolt through her, leaving her thighs clenched and her breath shallow, as if holding back a flood she couldn’t name.

Each minute passed by agonizingly slowly after Arnav called Khushi to let her know he was on his way home—a small but significant gesture he made every day. It was his way of telling her that, even amidst his busy schedule, he had spent his day thinking of her, his beautiful wife.

Khushi sat in the living room with the rest of the family for evening tea, her fingers fidgeting restlessly in her lap. She tried to act normal, but her thighs kept clenching and unclenching of their own accord, betraying her inner turmoil. Her body was a live wire, every nerve ending alight with anticipation.

“Khushi, are you okay? Did you and chhote fight?” Anjali whispered beside her, her eyes narrowing at Khushi’s restless hands.

“N-no, everything is fine!” Khushi stammered, snapping out of her trance. “We haven’t fought, Di,” she added, forcing a calm tone into her voice.

“If you say so,” Anjali chuckled, though her gaze lingered on Khushi for a moment longer out of concern.

Just then, the front door opened, and Khushi’s breath hitched. She couldn’t bring herself to look up at Arnav, terrified that a single glance would unravel her completely in front of everyone. She was grateful when the family’s attention shifted to Arnav and Akaash, their chatter filling the room as she tried to steady herself.

But she could feel him. His presence was always like a magnetic pull, his electrifying gaze burning into her even from across the room. Her heart raced, skin prickling with awareness.

Just a little peek won’t hurt. I’ve missed him so much today, she reasoned with herself. Cautiously, she glanced up, relieved to see everyone engrossed in conversation. Her eyes trailed up Arnav’s form slowly, taking him in bit by bit.

The way his slacks hung on his hips sent a jolt of heat through her stomach. His waistcoat cinched his defined waist, accentuating the broad expanse of his chest. Her gaze lingered on his wide shoulders, the fabric of his shirt clinging to his muscles in a way that made her mouth go dry. The same muscular arms she clung to when he—

She gasped, cutting off the train of thought, her cheeks flaming. What is wrong with me? she scolded herself, but her eyes betrayed her, drifting shamelessly to his lips. A blush crept up her neck as she fought to push down the thoughts threatening to surface.

Her eyes darted further up before she could stop herself—and she instantly regretted it. Arnav was staring straight at her, his gaze unreadable but intense. That single look was enough to send her spiralling. Her thighs clenched involuntarily, and she shot to her feet.

“I-I have to, umm, clean up something upstairs,” she announced abruptly, avoiding his eyes as she made a beeline for the stairs. She could feel his gaze on her as she fled, her heart pounding in her ears.

Once she reached the stairs, she broke into a run, sprinting up to their room. Her body was on fire, every nerve alight with a need she couldn’t name. It felt like an unquenchable thirst, a hunger that gnawed at her from the inside.

She burst into their room, slamming the door behind her, and leaned on the cool glass of the sliding doors opposite to the pool, gasping for air.

Her entire body was ablaze, her mouth dry, her heart racing wildly. The emptiness between her thighs was unbearable, and the ache only grew worse as she clenched them together. Her nipples were so hard they hurt, and she worried they were visible through her dupatta, which she hastily pulled lower.

Her forehead found the cool glass of the door, and she gasped at the relief it brought. But it wasn’t enough. Nothing was enough. What is happening to me? she thought, her mind spinning. What is this?

She was so consumed by her thoughts, that she didn’t notice Arnav entering the room. His footsteps, usually so deliberate and impossible to ignore, were drowned out by the pounding of her heart and the rush of blood in her ears. By the time she sensed his presence, it was too late—he was already there, closer than she’d expected, his warmth radiating toward her like a magnet.

“Khushi? Are you okay? What’s wrong?” His voice was laced with concern as he took in her disheveled state.

Khushi let out a startled yelp, as she pressed herself closer to the glass. He grabbed her arm gently, turning her around to face him, his touch leaving a trail of fire on her skin. She gasped, her body reacting instantly to his proximity.

A familiar wetness pooled between her thighs at his mere touch, and her face twisted in frustration, worrying Arnav even more. “Khushi? Look at me, please. What happened? Did someone say something to you?” His voice was soft but urgent, his eyes searching hers.

He had noticed her the moment he entered Shantivan. There was an unfamiliar heat in her eyes, a tension in her body that sent a thrill through him. And when her gaze had trailed up his form downstairs, it had taken all his self-control not to react.

“I don’t know what’s happening, Arnav,” she breathed out, her voice trembling. “I-I think something’s wrong with me.”

Arnav’s brows furrowed. Did she just call him Arnav? Not Arnav-ji? His mind raced as he took in her flushed cheeks, her rapid breathing, the way her body seemed to hum with restless energy.

“Okay, what’s going on Khushi? You’re burning up—it might be a fever,” he murmured, half to himself as he stepped closer. His hands reached out instinctively, pulling her into a comforting embrace.

As soon as their bodies touched, Khushi let out a soft groan, her sensitive peaks hardening even more against his chest. Arnav’s breath hitched at the contact, his own body responding to hers.

It was then that the pieces clicked into place—her erratic breathing, her feverish skin, the blush creeping down her neck.

Khushi wasn’t sick. She was aroused.

author's note: AAAND scene~

part 2 is in the works 👩‍🍳 still figuring out my writing schedule and frequency. i wanted my first work here to be soft and fluffy (more of that to come, i promise!) but i finished writing this first so here she is in her glory.

[jalebi-weds-bluetooth]

Hi,JWB.

I want to know what do you think about Anjali not defending Shyam when Arnav slapped him & threw him out of the house? Why didn't she try to leave the house with Shyam while she left the house on Raksha Bandhan clearly knowing how it would effect Arnav? She tried to kill her child just because no one respects shyam, then how come she stayed in Shantivan, where no one respects her husband ? She was upset to see Arnav celebrate Khushi's birthday, that too in their own room, where she had gone without knocking. Does she expect Arnav to leave khushi just because she doesn't like khushi anymore Like the way she is away from Shyam because Arnav doesn't like Shyam anymore?

She was upset that Arnav-khushi lied to her about Buaji's health, but she herself went behind Arnav to meet Shyam without any regret. She never asked Arnav why he destroyed his life by marrying khushi just to protect her married life. She doesn't say anything to Shyam during the second revelation about Arnav's kidnapping while, all the time saying Arnav is like her first child. Then she slapped shyam because he killed her rajkumari, whom she herself wanted to kill & had no regret about. A lot of her actions indicates that she wants Arnav to be happy as long as she is happy in her own life. If something inconvenience happens in her life, then he expects Arnav to be there for her, leaving all his other responsibilities. Does that not imply she is selfish ?

Thanks.

Hi Anon,

No, Anjali is not selfish. Definitely not in this phase of her life.

Anjali does not leave because she has nowhere to go.

Her and Shyam's house is under renovation and none of the Raizadas would let her go.

She has no money in her own name, it's most likely Anjali's shares in AR or whatever Arnav has in her name. And Anjali would consider that money, in this circumstance, as Arnav's.

She did not leave the house in previous Rakshabandhan to make a point to Arnav - it's that Arnav literally told her that Shantivan is his house. Not hers. She felt she overstayed her welcome which is why she ran away, feeling lost.

The birthday thing was oddly shot and directed tbh. The thing is every single proof that Khushi had against Shyam was proven false.

Arnav's words against Shyam would not matter because ultimately it's a situation where both the siblings are supporting their respective spouses.

And remember, Anjali has been in an extremely happy relationship where if there's ever been any doubt, Shyam has cleared it.

Also, no one knows where Shyam is because he was not arrested/taken away by the police. Why? Because there's just no evidence of him having done anything at all.

So the best rationale for this situation is that this is a misunderstanding. Because nothing else makes sense. And Shyam is an expert manipulator. He knows everyone's pulse points.

Also Anjali's whole life shattered. It is not her responsibility to ask people for reasonings - rather it's Arnav, Khushi and the whole family's responsibility to give Anjali a full blown explanation of events to Anjali so she can understand how and why things went the way it did.

And only Shyam is the one talking to her, explaining things. Everyone else is just trying to feed her, give her meds or make her go to sleep.

Anjali was concerned for Khushi and her family, despite all the pain and trauma and misgivings, upon learning Buaji's ill health. And yet again she's proven a fool for believing in Khushi because Bua ji is in perfect health. So why did Khushi lie? There's literally no reason for Khushi to lie about Bua ji's health but she did.

And even Arnav had to have participated in this lie because that would explain why he's away.

Anjali wanted to attempt self harm - just so you know the way she was attempting to abort would've killed/gravely injured Anjali herself.

She was being suicidal which kinda deals more with fractured mental health. Anjali never asks Arnav to leave Khushi, but she doesn't understand why Arnav and his marriage is more right than Anjali and Shyam's.

Arnav has been married for a few months. They barely know Khushi for a year. It's funny they know they family for less than a year and both the sisters from poorer backgrounds immediately got married into the only two bachelors in the Raizada family. It's public knowledge that Arnav and Khushi do not share the best of a relationship.

Anjali and Shyam have been married for years. Shyam has shouldered many of the emotional responsibilities in the household. He has truly kept everyone happy - including Anjali.

Shyam has only ever had the warmest of the relationship with Anjali and has apparently not upgraded himself using her wealth - it's very clear that they're living on his means, not hers. Yes, Anjali's clothes and jewelry are a gift from the Raizadas or Anjali's own purchase but you compare Shyam's clothes with the Raizada bros, or even the fact that it's implied they have a humble home.

And what other responsibility does Arnav have if not caring for the only immediate family he has left? He has no parents, his wealth takes care of his extended family, AR is secure as a company and he doesn't have much of a marriage with Khushi (he takes NO responsibility as a husband, he's literally just learning how to be a partner right now).

I know we are guided to dislike Anjali more because she is the issue between Arnav and Khushi getting their happily ever after but again the real conflict here is Khushi hiding the truth and facing the disastrous after effects of her actions and Arnav's inability to hold relationships.

Arnav does not know how to manage a crisis. His relationship with people is far more executed by the people on the other end and his arguments/mistakes are dealt with a sincere sorry and he expects the forgiveness to be given to a certain extent. Literally all of his relationships exist because the other person puts in work. At the barest friction, he pulls back and gets angrier. So he does not know how to navigate crises and tension with the people he loves.

Khushi on the other hand, she believes pure intentions justify everything and hopes that that will mend bonds.

Like literally Shashi forgives her for Payal's marriage debacle because he understood her intentions. Arnav seeks sorry for the barsi thing because she has a similar trauma as well and did not realize she was comforting out of empathy. Nani forgives Khushi because she realizes Khushi meant to preserve the peace of the Raizadas by hiding Shyam's truth. Payal forgives Khushi because she realizes that regardless of the horrible timing, Khushi wanted Akash and Payal to mend their differences.

So you see.... Khushi actually doesn't ever try to rectify her mistake because she feels explaining things is enough. Which, tbh, it never is.

So in this situation, Anjali is entirely blameless.

We loved Khushi when she supported Arnav despite having DNA evidence that Aarav is his son right? We love other show heroines blindly supporting their heroes. Like all the women in Ishqbaaz?

The same applies to Anjali.

Except, this heroine is in love with the villain.

Best,

Jalebi

[phinjeet]

yuri phinjeet is this anything

* itz EVERYTHING cupid . r theze dezignz anything

* (NOT Genderbendz tm i HATE genderbendz (az a tranz person) this iz tranzfem hc town now dont piss me offfffff/nmay)

* (little notez under the cut)

* baljeet -> anjali

* phineas -> penelope (or penny/pen)

* (ive been fascinated w penelope az girl phinz name ever since that 1 tweet abt how the pnf revival iz gonna b woke n theyre gonna b tranzgender n named penelope and fern okay . iconic tweet)

* it alwayz bugged me a bit that while phinz outfit haz orange , pale yellow AND blue , jeetz outfit iz all just bluez , so he doeznt hav that much Variety w colorz , but in som alt outfitz he doez wear green so woe . green upon ye . slightly more varied color palette 4 anjali , also her lil overall dress iz inspired by 1 i own irl :) skirt go spinny

* penny doeznt look that different (i already draw her w longer hair half the time anyway lololol) but she iz wearing shortz instead of the skirt i uzually draw phin in , cuz i thought thatd b a funny silly detail , also darker colorz on her shirt (red instead of orange , orange instead of yellow) , and fingerless glovez bc erm theyre cool (shez kind of serving butch realness a little bit)

* considered giving anjali glassez but it looked a bit 2 Different , i wanted them 2 still look like phinjeet while also having more of a twist than just Eyelashes And Longer Hair the way most genderbendz ive seen in my day r (HASHTAG NUMBER 1 HATER OF GENDERBENDZ) and um IDK IT WAZ A FUN LIL DEZIGN EXERCIZE . I HOPE U LIEK THEM🫶🫶🫶🫶🫶🫶

[prezs]

finished some actual drawings of my fem shep! her name is anjali shepard. she was a colony kid and a war hero - a shame she's a bit of a closed off "i owe my life to the alliance so work always comes first" paragon.

didn't take to dying and being resurrected too well and has a bit of a decline into the renegade side of things before loosening up and Getting Better in me3

[remidyal]

So I'm going to start speculating a little about future D20 seasons, just because we're running out of JY and thinking about that makes me sad.

My guess is that we're getting another four side quests, plus the replays of the Time Quangle live shows, before whenever the next IH season is (probably jan or feb 2025). From Dropout's production schedule, most likely at least two, probably three, and maybe all four are either already filmed or filming presently. The strikes may have disrupted this somewhat, however.

We know the names of two from the 5th anniversary video; we also know from the JY FAQ for a fact that one of these two, called "Never Stop Blowing Up" is next.

In the last few years this has been the slot for a campaign not GMed by Brennan or Aabria; I'm going to actually guess that there's a decent chance Brennan also won't be a player though I'm not at all sure of the timing with paternity leave and all. What the season is from that title could be a lot of things, though social media stars or stuntpeople have been guesses I've enjoyed. I think this is going to be a new setting, rather than something set in a preexisting universe, but I could be wrong there and there's been speculation that it might be something Starstruck (in which case I WOULD expect Brennan at the table).

GM possibilities for this or any other season even just from among people who have played on D20 before are too widespread to even do a complete list; highlights who have played on but haven't GMed for D20 and who I understand have experience (and would be excited to see) include but certainly aren't limited to Jasper, Ify, and Anjali from various side quests. Among the IH, Siobhan has made it fairly clear that she's not interested in GMing. I don't know if Ally has experience or not but they would obviously run something wild and I'd be here for it. Lou I believe has DMed home games but not actual plays; I'm uncertain if he'd be interested in running for a show, but I'd certainly watch if he did. Emily and especially Murph have a ton of experience as well but I think NADDPOD is kind of too much for Murph at least to GM outside that. Zac is low-key the IH I think is the most likely to end up GMing a season; rotating heroes is a thing, of course, but I don't think the workload there is as high as NADDPOD's.

We also know a Dungeons and Drag Queens 2 is coming at some point. The most likely format for this is a straightforward sequel with Brennan GMing for either the same four players or four different Queens, but I would actually love to see one of the players from the prior run step into the GM seat if any of them have gotten deeply into the hobby in the meantime. If they swap Brennan out for another DM here, this would maybe be the one season where I'd be delighted for it to be Murph, simply for the makeup possibilities. (One possibility is simply that he wears Cody Walsh cosplay for the season.)

I also think (or maybe I'm just trying to speak into existence) that we will get another 10-episode Aabria-GMed season this year, probably as the lead-in right before the next IH season for the third time running. Burrow's End and ACoFaF are both out of this world, stellar seasons to me (MiMa is... complicated by how much I want the property it's mocking to fade from memory, but that isn't its fault or hers) and I want to see what she does next.

Last, probably between D&DQ2 and that 10-episode season if that happens, we'll probably have another 4-6 episode original. If Brennan DMs D&DQ2 and Never Stop Blowing Up, this will probably be someone else; otherwise, not much to go off of.

It's possible that the live shows end up filling in one of these slots and are treated as a season until themselves, but I think they're going to be released not all in a row but rather to fill weeks between seasons. This might just be a greedy hope on my part, though! I do hope Brennan sits out at least one season, and I'd love it if the person who GMs who isn't Aabria or Brennan is someone who's done less prominent projects. (I'm actually talking myself into really rooting for a Zac-GMed season, though Ify's been my main hope for a long while.)

One thing that does seem to have shifted lately, specifically in Dropout's marketing - in the past, they were always extremely secretive about seasons past the currently airing one until it was complete, with the names not even known until the release of the season trailers. This changed a little when they teased Matt Mercer gming a season (which turned out to be RavWar) during Never After's airing; it's changed much more in the last two seasons, with a teaser for Junior Year coming out before Burrow's End had even started airing and with the names of multiple seasons being given in advance. It wouldn't surprise me if we continue getting little seeds for future seasons as we move forward.

[hand-written-dreams]

CRIMSON SHADE

Chapter 16

Beneath The Surface

If I told you what I was

Would you turn your back on me?

And if I seem dangerous

Would you be scared?

- ( The song of this chapter is 'Monster' by Imagine Dragons)

18 years ago

Arnav was born in Chicago. He spent the first twelve years of his life there, surrounded by relatively normal people, living a relatively normal life, before stepping foot in this country two years ago. The transition was a jarring experience. Adapting to the food, language, and traditions felt like stepping into a whole new world. On top of that, the gruelling physical training imposed on him made it all the more challenging.

He had grown up blissfully unaware of his father's ties to the mafia. He wished her mother prepared him well enough before thrusting him into this completely new world.

Blindsided and unprepared.

They lived in this sprawling multistory mansion owned by Mr.Rathore, the ultimate boss, aka the Godfather of this dangerous empire. While others had separate apartments within the estate, they all lived, ate, and trained together as one extended family. The mansion had a central open space where everyone gathered for meals, and another vast area was dedicated to training.

But Arnav’s experience was different. Unlike the boys his age who trained in the common area, he was sent to a secluded hall to train under Master Z. His full name was 'Malik al Zalam', but he preferred to call himself 'Z'. They said Master Z made lethal weapons out of human beings. He was the top trainer of the "League of Shadows." It's an assassin organization managed by the Chicago-based mafia group, "The Outfit." Arnav didn’t fully understand why he needed such extreme training from someone like Master Z, but he didn’t have a choice.

His diet was strictly monitored, and his workouts were mercilessly scheduled. For an entire week, he trained blindfolded, enduring relentless blows that left his body aching. Then another week went by slapping water. The only good part was Mr.Raizada secretly bringing him chocolate cake when Master Z and Mr.Rathore weren’t looking.

Why Mr.Raizada and Mr.Rathore insisted on preparing him this way was a mystery to him. One thing was clear, though--he wasn’t allowed to call his father “Dad” here.

If he said that didn't hurt him, it would be a lie. But he would never acknowledge that to anybody. His dad was his favourite person. He always wanted to be like him, dress like him, talk like him. For the first time in his life, he wasn’t so sure anymore.

Every day, he watched the light fade a little more from his mother’s eyes. She was still here--physically--but only as a fragile shell of the woman she used to be. Her every movement seemed mechanical, driven solely by her duty to him, Anjali, and the baby growing inside her.

It tore at him in ways he couldn’t describe. She was dying in this house, suffocating under the weight of everything she couldn’t say. He wished when his new sibling was born, some of that light would return to her eyes. But deep down, a small part of him feared it might already be too late.

It was his first off day in what felt like forever, and he had plans--simple ones. After all the chaos of the past few weeks, he just wanted to play online games with his online friends and go to bed early.

The recent drama surrounding a failed wedding was still fresh in everyone's minds, but he couldn’t care less. Aunt Vedika, Mr.Rathore's younger sister, was supposed to marry someone from the Jha family, but the groom had fled before the wedding. And out of despair, he guessed, Aunt Vedika hanged herself in her room.

Mr.Rathore’s fury over his sister’s death was volcanic. Rumours circulated that he had kidnapped the daughter of the Gupta family as retaliation. Arnav didn’t know how true the whispers were, nor did he care. That world of vendettas and punishment seemed endless, and he wanted no part of it.

So, when a knock came at his door, cutting into his rare evening of freedom, he groaned inwardly. Mr. Raizada, stepped in, cradling a tiny, sleeping human in his arms.

“Can you watch her for the evening?” Mr. Raizada asked casually, as though this was an everyday request.

Arnav frowned, his gaze flicking between Mr.Raizada and the little girl, not more than four or five. “Is that the Gupta girl everyone’s been talking about?”

“I need you to watch her for me...like a few hours,” Mr.Raizada said, deftly avoiding the question.

Of all the things Arnav wanted to do with his free evening, that ranked dead last. He wasn’t shy about expressing that. “Why can’t you leave her with Mom or Anjali?”

“They’re not home,” Mr.Raizada replied, ever patient. “They went to the hospital for your mother’s check-up.”

Arnav slumped back in his chair. “I’m not doing it.”

Mr.Raizada tilted his head, considering, then offered, “What about...I’ll buy you that bike you’ve been eyeing. How’s that for a deal?”

Arnav’s scowl deepened. “Mr.Rathore doesn’t want me to have that bike.”

“You know what? Fuck Mr.Rathore,” Mr.Raizada said with a wink, laying the little girl gently on the sofa beside Arnav’s computer desk before turning to leave.

"What's her name?" Arnav asked looking at the little girl in a pink dress. She was tiny, unusually tiny.

"Khushi." Mr.Raizada replied shutting the door behind him.

And just like that, Arnav’s evening plans were obliterated by the arrival of a tiny sleeping intruder.

The little girl looked like a delicate porcelain doll, her tiny face framed by a cascade of dark curls that framed her head like a halo. She looked very fragile with her rosy, chubby cheeks and a button-like nose. 

He noticed her shivering, the icy temperature of his room too harsh for someone so small. He sighed and grudgingly adjusted the thermostat before grabbing the throw blanket folded neatly at the edge of the sofa. His mother always insisted on keeping it there for aesthetics, a habit he found unnecessary--until now. Draping it gently over the girl, he realized how useful his mother's quirks could be in moments like these.

Satisfied that she was warm, he slipped on his headphones and lost himself in his game, the familiar world of strategy and fantasy pulling him in. Time passed unnoticed, his focus entirely on defeating opponents and levelling up.

When he finally glanced back at the sofa, he froze. The little girl was awake, her enormous eyes--disproportionately large for her tiny face--fixed on him. They reminded him of cartoon characters, wide and unblinking, filled with a mix of curiosity and drowsiness.

What if she started crying?

He had no idea what he would do if she burst into tears. But the girl didn’t cry. She simply sat there staring at him, her chubby little head tilted slightly, her confusion mirroring his own.

"Uh... hi?" he tried awkwardly, unsure if she could even understand him.

The girl blinked, her small hands clutching the edge of the throw blanket. She yawned, her expression still half-asleep, and continued watching him as if he were the most fascinating thing in the room. And then out of nowhere, she smiled.

A completely radiant smile.

A smile that turned her cartoonish eyes into twinkling half-moons.

It lit up her entire tiny face.

He felt his own lips twitch as well.

Another knock at his door and he exhaled a sigh of relief, hoping it was Mr.Raizada coming to take the girl off his hands. But it was Omprakash, one of Mr.Rathore's loyal staff.

“Arnav Baba, Vikrant Sir asked to take the girl to the basement,” Omprakash said flatly.

The basement!!

Nothing good ever happened in the basement. It wasn’t a place for a little girl like her, hell, it wasn’t a place for anyone, not even grown men.

Since moving here, he had spent most of his free time exploring the sprawling property that Mr.Rathore called home. His curiosity eventually led him to discover the basement’s grim purpose. It was a place of torture, where information was extracted, enemies were punished, and murders were carried out.

What did they plan for this little girl?

Were they going to hurt her as retaliation for Aunt Vedika's death?

Or worse, were they going to do something similar to what they’d done to Payal?

His heartbeat escalated.

She was so young for any of this.

And so defenceless.

And so so small.

Omprakash didn’t hesitate, scooping the girl into his arms and heading toward the basement. She clung to the throw blanket Arnav had wrapped her in, her tiny face peeking over Omprakash’s shoulder.

Arnav hesitated only for a moment before springing into action. He needed to know what they were planning. Discreetly, he followed Omprakash down the hall, his footsteps light and deliberate. And the whole way, the little girl kept looking at Arnav over Omprakash's shoulder.

With her huge cartoonish hazel eyes.

Present day

She still has those cartoonish eyes.

And he wants to see those eyes as the life drained out of them, those damning eyes that push him into hell.

Every fucking time.

Every fucking way.

He watches her from the shadows as her car moves past the gates of the Gupta mansion, just like he spent years watching her from afar. She is both a punishment and a compulsion. She is a living wound that festers in his soul, poisoning his every thought.

Hatred claws at his chest, sharp and unrelenting, but beneath it lies something darker, something he refuses to acknowledge. He hates her with a rage so consuming it burns through his veins like wildfire. His hatred has a pulse, a rhythm that quickens every time he sees her.

It infuriates him.

It fascinates him.

And one day, he will take what he owes, and maybe then he'll find some peace. Maybe then, his chest wouldn't feel so tight every fucking second of every single day. Every single day she lived, every single day he survived.

Every single fucking day.

He's been thinking about it for so long.

She is going to die at his hands.

The most beautiful death.

It will be a sight to behold.

The roar of the bike engine fills the night air as he races down the empty streets. The cold wind bites at his skin, but it does little to cool the fire of his thoughts. The images of her, are like ghosts riding alongside him.

Haunting and relentless.

Her eyes, her defiance, the way she looked at him with a mix of fear and something else he couldn't quite place. His grip tightens on the handlebars.

Her voice echoes in the distance of his mind, soft and light, as though it isn’t built on the ruins of his life. It mocks him and tempts him until he can’t look away. She shouldn’t have this...this liberty to torment him. She shouldn’t exist at all. And yet, his mind is a prison, every thought chained to her. He imagines her face when he isn’t trying to, her voice slipping into his ears unbidden. The curve of her lips, the way her hair falls against her cheek...it infuriates him how clearly he can picture it all.

And then there’s the way she moves, the way she smiles at people who don’t deserve it, at men who dare to stand too close. It sends a rush of fury through him, cold and bitter. She doesn’t see him watching, doesn’t know he lingers on the edges of her life, orchestrating and unravelling her world in equal measure.

Something darker, stranger and far more dangerous coils tightly around his hatred, suffocating and exhilarating. He despises himself as much as he despises her for letting his hatred be tainted, for letting his hatred cross a line. His hatred isn’t pure anymore. It’s stained with something way more sinister.

It’s an infection, a sickness, a madness that grows with every passing day. And yet, he cannot stop.

She is his punishment.

His fixation.

His downfall.

All his life, he thrives on control in every aspect. And he has achieved it. Every emotion, every instinct, is meticulously reined in...his anger, his hatred towards her, and the burning urge to track her down and end her life.

And she comes and wrecks it all.

He hates her more for it. But, he hates her most for the way he craves her...

She is unbearable to look at.. intolerable even, not granting the mercy of looking away. Everything about her exudes a perilous beauty, like a rose unapologetically flaunting its thorns. She's alluring in the way deadly things often are.

Her beauty is..dangerously toxic.

It's venomous.

It's alarming.

It's unsettling.

He remembers how she looked earlier this evening. Every part of him burned the fire so fiercely it almost felt like his skin was being seared by her presence alone. His body stirred without his permission, a brutal, bone-meting wave of desire crashing through him, leaving him weak, exposed. He gritted his teeth fighting the rush, but it was futile, an insatiable hunger sank into his bones, making it impossible to think of anything else but her.

She was so close, yet a universe way. His hands twitched at his sides desperate to touch, to feel the softness of her skin beneath his fingers. Every inch of her called to him..her smile, her eyes, the curve of her neck, her bare back...

It's intoxicating.... lethally captivating.

It ripped through him, tearing apart his control, leaving nothing but an overwhelming need that clawed at his chest. His eyes raked over her, and the sight of her..so effortlessly enthralling, so unaware of the chaos she stirred....

He wanted to feel her beneath him, wanted to lose himself in the softness of her body, wanted to strip away every layer of resistance until there was nothing between them but skin, heat, and the sound of their breath.

His body reacted before his mind caught up, hard, aching, and wild with the need to claim her, to possess her completely. His fists clenched, nails digging into his palms as he forced himself to look away, but it was no use. She's seared into his mind, every part of her haunting him, wrapping him tighter in the need to break her apart and piece her back together in his image.

He turns his bike sharply, the screech of tyres breaking the silence of the empty streets. Her name echoes in his head, both a mantra he can’t silence and a curse.

He hates her for what she does to him. But more than that, he hates how he can't control himself around her...And it sickens him. He wants to destroy her, wants to ruin her for anyone else because if he can't have her, no one can.

There's no reason left. No logic. Only the raw, primal urge to have her, to mark her as his, to remind her that she belongs to his rage, his grief, his chaos.

He made plans, damnit.

Meticulous plans, to end the cycle.

To end her.

All his revenge would be served, and he wouldn’t even have to pull the trigger himself. He could simply sit back and enjoy the show.

It feels like fate is mocking him. The last 18 years of his life were spent believing who she was not. She is not who the world thinks she is.

Yet, still, she was the catalyst of the chaos that consumed his life. All the deaths he endured and caused, all the blood staining his hands.

He bought her life at the cost of countless others.

It shouldn't change anything for him after knowing who she is. He should have let his plan work as it is. He should have let the Wolves end her tonight.

But he is here again.

Back to square one.

Protecting her from the monsters again.

One that he unleashed upon the world.

And one that is raging within him.

The city lights blur into streaks of colour as his bike speeds through the empty streets. A creature of night.

When it comes to monsters, there's always one bigger and more vicious than the rest, like the one he’s about to hunt tonight.

Sex trafficking and the red-light district trade are colossal enterprises within the Triad, encompassing casinos, clubs, and high-society escort services hidden behind the facade of luxury resorts and hotels like The Crown and many more like that. All three families reap the rewards, their coffers overflowing from this grim business.

To avoid internal wars and eliminate competition, the Triad formed a separate syndicate solely for this venture. Profits are divided into four parts: one for each family and one for the employees. This syndicate, known as the Triad Tribe, operates independently, answering only to a specific captain, a leader chosen annually by the three bosses. It is an important position, overseeing a fortune that flows through the darkest veins of society.

That reminds him, he has a meeting with the Triad Tribe captain, Dhruv Rao, early tomorrow morning. He plans to approach the Tribe defensively. If Dhruv Rao gives him what he wants, he might grant the man a few months of reprieve...maybe.

The business of the Tribe has been bleeding losses for the family ever since their international shipment of trafficked women was intercepted by the CBI five years ago, due to an anonymous tip. Since then, the Triad Tribe has halted human trafficking operations overseas, focusing instead on managing red-light areas, brothels, casinos, and clubs.

However, controlling internal trafficking and sexual coercion has proven trickier. Over the last few years, brothels and clubs have faced frequent police raids--again, sparked by anonymous tips. While these raids rarely shut the businesses down permanently, they freed many girls held there against their will.

And through this very process, he has quietly built a network of spies within the Triad Tribe. The rehabilitation centre he's funded anonymously became a refuge for these rescued women. Some of them, determined to save others, agree to act as his informants. Pretending to be sex workers, they infiltrate the operations, gathering intel for him.

It is through one of these spies that he's learned about a Wolves member, currently indulging himself in a hotel room above one of the triad tribe clubs--a man working in the family’s security detail. Not the head himself, Adam Hunt, an ex-American Navy SEAL, but someone linked to him. The same man whose subordinates accosted Miss Gupta tonight.

According to his spy within the Wolves family, they still don’t know anything about the killing of Preetika Nair. If that were true, then why is this man in the city?

Dressed in all black, he moves like a Ghost. A mask covers his face from the nose down, and the hood of his leather hoodie is pulled low, shrouding his features. The darkness is his ally, and he knows how to disappear within it.

Tonight, he carries no firearms--only his crossbow. The absence of a gun doesn’t bother him. If anything, it adds a thrill to the hunt. Looks like he’ll have to get creative with this motherfucker.

Holding the upper edges of the window, he leaps onto the pipe running along the side of the building. His muscles, guided by memory, move efficiently as he begins to climb, one foot pressing against the window frame, the other braces on the pipe.

Stopping at the window five stories above, he peers inside and spots Vishal Hegre sprawled on the bed, grinning as two girls service him.

Moving with feline stealth, his parkour and martial arts training taking over, he swings to hang from one hand, the other securing a firm grip on the windowsill. Ensuring the room's occupants remain engrossed, he eases the window open and slips inside, landing silently before ducking behind a large couch in the dimly lit room.

"Damn window," Vishal mutters irritably. "Go close it."

One of the girls gets up, shuts the window, and returns to the bed.

Straightening, he strides to the foot of the bed and retrieves the crossbow behind his back. Before anyone can react, he fires, embedding an arrow squarely into Vishal Hegre's palm and nailing it to the headboard. A bloodcurdling scream rips through the room as Hegre thrashes, his wide, frantic eyes darting until they land on the figure in the shadows. Terror overtakes him.

Arnav raises a gloved finger to his lips, a silent command for the girls to stay quiet.

His gaze shifts to a wallet lying on the floor near the bed. Picking it up, he pulls out the bulging bills inside and tosses them onto the bed between the trembling women.

"Get dressed," his distorted voice commands through the modulator. "Mr. Hegre no longer requires your services."

The girls scramble to comply, heads down, avoiding the sight of the man writhing on the bed. Just as they’re about to leave, his voice echoes in the dark again.

"And what will you say when you go outside?"

"Nothing, sir," they whisper in unison, their voices shaking.

The door clicks shut behind them, locking the door automatically, leaving Hegre alone with him.

"What do you want?" Hegre stammers, still struggling to free his hand from the headboard.

"They all ask the same questions," Arnav remarks. "What do you want? Who are you?"

Ignoring the man’s pleading, he moves to the table, inspecting a bottle of whiskey. It’s a good brand. Opening it, he begins pouring the amber liquid around the edges of the bed, emptying the bottle methodically. Then he fetches another bottle from the cabinet and returns, tipping some onto the writhing Hegre, soaking him in the sharp scent of alcohol.

"Are you the one killing the Triad associates?" Hegre babbles, his voice breaking. "No--please! I'll give you anything! Anything you want!"

Ah, fear. Good old fear. His old friend. They reunite again.

He has been methodically dismantling the Triad, one member, one associate at a time--silently, ruthlessly. Each death was a calculated move, a slow bleed that weakened the organization from within. He moves like a ghost. Guess, his reputation precedes him. They feel the fear before they even know he’s there.

Hegre reeks of desperation and fear, the stench mingling with alcohol and urine. Disgust flickers across Arnav’s face. It isn’t just the smell, it’s the sound of his voice--grating, unbearable.

It disgusts him even more when he starts craving her voice, soft yet commanding, the one he can still hear in his mind.

Fucking hell.

Grabbing Hegre’s hair in a firm, gloved grip, he yanks hard, eliciting another cry of pain.

"Drink," he orders.

Gulping and trembling, Hegre opens his mouth obediently. Arnav tips the bottle, pouring its raw contents down the man’s throat. Hegre chokes and coughs, sputtering as the fiery liquid burns its way down. When the bottle is nearly empty, Arnav steps back, watching as a fleeting look of relief crosses Hegre’s face.

He lets him cling to it.

For now.

He drags a chair in front of him and sits down, quietly watching him.

People always underestimate the power of silence, the way it makes people squirm, their thoughts racing for an answer, a reason. He lets the silence take over, never speaking a word, knowing full well it will force their imagination to run wild.

Will he kill them? How? A bullet to the head? A quick, painless death, or something far slower, more drawn out? Would he make them beg? Suffer? Twist their limbs, pull their skin? Or perhaps strip them of something deeper, something that would never heal?

He doesn't need to ask them anything. He knows that the longer he sits there unwavering, the more their minds will unravel, and they'd begin to question their own fate. And when they crack, when they show the first sign of weakness, then he will strike.

Quietly.

Efficiently.

"I'll tell you everything just get this thing out of my hand," Hegre says again sweating like a dog. It's pathetic, the snot, the tears as he blubbers like a baby. "P..please."

"Why are the Wolves in this area?" Arnav asks as he watches Hegre squirm.

"Umm....to..to kill the Gupta girl."

"Why?"

"Because...Shyam Jha's minion killed Mr.Naik's daughter."

"Hmm..You're an interesting person, Mr. Hegre. Your men are dead, lying by the side of the road, and you're getting your cock sucked?"

"They said they'd got it under control," Hegre mutters, his voice cracking, a flicker of uncertainty crossing his face.

"Tsk, tsk, overconfidence is never good," Arnav clicks his tongue. "So you started the celebration early, huh? What will Mr. Hunt say about that?"

"I don't give a fuck what that American dog thinks," Hegde spits out. "I have worked for the wolves for so long...and when the head of security was to be determined, it went to that fucking bastard. I will show him I am better than him. I wanted to get the work done and surprise Mr. Naik."

"So...Mr.Hunt doesn't look know that you are here or what you were going to do?"

"No."

"Who else knows about the serpent involvement besides you?"

"No one."

"Your men?"

"Those who knew, I sent them to do that job."

A Police siren wails in the distance heightening Hegre's panic. "Let me go, man! I can't get caught here. I have a reputation."

"Mr.Hegre, do you know how hard it is to keep the Wolves from finding out who killed Miss Naik?"

Hegre's eyes widen. "You have killed the right hand man of that American dog, haven't you?"

"He was too close to find out....but you amazed me, you slipped under my radar...how did you find out?"

"The bomb...that killed Miss Naik..I knew who can make this bomb. I worked with him before..he is one of the Serpent."

"And you didn't share this information with Mr.Hunt?"

"No....You...are the one they call 'The Ghost', right?" Hegde's eyes are telling Arnav that he knows his time is up, that he knows what they say on the street that nobody sees 'The Ghost' unless he is going to die. "Listen, let me go, I'll join forces with you. I have a family, two daughters. I can't be caught here. I would die of shame."

Arnav watches him squirm some more, his voice calm but cutting. "Let me end your misery then."

He flickes a lighter which he retrieved earlier that day, directly from the boss himself. A snake is engraved in it, the sign of The Serpents. He tosses it onto the bed. Flames erupt immediately, licking up the soaked sheets and spreading quickly. Hegre's screams grow louder as the fire consumes him. So does the Police siren.

He jumps back from the window to the narrow alley behind the club, leaving behind a symbol of the serpent in the scene.

A warning, A massage.

For the Serpent, because this lighter will soon find Mr.Gupta. And he will know 'the Ghost' is coming after the serpent next. He is closer than they think.

The mafia war between the Serpent and the Wolves needs to start, but he has to make sure the little bird remains untouched.

She’s off-limits. No one dares lay a finger on her. He will burn the entire city down and raze it to the ground before letting anything happen to her.

Only he has the right to kill her.

No one else.

The morning light pours through the glass surrounding his high-rise office. The city below remains a blur of waking motion, but up here, he is alone, staring at the picture of a girl he hasn’t seen in sixteen years. It’s not her real photograph, just an AI-enhanced image, aged from her childhood picture to reflect what she might look like now. He hopes, almost desperately, that it matches the real person.

His jaw clenches. So many years of searching, of following false leads, of tracking shadows...and now, here she is again, in front of him, just out of reach.

He has been actively searching since he returned to this country; not once did he think to look into the Triad tribe. He should have. He doesn’t know why he overlooked it. Since when did Mr. Rathore ever keep his promises?

"Sir, Mr.Rao is here."

"Send him in."

Dhruv Rao enters the room, his easy grin at odds with the aura he carries. Once a street fighter, now one of the Triad tribe's most trusted soldiers. He started as an underground fighter and fought his way up the ranks. At such a young age, he’s become the captain of the Triad tribe, mainly due to his tenacity and his ability to command the soldiers in the streets.

"Hello, boss, what's up?" Despite his reputation in the underground arena as a fearless fighter, he is quite chirpy.

Arnav motions for him to take a seat.

"Let’s get to business first, Mr.Rao." Arnav wastes no time. "I want a favour."

"Anything, Boss."

He slides the picture across the table. "I want you to arrange this girl for me," Arnav says, gritting his teeth. He’s been searching for her everywhere. He never imagined Mr. Rathore would hide her in a place like that. But the recognition in Dhruv's eyes tells him that he has seen her before.

Damn it.

"No can do, boss," Rao responds quickly, shaking his head. "That one’s exclusive for Mr.Rathore. No one’s allowed near her room except him."

Arnav’s jaw tightens, but he keeps his composure. "And, where it is?...Her room?"

Rao hesitates, "Boss, I am really sorry. I can't give you her location. It's not permissible. Mr.Rathore passed even strict orders to inform him if anybody does look for her.....she lives like a princess in there."

He could have approached Rao in the shadows and instilled the fear of God in him until he spilled everything. But Arnav has no intention of ruffling the feathers of the Godfather of the families, not yet. Let them bask in their false sense of security a little longer.

Arnav’s eyes narrow, his voice quiet. "Mr. Rao, let’s not make this unpleasant...let not expose youself to the bosses for the minor hiccups you have over the year...they might not take them lightly. They could even start questioning your loyalty."

"I don't understand." But Rao's eyes say he knows and understands clearly.

"Hmm... let me reprase it so that you’ll understand. Why do your reports show fewer girls when I know you’re bringing in double? Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten how to count......"

Rao gulps first, then shifts in his seat, his confidence wavering. Rao looks uneasy but doesn’t falter. "Mr.Raizada, when I was summoned, I knew I wouldn’t walk out alive. If I give you the information, I’m dead anyway. If I don’t, I die too. But man to man, I really hope you’ll give me a chance to fight for my life." He pauses, his voice dropping a little. "Next week, there’s a match. You win, I’ll tell you everything. I win, we forget this conversation ever happened. I’m a simple man, boss. I don’t want to get caught in the crossfire of these family matters."

Arnav studies him for a moment, then smirks. "A match, huh? Feeling pretty confident, Rao."

Rao straightens up, his smile returning. "They don’t call me Show Stopper for nothing."

Arnav lets the silence stretch for a moment, before he simply says, "Done."

As Dhruv Rao exits his office, Arnav dials a familiar number.

"I miss you too, bestie," comes through the line, after the first ring.

Mathur's annoyingly smug and sleepy tone made Arnav sigh. He summons every ounce of patience he can muster. At times, he isn’t sure if he wants to strangle the man or laugh at his absurdity. Somehow, though, the bastard is probably the only person on the planet who can get away with calling him bestie. Absolutely fucking ridiculous.

"Wake up, Asshole."

"Why, who died?" Mathur mumbles, the sound of a yawn escaping.

"You’re about to," Arnav snaps. "If you don’t show up in the office in the next 30 minutes."

"Okay Mr. Grumpy-pants, make it 45," Mathur replies lazily, then his tone turns serious. "How was the meeting?"

Arnav scoffs in the solitude of his office. The meeting hadn’t gone as he intended.

"Keep an eye on Dhruv Rao. Hack his phone. GPS, earphones, everything. I want to know where he goes, who he talks to."

Author’s Note:

Hello, everyone. I’m back and excited to share the chapter. I went to have some vitamin sea and it was a much needed escape from the hectic life.

Let me know how you are liking this dark version of ASR. Also I am open for suggestions. Leave a comment if there's any other way you want to see him.

Bye, bye.

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@arshifiesta @featheredclover @phuljari @chutkiandchotte @jalebi-weds-bluetooth @9artsdragon @chaiandtakkar @msbhagirathi

[guilty-pleasures21]

Chapter 6 - the meeting

Warnings: none.

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     “I am so glad you were able to join me today,” the Queen began, setting her teacup back down on the table. “I have been meaning to invite you all to the palace after Miss X’s striking introduction to the ton.” 

     She shot X an expectant smile, waiting to hear of her success in the marriage mart, and X felt her stomach twist with nerves. They had received a letter from the Queen yesterday requesting their presence at the palace for tea that afternoon: she’d heard of Pavitr’s visit and wanted to learn more about the situation in India. Anjali had jumped for joy at the invitation, but X and her mother had viewed it with a little more wariness. 

     “Yes, Your Majesty. I have had many an admirable gentleman call on me most everyday since then,” X revealed. She bowed her head in thanks and the Queen sat back with a smug smile.

     “Yes, I expected so. I do hope we shall be celebrating some happy news by the end of this Season.” She gave X a knowing look, then leaned forward suddenly, her expression morphing into one of delight. “But, tell me, child, I have heard many a rumour about one gentleman in particular who has been most generous with his affections for you.” 

     X’s stomach dropped as she deciphered the meaning behind the Queen’s words. “O-Oh! I-I …”

     “Your Majesty must be referring to our neighbour, Lord Miguel!” Anjali interjected, noticing the blush creeping up her sister’s cheeks. “The two of them have been close ever since they were children.”

     The Queen narrowed her eyes knowingly as she reached for her teacup again. “Well, that is always how it starts, isn’t it? A childhood friend you begin viewing in a new light once you are both grown?” 

     And again, she couldn’t stop herself from thinking about how much, exactly, her childhood friend had grown. The sharp lines of his muscles gently pressing against his shirt, the broad width of his chest that snapped into focus whenever he crossed his arms, the sheen of sweat that highlighted his tanned skin after he’d returned from a ride … She glanced around and realised that everyone’s attention had been fixed on her, waiting for her response. She snatched her teacup quickly and forced out an awkward chuckle as she tried to compose her thoughts. “You … You flatter me, Your Majesty. Miguel … Lord Miguel! That is … Has always been known for his … irresistible charm. Perhaps he was just looking for a new challenge this Season.”

     She avoided everyone’s gazes as she took a sip from her cup and her heart thudded desperately with the hope that they wouldn’t push the subject any further. She doubted the Queen would be so ecstatic at the prospect of their union if she knew the truth behind Miguel’s background; that his father - his stepfather - had left him nothing at all in his final will. However could she let her personally selected most eligible debutante of the Season marry a man with absolutely nothing to his name? But hopefully their ruse would be successful and that little boy she’d comforted in the stables so long ago would finally be able to cement his place in the world.

     The Queen fixed X with an unconvinced look. The girl was beautiful with a slightly clueless nature that only made her all the more endearing. It would have been a feat for any man to resist her charms. 

     “My dear Miss X,” she began, placing her teacup down on the table once again, “we women are made of a more … sturdier disposition than men. We may fall in love many times, because we know never to give our hearts completely to any man, but arrogant fools that they are, a man will give his heart entirely to the one with whom he falls in love. That is why a man’s first love is always his last. Anything in between does not matter as much to him.”

     X gulped as the Queen held her gaze, her stomach twisting and turning at Her Majesty’s implication that she was Miguel’s first love. But … But he’d always just seen her as an annoying little sister, right? Not someone … Not someone he would like to kiss. Whose lips he would like to know the taste of against his own. She raised her fingers to her lips and brushed them softly, losing herself in her thoughts, and the Queen turned to Lady Singh, satisfied. “Tell me, Lady Singh, how has your nephew been?” 

     Commissioner Stacy furrowed his brows as a knock sounded at his door. He looked up from his newspaper and squinted through his glasses to try to discern who it was. 

     “Is that them already? I didn’t expect them so early.” He checked his watch to confirm the time, then he removed his glasses and went over to the door. 

     Their roof had started leaking a few days ago, so Gwen’s father had called some labourers to fix the problem before it got any worse - he didn’t want to risk their roof collapsing on them in the middle of dinner. Gwen scarfed down the last few bites of her toast, wanting to finish it before her father returned with the group of young men: she knew he wouldn’t want her in the house whilst it was filled with working men. Perhaps she’d call on Anjali today, then. Ooh! Maybe her friend would have more news to share on X’s situation with Miguel! It was so exciting being so close to such a desirable young lady during her first Season! Gwen lifted her plate to place it in the sink, then she froze when her gaze fell on a very familiar young man. 

     Miles’s eyes widened when they landed on Gwen, but he pulled them away from her quickly, doing his best to ignore her. Shite! Hobie hadn’t said anything about the job being at her house! He slid his gaze over to his friend, his brows pulling together in a frown when their eyes met. Hobie shrugged him off, acting as if he didn’t know what he was talking about, but Miles didn’t miss the way the corner of his lips twitched with mischief. They started setting up their tools, laying down some sheeting on the floor to prevent it from getting damaged, and the Commissioner retreated to a corner of the room, keeping a discreet eye on them.

     “Relax, bruv,” Hobie whispered in Miles’s ear as he gave his shoulder a reassuring squeeze. “Nothing wrong with doing an honest day’s work! Just be sure to stay in the bird’s good books, eh?”

     Miles rolled his eyes as Hobie rolled up his sleeves and got to work. They worked quietly for about an hour or so, mixing the plaster and carefully applying it to the weak spots in the ceiling, but Miles could feel Gwen’s eyes trained on him the entire time. He took care to avoid any eye contact with her though, not wanting to give her any ideas on approaching him and - once again - attempting to befriend him. It just wouldn’t work: they came from two drastically different lifestyles, not just in terms of their class, but their culture and background as well. 

     “Papa,” Gwen began, going up to her father with her roundest, most innocent eyes, “it has been an hour. Do you think we should offer the men some tea?” 

     George smiled and ruffled his daughter’s hair. She was so much like her mother: kind, caring, considerate. It was a relief to see his beloved wife live on in their child like so. 

     “That sounds like a wonderful idea, sweetheart,” he agreed. “Hilda! Put the kettle on, will you?”

     George left to go find their housekeeper and Gwen seized the opportunity to try to catch Miles’s eye. He kept his head down, refusing to give in to her, but finally, Hobie nudged his arm and glared at him in warning. Miles swallowed down a sigh and turned to face Gwen. She gestured to the back of her house, then turned around and walked in the same direction, not even checking to see if he was following. Miles curled his fingers around the ladder, his insides tightening with nerves, but Hobie didn’t give up, shoving him in Gwen’s direction when he refused to follow. 

     “Go after her, mate!” he commanded. “You were lucky enough to get this chance - you’d better not lose it!” 

     Miles ground his teeth together, thinking back to the conversation he’d had with his uncle. 

     Aaron grinned when Hobie revealed the news of his nephew’s newfound friendship with the daughter of the Commissioner. He clapped Miles on the back, thrilled by the information. 

     ‘Good job, Miles!’ he’d congratulated him. ‘Glad to see you’ve finally embraced the movement!’

     Miles had shifted in position uncomfortably, his mind running through a list of all the ways he could murder Hobie once their meeting was over. He slid his gaze over to his friend, fixing him with a furious glare, but Hobie just shrugged, uninterested in his unease. 

     ‘This is the perfect opportunity for us to gain entry into the palace,’ Aaron continued, oblivious to his nephew’s discomfort. ‘Do you think your friend would be able to get you a job there?’

     His eyes were alight with excitement, his brain planning out their next strategy to get the Queen’s attention. 

     ‘Uh … I …’

     ‘Of course, Mr Davis!’ Hobie had answered on his behalf. Then he’d turned to Miles, a determined look on his face. ‘Anything for the charter, no surrender.’

     Miles had gulped nervously, completely aware that his friend really did mean it when he said ‘anything’. But he couldn’t turn his back on his family - especially not for some middle-class girl who would never know how it felt to suffer in the slums of London. ‘Anything for the charter, no surrender.’

     Miles set down his tools and reluctantly walked over to the back of the house. 

     “Miles!” Gwen exclaimed, the delighted look on her face causing his heart to flutter against his own will. “How- It is nice to see you again.” 

     She lowered her head, barely hiding her shy smile, but Miles didn’t notice anyway, too distracted by the lie he was about to tell her. “You as well, my la- Gwen.” 

     Her smile widened at his familiar address and she took a step closer to him. “I thought you meant to try for the carpenter’s apprenticeship, Miles? Whatever are you doing fixing ceilings?” 

     Miles cleared his throat and rolled his shoulders back, gathering his courage. Anything for the charter, no surrender. “Ceilings … are a part of it. Carpentry is not just about doors and flooring; one must take into account the design of an entire building.” 

     He paused, trying to find a way to steer the conversation towards what he was meant to be asking. “Take the palace, for example: it is so majestic and beautifully crafted, but all its opulence would mean nothing without a strong foundation.” 

     Gwen nodded her head thoughtfully, impressed once again by the passion with which he spoke of his interests. He was such a hardworking young man, so driven and so motivated. It was such a shame that he would never have access to the same opportunities a man born of her station would have had. But perhaps she might be able to do something to help him with that … 

     “I know some of the people who work in the palace!” she exclaimed suddenly, her brain lighting up with an idea. “Would you be interested in meeting some of the men responsible for its upkeep? I know it is not structure and design, exactly, but-”

     “Yes! That would-” Miles stopped himself, tampering down his eagerness so he wouldn’t arouse Gwen’s suspicions. “That sounds amazing. I would be ever so grateful if you would be able to grant me such an opportunity. It might not be an apprenticeship, exactly, but-”

     “Oh, no!” Gwen interjected quickly, the happiness bubbling up inside of her at the new thought she had had. “I am sure we can arrange an apprenticeship! I will speak with whomever I know and then we might meet again? At the park by the palace?” 

     Miles swallowed hard, unsure whether to feel terrified or relieved. “All right. Will a week’s time be enough?” 

     Gwen nodded eagerly in agreement and the two of them slipped back into her house.

     Lord Riley looked up from his letter when he saw a shadow by his door. His features broke into a smile when he saw that it was daughter and he quickly gestured for her to join him. “My dear! How was the opera?”

     Annabelle returned his welcoming smile and took a seat in the chair across from him. 

     “It was wonderful, Papa!” She paused to let him finish writing his letter, then continued when he looked up at her again in approval. “I managed to catch the attention of our target.”

     Her chest bubbled with happiness at her success and she pressed her lips together to suppress the smile that tugged on them. 

     “And? Did you manage to find out any useful information?” he father pressed, his tone gentle despite his words. 

     “Nothing that we do not already know, as of yet,” Annabelle admitted cooly, “but the man rather seems to enjoy speaking of himself. I am sure it will not be long before he lets some incriminating piece of evidence slip.”

     Lord Riley nodded slowly as he sealed his finished letter with a stamp. 

     “Be careful, my dear,” he advised her. “I know you have quite the talent for manipulating your target, but this is a man with connections in high places. And the Crown would rather risk the life of an unassuming young woman than start a war with the rest of Europe.” 

     He looked up and fixed her with a warning look, causing her stomach to tighten with nerves. It was her first official mission out in the field, so there were a lot of expectations on her shoulders. It didn’t matter that her parents had worked for the government for years or that they’d been preparing her to follow in their footsteps even before she’d been born, there was absolutely no way she could risk making a single mistake. 

     “Yes, Papa. I understand.” She was the only difference now between a peaceful Europe and war across the entire continent, after all, and she refused to let her people down.

Next chapter

[lyrakanefanatic]

OMGGGG GUYS GUESS WHAT I FOUND ON APPLE BOOKS!!

so i was looking at the grandest game because im gonna have to buy it online or else ill have to read it a month late (bc ill be on vacation) which i physically can’t do, when i saw the audio book option. it doesn’t give you a sample, but it DOES show you the voice actors for the audio book!!! 🤭🤭

so, i searched up all their names and found bits from other books they’ve done to put together in a video and show you guys!

i believe that zachary webber is rohan, christine lakin is lyra kane, and anjali kunapaneni is gigi grayson, but you guys can listen and see if you think otherwise! (it was hard with two girls, but anjali’s voice is overall higher and more bubbly than christine’s, so i assumed that christine was lyra and anjali was gigi)

i did have to get anjali’s voice from an interview, so don’t mind the audio. zachary’s first, christine is second, and anjali’s third!

THEY ALL SOUND SO GOOD IM CRYINGGGG 😭😭😭🫢🫢🫢🫢 (esp lyra LIKE DAMN SHE SOUNDS EXACTLY LIKE HOW I’D IMAGINE HER TO SOUND)

I CANNOT WAIT FOR THIS BOOK TO COME OUT. LIKE GENUINELY, I CANNOT. 🤭

[abbysimsfun]

Sims Crossing Over! Sims In Bloom's Anjali & Zacharius "Zach" Beard for @bloomingkyras

cw: mentions of abuse

Zacharius "Zach" Beard dreams of a life of adventure, inspired by the art created by his mother, Anjali. She travelled the world for years, soaking up culture and experiences to inspire her work, then settled down when she met Zach's father.

She doted on Zach and worked in her home studio, but when Zach's intense dad turned to abusing drugs, alcohol, and Anjali herself, she knew she and her son couldn't live like that. Telling no one where she was going, Anjali escaped with Zach and never looked back.

They spent some time living in a shelter in San Myshuno's Spice District while Anjali worked on her art and got back on her feet, securing her own clients and working with lawyers to gain full custody of her son. It wasn't easy, but Anjali's nothing if not determined - a quality she hopes will rub off on Zach.

Now, Anjali and Zach have left the shelter for a new life in one of @bloomingkyras' save files! Maybe Anjali and Rosé will bond over their situations as single moms, or maybe Zach is destined for adventures with Giselle (or any of her other sims!)

What we know for sure is they'll be safe, but perhaps not without the trauma of their memories. Here's hoping this new beginning is everything they deserve and more!

Housekeeping under the cut...

Zacharius "Zach" Beard (child) - Adventurous

Anjali Beard (adult) - Art Lover, Creative, Romantically Reserved

When I made Zach and Anjali I also made his father so Zach used their genetics, but the sim named Dave has been deleted because 🖕 him that's why! So feel free to make your own lore for Zach's father, if you want him anywhere near these two.

They come with one outfit in each category but please feel free to redress as desired! Only Anjali uses any cc, which can be replaced with preferred cc or removed outright as it's just her highlights.

Anjali's highlights: @oydis's Undine hair collection with overlays

Private download via Dropbox

[sittinginsunflowers]

okay, I’m going full red string over the last episode. mainly because if queen amangeaux (put some goddamn respect on her name) had a child with her husband, wouldn’t that have solved all her problems? Sure, it would make her a target but the bishop was already warning her to lay low at the festival, and at least this would’ve secured her place on the throne until her child came of age. Unless she knew she was pregnant and then she decided not to say anything in trying to follow the bishop’s advice? Or she didn’t know at the time and then everything popped off. But that makes the baby at least a year and 3/4 months (if we use human pregnancy as the timeline??) and the baby read more as a newborn to me? Also in the adventuring party when they discussed the bishop’s secret, Anjali pointed out that he could’ve been poisoning her or her husband with the tea leaves to stop her from producing an heir. which could be a red herring, or could mean that the baby belongs to someone other than her husband, hence why she’s hidden him away. which would make sense since the coloring is a little different. So either the baby isn’t hers biologically and is just in her care, she had an affair while her husband was still alive, the baby is the true heir, or she got pregnant in the two year time jump.

how the fuck am I losing my mind over a mango’s sex life how did I get here