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foreverisntenough · 1 month ago

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‘Act II’

Summary: Attraction is like a gravitational pull that is undefinable and unavoidable. Unbeknownst to you, Jude had been keeping an eye on you since he caught a glimpse on his best friend’s girlfriend’s Instagram but he’s been loving his single life. You always were independent and know how to swim on your own but maybe you have been just treading water. Could the tides change on a holiday in Greece when you finally meet? It might get a little rocky but maybe you could be his paradise.

Index

Warnings: This series is 18+ MDNI

Extra Warning! This chapter touches on Whitney's serious mental health struggles. It’s brief but dark so if that is at all potentially triggering to you please be advised and DNI. <3

Note: Thank you for reading! Please be sure to like, comment, or message me what you think of the series! ‘Act II’ is interconnected to the 'You’re Mine' and 'Ours' Series but can read it independently.

Chapter 17 - 'Release’ | ‘Act II’

word count - 10.8k

The next morning felt like a slow unraveling of time, every second stretching into a lazy, intimate eternity. You could feel the dull ache of your hangover pulsing behind your temples, but it was softened by the warmth of Jude’s body against yours, the weight of his arm draped protectively over your waist. His skin was warm, his chest rising and falling in a peaceful rhythm that you matched unconsciously. The sheets beneath you were a tangled mess, but you didn’t care. The scent of last night still lingered in the room—a mix of his cologne, your perfume, and something indescribably you, together. You blinked slowly, your eyes tracing the curve of his jaw, the way his eyelashes fluttered just slightly in his sleep. His lips, still swollen from your kisses the night before, were parted just enough to reveal the soft exhale of his breath. You smiled to yourself, feeling the pull of something deeper in your chest, something that made your heart feel both full and weightless at the same time. He was everything in this moment. Peaceful, beautiful, untouchable by the outside world. You felt safe here, cocooned in this space with him. Without thinking, your fingers drifted up, lightly tracing the outline of his face, memorizing every angle. The perfect slope of his nose, the sharp line of his cheekbone, the softness of his lips. It was like looking at a work of art, but one that you were lucky enough to hold, to touch. Jude squinted one eye open, catching you in the act. His lips curved into a sleepy smirk, the kind that always made your stomach flip.

“It’s impolite to stare,” he murmured, voice thick with sleep, but there was amusement laced in his words.

“I wasn’t staring,” you replied, your voice playful. “I was admiring.” You giggled softly, caught, but not embarrassed. He chuckled under his breath, his grip tightening around you as he pulled you closer into his chest, burying his face into your hair. His warmth enveloped you, and for a moment, everything felt perfect. Just the two of you, wrapped in the aftermath of the night before, tangled up in each other. But even as his body relaxed against yours, you could feel a subtle shift in him. His arms held you tighter, almost protectively, and the lightness of the moment seemed to dim just slightly. His breathing was steady, but you could sense his mind wasn’t as quiet as it seemed. Jude’s thoughts were miles away, replaying moments from the night before. As much as he loved the way things had unfolded in bed—the passion, the connection, the way you melted into him—his mind kept circling back to the bar at the party. To the man who had cornered you, who had dared to touch you in his absence. He hated how it made him feel—both protective and vulnerable at the same time. He had always been confident, but seeing someone else invade your space had hit something deep within him. He shifted slightly, his hand drifting down your back, fingers splayed over your bare skin as if grounding himself in the fact that you were here, with him, safe. But his mind wouldn’t stop spinning. He loved that you needed him, that you trusted him to take care of you. But a creeping worry nagged at him—what had you been like before he arrived? How often had you been in situations like that, with men who didn’t respect boundaries, who tried to blur lines? His jaw tightened at the thought. He knew you were independent, that you could handle yourself. But the idea of anyone else putting you in a position where you felt vulnerable, where you were uncomfortable, made his stomach twist with unease. He didn’t want to be controlling—he wasn’t controlling—but the protective instinct in him was stronger than anything else. You noticed the slight tension in his body, the way his hand gripped you a little more firmly, and you glanced up at him. His eyes were closed again, but there was something there, behind his serene expression, something he wasn’t saying. “Jude,” you whispered softly, tracing your finger over his chest, “are you okay?” He opened his eyes, blinking down at you, his lips parting as if to speak, but then closing again.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Just thinking.” He didn’t want to worry you, didn’t want to burden you with the thoughts swirling in his mind. Instead, he forced a smile, brushing his thumb over your cheek.

“About what?” You raised a brow, not entirely convinced but trying not to press. His eyes softened as he looked at you, and for a moment, he almost told you everything. Almost let the flood of emotions spill out. But instead, he kissed your forehead, holding you a little tighter.

“Just about how lucky I am,” he murmured, his voice quieter now. “To have you here with me.” You smiled, your heart swelling at his words, but there was still a hint of worry behind your gaze. You could tell something was on his mind, something he wasn’t ready to share just yet. But for now, you let it be. You stayed curled up against him, letting the morning stretch out in quiet intimacy, the world outside your little bubble fading away .And as the silence lingered, the only thing that mattered was the feeling of his heart beating beneath your hand, steady and sure, just like him but then Jude’s uncertainty came to a head.

“Angel… Can I ask you something?”Jude cooed gently, almost hesitantly. You hummed agreeing to let him. “Why did you use to go out so much before?” he asked again, more softly this time, his thumb grazing the back of your hand as if to encourage you to open up. Jude’s question hung in the air, and you couldn’t help but feel the weight of it. The warmth of his body against yours was a stark contrast to the coolness of the question, but it did little to calm the nerves building inside you. You shifted slightly in his embrace, trying to think of how to answer, but everything felt so complicated, so much harder to explain than it seemed.

“Why did you?” you threw back, hoping to deflect, but Jude didn’t smile. You tried to play it off at first, giggling lightly. His face remained serious, though not in a way that made you feel uncomfortable—more like he was trying to understand something about you, something he didn’t yet know. He let out a long sigh, his eyes flicking away from yours for a moment, like he was sifting through memories.

“I guess I thought it was what I was supposed to do. You know… with everything, being a footballer, it just felt like part of it. Being out, being seen. I had the ability to.” His words felt real, like a confession, but they were laced with a casualness that didn’t quite touch the weight of what you were about to share. You swallowed, suddenly feeling shy, your fingers playing with the hem of the blanket.

“I… I don’t know if you’d want my real answer,” you murmured, looking away from him, your voice catching a little in your throat. You didn’t want to say it out loud, didn’t want to expose that part of yourself, the version of you that had been so lost before Jude. Jude’s hand gently cupped your chin, guiding your face back toward him.

“I do. I really do,” he whispered. His eyes were soft, searching yours with such tenderness it nearly broke you. You let out a shaky breath, your words stumbling as you tried to explain.

“Wel, I guess similarly I had the ability to. I had the access and I think... I did it to feel something. I just wanted emotional freedom. But it wasn’t just that.” You took a deep breath reflecting momentarily. “It was like... I wanted to feel in control of something in my life. Everything and I mean everything has been set for me even down to the way I was supposed to feel. I know I was privileged but I had… I had no freedom to do anything but what they told me to do and say and… feel. Everything else felt so out of reach, but when I was out—when I was drinking or dancing or being with people—I could control how I felt. I got to decide. Or, at least, I thought I could.” You sighed. The vulnerability of what you just said hung in the air between you two, and you couldn’t meet his eyes. Your heart thudded heavily in your chest, bracing for his response. Jude stayed quiet for a long moment, his hand resting on your waist. The pressure of his touch wasn’t intense, just enough to let you know he was there, listening, absorbing every word. His thumb rubbed gentle circles on your skin, a motion that soothed you, even though you still felt exposed. Finally, he hummed softly, like he was processing everything you’d said. “Does that bother you?” you asked quietly, a touch of fear slipping into your voice.Jude shook his head slowly, his hand moving to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, his touch gentle and deliberate.

“No, angel. It doesn’t bother me,” he said, his voice low and steady. “I get it. I do. It’s just… it’s different now because you’re mine. It makes me a bit nervous to imagine it all.” He paused, his words sinking in as he continued. “I just want to be the one looking out for you. Making sure you’re okay. That’s all.” There was so much love in his voice, so much sincerity, and yet, a tiny spark of something else flickered inside you. Annoyance, maybe even frustration. Jude’s past hadn’t exactly been squeaky clean either. Actually far from it and while he was trying to be protective, part of you felt like there was a double standard.

“It’s just... you went out a lot too, you know?” you said, your voice quieter than before. “You’ve had your wild nights. I know that.” You tried to swallow it down, but the feeling nagged at you. Jude sighed, rubbing a hand over his face before letting it fall back to your side.

“I know, I know,” he admitted. “I mean I wasn’t perfect either. But now, it just feels different. Now that I love you—now that you’re mine—I can’t stand the thought of anything happening to you. I don’t want you to feel like you need to do that anymore.” You leaned into him, resting your head against his chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat feeling a bit defeated by his comment. He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you closer. “I just want you to be safe, that’s all,” he murmured, his lips brushing the top of your head. You nodded, but the tension was still there, lingering just beneath the surface. It wasn’t that you didn’t understand where he was coming from, but the past was complicated. You had done what you had to, lived how you felt you needed to. It didn’t change how you felt about him now, but it was hard not to feel a little defensive. Still, you stayed in his arms, letting the warmth of his embrace soothe the unease in your chest. As much as it frustrated you, you also knew that Jude just wanted to take care of you. You were his angel, his glass angel, and he was terrified of anything breaking you. The tension in the room was still palpable though, despite the soft light of the morning filtering through the curtains. You lay there, your head still throbbing from the night before, your body half-draped onto Jude. You annoyance in the silence began to grew the longer it continued. The conversation had taken a sharp turn, and the last thing you wanted was to revisit it now. But Jude was insistent. The weight of the argument settled over you both, heavier than the hangover that gripped your body. He was being hypocritical, and you both knew it. Jude’s wild past was no secret. He had a reputation before you, and the irony of his discomfort now, as your boyfriend, was glaring. The frustration bubbled up inside you, sharp and sudden, as he told you he didn’t like the idea of other men being part of your past. It was as if, now that he loved you, your history wasn’t just yours—it was something that unsettled him, something he wished he could rewrite. When he told you, in that controlled tone of his, that you didn’t need to act that way for control in your life, it felt like a slap.

“I didn’t need to do anything, Jude. It was a release.” Your response was slow but sharp. You could see it in his face—he hated that. Hated that you had any other outlet before him. You weren’t sure if it was possessiveness or just his own discomfort with the idea that you had a life before him, a past that wasn’t his to control.

“Angel… I just don’t like...” And when he started to say more, you cut him off, words spilling out before you could stop them.

“Jude…” Your heart sank a little, not because you didn’t understand where he was coming from, but because you could already feel the weight of the conversation pressing down on you both.

“I know,” he interrupted you now, sitting up slightly, his back against the headboard. He pulled you with him, settling you in his lap so you were facing him now. His hands rested on your hips, holding you in place as he looked at you, the frustration evident in his eyes. “I know it’s hypocritical. I’ve been with other people before you…” He said it and you winced at the reminder. He took a deep breath feeling your body shift. “I don’t get to sit here and judge you. But…”

“But you don’t like it,” you finished for him, your tone a little sharper than you intended. “You don’t like…” You tried to keep talking but couldn’t get your next word out. He looked away for a moment, his jaw tightening as he tried to find the right words.

“It’s not that,” he muttered. “It’s not about your past. I just… I don’t like thinking about you having to deal with other men. The way he was all over you last night… it makes me feel— Angel, I don’t like…” He then paused. You two were tired and clearly terribly out of sync this morning.

“What— so you don’t like me?” You snapped. It wasn’t a question, not really. It was a challenge, an accusation, something loaded with all the weight of the conversation that had spiraled out of control. Jude’s face was unamused, and the silence between you both stretched long, punctuated only by the dull pounding in your head. You closed your eyes, trying to will away the argument, the headache, the ache in your chest. This morning was starting to feel like a pendulum and it was doing your head in. You moved off his lap to try to lay back down “I don’t want to talk about this anymore,” you muttered, the exhaustion and hangover catching up to you. But Jude wasn’t ready to let it go. He sat up further shifting beneath you, his movement forcing you to adjust. You stayed where you were, awkwardly slipping to lie on his stomach, your body suddenly feeling too heavy, too cumbersome. You could sense his frustration, his own internal struggle with what he wanted to say versus what he knew he should say. The air was thick with unspoken words, with everything he couldn’t articulate but felt deeply. And then, without warning, his hand smoothed over your hair, a gentle gesture that contrasted with the tension in the room. He ran his fingers through your strands before slipping his hands under your arms, lifting you as if you weighed nothing.

“Come here, please,” he said, his voice softer now, less commanding. He picked you up underneath your arms. He pulled you, cradling you against his chest, and kissed your forehead. The simple, tender act made your heart twist, even though the argument still hung heavy between you. Jude sighed, the sound heavy with frustration but also a sort of resignation. He held you tightly, his forehead resting against yours, and for a moment, the world felt smaller, quieter. “I know I’m being hypocritical,” he said softly, almost to himself, but loud enough for you to hear. There was a vulnerability in his voice that you weren’t used to, something that softened the edges of his frustration. You didn’t say anything, just raised a brow in question. His gaze dropped for a moment, and then he corrected himself, his words a little more measured this time. “I’m not trying to judge you. I love you because of who you are, angel. I love you so so much. You have no idea how much. But that doesn’t mean I have to like everything. I just—” He paused, struggling to find the right words, trying to avoid another misstep. His hand stroked your hair again, a grounding gesture, as if it was as much for him as it was for you. “I just can’t ever be okay with the idea of another man with you, I can’t be.” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. “I know It might be irrational, but I can’t help it. And you’ll never convince me that it’s okay. You’re not for anyone else. Not like this. Not how you are with me.” You could almost hear the lump in his throat. You felt his chest rise and fall beneath you, his words hanging in the air. There was no easy answer, no quick fix to the discomfort that had been dredged up. You knew this wasn’t about logic or fairness—it was about feelings, raw and messy, the kind that couldn’t be reasoned away. You stayed silent, not because you agreed or disagreed, but because there was nothing left to say. You understood where he was coming from, even if it frustrated you, even if it made you want to cry, even if it made you maybe, in a way, fall more in love with him, maybe that was just all okay. Jude kissed your forehead again, lingering this time, as if trying to reassure both of you. The moment wasn’t resolved, not completely, but for now, the tenderness between you both was enough to push the tension aside. You let yourself relax into him, feeling the steady beat of his heart under your hand. In the quiet, you both held on, knowing that love wasn’t always neat or easy, but it was still worth fighting for. In the quiet of the morning, you both stayed there, tangled together, not needing to say anything more for the moment. You’d figure it out, just like you always did. But for now, you rested in the safety of his arms, your world a little bit smaller, a little bit quieter.

Those reckless nights that Jude worried so much about had blurred together like neon lights through the backseat of a cab—each city a new playground where the rules bent to your will. In Paris, it was champagne-soaked evenings, stumbling through gilded doors of exclusive clubs with men whose names you’d forget by morning. London brought afterparties that stretched past dawn, in penthouses overlooking a city you never quite saw clearly, a haze of smoke and bass thrumming through your veins like lifeblood. New York had you draped over velvet ropes, your name at the top of every list, no price too steep, no bottle too extravagant as the night unfolded in a rhythm you could control. Money was never a concern—astronomical bills for VIP tables stacked high with magnums of Dom Pérignon, each receipt a quiet testament to nights you could barely remember, but that everyone else would talk about. There were yacht parties under Mediterranean skies with royals, laughter echoing over the water as you sipped expensive cocktails and listened to whispered secrets of lines in bathrooms you had no intention of keeping. The Grand Prix’s were whirlwinds of celebrities and luxury, where your dress shimmered under camera flashes, but it didn’t matter who was watching because you were the one writing the narrative. You called it fun, called it glamorous, and in moments, it was. It was the kind of sexy that dripped like honey off your lips as you laughed, knowing everyone wanted to be in your orbit, but the truth was, it was all smoke and mirrors. You could control the nights—the drinks, the men, the parties—but they couldn’t touch the fragile core of who you really were. That part of you stayed locked away, hidden beneath the surface, a delicate glass angel no one could break because you refused to let them see her. And so you lived recklessly, dancing on the edge of something dangerous, but always pulling back before it got too real. You’d stay out till five in the morning to then go to your pilates class by seven. You floated through those nights untouched, safe in the illusion you’d built, keeping the world at arm’s length. It was a way to feel everything and nothing all at once, to forget just long enough to make it through. But deep down, even as you laughed and spun through the chaos, you knew you were only hiding—preserving the part of yourself too delicate to be exposed to the world you moved through so effortlessly. Now you wish they would all just slip into the abyss accept one of your wildest evenings… the one where you had met Jude.

You and Jude were curled up on the couch, legs intertwined under a shared blanket. The soft hum of the city far outside faded into the background as you reminisced, your head resting on Jude’s chest, his fingers absentmindedly running over your hair. You tilted your head up to look at him, eyes shining with a playful curiosity. You giggled softly, your mind drifting back to that night in Greece. The memory was warm and vivid, like the sun-kissed air from that trip. You shifted in Jude's arms, your laughter making him smile, his curious eyes asking what you were thinking about.

“Do you remember the night we met in Greece?” you asked, biting your lip, still amused by how it all began. Jude’s smile widened, a low chuckle rumbling from his chest.

“How could I forget? That might have the best dinner of my life,” he said, his eyes lighting up at the memory. He joined the dinner table at the small restaurant, said hello to Whitney and Trent, Marcel, and sat down far from you. You were flustered he even was there in the flesh. You knew the face well, crushed from afar and eventually knew him as your best friend's boyfriend’s friend and there he was playing it far too cool at the restaurant.

“I couldn’t believe you were there. I should’ve known. Whit didn’t say a word about you joining the trip,” you continued, your eyes meeting his as you recounted the story. Jude nodded, amused.

“Yeah, subtly is not a strong suit of hers but she managed that one,” he teased, his hand gently squeezing your side. “She’s sweet though. I’m a great surprise to be fair.” He smirked. You laughed, recalling how it all unfolded.

“I mean don’t be too cocky… You wouldn’t even say anything!” you teased, raising an eyebrow. “And don’t think I forgot about that awful attempt at a wink before Whit introduced us. I was ready to burst out laughing!” You joked. He giggled though now and then Jude groaned, shaking his head with a grin.

“Yeah, okay, that wink was terrible. I panicked!” he admitted, laughing at himself.

“It was cute though,” you reassured him, still smiling at the memory. “You didn’t introduce yourself, though which was rude. You just strolled in like you were some big deal.” You giggled. “Sat at the other end of the table trying to be cool.” You teased, raising an eyebrow sarcastically. You felt a warmth fill your chest recalling the dinner you met Jude for the first time at.

“Yeah, but you knew I was keeping an eye on you,” he countered, a smirk forming at the corner of his lips.

“I know,” you said, eyes sparkling with mischief. You giggled, nudging him with your elbow.

“I’d go as far as to say every man that saw you that night had eyes on you,” Jude added, his voice dropping, a mix of pride and possessiveness seeping into his words. Jude made it sound as if he had won a contest. To be fair… he did win you over.

“They always do,” you responded nonchalantly, a small smile tugging at your lips and a bit of a smugness.

“Yeah,” Jude murmured, leaning closer, his lips brushing the top of your head, “but you are for me, baby.” He cooed.

“I always have been,” you whispered back, feeling the warmth of his words wrap around your heart. He tilted your chin up to meet his gaze, his expression suddenly serious, though his eyes danced with amusement. “You knew that from the jump, though. Be honest—did you think you had me?”

“Hook, line, and sinker.” Jude told you with a serious confident expression.

“Shut the fuck up! You were stumbling over words. It took you a whole dinner, and Whit’s introduction for you to even talk to me!” You scoffed, playfully rolling your eyes.

“Nah, I’m just joking, angel,” he laughed, pulling you closer, “but I liked that about you. You weren’t easy. You let me think I got to pass go but then I didn’t get to collect 200. It was like the most confusing addiction. I needed to finish the game.” Jude mumbled out a metaphor about how you had him interested from the jump. You laughed, leaning your forehead against his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath your skin.

“Good,” you said, looking up at him, “I liked keeping you on your toes.”

“And I loved every second of it,” he whispered, his hand trailing down your back, settling around your waist. “Still do.”

“What was weird about that holiday though, it was like I could feel it all shift. It felt like the moon was pulling the tides differently—like something big was happening, even though we had just met. It’s strange. Like at the time, I wanted it to be maybe a fuck but… I guess the world had other plans.” You sighed with a smile. Jude nodded, his expression softening as he looked at you.

“I felt it too, angel. From that moment, I knew something was different and I knew I was trying to push it down but it did feel a little like we were meant to be in the same place, at the same time.” Jude cooed. You smiled, resting your head on his chest again, feeling the weight of those early moments between you. It was the start of something you hadn’t fully understood at the time, but now, looking back, it was clear how everything had been leading you to this.

“Guess we owe Whit a bit of thank you though. Love of my life, good sex and a holiday… what a girl.” You giggled. Jude held you tight to him but both of you went quiet for a minute. You both breathed a bit deeper the words ‘what a girl’ echoing in your head. Whitney was amazing. She was your best friend, she was a sister, a daughter, a mother, a fiance, an overall amazing person but there was one person who couldn’t see any of that… her. You’d met at uni and you’d never made a friend faster. She was everything you’d ever want and need in a best friend who then became like your sister. You were very different and very much so the same all at once.

Semi recently, Whitney and Trent had a fight… sort of. It wasn’t even really a fight as much as it was a miscommunication, a bubbling over of Whitney’s past coming to the surface, the stress of her baby, a wedding, the pressure’s of being in the spotlight as the fiance of a famous footballer. You had gone back to New York the other week after your trip to Paris with Jude when Marcel had called you. To be honest, you almost didn’t answer considering you were now dating Jude and you were nervous why he was calling but in retrospect you were beyond thankful you did answer. He asked if you had heard from Whitney. You hadn’t. You hadn’t even heard about her and Trent’s tiff yet let alone that she was back in the country. So you hurried the fastest you possibly could up to her apartment, the urgency in Marcel’s voice made you incredibly nervous. Your worst fear fueling your speed. And as you sat in the back of that Uber, your leg impatiently bouncing, you recalled one of those rare weekends back in uni that made Marcel’s call all the more worrisome.

It was a moment when the city slowed down just enough to escape, Whitney and you had gone to her parents’ beach house. The air there felt cleaner, lighter—a break from the rush of Manhattan life. But as quickly as it came, the weekend ended, and soon you were back in the city, back to reality, not knowing how heavy that reality would hit. A parasite of a boy Whitney had been seeing at the time, pre-Trent, had came over the night you returned. You opened the door, his cocky grin almost made you shut it in his face. He wasn’t good for her—he never had been—but Whitney was already in deep with him. He was handsome, and their chemistry was toxic in a way she couldn’t escape. He was a distraction, a bad habit Whitney couldn’t break. But then again, it wasn’t just him. It was everything—the cocktails of alcohol, expectations, her body dysmorphia, years and years of layered health issues and whatever else Whitney needed to numb herself to the world. And so the next morning, the silence in the apartment was eerie. Normally, you’d hear Whitney moving around, already planning the day ahead. But that day? Nothing. The pit in your stomach began to grow, but you tried to shake it off. She was probably just sleeping in, exhausted from the weekend. Still, something didn’t sit right. You walked down the hall to her room, the air thick with the staleness of last night’s decisions. Knocking softly, you called her name. No answer. Your pulse quickened. You pushed the door open. The sight that greeted you felt like a punch to the gut. There was Whitney, lying limply on her bed, a sickening mixture of vomit and bile coating the sheets. She was barely conscious, her skin pale, her breathing shallow. The drop in your stomach was immediate, a visceral, uncontrollable panic that tore through you.

“Whitney!” you screamed, rushing to her side. Your hands shook as you grabbed her, trying to shake her awake. Tears began streaming down your face, but she was barely responsive. “Whitney, wake up! Please!” You fumbled for your phone, tears blurring your vision as you scrolled to Winnie’s number, hitting call with trembling fingers. When Winnie picked up, the panic in your voice was undeniable. “Whitney’s—she’s—oh my God, she’s not waking up. She’s in her own—” you couldn’t finish the sentence. Winnie’s voice coming from the other side of the line but you couldn’t focus enough to make any of her words out as you sobbed, holding Whitney’s limp hand. Unfortunately, this wasn’t the first time someone had found Whitney like this. But it felt different this time. The weight of it, the helplessness. You couldn’t help but feel a mix of rage and heartbreak. Rage at Chase, rage at Whitney, but mostly, heartbreak for the situation you were all in. “She did it on purpose,” you whispered, the realization sinking in as you watched her chest rise and fall shallowly. It wasn’t about Chase, not really. It was never about him. This was Whitney’s way of coping, of controlling what little she could, even if it meant self-destruction. When the ambulance came, the room felt cold, sterile. They took her, again, and you were left there—helpless. It was a cycle. She’d be discharged soon enough, just like before, and everything would move on. Life would continue. But you stayed, frozen in that moment, feeling the weight of everything that had just happened.

And so as you unlocked the door to Whitney and Trent’s apartment in Manhattan and walked inside you were confused. The apartment was empty. It was quiet until you heard water moving in the bathroom. You found Whitney under the surface of the water of the tub, your figure blurred above the water beside it. You frenziedly reached into the full tub and yanked her out aggressively immediately wrapping her in your arms over the ledge. Her soaking wet naked body drenching your dry clothes.

“Y/N, what the fuck is going on!?!?!” You screamed, starting to uncontrollably cry. You shook her shoulders trying to get her to come to and answer you. You were absolutely terrified and rightfully so. “Okay, okay. Jesus!” You ran your hands over your face in panic and shock. “You’re gonna be fine. I’ll… erm… I’ll call T.” You rattled off trying to think what to do. You knew that her upset over things with Trent was what this was about. Not what Trent had done, but her response to her own being. You had rushed to her apartment without hesitation when Marcel called, finding her in a state that was all too familiar, but still just as devastating. She had relapsed, and it had shaken you to your core. After… it was a routine you didn’t want to know. You had gotten Whitney to sleep for a little. She hadn’t slept for days and so once you got her to you stepped to the other room for a moment to yourself. You reached for your phone, dialing Jude. He was the only person you wanted then and as unfortunate as the situation was… at least this time you had him.

And now, weeks later, Whitney was as fine as she could be. Safe back home with Trent. Her health couldn’t be fixed but managed. Something she’d continually work to upkeep, heal and improve and whilst you were beyond happy and relieved she was okay. Relieved she had Trent and her little girl, Teddy, to support her, love her, it weighed heavily on you. The worry sat like an elephant on your chest as you curled up on the couch, staring blankly ahead. You hadn’t seen Whitney since her lowest, after that terrifying night in New York and now Jude was the only one that could give you any sort of peace. When you had called him after the incident, his voice was warm, comforting, but you could sense the concern in it. He had been so supportive when you first told him what happened, offering whatever reassurance he could, but now, the weight of it was still pressed down on you.

"Do you think she's okay?" you asked, your voice small, laden with the fear that had been gnawing at you. “I’m so worried.” You murmured. You didn’t expect Jude to have the extensive context, the depth you understood Whitney’s situation with but he was empathetic and he loved Whitney. This hurt him too. Jude sighed softly, the room going quiet for a moment before he answered.

“I talked to Trent this morning,” he said, his voice steady, but you could hear the underlying tension. “He said she’s doing better. They’re taking it day by day.” Jude kissed your temple. You nodded, but it didn’t ease the knot in your stomach.

“That’s good. I know it’s good but...” Your words trailed off as you stared at the ceiling, feeling the helplessness wash over you again. “It’s just... it’s not enough, you know? She’s been through this before, I told you, and I—I don’t know what else to do.” You frowned.

“I know, angel,” he said gently. “I know it’s hard. But you’ve done everything you can. You got her home. You got her safe.” Jude hummed softly, his attempt at finding the right words hanging in the air. “Trent’s got her.” He cooed.

“But what if it happens again? What if... next time...” You sighed, wrapping your arms around your knees. Jude moved to hold you as you held yourself. Jude’s voice softened even further, the concern he felt for both you and Whitney clear.

“There won’t be a next time. And if things turn again we’ll deal with that if it comes. But you can’t carry all of this on your own, angel. Trent’s there. They’ll take care of her. Their family, doctors, she’s even got little Ted, it’s gonna be okay.” He sympathetically smiled. You bit your lip, feeling the tears prick at your eyes. You knew he was right it just hurt. God it hurt so bad.

“I know... but she’s my best friend, Jude. I just can’t shake this fear. I couldn’t do it without her. She can’t do that to me.” Jude sighed again, the sound a mix of empathy and frustration at the helplessness of the situation.

“You’re her best friend too. You’ve been there for her when she needed you most. You’ve already done so much. Just keep being there, like you always have been. She needs you.” His words were meant to soothe, but the tightness in your chest remained.

“Yeah... you’re right,” you whispered, though it didn’t feel like enough. The fear, the worry—it was still there, lingering. But you knew Jude was right. You had to trust that Whitney would get through this, and that you would be there for her, no matter what came next. You sat on the couch next to Jude, his arm resting along the back, fingers tracing gentle patterns over your shoulder. The soft hum of the city outside barely filtered through the thick curtains, but inside, the quiet between you was almost suffocating. Your thoughts swirled, your mind drifting back to Whitney, to her pain, and the weight of it pressed against your chest like a heavy stone. "Do you know why I like Whit?" you finally asked, your voice barely above a whisper. The words seemed to carry more than just curiosity, a sort of fatigue and sadness wrapped around them. Jude looked at you, his expression softening. He knew you well enough by now to sense when something was really on your mind, and this was one of those moments.

"I mean, I feel like..." he trailed off, half-smirking in his usual way, trying to lighten your mood with just a hint of teasing. Liking something about her seemed small when she was your best friend so Jude was just trying to be silly. But this wasn’t the moment for it. Not this time. You sighed deeply, your chest rising and falling as you searched for the right words.

"No, I mean... she just..." You paused, rubbing your fingers together in a nervous motion. "She’s the kind of person who, even if she doesn’t agree with you, she’ll still stand by you like she does. She’s got your back every time. Like, she’ll fight for you even when she doesn’t completely understand your side. She’s so loyal, so supportive, and... sometimes, I worry I’m not being the friend she needs." You sighed in reflection.

"What do you mean, angel? You’re always there for her. You’re an amazing friend." Jude’s brow furrowed as he shifted closer to you, his arm slipping around your waist, pulling you gently against him as he reassured you. You hesitated, staring ahead, feeling the lump form in your throat.

“It’s just... I don’t know. Remember that glass you’ve talked about… That wall I’ve always told you about? It’s like... emotionally, I keep it up with her because I feel like I have to. She’s so supportive even if she doesn’t get it and I don’t feel like I’m doing that for her because I have to be the strong one. She’s so fragile. She’s scared, Jude, and when she’s scared, I feel like I can’t let myself break. But I’m scared too.” Your voice cracked a little, and you felt your heart race with the admission. “I’m scared for her, and it makes me so sad... but I feel like I can’t let her see that.” Jude was quiet for a moment, absorbing what you’d said. He shifted, turning so that he was facing you more directly, his thumb brushing your arm in slow, comforting strokes.

"Angel..." His voice was tender, and the way he said your nickname made your chest tighten in a different way. "You’re allowed to be both. Strong for her and scared for yourself. It’s a really difficult thing to manage. To validate both experiences.” He cooed gently. You blinked, your eyes meeting his, not entirely sure what he was getting at. He continued, his voice steady and reassuring. "If you want to be strong for her, that’s okay. You can keep that strength for Whit. But you don’t have to hold it together all the time. You don’t have to pretend like you’re invincible." You looked at him, feeling the burn of tears you hadn’t realized were building. Jude’s gaze was soft but serious as he kept speaking. "Whit can handle it if you tell her how you really feel, but I get it if you don’t want to… if you want to protect her like that. But just know... you don’t have to do that with me. You can be soft with me. You can let it all out, let go. I’ll take care of you." His words were a balm you hadn’t realized you needed. The tears that had been welling up in your eyes finally spilled over, and you looked down, feeling both relieved and ashamed at the same time. You had always had to be this wall of steel for everything no one ever told you to… let go.

"I just... I feel like I’m supposed to be the strong one. But it’s so hard, Jude. It’s so hard." He pulled you closer, wrapping his arms around you completely, holding you like he could absorb all of your sadness. “I know, baby. I know it is. But you don’t have to carry it alone.” You buried your face into his chest, inhaling the familiar scent of him, feeling the comfort of his arms around you, and for the first time in weeks, you let yourself be small. You let yourself lean on someone else. Jude’s hand moved gently through your hair, his touch slow and deliberate, like he knew you needed the time to feel safe enough to crumble, even just a little.

"I’ve got you," he whispered into your hair. "Always. You don’t have to be strong with me. I’ve got enough for both of us." You nodded against him, your tears soaking into his shirt, but he didn’t care. He just held you tighter, letting you release everything you’d been bottling up for so long. The worry, the fear for Whitney, the exhaustion of trying to be everyone’s rock when you felt like you were sinking yourself. And in that moment, wrapped in his arms, you felt something shift. You felt lighter, like maybe—just maybe—you didn’t have to be the one holding everything together all the time. Maybe, with Jude, you could let yourself be fragile and know that he would be there to catch you when you fell.

You were calling Whitney a lot since you had made sure she had gotten back to England safely. You wanted to check in, see if she was okay, see how little Teddy was but you’d still make Jude check with Trent for the truth of the matter. As much as you loved to know Teddy was obsessing over strawberries at the minute and Whitney just went on an unreal spree at Selfridges…You needed Trent; Trent to tell Jude, because he’d probably sugar coat to you because he knew how much it hurt you to hear if Whitney was struggling to get out of bed, but you needed to know if she was still having a hard time. But it had seemed as if she was doing good. It was getting better. She and Trent were getting married in the summer and in a way this felt like a restart for her. For you though, it felt like you were reliving the same hurt. It was still weighing on you what had happened because it wasn’t the first time. You were in a funk you couldn’t shake.

You stood in the bathroom, leaning against the sink, lost in thought as you stared at your reflection. The sound of your phone still faintly lingered in the air from your last call with Whitney, and even though she said everything was fine—It was as if you were stuck in this loop, reliving the same pain, even though you knew she was healing. You ran your fingers through your hair, trying to move away the weight of the funk that had settled over you these last few days. It didn’t make sense—Whitney was moving forward, getting better, planning her wedding. This type of a fresh start for her. But for you, it still felt like the wounds were fresh, like you hadn’t healed at all from seeing her so broken, from seeing her from that very first time. Jude’s reflection appeared behind you in the mirror, his presence always grounding, always warm. You felt his arms snake around your waist, pulling you back into him as he kissed your neck softly. The weight of his touch, the comfort of his body against yours—it was like a reminder that you weren’t alone in this.

"Come spend the day with me," he murmured into your ear, his voice soft but hopeful.

"What? I don’t watch you run around in the grass enough?" You tilted your head back a little, a small smile creeping across your lips as you teased him. Jude rolled his eyes but smiled too, kissing the side of your neck again.

“Yeah, but this is different. I want you with me on the grass, not just watching.” He cooed. You giggled, the warmth of his embrace starting to melt away some of the heaviness that had been sitting on your chest.

"Alright," you said softly, leaning into him.

"Okay." Jude turned you around, so you were facing him now, his hands firm yet gentle on your waist. He searched your face for a moment, his smile playful but his eyes serious, like he knew something was off even if you weren’t saying it. “You alright, angel?” he asked, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. You nodded, forcing the smile to stay on your face, but he could see right through you.

"Yeah, just… I’ve been in my head about a lot lately." You sighed Jude’s hands moved up to cup your face, his thumbs brushing over your cheeks.

"You don’t have to be in your head alone, you know. You can talk to me." You sighed once more, leaning your forehead against his chest, breathing him in, his scent so familiar and comforting.

"I know. It’s just… Whitney’s feeling better, she’s good now. And I’m happy for her, I really am. But it still feels like I’m stuck in what happened. Like I’m the one who hasn’t moved on yet." Jude held you tighter, his chin resting on top of your head.

"You went through it too, though. Watching her like that, worrying about her. That’s heavy on you." He whispered. You nodded, eyes closing as you let yourself relax into him fully.

"I know. I just wish I could shake this feeling." You muttered. Jude kissed the top of your head, his hand rubbing slow circles on your back.

"You will. It’ll take time, but you’ll feel better, I promise. I’ll try my best to help you feel better." You stayed like that for a while, just holding onto him, letting his words sink in. Eventually, he pulled back just enough to look down at you, his grin back in place, playful and warm. "But first, I’m gonna get you out of this house. We’ll go out on the pitch, sweat a little, have some fun. You with me?" He smirked.

"Yeah. I’m with you." You smiled back, this time a little more genuinely. “Always.” Your heart skipped a beat at your promise. And as you left the bathroom with him, hand in hand, you felt a little lighter, like maybe today was the first step toward pulling yourself out of the funk. Because with Jude, it was hard to feel stuck for too long.

The sun was high in the Spanish sky, casting a golden glow over the field where Jude had been pushing himself through an intense workout. You sat on a mat nearby, your body going through a series of lazy stretches, though they were more for show than any actual intention of working out. You loved watching him in this setting-shirt off, muscles flexing and glistening with sweat as he moved, every sinew in his body working hard. His focus was on the workout, but you caught the way his eyes would drift back to you between sets, a spark of something more primal in them every time. You couldn't help but smirk, knowing exactly what you were doing. Your stretches were anything but innocent— arching your back, bending forward just enough to give him a view of your ass in your tight workout shorts, or pulling your arm across your chest to “stretch” or really just press your tits together in a way that was blatantly teasing. The sexual tension between you both hung in the air like a thick cloud, heating things up more than the sun ever could. After his final set, Jude jogged over to you, his breath heavy from exertion but still managing to look effortlessly attractive. His sweaty body collapsed next to you on the grass, half clumsy in a way that only made him more endearing, and half composed like he knew exactly what effect he had on you. Normally, anyone drenched in sweat might make you wrinkle your nose, but with Jude, you only leaned into him, craving the closeness. His arm draped over you, pulling you against his damp chest, and you couldn't help but smile as you nestled into him. He kissed your cheek, the simple affection making your heart flutter as your legs tangled with his.

"So, you finally loose enough to join me for a run?" he teased, his lips brushing your ear in a way that sent a shiver down your spine.

"Loose?" you echoed, turning your face toward him, your eyes gleaming mischievously. "No, baby. You of anyone know that I can be really tight." You grinned, the heat of the sun and the weight of his body against yours making you feel bold. His grin widened, smug and knowing, as he looked at you with that mix of playfulness and hunger that always made your stomach flip.

"I do know that. I know that well," he said, his voice low, almost a growl, as his hand slid over your waist, pulling you even closer. He nuzzled your neck before placing a soft, lingering kiss just beneath your jawline. You closed your eyes for a second, enjoying the feel of him against you, the weight of his arm, the teasing press of his lips. Everything about the moment was charged-the sun, the grass, the quiet intimacy in a place that was only yours.

"You sure you don't want to work up a little more of a sweat?" he murmured against your skin, his voice full of suggestion, his hand now resting on your thigh, fingers drawing small circles that made your breath hitch. You tilted your head back to meet his gaze, biting your lip before letting a slow, seductive smile spread across your face.

“I could be convinced," you purred, and in that moment, it didn't matter whether you were on the grass, in the sun, or anywhere else in the world-as long as you were with him. The cheeky sexy moment shifted though. It was almost like the comfort he gave you made you more sad, because he gave you a space you could be. Jude kept his arms wrapped securely around your waist, his cheek resting comfortably against you as you leaned forward in a pretend stretch, your fingers barely grazing your toes. He could feel the weight of your mood lingering in the air. You were trying to put on a brave face, but the tension in your body gave you away. Without a word, Jude gently pulled you back up from your extension, turning you so he could look at your face, his eyes searching yours with quiet concern.

“Hey,” he said softly, brushing a strand of hair away from your cheek. “You know you’ll see Whit soon, yeah? She’ll be at the England game, Supporting Trent. You’ll get to be with her then.” He explained and you paused, the words hanging in the air awkwardly as you fidgeted with the hem of your workout top.

"Well…" you began, your voice trailing off. A wave of guilt swept over you, making your throat tighten as you hesitated. Jude raised an eyebrow, waiting patiently for you to continue, but you could see the flicker of concern behind his calm demeanor. “I’ve been meaning to tell you,” you finally said, taking a deep breath, “I have to be at the gallery that week. There’s a big event I can’t miss. I won’t be able to make it to the match.” The words felt heavier as they left your mouth, and you could see the disappointment flash across his face, despite his best efforts to hide it. Jude's smile faltered slightly, the sadness clear in his eyes, but he nodded, trying to understand.

“Oh,” he said quietly, his voice softer now. “Erm.. wow. I just… I really wanted you there. It’s our first game together, y’know? As… us.” He couldn’t hide the hurt and he couldn’t hide from Louis’s words nagging him about how your lives truly could never sync. Not only were you missing Jude’s match, he was missing something important of yours. The guilt gnawed at you. You could feel the weight of his words settling deep in your chest, and without thinking, you moved to hug him, burying your face in his neck, as if hiding could make the moment less painful.

“I’m so sorry,” you mumbled into his skin, your voice muffled and small. The ache of letting him down hit harder than you expected, and you felt your heart clench. Jude held you close, his lips pressing softly against your hair as he sighed, his arms tightening around you.

“It’s okay, angel,” he whispered, but you could feel the sadness in his voice, the way he was trying to convince himself as much as you. “I get it. Your work’s just as important. You don’t have to apologize.” The silence that followed was different from before, sad and thick with the reality you’d both been pushing aside. You didn’t live in Madrid. You didn’t live in the same city, and even though everything felt like home when you were with Jude, your life, your work, was back in New York. The truth settled between you like an invisible wall, and for the first time in a while, the distance between you felt very, very real. Jude kept holding you, his hand running soothingly up and down your back as if trying to keep you both grounded in the moment. But neither of you could shake the unspoken understanding that lingered: no matter how much you wanted to be here, with him, there was always something pulling you away.

After you and Jude return home after the intense emotional and physical session under the scorching sun. Your bodies glistened with sweat, a mixture of exertion and the sultry climate. Jude had pushed himself to his limits, but you had called it quits earlier than that, claiming your muscles were too tight to even start with what he was doing, although it was more of an innuendo. Little did you know, this was just the beginning of even more intense cardio —one that would leave you breathless in a whole different way. As you entered the cool confines of Jude’s room, his eyes smoldered with desire. He wasted no time, his hands already reaching for the hem of your tight workout top. With slow, deliberate movements, he peeled the mildly damp fabric over your head, exposing your perfect tits. Your nipples, already hardened from the workout and Jude's hungry gaze, begging for attention.

"You know, angel," Jude whispers, his voice husky with want, "I think I need to stretch you out properly. Earlier, you said you were too tight, and I can't have that." His words sent a shiver down your spine, and you knew exactly what kind of stretching he had in mind.

"Oh, yeah? And how do you plan to do that?" You giggled playfully, a mix of anticipation and nervousness fluttering in your stomach. In response, Jude lifted you effortlessly, carrying you towards the ensuite bathroom. With each step, his grip on your bare waist sent sparks of excitement through your body. He kicked the bathroom door shut behind him, the sound echoing through the spacious room. Jude set you down on the marble bench, the cool surface contrasting with your heated skin. He quickly turned the shower on, steam beginning to fill the air and then stepped under the cascading water, his muscular body glistening in the steamy atmosphere.

"C’mere right now baby," he growled, his eyes dark with desire. You wasted no time, stepping into the shower, feeling the hot water caressing your skin. Jude's hands on you instantly, cupping your tits and teasing your sensitive nipples. He lowered his head, his tongue tracing circles around them, sending electric shock waves of pleasure through your body. You leaned back, bracing yourself against the wall as Jude's mouth traveled down your stomach, leaving a trail of kisses and nibbles in his wake. He reached your throbbing core, and without hesitation, he parted your folds with his tongue, delving deep into your wetness. You gasped, the hot water mixing with your moans as Jude ate you with unhurried, deliberate strokes. Your hands gripped the shower wall, fingers digging into the grout as you struggled to maintain your balance. Jude's skilled tongue worked its magic, flicking and circling your clit, driving you to the edge of ecstasy. You could feel your orgasm building, a tidal wave of pleasure ready to crash over you. Just as you were about to climax, Jude stopped, leaving you teetering on the precipice.

"Not yet, angel," he breathed, his voice heavy with lust. He lifted you as you wrapping your legs around his waist. Your back pressing against the cold tile wall, offering a delicious contrast to the heat between your bodies and the water. Jude dragged the tip of his throbbing hard cock through your folds before entering you in one swift motion, filling you completely. He rolled his hips into you and his cock pressed deeper into hitting a spot only he knew. When he found the perfect rhythm you could feel the knot in your stomach tightening. He sucked and nibbled onto your sensitive neck and you could feel your high rapidly approaching. He began to thrust, his movements rough and primal, driven by the desire that had been building since the moment back on the pitch. He had you pressed up against the cold shower tiles as the warm water cascaded down your naked bodies. Your head fell back, and you bite your lip to stifle the moans that threatened to escape. Jude's hands gripped your hips, leaving imprints on your skin as he slammed into you again and again. The sound of skin slapping against skin filling the shower, mingling with the hiss of the water.

"Fuck, you feel so good," Jude grunts, his breath hot against your neck. "I love when you're so tight for me." Your legs tightened around his waist more, your heel dragging down his muscular wet back, pulling him deeper into you. You couldn't hold back anymore. Jude could barely focus, you felt so good. You could barely speak from how good he felt. Your stomach tightened and your walls fluttered as you came, squirting a little.

“Fuck! Fuck! Jude, I’m cumming. Shit baby, you feel so good, oh my god.” With a cry of pleasure, you climaxed, your walls clenching around Jude's throbbing cock. Your head collapsed from the wall down onto his shoulder as he relentlessly continued to pound into you as you rode out your high.

"You take me so well, fuck, you're making such a mess, baby.” And you were. Jude hissed as his cock twitched in you feeling how messy you were. He swiftly followed you, his own release spilling deep within you as he filled you. “Be a good girl and take it for me. I’m cumming angel.” He moaned, pressing you further into the shower wall as your pussy clenched tighter around him. He emptied his load inside you as you both breathed heavily. Breathless and spent, Jude lowered you gently, your legs trembling as you slid down the wall. He set you on your feet and you clung to him as the warm water continued to fall. The shower steam encircled you as he rubbed his hands with soap over your body, beginning to actually shower now. You liked his hands on you like this, you liked him in the shower with you like this. There was a physical and emotional feeling of warmth with him. He just wanted to wrap around you and keep you with him all the time. He was completely consumed by the thought. You watched him stare blankly as if in a blissful haze completely sure that there couldn’t possibly be anything better than this right here.. You smiled at his face and traced your finger down his sharp jawline. You were both so in love. You got through the shower slowly and not without some suggestive touches but eventually Jude reached around you and turned the water off. The sudden silence emphasizing your heavy breathing. He didn’t move yet, he just held you close against his chest. The water continued dripping down your bodies. Droplets racing along your skin. You couldn’t be but you wanted to be closer somehow to him. You got out and the air conditioned chill was a sharp contrast but it didn’t last long because Jude readily wrapped you in a warm, fluffy towel, draping his arms over you as he stood behind you engulfing you in it. He stared at you two in the fogged mirror for a moment before whisking you out of the bathroom, his strong arms supporting you. He sat you down on the bed, your body still tingling from the intense encounter. With gentle hands, he dried your skin, his touch sending aftershocks of pleasure through your nerves. He knelt before you, taking each of your feet in his hands, massaging them with a soft, scented lotion. His fingers work their way up your legs, leaving a trail of moisture and warmth over your whole body.

"You're so beautiful," Jude murmurs, his eyes filled with adoration. "I love every fucking inch of you." He murmured as he leant forward, his lips brushing against yours, and you taste the lingering flavor of your desire on his tongue. His hands continue to glide over your body, moisturizing your skin and leaving you feeling pampered and cherished. "I love you, Y/N," Jude whispered, his voice hoarse with emotion. You smiled, your heart overflowing with love and desire.

"I love you too, Jude," you replied, pulling him close for a deep, passionate kiss. And so as the afternoon sun streamed through the bedroom, you and Jude lied entwined for a little while, your bodies still glistening with the remnants of passion, a fresh shower, and lotion.

🪩🫶❤️‍🔥🍹🌞🍒 Thank you for reading! Please like, comment, or message what you think of the chapter 🍒🌞🍹❤️‍🔥🫶🪩

Next part - Chapter 18 - Long Distance xx

#jude bellingham imagine #jude bellingham #jude bellingham fanfic #jude bellingham x reader #jude bellingham smut

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licensedproldier · 15 days ago

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highlights from the dropout anthony padilla/courtney miller interview! (aka things i liked or didnt know)

ally IMMEDIATELY kicking us off by introducing themselves as vic michaelis and dabbing so softly

ally ALSO IMMEDIATELY kicking us off by calmly answering the 'tell us about yourself' question with "ive been testing positive for covid for about 3 weeks now" "is that true?" "of COURSE NOT OH MY GOD??"

ally calls the covid vaccine the "Fauci-ouchie"

its been 1 minute into the video

VIC LYING ABOUT THEIR FAVORITE COLOR FOR NO REASON

its been TWO minutes into the video

ALLY HIJACKING HER ATTEMPT TO ASK AGAIN BY MOVING ONTO THE TRANSITION THEMSELF

ok we're locking in locking in

everyone needs to hear the ally wrongpile beardsley story at least once <3

vic was 100% in on sam's vision for dropout and ally COULD not have been more full of doubt.

all of them saying a contemplative 'ooooo' when asked if they miss sketches and then a beat afterwards vic immediately bursting out with 'sketch is dead i hate sketch. anyway-"

IFY MOO DENG MENTION

ify talking about how close and interconnected the cast is and was off screen since way back

"noo c'mon c'mon those are those pale clammy little hands i love so much 🥺" "theyre DRY AS A BONE"

vic's "I just dont ever think that anyone is thinking about me. like i am thinking about myself 100% more than anyone else is thinking about me"

vic thought it was crazy when they got asked to host VIP because she felt too new for it despite having a lot of experience

ally thinks its funny to make each other do the thing theyre known for but also they agree brennan is just that analytical about every topic and birds are not special KHADGKASJDF

vic and ify enthusiastically agreeing with the above LMAO

vic plays a character of herself while ify performs very close to his actual self

'is the broke comedian bit real' all of them immediately exaggeratedly laughing and looking away and going NOOO WE'RE FINEEE WE'RE FINEEE

ally's analogy of watering a plant that has been dead for a long time and how they might be doing good but the water has a lot of past cracks to fill in which i dont know enough about plants to tell if this is an accurate analogy but its an effective one

money-wise, the tide has turned for the better for them in the last few years 🥺

dropout did profit-share last year! vic cried 🥺

ify "i was there when youtube was created by a couple of guys" GOOGLE HOW OLD IS YOUTUBE. ONLY 19??????

ally needing clarification on if he was actually THERE when it was created or not

ify talking about how more people in the industry are recognizing him FROM dropout things

THE EDITORS ACTUALLY USING THE CLIP OF ALLY'S DAB AS A TRANSITION

vic "10 years ago if you told me i could actually make money from doing improv and my reaction was anything other than 'holy shit thats incredible' i would like murder myself. i would throw myself into a trash can"

immediate no's on "do you feel like you have to share your personal lives on camera" because they just like oversharing

"oh you grew up mormon too?" "no but i just LOVE 💞🥰 the mormons"

"studio CE shoutout. dont shout them out actually. well, you can if you want to."

some great takes on parasocial relationships

ify thinks his audience are the kinky poly folks. can we get a shout from the kinky poly folks!

ify pointing right at the camera and saying "IF you are at a sex party and i introduce myself as IFY do NOT give me your fake stage name. you are saying my REAL GOVERNMENT name here"

ally bringing up chappell roan in the parasocial relationships discussion yoooo

ify doing a voice imitation of his uncle suggesting he do jokes for a relative's graduation KHAGKAJKAKJDFSD

the horror on all their faces when courtney says they're lucky that fans dont ask them to do something funny in public when they meet them

grilled cheese scale: ify's are solid. ally is a good cook but they're allergic to bread, vic inconclusive

vic loves the joke of being called vehicular and would change their government name to it even LMAO

izzy roland shoutout!!!!!

ify's sex dungeon would also be where he paints warhammer minis.

"what is your favorite thing that he did" "...anthony?" "yeah" "th. this? this channel? this right here?"

SZA talked about ify on VIP in a variety article???

SZA INTENTIONALLY DRESSED UP LIKE IFY WAS ON VIP?????

this is like the first time i saw mxmtoon commented on zac's instagram except magnified by a hundred

"Grimes if you're watching this, slide into the DMs"

ally fanning themselves going "thats actually too hot i simply need to go" hearing that lana del rey graduated studying philosophy with an emphasis in metaphysics

everyone at this table ships ally beardsley and lana del rey

nice to know ify and em are still together!

"do you consider yourself an angel of death? i consider myself an angel of death for network television" vic talking about how theyve been on SO many second-to-last episodes of shows that were canceled 😭

Super fun and insightful!!!! we dont get to see these three vibe together much on screen 🥺 video under cut!

youtube

#dropout #dropout.tv #dropout tv #ify nwadiwe #vic michaelis #ally beardsley #anthony padilla #interview hightlights time again!!!#these guys are so fun they were having so much fun #Youtube

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keepmycandleburning · 1 month ago

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My favorite HP fanfics of all time:

#1: Beautiful Sleepyhead by Phantomato. Thoros Nott/Voldemort, 24k words, E. I also highly recommend reading Interlude in First and Oily Water from this series. This is the only fic I couldn't even guess how many times I've read it. It's so unspeakably beautiful, beyond words to me, the relationship these two characters have, the characterization of Voldemort and his professional and domestic lives, the strikingly beautifully written and raw erotica, the intense humanity of all of it. I recommend reading everything with Thoros/Voldemort. I'll read them anywhere and doing anything. In general I consider Phantomato the best writer I've ever read in my entire life, in any context and in any genre. The way they use words is not the way other people use words. Reading their writing changes the way I think. You make me need to write @phantomato I LOVE YOU

#2: Immortal Misconceptions by PinsandKneazles. Bellatrix/Voldemort, 3.4k, M. Bellatrix and Voldemort try to conceive Delphini. This is so so so so fucking funny. Genuinely one of the funniest things I've ever seen. I can't even look at this right now without scream laughing. Every line of this is laugh out loud worthy and it doesn't ever get any less funny even if you read it 20 times.

#3: The Warrior and the Snake by Lady_Escapist. Bellatrix/Voldemort, 150k, M. My favorite Bellamort fic (ignore the above...), and goes through the whole story of both wars which I adore. Lady_Escapist writes the best characterized Voldemort I've ever read, who speaks and acts and thinks like he does in canon, and he has an intensely complex relationship with Bellatrix that feels so incredibly believable, and so compelling. The chemistry between them is palpable. The type of story that impacts your view of the series when you read it.

#4: Dissonance by Metalomagnetic. Abraxas Malfoy/Tom Riddle, 17k, E, underage warning. Beautiful use of words, such evocative language, really feels like it's written in the real HP universe, and some of the most well-written sex I've ever read. It's really impressive to me how complex and individual and human these characters are in so few words. Metalomagnetic is another person who knows how to use words in a way most writers can't do. @metalomagnetic I LOVE YOU

#5: Scylla and Charybdis by Asenora. Snape/Voldemort, 44k, E. Transcendent experience of Snape and his relationship with Voldemort, woven together like a web interconnected through time. Delicious little Bellamort bits. Another brilliant writer who has a way with words I can barely fathom. Have never forgotten the description of Rodolphus's face as aquiline. @saintsenara I LOVE YOU

#6: Self-Worship by Phantomato. Diary Tom Riddle/real Tom Riddle, 21k, E. The diary horcrux gets a body, and there's only one bed... As brilliantly written as anything of theirs. So real, so visceral.

and:

Stop all the clocks by Metalomagnetic. Rodolphus/Voldemort, 9k, M. Rodolphus's POV of his intense adoration and devotion to Voldemort. Amazing writing of a Death Eater's love for the Dark Lord.

Penitence. Lucius/Voldemort, 810 words, E, non-con warning. Lucius has to suck Voldemort's dick in front of a ton of Death Eaters. So good.

Holiday by Phantomato. Thoros Nott/Voldemort, 23k, E. Fake engagement, you know what happens.

Other Women and of Purer Blood by Asenora. Narcissa/Snape, 7.7k, E. Super well-written, beautiful descriptions and narrative, so many compelling ideas, and an insane sex scene.

The Black Family Shield in Malfoy Manor by FelixPhial. Draco/Narcissa, 8.2k, E, non-con warning and maybe underage. Draco and Narcissa have to have passionate sex in front of all the Death Eaters and Voldemort.

Child, Witch, and Lord by missmarianne. Bellatrix/Voldemort, 7.6k, teen & up. Delphini's intentional conception process and Voldemort's thoughts on it. The best recreation of Voldemort internal monologue I've ever read.

Lord of the Manor by jadiss. Lucius/Snape, 3.2k, E. Little snippets on their relationship, from Hogwarts to death.

The Chronicles by yletylyf. 11k, M. Snape's experience as a double agent. Valuable ideas on canon plot and Snape's relationship with Voldemort. And a delicious little Bellamort moment. @yletylyf

A phantom pain by RiddleRedCoats. Bellatrix/Voldemort, 4.2k, general. Voldemort returns, finds out Bellatrix died in Azkaban, looks for her everywhere.

Real by deslea. Bellatrix & Rodolphus, 2.6k, M. The last scene of this has stuck with me among the most of any scene from any fic I've read.

Innocence by hervissa. 717 words, teen & up. Lucius finds out about Bellatrix & Voldemort. Really well-written and so funny, will never forget Lucius's reaction to the aftershave line.

a learning experience by Laeveteinn. Tom Riddle/Hepzibah Smith, 9k, teen & up. 'Hepzibah Smith is an acquired taste. Slowly but surely, Tom finds himself acquiring it.'

Adtitulo by jazminesays. Draco/Voldemort, Abraxas Malfoy/Voldemort, 144k, E, underage warning and probably non-con warning. Voldemort had a love affair with Abraxas in his youth and has Draco pretend to be Abraxas. I've read only the first half of this, not the Drarry. I love the relationships between the Slytherins, particularly Draco and Pansy, and their little traditions and human qualities and calling the alcove Candyland.

surrogate by 8623S44. Bellatrix/Voldemort, 179k, E. I need to reread this. One of the first fics I saved on AO3 and one I've always thought of as one of my favorites. What I remember most is the Voldemort POV rewrites of the scenes from Deathly Hallows. Full story of the first and second wars I think, but non-chronological.

Beauty and the Beast by Metalomagnetic. Bellatrix/Voldemort, 21k, M. One of the first fics I saved, and I have this labeled as a favorite, need to reread.

#I LOVE YOU #will add more as I discover #fanfic rec #harry potter fanfiction #voldemort #bellamort #harry potter #ao3

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etirabys · 1 month ago

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When I started translating my notes on Nick Lane's book on abiogenesis into an blog post, I felt like I'd woken up from an ultra detailed dream with an amazing plot, only to discover it makes no sense when I describe the twists. I kept reducing my ambitions until I succeeded in writing a rather muzzy and exasperated five paragraph summary for friends. Since I don't want to say nothing about my partial understanding of a partial account of abiogenesis, one of the most interesting questions ever, I will paste those paragraphs.

(Note: he chooses not to touch the major question of how DNA and DNA replication arose. This book is about how reality might have solved the other significant challenges.)

Nick Lane's bet on the location of the origin of life is underwater alkaline hydrothermal vents, which are formed when water sinks underwater, reacts with certain common rocks like olivine, and comes back hot & alkaline & also holding a lot of rock stuff like metals and sulfur. When this re-meets the ocean, the rock stuff precipitates out into a "mineralized sponge" riddled with labyrinthine interconnected pores, throughout which the pH difference can be dramatically different. Like 3-5 pH units.

This rock offers a bit of natural inside/outside protection for a protocell putting itself together. Organics naturally concentrate in small spaces due to thermophoresis, which is the phenomenon where larger molecules accumulate in the colder regions of a small space (because they're worse at randomly bouncing back to a hot region than a small molecule). So you have an environment full of CO2, hydrogen gas, metal catalysts, as well as a natural gentle flow of water carrying out waste. Promising!

Carbon fixation is the process of stripping carbon from inorganics like CO2 to tack them onto organic molecules like RNA. Every living cell has to do this. The simplest carbon fixation pathway only requires CO2 and H2, so let's assume it's the first pathway that was used. The pH difference comes into play twice, here: (1) Stripping an electron from H2 to give it to CO2 to make an organic molecule is hard in any pH, but not hard if the electron crosses a semiconducting mineral like FeS in a thin wall, from a more alkaline environment to a more acidic one. (2) Where does the energy to run these carbon fixation reactions come from? Simple membranes are by default porous to protons, which are small. Simple cells wedged between two areas with differences in pH can exploit the flow of protons, which go through (something like) ATP synthase to generate ATP, which can perform work in the cell much as they do now. (Actually, probably not ATP, but acetyl phosphate, which is much simpler but can do the same thing.)

But howww do you go from passively exploiting the proton gradient to producing it yourself by pumping protons out, as modern cells do? As a hint, we notice that all cells seem adapted to an internal concentration of Na+ that's weirdly lower than the ocean concentration. Na+ can also be used for energy production, and lipid membranes are much less permeable to Na+ than H+. So while there's no point in pumping H+ that'll come back immediately, there is an advantage to pumping Na+, since it'll stay out and increase the energy gradient you're using to live. The additional Na+ gradient can give the cell 60% more power than relying on protons alone, meaning cells with the Na+ pump can colonize areas of the vent with a smaller pH difference. Once you have an Na+ pump, there's an advantage to tightening the membrane against protons since… I didn't believe the logic here :/ but the endpoint is that you have an impermeable membrane studded all over with proton pumps, at which point you're ready to leave the vents.

Even this relatively plausible account is so implausible I don't think life actually arose...

Archaea and bacteria probably diverged before attaining independence, and left the vents separately. We think this because their cell membranes and cell walls are so different. Like, they both use glycerol to make their membrane impermeable to protons, but they use different stereoisomers of glycerol to do so. Both of them use the same fundamental energy converting membrane protein, but oriented in opposite directions, which led to different design constraints. Which I do not understand well enough to relay to you.

#rambl #eti reads the vital question

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dreamofbetterthings · 1 year ago

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"The things I can show you." Thomas Doherty x Reader

Prompt: “Oh, the things I can show you, little one.” Celebrity: Thomas Doherty/Walter Deville Movie: The Invitation Spoilers: None, this follows nothing from the movie. Summary: Filming for you and Thomas' new movie was a breeze… until he walked onto the set with fangs. Word Count: 4K

Warnings: 18+ choking kink, pet names (honey, sweetheart), biting kink, slight dubcon towards the beginning, dirty talk, slight impregnation kink?, begging, blood? I think that's all. If I miss any please let me know.

Minors DNI You are responsible for your own content consumption. I can tell you the post is not for minors, but if you choose not to listen, that is on you.

A/N I pulled this out of my head in the wee hours of the morning and could not lay back down until it was written and published. Reader is AFAB (assigned female at birth) I know my uploading schedule is shit. I am working on it. Also, chapter 3 of It's Been A Long, Long Time will be up soon. Until then, here's some slow-burn smut to keep ya nasties entertained. You're welcome.

You and Thomas spent nearly every day together on set. Even when he wasn't set to shoot anything that day, he was always hanging around the director to see every scene you filmed. The Invitation was a well-talked-about movie and based on what the folks on social media were saying, you were excited to let the world see the finished result. Thomas always managed to know when you would walk onto the set, and be the first person to speak to you.

"Good morning. I have a coffee for you." Thanking him, you took the coffee and all but chugged it. When you could hear his laughter, you pulled away from the cup.

"Oh come on. You act like you don't do the same thing when we've been filming all day." He puts his hands up in surrender and smiles.

"I won't deny that." Thomas grabs a script from a nearby table and flips through the sections of the script that are blocked in blue.

"Speaking of filming, most of the scenes look relatively quick for today. I think we're doing the last bit of scenes between the two of us and then we'll shift to the courtyard stuff after lunch." He shows you the script and before you can say anything, his name is being called into hair and makeup.

"And let the chaos ensue." He lets out a little chuckle.

"I wish you weren't right about that. I'll see you on the set?" Nodding your head you hear your own name being called. "Absolutely. Let's kill it today!" The two of you walk in your respective directions toward hair and makeup.

Run.

That was the only thing on your mind right now. Your feet hammered against the ground as you ran through the hallway. Your heart pounded against your chest, body aching. Your bag along with your phone was long gone as you ran for your life. Whoever that was, whatever it was that you were running away from, was not human. It looked like one, it sounded like one, but you knew better. An ominous growl came from behind and you could hear footsteps towards you.

You sprinted around the corner and took many twists and turns throughout the house, but every door you came to was somehow now locked, despite not being earlier. Running a few more feet down the hall you managed to find an unlocked door. You quickly ran into the room and silently closed the door before locking it.

It was another bedroom. The windows were barred and there were no other interconnecting rooms. You were screwed. The only places to hide were under the bed and in the closet. You decided against trying to fit your large dress under the bed and slipped into the surprisingly spacious closet. After what felt like an eternity of silence, there was a jiggle of the doorknob. A menacing laugh was heard on the other end of the door, before a large bang, and the door flew open.

Peering through the cracks of the doors, you saw him. You could see his shadow in the dimly lit room as he walked past your hiding spot and looked around. As he padded further into the room, you slid as far back as you could into the clothing, praying he wouldn’t know you were there. Through the thin slots of the closet door, you could see he was just standing there. Almost like he was thinking. Your eyes closed, and you silently hoped he would just go check somewhere else. That’s when you heard it.

"There you are."

Your eyes shot open. The door to the closet was pulled open, and he was staring directly into your soul. You quickly duck as he reaches out to grab you and somehow manage to make it to the other door. Just as your hand goes to turn the knob, a pair of hands reach around your waist, and you let out a scream you didn’t even know your voice was capable of creating. For a split second, you feel the wind around you, then the bed sheets violently connect with your back. You wished the mattress would just swallow you whole. Too afraid to look at the monster hovering above, you turn your face to the side. The creature finally speaks.

“Well, that took longer than expected. Had me thinking you’d actually make it out of here.”

“We had a deal.” There was nothing to hide how your voice trembled. The bed shook as he actually laughed.

“I don’t think you quite understood the rules of the game, honey. The rules were, if you managed to make it outside, I would let you go. But if you didn’t…” His hand finds its way around your throat and your shaking continues as he forces you to look at his face. The only thing catching your attention are the two abnormally sharp canines in his mouth. “Then you would stay here, with me.” He looks around the room and then back at you. “Last time I checked, you’re still in the house sweetheart.” He sees the tears running down your face and brushes them away with his other hand. “Don’t be so sad about it. Think of it this way. I try to be a man of my word. If you did find some magical way of making it outside, I would’ve let you go. No surprises, no tricks, nothing… but you didn’t. Do you know what that means?” His grip around your throat gets tighter and you feel a small amount of blood run as one of his claws scratches the side of your neck. He takes a deep inhale and groans. “That means we can have all the fun I had planned for you.”

Your eyes widen in fear and you want to move, but you can’t due to his grip around your throat. He turns your head to the side and you close your eyes. Not wanting to know what he’s going to do. Reaching down to your neck, he sticks his tongue out and licks up the bead of blood that gathered on your neck. Your entire body shakes. Moving his head, you can feel his fangs graze against your ear as he whispers. “Oh, the things I can show you, little one.”

“AND CUT!”

Thomas’ hand instantly leaves your throat and he takes your hands to pull you up so your back is against the headboard. “Are you alright? You were shaking really bad.” Not trusting your voice at the moment, you nod your head and laugh nervously. “Dude, you’re scary as fuck.” He laughs in response and wraps his arms around you in a hug. You do the same and the director, Oliver, comes over to the side of the bed visibly concerned. “Are you two okay?”

Looking over at Thomas, he gives you a smile and gives your shoulder a reassuring squeeze. You nod and smile. “Yeah, we’re good Oli.” He offers his hand and helps get the two of you out of the ridiculously large bed. As you straighten out your dress, Oliver speaks again. “I know we only did one take, but that was probably the best one we’ve gotten since filming started.” He turns and looks at you. “There was no point throughout the entire scene where I wasn’t genuinely scared for you. If the two of you keep this up, we might finish ahead of schedule.” The two of you thank him and walk over to his chair to watch the playback of the scene.

One of the assistants brings water for the two of you and you both thank her. Oliver plays the scene back from the beginning and instead of focusing on your own work, the second Thomas appears on the screen, and suddenly you feel the heat making its way through your body.

He looked really good.

And those fangs…

You could melt into the floor right about now. Oliver and Thomas are talking but you can’t manage to listen in on the conversation, let alone say anything. Your attention was on Thomas and how he managed to look attractive and terrifying at the same time. There were times when you swore the only reason he signed onto this film was because he liked being a bad guy. It was like he reveled in it, and he did it so well. Your eyes stay glued to the screen and you don’t notice Thomas watching how you respond to his presence.

You tossed your keys onto the counter of your hotel room, your shoes come off and you let yourself fall back on the bed. A loud sigh leaves your lips. There has never been a day that you wanted filming to end so badly. After a couple of seconds, you throw your phone on the charger and finally pull yourself up from the bed, grab your towel and clothes, and head for a much-needed shower. You quickly change and when the temperature is just right, you step in and immediately feel your shoulders relax.

As you wash your body off, you start to think to yourself, why were you so worked up today? After the first scene with Thomas, every slight brush of his hand against yours, or hand on your back sent a wave of heat throughout your body. Simple motions that are seemingly harmless in nature were reducing you to a trembling mess. Granted, you don't have a partner, so sexual frustration could definitely be the cause, but why now? You feel the heat spread to your core just at the thought. Shaking your head, you finish your shower and change into your shirt and underwear that you brought into the bathroom with you.

After drying your hair, the steam from your previous shower dissipates as you walk into the other room and you look around confused.

You could've sworn you kept the lights on.

Shaking your head, you cut on the soft light on your nightstand and reach for your phone.

Which was not on the charger where you left it.

Now you're starting to freak out.

Looking around the room, it seems like your phone is nowhere in sight. Almost like it disappeared. You check your bag, in case you didn't actually plug it in, but it's not there. Nothing in the clothes you wore that day, hell, you even checked your suitcase. Your phone is just gone. Going over to the hotel phone, you pick it up and try to dial your number, only to realize the phone cord is missing from the base. You stand there frustrated and a little scared for a couple of seconds before a voice snaps your head towards the front door.

"You didn't think I'd make it easy for you to call for help, did you?"

Slowly reaching for the heaviest thing closest to you, the shadow walks into the light and you let out a sigh of relief. "Jesus, Thomas. You can't sneak up on someone when they're fresh out of the shower!" Walking over to him, you ask. "So unless a crazed fan managed to break in, I'm assuming you have my phone?" He pulls something out of his pocket and you see the familiar case, indicating he did in fact, have it.

Flashing it in front of your face, you reach to grab your phone, but he leans away from you so you can't take it. "Yeah, I don't think you'll be needing it tonight." Giving him a "Really?" you go to get your phone and he pulls it away from your grasp once again. Letting out a frustrated huff, you put your hands on your hips. "Come on Thomas, give me my phone. I have to check my emails." You see him toss your device behind him, lucky that there was a couch sitting where it landed, and when he turns back to you, he speaks again. "Like I said. I don't think you'll be needing it tonight. After all, why would I make it easy for you to call for help?" Your eyebrows furrow, and you laugh, although slightly uncomfortable with how the air in the room seemed to shift. It felt, darker. Every bone in your body told you to leave. Turning around to look for a pair of pants, you mumble to yourself. "Alright, I did not plan on my night ending like this."

Turning around, you let out a scream and drop your sweatpants as a hand comes up and covers your mouth. He was standing so close you could feel his breath on your face. Looking Thomas in the eyes, they were dark, and you suddenly felt like you were no longer safe in his presence. "I don't think you quite understand the rules of the game honey." He stares into your eyes and the next thing you know, your feet are walking backward on their own until you are stopped by the edge of the bed. He remembers his hand is covering your mouth and speaks again. "The rules were, if you managed to make it outside, I would let you go. But if you didn’t…Then you would stay with me. Do you know what that means?” You struggle to get out a couple of muffled sounds when he brings his face closer to yours. “That means we can have all the fun I had planned for you.”

Your eyes widen as the lamp in the room shows his face fully, and that's when you see it.

He was in the outfit from the first scene you two filmed earlier that morning. You glance down at his mouth and you feel the heat pool at your legs.

He had the fangs in.

He leans his mouth down against your ear like he did earlier that day, and repeated the same line. “Oh, the things I can show you, little one.” Next thing you know you're being laid down on the bed, and the man you once knew as your friend was hovering over you. "What do you want with me?" Your voice was weak, and judging from the smile that never left his face, he was enjoying this. He was enjoying toying with you. He leans down and drags his tongue against your neck, earning a strained whine to leave your mouth. "I simply want what I've been waiting this whole time for…you. I've seen the way you look at me when you think nobody is watching. And it made me want to take you then and there, but no. I couldn't do it with so many people around. So, what better time than now? Your phone is off, the landline is disconnected, and as far as anybody coming to rescue you goes, they all think you're headed to sleep with the rest of the cast."

If there was any time to hate yourself for not wearing pants to bed, now was that time. Thomas moved your legs apart with his knee and ground his hips into you, showing you just how tight the bulge in his jeans had become. You let out a small gasp that he managed to catch, and he let out a smile. "Something tells me you're enjoying yourself more than I expected. I don't even think I'll have to compel you." His large hands lift up the bottom of your shirt, exposing your underwear, and you shiver as the cool night air exposes you in such an intimate place. He carefully pulls the thin fabric down and off your ankles with ease, and your body goes tense. He looks you in the eyes and asks the last question you thought could ever come out of his mouth.

"Do I have your permission honey?" You shift needily against the bed as you let out a small "Yes." That's the only approval he asks before his fingers gently reach down and feel the wetness between your folds and you sigh quietly. A groan leaves his lips. "Is all that for me baby? You like it when I touch you like this?" His slender fingers brush against your clit, sending a jolt of pleasure through you, making you unknowingly moan. "There we go. You're such a good girl for me." He does it again, and again until he's rubbing gentle circles on your clit at an agonizingly slow pace. Your body relaxes into the bed as Thomas continues whispering into your ear. "That's is baby. Relax. It's just you and me. I want you to enjoy this."

He was taking his time with you, and to an outsider looking in, it was almost sweet. Not long after, the fear left your brain and was replaced with nothing but bliss. He must've been able to tell when your last fighting bit of sanity faded because he became more eager. "There's so much I want to do with you, honey. I want to taste you until you cum on my tongue. Wanna feel you clench around my cock as I ravish you." His hand on your clit sped up a little. "I wanna see the look on your face when you come undone because of me. At first, I didn't think you could take it. But I know you can. I know you can take all of me. I know you can handle everything I give you because you're such a good girl, and I know you wanna be good for me. Right baby?" Your small whimpers have progressed to moans as you stop fighting the sensation and start to welcome it.

Out of nowhere, the feeling is gone as he removes his fingers from your clit, but quickly replaced them when he lays down and licks through your folds. Your breathing was fast and heavy as his tongue went to work. The sensation builds when he slips two fingers into you and easily starts pumping them in and out. You were almost there, and he could tell. He moaned against your clit and gently grazed it with his fangs, and that was all it took before you exploded. You threw your head back against the bed as you came, and Thomas latched onto your clit sucking on it to prolong your orgasm for as long as he could.

He finally pulls his fingers out of you and licks them clean before standing up and discarding his clothes in an almost superhuman nature, before he's back to hovering over you. His lips attach to yours and you eagerly kiss him back, tasting yourself on his tongue. "If you taste that good, I can only imagine what you feel like." Looking down at him, your eyes get wide.

He's not abnormally huge, but definitely bigger than any man you've been with to date. He rubs his cock between your folds and you moan at the overstimulation, still coming down from your high. He rests his hand on the back of your head and looks you in the eyes. "You're going to take all of me, yeah?" You can only nod as you no longer trust your voice. He leans down and captures your mouth in a kiss again as he slowly pushes inside you.

He releases your mouth to let out a moan, and by god… this was the moment you realized you were in over your head. Every time you thought he was fully in, he would slide in more, and more. He finally bottoms out and you swear you're seeing stars. No, fuck that. You were seeing galaxies. He only gives you a few moments to adjust to his size before he pulls himself almost all the way out, and sinks back in. Your eyes roll to the back of your head.

The pace was brutally slow but felt wonderful. You couldn't pay attention to anything but how he felt, and it felt ungodly. He finds his own rhythm within a few thrusts and it was like you died and went to wherever the hell you were currently. He brings his other hand from around your waist and slides it down to your leg, wrapping it around his waist and allowing him to sink in just a little deeper, and you cry out.

A smile forms on his lips and he keeps his hand on your leg, refusing to let you not feel the full extent of what this angle could provide. Noticing your hands are gripping your bedsheets, he moves his hand from behind your head and takes your own to grab at his body. He thrusts into you again, and again, over and over, the new angle allowing him to drag his cock against just the right spot that drove you wild. Leaning down to rest his forehead against yours, he pants out. "Fuck, baby. It's like this sweet pussy of yours was made for me."

You could feel your second orgasm building and lord help you because you were so close. Thomas seemed to notice as well, your walls practically trying to suck him in completely. He speeds up his pace ever so slightly and that's when you feel the pressure of his hand going around your neck. He leans down and talks into your ear. "I can feel you're close honey. God. I'm going to put a fucking baby in you. Would you like that? You want me to cum inside this gorgeous little cunt, huh?" You moan and try to nod as your nails scratch up and down his arms and back. "Yes, yes Thomas, please!" He laughs a little at how you answered him. "Aw, yeah? You're so cock drunk you're begging me to cum inside your pretty pussy?" He makes you look at him as your eyes keep closing. "Beg for it again, and maybe, if you're good for me, I'll let you cum."

Your voice is nothing but whimpers and whines as you plead with your eyes. A chorus of "Please." leaves your mouth and that satisfies him to the point where he is kissing and sucking on the side of your neck. "I want you to cum, and I want you to let everybody in this hotel know whose cock is making you feel this good. Can you do that for me?" You just nod as you feel your orgasm teetering on the edge. He applies more pressure against your throat, and that's all it takes. As your climax begins, he sinks his teeth into your neck, and you let out a struggling moan from the sensation as you cum. The only name on your lips is his over and over, like a broken record. Thomas moans against your neck and he starts to tense, holding you as close to him as possible. He seats himself as far into you as he can, and the warm feeling of his cock shooting his cum inside you only prolongs your orgasm.

After the two of you finally come down from your respective highs, he turns the two of you on your side and lies there. Giving you a chance to intake some form of oxygen. You pant out a weak "Oh my god." and you feel the rumble from his body as he laughs. "I told you, adding the fangs would be a great idea." It takes every ounce of energy in your body to raise your arm and playfully hit him. "Shut up, that was God tier even if you didn't have them in." He laughs again and as he agrees, you ask, "Where the hell did all that dirty talk come from?" Thomas shrugs his shoulders and smiles. "A master of his craft never reveals his secrets." Playfully rolling your eyes, a yawn escapes your mouth.

Thomas pulls out of you and you sigh sadly at the loss of contact, only for him to pull the blanket over you and get up off the bed to grab your phones. You watch as he plugs them both into the wall and climbs back into bed before cutting the light off. Cuddling into his chest, your legs intertwine and you both lay there in comfortable silence, until a thought pops into your head, making you laugh a little. "What's so funny?" You think about the situation and explain.

"Had I known it would've taken you stealing my phone from me to get you to put the fangs in, I would've let you take it a long time ago." The two of you laugh and he asks, "Is that your way of telling me you want Mr. Deville to peek his head back in the bedroom again?" He realizes that at some point, he's going to have to tell you that the fangs aren't fake. But that thought leaves his mind as he feels himself getting hard again at your answer "As far as I'm concerned, he can come back anytime he wants." Thomas lets out an "Oh really?" before flipping the two of you so he's sitting between your legs again. "Because I think he's still hungry." A moan leaves your lips as Thomas sinks his cock back into you, and you mentally prepare for the terrible time you're going to have to try and get up in the morning.

#the invitation #walter deville #walter deville x reader #thomas doherty #thomas doherty x reader #vampire #fanfiction #smut

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ultimate-submas-tournament · 1 year ago

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Do you like Submas? Do you like polls? Do you wish there was more polls to vote for train boys on?

Then boy do I have the tournament for you!

Introducing the

ULTIMATE SUBMAS TOURNAMENT

Where all the Ingos compete to find the best Ingo, and all the Emmets compete to find the best Emmet- and then they duke it out!!!!!

Come explore this melting pot of different AU creations from across the website- including your own!

That’s right! You too can compete in this for fun event! Get yourself out there!

Here’s the rules and how to sign up:

1) No bl///shipping AUs or bl///shipping blogs may enter. This is a platonic only submas tourney.

2) No NSFW 18+ AUs or NSFW 18+ blogs may enter. I want this to be welcoming to younger folks to so I’m gonna have to draw a line here.

3) You can only enter your own AU. You can share this post with other submas creators, but you can only personally enter AUs that you have made content for.

4) You can only enter AUs that have content made for it. It doesn’t matter if that content is a fic, a few drawings, or a series of interconnected tumblr asks- as long as there is content you can link me to, it qualifies.

5) You may enter up to two AUs (one for each brother). This may be lowered to one AU per user if the demand gets too high.

6) While non inc/st ships are not outright banned, AUs must be more than “canon compliant warden Ingo but he’s dating Melli”. Give us something fun to work with.

7) AUs can, and are encouraged to crossover with other content. Cretur AUs are also allowed because turning blorbos into cretur is fun.

8) Only Ingos and Emmets may be entered. We all love Elesa but this ain’t her tourney. (Fusions can be entered, but they will be placed in a fusion only bracket that will not affect the main tourney)

9) Lower your expectations. This is for fun, there is no prize, and statistically you will not win. Please do not whine and complain when you are inevitably knocked out.

10) BE NICE TO THE CONESTENTS. Holy heck don’t make me catch y'all harassing other people for ANY REASON. I will block you. Don’t make me do it.

How to enter:

Reblog this post with

1) The name of your AU

2) A link to your fic /tumblr tag /masterpost

3) An image that you want to represent your AU. (If you have no image, one of my associates or I will draw a simple one- but it won’t be very good and you shouldn’t expect much)

4) The name of the preferred brother you wish to enter (preferred brother may be overruled if the brackets get too uneven)

(If you plan on entering a second AU, you must do these steps again with a second reblog. The first AU you enter will be considered the priority if we get too many entries.)

(Entries may be denied for things like: side bl///shipping accounts, pedo//ilia, harassment or other things in that same vein. They may also be denied for more benign things like, “hey I love you lots but this is just canon Ingo”)

Entries must be submitted by the first of June!! Thank you for participating and ALL ABOARD!

#submas #submas au #subway master emmet #subway master ingo #subway bosses #subway boss emmet #subway boss ingo #bracket tournament #pokemon

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talonabraxas · 4 months ago

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7 things that affect your vibration frequency from the point of view of metaphysical concepts.

In metaphysics and quantum physics, vibration refers to the energy inherent in all aspects of existence. Each entity, from particles to thoughts, emits its own frequency, contributing to the interconnected web of energy that surrounds us. These frequencies influence how we perceive and experience the world around us. Vibration in quantum physics means everything is energy. We are vibrant beings on certain frequencies. Every vibration is equivalent to a feeling, and in the world of "Vibrational," there are only two species of vibrations: positive and negative. Any feeling makes you broadcast a vibration that can be positive or negative.

1. Every thought emits a frequency to the universe, and this frequency returns to its origin. If you have negative thoughts all of this comes back to you. Take care of the quality of your thoughts and cultivate positive.

2. The people around you directly influence your vibration frequency. Surrounding yourself with happy and positive people elevates your vibration. Conversely, being around people who complain, gossip, and are pessimistic can lower your frequency and hinder the law of attraction.

3. Pay attention to the lyrics of the music you listen to, as they can influence your feelings and vibration frequency. Remember, you attract what you feel in your life.

4. Be mindful of the content you consume. Programs that focus on misfortunes can lower your vibration frequency. Opt for content that uplifts and inspires you.

5. A messy and dirty environment can affect your vibration frequency. Take the time to organize and clean your surroundings.

6. Be mindful of the words you speak. Avoid complaining and speaking negatively about others.

7. Cultivate a habit of gratitude by giving thanks for both the good and challenging experiences in your life. Gratitude opens the door to more positivity.

In this interconnected web of energy, our choices ripple through us and the universe.

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drconstellation · 6 months ago

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I Know Where I'm Going

Aziraphale's Edinburgh Journey: Part 5

Episode 3 of S2 is named after a black-and-white 1945 Powell and Pressburger film, which is in turn named after an old Scottish folk song. It's a delightful film, which I'll discuss further below the cut, that strides headlong into the theme of fate vs free will, among other things.

This is the last major piece we need to tie things together, after starting this journey with The Clue in Episode 2, which lead Aziraphale to make the journey to Edinburgh in the first place.

Fate vs Free Will

I Know Where I'm Going, both the film and S2E3, is about not ending up where you expected to be, so this how Aziraphale went expecting to find the answer to one question, but found the answer to an unexpected question instead. So part of the problem we have is that while we end up getting the answers to two questions, one expected and one unexpected, I feel people really aren't recognizing the questions that raise them in the first place.

Not making sense? Let me describe the film.

Joan is a confident young (25yo) lady on her way to the (fictitious) Ilse of Kiloran to marry a rich older industrialist. This involves a journey by train then several ferries to the ultimate destination. However she gets stuck on the Isle of Mull, the penultimate stop, as the weather turns, and has to stay the night, then several days, as a bad gale blows.

She meets a fellow traveller, Torquill McNeil, a naval officer home on leave, who invites her up to one of the local mansions. Joan meets some of the delightful and slightly eccentric locals (the pack of goofy, soft wolf hounds of the Lady of the house, Catriona Potts, are a highlight of the film, imo) including a retired colonel who's into falconry who keeps going on about a lost golden eagle that he's training. (The eagle is a metaphor for Torquill, it turns out.)

We find out Torquill is actually the Laird of Kiloran, and he is renting out Kiloran to Joan's husband-to-be for money while he's off in the navy seeing the world. Torquill knows all the locals, and the locals know him, and they are all kind of bound together as one big happy family, in a way.

The next morning Torquill takes Joan to the hotel in another village to talk to her fiance via radio, as they still can't get to the other island. The fiance (who we never see) recommends visiting another house nearby. She does, and we find out they are also rich from new money, and care nothing about the locals and the local environment. And this is where we start learning there is a bit of divide between the old and the new, the rural out door life that is connected to the land, and the new wealth that cuts itself off from its surroundings and other people. And Joan is going to be a part of that - in her dream on the train, the same dream that gives us the tartan clad hills, she marries a corporation, not a person - so impersonal!

Joan is desperate to get across to Kiloran (she knows where she's going! She thinks...) After repeatedly bumping into Torquill over the next couple of days and it becoming evident there are feelings growing between them, she bribes a young local boatman to take her across to her fiance and expected marriage on Kiloran to escape this, even though the gale is still blowing strong. Torquill finds out at the last minute, and jumps into the boat with them. They get caught in a squall, and the motor cuts out. The tide drags them towards the infamous local whirlpool, and they only just escape due to Torquill's expertise.

Joan is chastened when they return to safety. That was the point of not risking the crossing in the gale in the first place, explains Torquill. They could have sent a rescue boat out if they got into trouble, but it puts more than just the rescuers at risk, it puts their families at risk, and then that extends to the whole island. Doesn't she see how the whole island is interconnected? She finally realizes how selfish she has been.

The next day dawns brightly, and the gale has finally blown out - the sea is a calm and a ferry crossing will be no trouble today. The colonel finally catches up with his golden eagle, and brings it home to roost.

Joan and Torquill say their farewells on the road, and there's a Great Big Kiss before they part and go their separate ways.

Torquill walks past the ruined castle that he is fated to be cursed if he enters as Laird of Kiloran. But he decides to risk it, and he goes in and explores the ruins, and we hear the whole story of the curse and finds that it isn't such a bad curse after all - in a metaphorical way! The next thing he hears is bagpipes - it's Joan returning up the road with the pipers that were supposed to be at her wedding. She has decided she wasn't going where she thought she was going after all and has come back to be with Torquill, her new love.

That's the basics of the story, but if you would like to watch it, I would recommend you do, as there is a lot more in it than that.

(I did watch "A Matter of Life and Death/Stairway to Heaven" before finishing this post, seeing as the book that features in it also appears in S2xE3, which is the main episode around the trip to Edinburgh, but more in relation to Gabriel's situation I think. It also deals with a character trying to escape their intended fate, but they do so by attending a formal trial and pleading their case. Other ops have reviewed the film here and here if you want to find out a bit more. I wasn't as impressed with that film, sorry to say, but I will probably watch it again to reflect on certain features and points in it relevant to GO, there is a lot. And to work out which minor character a very young Sir Richard Attenborough was playing!)

Lunatic Behaviour and Lethal Traps

Some ops have pointed out that Elspeth and Wee Morag act as parallel characters to Crowley and Aziraphale. While some would argue there are various ways to interpret this, the music indicates that Elspeth aligns with Crowley and Wee Morag with Aziraphale.

Elspeth is the one trying hard to engineer the pair's escape from the poverty trap they are in, even if it is by nefarious means. Wee Morag is the one scandalised by Elspeth's illicit actions, and concerned about doing right by Heaven. Crowley takes up Elspeth's side of the argument against Aziraphale, that its not as easy to escape poverty as one thinks (i.e. just working hard will fix things) but he also tries to warn Wee Morag that things don't work the way she thinks they do in the afterlife either.

So what's the price one pays for going down the path of body snatching as an escape from poverty? You have to get past the lethal traps of the grave guns that have been set, by not tripping the wires. And again, its the wealthy privileged ones that have the advantage.

Acting in haste was a disaster. They got split up, never to see one another again. One more body may have got them out of short term trouble, but what about the long term?

Escape is a nice dream, but a harsh reality.

Elspeth was going to use the laudanum as another form of easy escape, until Crowley prevented it, then acted as a daemonium ex machina to assist her in escaping properly good, using Aziraphale's money, as that was really the only way she was going to escape for good.*

Joan tried to escape Torquill in I Know Where I'm Going, but only cast herself and her companions into danger. If she had been more patient and less selfish, she might have had everything she wanted without suffering on the way. But that wouldn't have made as good a story then, would it? And she wouldn't have gotten to know Torquill and fallen for him, either.

If Aziraphale ran away to Alpha Centauri with Crowley, like Crowley had been urging in the present, would they be free? The inference is its unlikely, that they wouldn't be able to escape their own "poverty trap," the alarms would be raised, and the trouble they caused would be too deep to pull themselves out of. Luck hasn't been on their side so far.

The View from Above

By now we should be alert to characters trying to avoid their fate, or perhaps ending up in places they weren't intending to. Fate has a weird way of biting you on the backside, as the trope goes.

Giant Crowley did end up somewhere he wasn't intending to be, and perhaps accidentally ended up playing God and deciding Elspeth's fate. There are mentions of angels as tall as mountains, or tall as the sky in the Bible, so him ordering Aziraphale to give all his money to Elspeth while looking down at them shouldn't really be out of place for those familiar with the book. Crowley also took Elspeth's fate into his own hands when he snatched the laudanum away from her and drank it down, an action akin to absolving her of her sins.

Aziraphale also tried to change Elspeth's and Wee Morag's fate, by changing his mind about the morality of the body snatching. That didn't end up the way he hoped or expected, either.

Mr Dalrymple was of aware of two fates he could meet, he just didn't know which one it would be at the time he was s talking to Aziraphale and Crowley.

DALRYMPLE: I either end up with a knighthood or condemned as a resurrectionist and hanging from a rope.

Sadly, we find out through Aziraphale reading the pamphlet he picked up outside the pub that it was along the lines of the second one - he might not have been actually condemned for a crime, but he condemned his own conscience and then his soul.

If you would like a contrast to this, come back to S1xE2, where we approach a young Newton Pulsifer in his bedroom, about to short out the electrical works for his whole neighbourhood yet again. God is narrating at this point, and the camera view pans down from the sky...and bumps with a visible jolt and audible noise into the window frame of his bedroom. (I wasn't able to find a GIF for this.)

Newt is a Crowley-parallel, they are both on the side of free will and choosing one's destiny. This is not a place for God, the decider of Fate, to trespass. There will be no crossing of this threshold, Frances!

I would just like to take a step back here to Part 4: Judgement Day, if I may, and reconsider this view of the missing cross in the statue of Gabriel's arms:

This is the only point of view that we don't see the cross from. It's still seen from between Gabriel's and Beelzebub's shoulders, and Crowley stills see it in 1826, so it's not invisible to demons.

So I would like to ask, could the missing cross view be God's point of view?

The viewpoint is similar to the one in the Job minisode, as seen from where Aziraphale and Crowley are witnessing Job listen to the Almighty speak to him.

So, perhaps if God isn't seeing the cross, they aren't the one who has so-called Ineffable Plans for the Second Coming in mind.

Yeah, so there's the Great Plan, and the Ineffable Plan, but are they the same plan...and who is pushing so hard for the Great Plan to come to completion, then? Not Gabriel or Beelzebub, that's for sure.

66 Goat Gate

Just before we attempt to wrap things up, we should have a look at the address on the Clue, but it doesn't really tell us anything we don't already know.

We know the address of the pub in Edinburgh appears in two places, once on the record single Maggie gives to Aziraphale and once on the matchbox that held the fly. There is a difference in the way they are written, with an comma on the record, and also Goat Gate written as two words, whereas it is one word on the matchbox.

Gate was old name for a road, so one interpretation could be that it was hinting at a demon road, or an underground road (demons live in Hell, which is underground, and demons are also associated with goats) and that ties in with the resurrection and Judgement Day theme we have going on, and perhaps should alert us to the presence of at least one demon being involved with Gabriel. On the other side, a goatgate is a relatively modern term for someone who talks a load of shite, so to speak. If we use Strong's Concordance to add the 66 to it, it becomes a wild or fierce mouth. Which kind of suits the Leviathan referenced in the verse from the Book of Job. The first version then looks like a wild underground road to Hell on the way to the Second Coming (the Harrowing of Hell in the Passion, anyone?) Don't forget the number 6 is associated with Hell as well.

Piecing the Elephant Together

There is a famous parable about a group of blind men meeting an elephant for the first time. They each go up and touch a different part of the huge beast, and subsequently give a different description for each part of it, but collectively they can't describe it properly as a whole.

That's kind of how we tend to look at Good Omens - its such a huge, complicated beast of a story, with each of us picking out one strand to analyze that might be our specialty, but we don't necessarily have all the other pieces nearby to aid our understanding as to why it was placed there or what it is doing and how that aids the purpose of the story.

To sum things up:

Aziraphale's trip to Edinburgh in the Bentley is a parallel to Crowley and Muriel going to Heaven together to find out about Gabriel, but Aziraphale is actually going to Edinburgh to find out about Beelzebub (he just doesn't realize it.)

Gabriel was there in the pub, and met with a "Mason" in a regular black-coloured suit that the barman was used to seeing Masons dressed in, because he noted that Gabriel's light grey suit was different.

We are shown many clues to the looming Second Coming

We see parallel scenes to S1, which at the same time sets upparallels for S3, which are about starting Armageddon. Again.

We also gain a lot of interlinked information for other parts of S2, and parts that link up with S1 and maybe S3, such as:

Aziraphale's main parallel in S2 is Beelzebub, with Maggie a parallel blend of the two of them.

Mr Dalrymple shows us that something needs to be cut out to save the innocent, but we also need to learn what it is before we can do that.

Elspeth and Wee Morag show us that running away is not as simple an option as it seems, its more a fatal trap than anything.

The Masonic symbols appearing in S2 remind us that life and death is a cycle, but also sometimes thoughts need to be turned around.

Aziraphale thought he knew where he was going, but he didn't really; fate gave him answers that he wasn't expecting. Did he ask the right questions?

There is not just a single purpose for Aziraphale to go to Edinburgh, there were several.

I also think Aziraphale didn't have enough time to stop and think about it, or talk it through with Crowley. They both had to leap from one thing to another until it was too late.

I was going to finish this off with that quote about history repeating itself until you learn from your mistakes or something, but then I found this one:

*Slaps this beast on the backside to move it along so it can go roam free in the wilderness.*

*This is actually something that is well researched but not well known, and is called the Success Paradox. You can watch a good explanation of it by one of my favourite science vloggers Veratisium here. Women are probably most aware of it intuitively, because of inherit sexism in our patriarchal society, but it also exists in the attitude "if you work hard you can make anything happen." What most people don't realize is how much luck factors into their success. Lucky they were born into a wealthy family. Lucky they met the right person on the right day. Lucky they were chosen over another etc. Before you argue otherwise, do stop and think about it.

The other posts in this series can be found here:

Part 1: Detective Aziraphale Part 2: Aziraphale-Beelzebub Parallels Part 3: Stocktaking in the Basement Part 4: Judgement Day

#good omens #good omens 2 #good omens meta #i know where i'm going #fate vs free will #powell and pressburger

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ravenalla · 2 years ago

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Okay I swear this will be my last rant post before the next episode airs but I have to get it off my chest cause I keep seeing the argument made that people disappointed Din gave the darksaber away are forgetting the lack of plot in the previous seasons, which I very heavily disagree.

I can’t speak for everyone, but at least for me when I’m saying I’m disappointed Din did not become Manda’lor I am not saying I hated the adventure of the week side quest format they had. That’s what I liked best about the show! It was great in season 1 feeling like Din was just the random guy off on his own adventure with this baby he found, I would have loved for it to have kept that small space western feel. Season 3 becoming this big interconnected universe with a corrupted New Republic plot connecting to the sequels is what I was most worried about just because I personally don’t like that direction. The more they’ve tried to go the Andor route and make this show about the Galatic politics, the worst it’s become imo (we literally have two white dudes writing a plot point about droids liking being underclass and serving the soft democratic people that is ruled with the help of a former Nazi, but ohh it’s okay it’s Jack Black and he’s funny and the Space Nazi and the Space Nazi doctor are really sorry for what they did, look the New Republic is just as bad as the fascist imperials 🥺🥺)

What some people are not getting is that the darksaber is ALL. DIN. HAD. LEFT. There was no driving force or goal for him after episode 2, they reunited him with his child in a spin-off show, they have him redeem himself fairly easily without any emotional impact, and now they took away the opportunity to do one last interesting thing with him. Din does not have his own actions or thoughts throughout most of the season, and when he does it’s just retracing the character development they already gave him in previous seasons (i.e. the whole droid fiasco). He’s a plot device, meant to further Bo-Katan’s character and help her with her goals or have him in danger so she can save him. It was okay if Din did not become Manda’lor, but they can’t just make him having the darksaber out to be a huge deal, show him trying to learn how to train with it, and give it up so stupidly through a loophole just so Bo-Katan can lead again when she has done nothing to actually earn it or apologize for the way she disrespected Din’s entire culture again and again. She was a terrorist who has done a 180 into suddenly being an honorable character just because of a few action scenes, no introspection or interesting conflict between her and the covert about their differences, nothing about her actually thinking about her past mistakes, just the covert being there to look like dumbasses who settled on a dangerous planet where their children get eaten so Bo can lead missions, look a million times more competent in comparison, and suddenly be the one who deserves to lead.

There doesn’t have to be a big plot each episode, but it’s not being executed well like it was in the first two seasons. The goal was getting Grogu to a Jedi, and we were given the interesting side adventures on that journey. Din needs to find somewhere he can lay low, he goes to Sorgan and becomes tempted by a domestic life. Din needs credits, he takes a job with some old acquaintances and sees what kind of slimy person he could have been. Din needs to find other mandos to help him find a Jedi, he runs into a small town desperate for help with a Krayt Dragon and showcases his pride in being a Mandalorian but his respect for other cultures and his willingness to do the right thing. He travels to a planet ruled by an former Imperialist because the Jedi he was searching for was there and helps her to save a town both for their sake and his need to give his son the best life he can have. See the pattern? They were side adventures, but they weren’t a random hodgepodge of ideas, they fit the story and the tone, giving us interesting side characters and helping to develop our main characters. Din showed his leadership, his growing kindness, his frustrations, his annoyances, his fears, Grogu becomes more adventurous, vocal, and attached to who he’s starting to see as a father figure. They both aren’t talkative characters, but they had feelings and personalities we saw. They had moments between them that wasn’t just exposition for the plot or a push towards an action scene, it showed their lives and values, their relationships. Little moments like Din being happy to hear Grogu’s name, Cobb sharing his story and why he valued the armor, Omera talking with Din about his life and wondering if he could stay, Frog Lady wanting to get her eggs safely to her husband and Din comedically trying to make that happen. The story was driven by these characters decisions and their personalities.

Season 3, on the other hand, has taken away all the life of these side adventures in its goal to tie in a larger Star Wars narrative that connects to other shows. They are not character driven anymore, and instead the characters are being twisted and molded to do and say stuff that’ll get us from point A to point B instead of the other way around. The point of Din breaking his creed is not to see what that would mean for his identity or how he wants to live with Grogu by his side, the point is to take him to Mandalore so that he can ultimately get trapped and fall down a hole so Bo-Katan can see the Mythosaur. The point of Bo-Katan’s crew leaving her and her staying in a random castle for no reason doing nothing all day isn’t for her to recognize her past failings or show us what their relationship was like and what it meant to her, it’s to have an easy offscreen explanation so that she can come to the covert without anything challenging in the way. The point of Din’s coverts staying on a monster-infested planet where Paz’s son is kidnapped isn’t because it makes sense they’d be there or that Paz suddenly even has a son we’ve never seen before, it’s so they can put in CGI monsters they thought were cool and have Bo save the day so they can have a flimsy reason she does need to be leader again. The point of spending time with the covert and having random pirates attacking Nevarro wasn’t to develop the other mandalorians as actual characters, it was to have them accept Bo easily so that she can “walk both worlds” and give Carl Weather’s character more screentime. And so much more.

Things are happening, but it doesn’t matter whether they make sense or fit the characters anymore, because all the side quest are focused on is bending over backwards trying to make you believe this Bo deserves the darksaber narrative. Before that it wasn’t like the Covert was planning to take back Mandalore, Din wasn’t planning to take back Mandalore, Bo didn’t tell anybody what she saw so there was no real stakes for anybody. Nobody in the main plot has had any purpose as more than side characters besides her. Din may have been the main character, but the people he met on his journey didn’t just do stuff to contribute to his own character or finding a Jedi. Omera had her own goals, Cobb had his own goals, Fennec had her own goals, Boba had his own goals, and they all still worked well with the narrative without diminishing each other, Din developed on the way by learning from the other characters and them him. What the fuck does Din want this season? Paz? The Armorer? The answer is whatever will make it easiest for the plot to retake Mandalore and have Bo be the Manda’lor for these writers, despite it being shown previously they have no reason to care or like Bo-Katan.

Like, some character moments are there. Bo is changing. I’m not saying that’s not happening at all. But it’s being done in a way that is sabotaging every other aspect of the show to force this plot that they wanted, the sidequest are feeling duller because they aren’t for these characters to have fun adventures we get emotionally invested in that simultaneously furthers the actual main characters goal, it’s let’s just have a CGI dragon, let’s have Lizzo and Jack Black guest star, let’s have Zeb from Rebels be in there for no reason. Unless again you count Bo as the main character, but like honestly she’s not even having natural character development. She went from being an antagonistic ex-terrorist to suddenly being kind and charitable with hardly any buildup or insight into her feelings. It doesn’t feel organic. I know she lost everything, but they still made it seem like she blamed Din for it only to have her rescue him once and completely abandon that hostility. The best we really have gotten is Grogu remembering his past while with the armorer and setting up his future as a Mandalorian, but even that feels cheapened when the armor he was given isn’t even talked about with the person who he shares the symbol with him that signifies their relationship, making me think it’s just another merchandise decision.

We wanted Din to learn to rule because, even if we did have to say goodbye to the adventure of the week type format, it would have been in service of his character evolving into something he doesn’t think he deserves or is good at. It would have been the next step in his journey, accumulating everything he has learned, the growth he went through using both diplomacy and his skills as a fighter time and time again. Instead, they chose to really quickly ditch any of the conflicts he had so they could have him free to do this instead. If they had waited one more season, this could have possibly been done well imo. Din’s arcs could have been brought to a meaningful and satisfying conclusion, and then you could have made him and Bo-Katan become co-leads. It wouldn’t have mattered as much then if they decided to focus a little more on her. But instead they essentially abandoned Din’s story they’ve spent two seasons creating to go ahead and tell her own.

The side quest aren’t what people are complaining about. It’s that they have no meaning for our characters other than having everybody circling around Bo most of the time or creating some big connection to the sequel triology and setting up the Star Wats MCU, which wasn’t the style of writing this show did. I don’t care how many ways people want to argue against it, Din is not the main character in this season, which is not what they have been selling us all year, and he doesn’t even have any engaging story or arc as a side character either. That is the problem, and that is why these side quest and the lack of an actual plot do not work.

#the mandalorian #the mandalorian spoilers #the mandalorian season 3 #mando critical #rant #din djarin #bo katan kryze #grogu #hope this made sense

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thankeywa · 2 years ago

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Star-Crossed pt.4/? | Lo'ak x human!fem!reader (NSFW)

Warnings: once again, both Lo'ak and the reader are 20y/o, , MINORS DO NOT INTERACT with this or anything on my accounts. NSFW!!! this is the smut chapter. Nothing else. you can still skip this without losing any plot of the story.

words: 2.3k

summary: the reader is a human left behind on pandora, she grew up with the remaining humans who'd been allowed to stay on the planet after the war and has been friends with the Sully clan her entire life. She and Lo'ak were best friends until he began to pull away from her in their teen years for seemingly no reason. This story is about them reconnecting on the day of her twentieth birthday, and dealing with the feelings they have for each other and the obstacles that come with them being from two different worlds.

part 1 part 2 part 3

tag list: @aleromania , @ghostjoohoney, @cherry-blossom34, @stephenandfiveswhore , @neteyamforlife, @mochi-yu , @halibanana @notquitehero @vanillacoffeeaddict @kitsune0077 @mara-brekker @sully-stick-together @luthien-naenderthal @phantomalex14 @vanillawhale @omiivr @barbii04 @grierpilots @itszzmoon @wavyteals @punkrockrogers @fanboyluvr @Iwesodra @roguesimagination @kathrynlupin @anxietydrogz @b0rednb1tchy @xkaykay

Lo'ak was aware of the 'fight or flight' response that was said to be experienced by humans and other animals on Earth. Grace, Kiri's biological mother, had written entire journals about how, amazingly, Pandora's inhabitants went through something slightly different . It seemed that the entirety of the 'flora' and 'fauna' of Pandora was so interconnected, a prey knew whether it was time to run to live another day or give in and die, and predators also could sense whether or not a life should be spared once in a while. It was all to due with the balance of life, that Eywa so dutifully protected.

That didn't mean that the non-Na'vi dwellers of the planet did not feel fear or a basic strive for survival. Simply, that Eywa would sometimes intervene to give the two parties a way to reach an understanding.

Lo'ak was more than certain his human side was keeping him in a state of paralysis at that moment. But he didn't think that being intimate with his human better half was the sort of situation Eywa could give him insight on.

Nothing could have prepared him for this moment. He'd never even once considered the possibility that y/n reciprocated his feelings. Over the years he'd done his best to steer clear of any sort of... compromising thoughts he may have had of her — though he wasn't always successful.

Fortunately, she'd always seemed to prefer to wear significantly more clothes than Spider, but that had also left Lo'ak with a seemingly infinite number of questions.

"It's okay if you've changed your mind, Lo'ak..." y/n said softly, snapping him out of his reverie. She covered her chest and turned to look for her shirt again, suddenly feeling rather self conscious about the way she looked. She'd taken Lo'ak's silence and stillness as rejection.

The Na'vi quickly chased her lips for another kiss, whispering a thousand apologies to her in his native language. She was the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen. How could she not see it herself?

Lo'ak tentatively let one of his large hands leave y/n's cheek. It caressed her flushed neck, the dip of her shoulder until it finally came to cup the weight of her breast. Y/n could still feel him hesitate with every step, even shaking a little from how much he was afraid of hurting her. "Like this..." She guided Lo'ak's fingers, showing him all the different ways he could tease and tug at her nipple. "D-doesn't... doesn't that hurt?" Lo'ak attempted to recreate the motion on her other breast, now playing with both.

Y/n shook her head, desperately getting rid of the rest of her clothes so she could take care of the throbbing ache between her legs. Lo'ak had gotten surprisingly good at fondling her breasts in record time, and she wanted to show him exactly what he was doing to her. In between the middle of moaning his name and taking care of her aching cunt, she got a glimpse of the almost feral way he was staring down at her.

Lo'ak was drinking in every single detail of y/n's tiny body, dwarfed even more now that she was writhing in his lap. The second he saw her glistening pussy, an almost shameful wave of jealousy overcame him. He wanted to be the only one to ever see y/n that way, to get to pet her sweet little cunt. It was all his, and y/n could read it in his extremely dilated pupils.

"Everything okay, yawne?" Y/n panted sweetly, searching for another kiss. "You know I like it when you talk to me..." Lo'ak immediately showered her with more kisses, hating himself for stalling yet again. "No--yes... you just... you have a very pretty... syulang..." He said, his ears bending down in embarrassment. It took y/n a few beats to understand what Lo'ak meant by 'flower', and her cheeks felt quite warm at the realisation.

"I mean... all of you is... perfect. You're perfect." Lo'ak said with slightly more determination in his voice, hoisting y/n up in his arms so he could leave a kiss above where her heart was beating rapidly in her chest. She let out a keening sound when he took her left nipple in his mouth, still incredibly attent to being as gentle as he could. Y/n let him take his time exploring her, and Lo'ak worshipped her body until she was a trembling, moaning mess in his arms.

Y/n wanted to do the same. She wanted to run her hands over every single part of him. But it was kind of difficult when Lo'ak had her laid out on her back while he kissed and licked his way between her folds, seemingly unaware that he was going at a torturously slow place. Y/n begged and whined, but she was too far gone to even know what she was asking for anymore. Meanwhile, Lo'ak was completely intoxicated by her taste, keeping one of his large hands on her stomach so she wouldn't jump while he used his tongue to toy with her clit, always making sure to not as much as graze her with his teeth.

"Lo'ak, please..." Y/n let out a small sob, and Lo'ak looked up, sheepishly pulling away from the literal paradise he'd discovered between her thighs. "Did I hurt you?" He asked, but she furiously shook her head. "No... not that, yawne. Just, please... want to touch you..." It didn't matter that she'd been edged for so long, she suddenly didn't know how to ask Lo'ak to use his fingers. Or something more, which he wouldn't do anyway.

"But I like making you feel good..." Lo'ak didn't know how to say he'd been painfully hard and leaking just from eating her out, but now that y/n was sitting back up, there was no way she couldn't see his arousal. His loincloth was doing a rather poor job of hiding how much he wanted her. "I can't get enough of the way you taste..." He said in a shaky breath, cupping y/n's sex to feel the wetness there. She instinctively squeezed her thighs around his hand and he understood.

Lo'ak knew y/n used her fingers to play with herself, but his own were considerably larger and longer. How could she possibly take them inside of her? "Please, yawne, I need you..." She coaxed him to relax once again with her words, getting rid of the last clothes that were separating them. Y/n took in the sight of Lo'ak's large cock standing proudly, and curiously began to touch him with both hands.

Then sight of y/n's smaller hands tentatively trying to work his erection almost made Lo'ak go cross-eyed. "W-what are you..." He cursed, burying his head in y/n's neck when she began to play with his head, using her thumb to put the exact right amount of pressure as she teased the sensitive tip in quick circles.

Y/n bit her lip and giggled at the deep purring sound that came out of him. Almost as if to get back at her, Lo'ak slid one of his fingers deep inside of her, following the warm curves of her inner walls. Only when y/n let out a loud moan of relief, did he fully realise what he was doing. "Fuck, Lo'ak--" She reprimanded him softly for giving her no warning, but quickly began to rut herself down onto his digit, finding a rhythm at was good for her while squeezing down on the base of his shaft with both her hands. The pressure almost made Lo'ak see nothing but white.

What had he been so afraid of? The two of them were clearly attuned to each other's needs, and he never wanted to stop giving y/n pleasure like the one he could hear in her voice at that moment. Lo'ak began to curl his finger inside of y/n, before tentatively pumping it in and out of her while she held onto his neck for dear life.

It didn't take him long to understand where most of her pleasure was coming from, so he took matters into his own hands. Literally.

"N-no, no..." She whined when he took his finger out, but he kissed her, silently telling her not to worry. Lo'ak got them back in their original position, with him lying on his back and y/n sprawled out across his stomach. He ran his hand down her spine, and she lifted her hips up a little when she understood, letting him hook his fingers into her cunt from behind while he kept a firm grip on her ass.

Fingers. Because she was now taking two of them. And beautifully too, if Lo'ak had anything to say about it. He'd never seen her so completely lost in herself; and there she was now, giving in to the white heat of the fire he could feel inside of her. It was almost too much. Every desperate cry, every languid rotation of her hips, every scratch she left on his body, wanted to make him take y/n for himself. He wanted to see if she could sing just as beautifully while bouncing on his cock. But he knew exactly how dangerous those thoughts were.

He held y/n impossibly closer to him and pumped in a third finger along with the rest. Y/n's face contorted in something Lo'ak could not explain, but before he could stop himself, she was stilling in his arms. Her walls clamped down on his fingers, gushing around them. Y/n's body went as still as a rock as she tried to ground herself through her orgasm, suddenly feeling very cold and high on adrenaline at the same time. She needed Lo'ak to hold her tight.

The last thing she would have ever expected was for her lover to give out a horrified wail that she herself felt tear through his chest.

Y/n was bleeding. He'd made her bleed. "I hurt you." He panted, unable to look away from the blood on his fingers. "I knew it, I should never have-- "

"Yawne, calm down." Y/n tried to reassure him, touching his face gently. "I did not hurt me, I didn't even realize..."She sighed, feeling guilty for not having warned him sooner. "It's completely normal."

"Normal?" Lo'ak asked, bewildered. "You are bleeding." How could he have thought for a single second he could have trusted himself to hold y/n without causing her harm?

"It can happen sometimes to humans... more often than not during their first time... "She explained. "Something inside me just ripped, is all. It burns a little now, but you were making me feel so good I barely even felt the pain..." The thought of three of Lo'ak's fingers being more than enough to break her hymen made the possibility of taking his cock slightly more daunting than she'd previously imagined. But that didn't mean y/n no longer wanted him with every fiber of her being. "It won't happen again, if that makes you feel any better..."

Lo'ak pulled her close and kissed her. "You are so strong." He whispered, thinking about how lucky he was to have someone who had so willingly given themselves to him. Who trusted him with every part of their being. He hoisted y/n in his arms and took her to the bathroom, cleaning them both off with warm water and a soft towel. Even after all those years, he still remembered where everything was in her home.

As he did so, he knelt down in the small room that was clearly not built to accommodate someone of his stature and began to leave delicate kisses over y/n's mound and between her folds. It was his way of apologizing for the discomfort he'd caused her. "Are you trying to 'kiss it better'?" She giggled softly, running her hands through his braids. "Lo'ak, I promise you I'm okay..."

"Yes..." Lo'ak answered her question. "But I also just love kissing you here..." He admitted, looking up at y/n with nothing but reverence in his eyes.

It was hard to keep their hands off of each other for the rest of the night. Y/n desperately wanted to worship Lo'ak's body in the same way he'd done with her, and she wasn't going to rest until he finally let go and let someone else take care of him for once.

After a passionate make-out session against her bathroom sink, they'd stumbled back into the warmth of their bed and Lo'ak was once again aching for her. Y/n took in every single one of his reactions as her hands worked their magic over his cock: his grunts, his soft growls, his furrowed brow, and his hooded lids. Although nothing got to her quite in the same way as when he would bare his teeth, giving her a little glimpse of his sharp canines. Lo'ak was incredibly vulnerable at that moment, and he was all hers.

"Fuck, fuck y/n... " He unwillingly bucked his hips into her touch, almost throwing y/n off him by accident. "Oh shit--- sorry baby, come back here." Lo'ak reached for her and manhandled her back into his lap, unable to bite back a smile when she laughed a little. He enveloped himself around her completely, making sure the incident wouldn't happen a second time, as y/n brought him closer and closer to the edge.

Lo'ak exploded between them without much of a warning, surprising y/n with the heaviness of his load. She let out a soft moan as most of it painted her stomach, working Lo'ak's cock with her hand until he'd given her every last drop. The Na'vi was ready to apologize, embarrassed even in a state of afterglow, when he saw her bring her own finger to her lips to get a taste of his essence.

Lo'ak felt unable to breathe as he took in the debauched sight of y/n, her belly and lips covered with his seed while she looked up at him innocently.

It was going to be a long night.

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foreverisntenough · 1 month ago

Text

‘Act II’

Index

Warnings: This series is 18+ MDNI

Extra Warning! This chapter touches on Whitney's serious mental health struggles. It’s brief but dark so if that is at all potentially triggering to you please be advised and DNI. <3

Chapter 18 - 'Long Distance’ | ‘Act II’

word count - 11.2k

Winnie had just arrived in Madrid, buzzing with excitement about being there to see you and yeah, sure maybe for Jude’s match but lately boyfriends, fiance’s whomever's games weren’t all that exciting anymore, they’d lost their novelty. You headed straight to her hotel, practically skipping through the lobby to meet her. When you got to her room, she was already sprawled out on the bed, unpacking her things. You flopped down beside her, grinning from ear to ear, barely able to contain your giddiness.

“Alright,” she said, her voice full of mischief. “Spill. How’s this boy of yours doing?” Winnie gave you a knowing look, propping herself up on her elbows. “Still handsome? Almost your husband yet?” She giggled.

“Oh, gorgeous as ever. Definitely far from my husband though.” you laughed back, throwing her a playful glance. You leaned back into the pillows, your smile only growing wider. She rolled her eyes. You had gone to her hotel ahead of the match to gossip or as you two would call it ‘get ready.’

“Please, the way you talk about him, he might as well be! You live here now!” She teased. “I had to change time zones just to hang out with you. You and Whit have me racking up my fight miles. You two should give me a promo code to be your friend. You’ve both ditched me for all these English men. Surely, they can't’ be that good.” She smirked.

“I mean…” You laughed, nudging her with your elbow, a shrug, and a raised eyebrow. Winine did know in fact. She’d given a few of Trent’s friends a go. “Also, we didn't ditch you! I’m home all the time. Plus, you’re here, aren’t you?” Winnie shot you a sarcastic look but couldn’t hold back her own laughter.

“Yeah, yeah, sure. But still. You and Whit are so wrapped up in your men, I’m starting to think I need to find myself a British lad to keep up!” You both burst out laughing, the sound filling the room, the kind of giggles that come when you’re in the company of someone who knows you better than anyone. For the next hour, you spilled everything to her—the ups, the downs, the dreamy parts, the sluttier moments, and the messier bits of your life with Jude. You told her about the quiet nights in Madrid, the ridiculous inside jokes you shared with him, the sweet minutes, and the awkward ones too. The whole time, Winnie listened intently, throwing in jokes here and there, but you could see the warmth in her eyes, happy for you.

“So, let me get this straight,” Winnie said after you’d finished. “You’ve been living this fairy tale, in love with a footballer, dream life, and I’ve just been…there, back in New York, missing all the action without my two best friends?” You laughed, shaking your head.

“You’ve definitely been having your own fun.” You teased. She raised a brow, smirking knowing well she has had some fun. .

“Well, fine. But you’re still out here living with your superstar husband in Madrid.” She poked fun at you a bit more.

“He’s not my husband, Winnie.” You corrected her with some cheek.

“Yet.” She winked, and you burst into laughter again, your heart feeling full. Being with her like this, joking about everything, made you realize how much you missed the simplicity of your friendship, even if your life had shifted dramatically. But as you sat there, wrapped up in the warmth of the moment, you knew you didn’t want to trade it for the world. You both were lying on Winnie’s hotel bed, tangled in fits of giggles as you filled her in on the plans for the evening.

“So tonight, just the match…little night out after with their friends. I think you’ve met Jobe and then you’ll like the Real boys. They’re sweet” you said, excitement and nerves mixing together. You’d been looking forward to it for a bit. Just having a girlfriend back with you but there was always that undercurrent of tension when it came to these events with Jude, especially with all that had been on your mind lately. Winnie propped her head up on her hand, giving you a knowing look.

“Yeah, yeah, we’ll have a fucking night out, and then tomorrow morning when I’m hungover and met a sweet spanish boy I will fly off to England to see Whit and Teddy girl,” she said, her tone softening from cheek when she mentioned them. “I haven’t seen them in so long, I miss that chubby little girl… and Whit too.” She smiled. You smiled at the mention of Whitney and Teddy, but that smile faltered when you thought about the gallery event you had to attend soon, the one that would take you away from Madrid, leaving you to miss the match in England.

You know I have to be at the gallery so I’ll miss the match as well,” you confessed, sighing heavily. “It’s this big opening, I can’t miss but I don’t know, Win. I don’t know how long things can keep going like this.” You sighed. Articulating your fears aloud made them all the more real.

“I know. I’ll be back in time for it, probably straight from JFK but it’s okay. What makes you so worried? You and Jude are fine, you’ll sort it out. It’s just some travel.” Winnie sat up slightly, raising her brow. You shook your head, your smile fading.

“It’s more than that. I’m always flying back and forth. We keep missing these big moments. How long before it all just…falls apart? Like how many matches, how many openings, how many holidays before you start to question the whole thing.” Your bottom lip quivered. Winnie’s expression softened as she studied your face, seeing how much this was weighing on you. But she, being Winnie, always knew how to keep things light, even when the mood was heavy.

“Well, the flight here was great! He’s not exactly flying coach, is he?. And honestly, in addition to just how great you are… he’s getting sex out of this so really… he’s a lucky lad, all three of those things are wonderful,” she joked, nudging you playfully. You couldn’t help but giggle, but the laughter was tinged with sadness.

“I know, but…” you trailed off, your voice quieter now. “It just feels like…it might be doomed, you know? Like there’s no real way to fix it.” You mumbled. Winnie grabbed your hand, squeezing it.

“Hey, stop. It’s not doom. It’s just life. You and Jude…you’ll figure it out. Relationships are hard, yeah, but you love him, right?” She asked, knowing the answer.

“Of course, I do.” You nodded, biting your lip.

“Then that’s what matters,” she said firmly, her voice full of that sisterly wisdom. “Take it one step at a time. Tonight, enjoy the match, enjoy being with him. Stop worrying about all the ‘what ifs.’” You sighed, leaning back into the pillows, grateful to have Winnie there, but still feeling the weight of it all.

“I just don’t want to lose him,” you admitted, your voice small. “I don’t want to be this deep to lose it.” You frowned. Winnie smiled at you, soft and understanding.

“You won’t,” she said, confident. “Not if you keep being honest with each other. And hey, if it makes you feel better, at least you’re getting this weather versus New York shit right now and you’re getting sex with a pretty boy, it can’t be so bad, right?” she teased again, making you laugh despite yourself.

“Yeah,” you said with a small smile. “At least there’s that.” But deep down, the uncertainty still lingered, and as you got ready to leave for the match, you couldn’t shake the feeling that the future was more fragile than you wanted to admit. Moments later when you pulled the Bellingham kit over you and tucked it up into your bra to crop it. You inspected your toned torso in the mirror with a pout as you buttoned up your jeans. Winnie tilted her head back dramatically, laughing.

“What happened to my party girl? Who is this?” she teased, nudging you with her elbow. “Down so bad for a boy? You giggled, burying your face in your hands for a moment before looking back at her.

“I dont knowwww. I don’t know. Right? I’m just as surprised as you are,” you admitted, shaking your head in disbelief. “But…it’s different, Win. It’s so different with Jude.” you cooed. Finally buttoning the last one of your jeans.

“Different how?” She raised an eyebrow, leaning in with curiosity. You thought for a moment, the words forming slowly as you tried to put the feeling into words.

“I used to be so scared of being vulnerable. You know me—I was always the one keeping things light, never letting anyone get too close.” You paused, fidgeting with the edge of the bedspread now as you walked back over to her. “But with Jude…it’s like that vulnerability doesn’t make me feel weak. It makes me feel stronger. Like, being open with him makes me feel more protected, more myself than I ever thought I could feel. It reminds me of how you feel when you’re young like a naive bliss.” You cooed. Winnie listened intently, her playful smirk softening into a genuine smile.

“That sounds…kind of beautiful, actually,” she said, her teasing tone gone, replaced by something more sincere. She smiled. You let out a sigh, though it was followed by a small, nervous laugh.

“It is, I guess. But it’s also kind of scary, you know? It’s one thing to be vulnerable, but when all that trust is in someone else’s hands… It's terrifying. It’s like handing someone your heart and hoping they don’t drop it.” You cooed sadly.

“Listen to you! You sound like Whitney talking about T.” Winnie shook her head, grinning. You both laughed at that, and you ran a hand through your hair, still shaking your head in disbelief.

“I know, right? When did I become that girl?” You cooed confused but with a bit of enjoyment. Winnie gave you a soft shove.

“Hey, don’t knock it girlie. You sound happy. It makes me happy.” Winnie said.

“I am,” you said, your smile growing a little wider, more certain. “It’s just…new, you know? Trusting someone… Trusting Jude.” You sheepishly asked.

“I get it,” Winnie said, squeezing your hand. “But if anyone can handle it, it’s you. And Jude? He’s lucky to have you, party girl or not.”

As you walked hand in hand with Winnie through the bustling crowd at the Bernabéu, the energy was electric, every inch of the stadium buzzing with excitement. The final game of the season always brought out the most die-hard fans, and tonight, the sea of Bellingham jerseys seemed endless. A year ago, this sight would’ve made you feel smug, the thought that some of these women were here for the man you gotta go home with. But now, as Jude's girlfriend, that same sea of jerseys stirred something different—a twinge of jealousy you hadn’t expected. Winnie gave your hand a reassuring squeeze as you glanced around, noticing groups of girls whispering and pointing, no doubt hoping to catch a glimpse of the Real Madrid star or his inner circle. You could hear their giggles and murmurs, and though you tried to ignore them, it was hard not to feel a little protective, knowing Jude was the object of their affection.

“Hey… who is this person?” She felt your energy shift. “Y/N… Don’t let them get in your head,” Winnie said softly, leaning close so only you could hear. “You’re his one. They’ll know it eventually. When you guys want.” She smirked. Winnie had been inquiring about your relationship being public earlier. You said you hadn’t really thought about a launch. Which was sort of true so you just smiled gratefully at her, appreciating her unwavering support.

“I know,” you murmured, though the flutter of nerves didn’t quite settle. Winnie’s presence was a comfort, but you still felt that underlying tension— seeing Jude’s family and friends tonight added an extra layer of pressure, especially with all eyes on you. As you finally reached the box, Denise greeted you with her warm, welcoming smile. She gave you a quick hug, and you could tell she was happy to have you there. Standing just behind her, however, was Jude’s brother Jobe, who smiled a bit shyly and a bit slyly. You’d met him briefly before in Greece, but tonight was different. It wasn’t just a casual family gathering; you were stepping into Jude’s world in a much more public way. Winnie, as always, brought her usual infectious energy, waving at Jobe and immediately breaking the ice with everyone. It helped lighten the mood, and soon enough, you felt yourself relaxing into the group, even though the nerves hadn’t completely left you. But as you stood there and scanned the stadium, your gaze fell back on the crowd of girls below, you felt like many of them dressed to impress, hoping to catch a player’s attention. They were wearing his jersey with pride, their faces filled with admiration, and while you understood their love for him as a player, a part of you couldn't help but feel territorial.

"Girl, stop. They wish they were you," she teased, flashing you a knowing smile. "But they’re not, and they’ll never be." Whitney leaned over, sensing where your thoughts had drifted. You chuckled softly, but the truth was, being Jude's girlfriend came with a lot more than just the title. You feared officially entering this uncharted territory. One where you felt so apprehensive, so nervous. One you’d heard about from Whitney filled with the constant scrutiny, the attention, and the understanding that every game wasn’t just about football—it was about navigating the world that came with being tied to someone so famous. As the match was about to begin, you found yourself watching Jude on the field, his focus sharp, his movements effortless. He was brilliant, and it was impossible not to be proud of him. But tonight, standing alongside his family and friends, surrounded by all these women who him from afar, the reality of it all hit you. You weren’t just dating any man—you were dating *Jude Bellingham*. And while you knew he was yours in every way that mattered, there was no denying the subtle weight that came with being by his side in the spotlight. When Jobe’ greeted you his hug lingered a moment longer, his embrace comforting in the way only a sibling’s could be. When he pulled back, his wide grin made it impossible not to smile in return, and you felt an immediate wave of relief. You had been apprehensive about seeing Jude’s younger brother, about how Jude’s friends and family would see you, but Jobe’s warmth quickly erased those worries.

“Haven’t seen you since Greece, you look good,” he teased, his tone light. “But I feel like I see you all the time.”

“Yeah?” you asked, confused but curious. Jobe’s grin widened mischievously.

“Well, I’m not the one telling you….don’t tell Jude I said anything, but… since you guys started dating, it’s like he can’t stop talking about you. Every day, it’s another photo, another update.” Jobe smirked.

“He sends your family photos of me?” Your heart fluttered.

“All the time,” Jobe nodded, trying to suppress a laugh. “It’s like, every other day in the family chat. There’s always a picture from dinner—he sends them across the table when you aren’t looking. Then there were photos of your gallery; he was really proud of those. And there was a ton from the Grand Palais—he sent it the day he was going to ask you to be his girlfriend, asking us if it looked good enough as they got it set up.” Jobe smirked, loving the opportunity to expose Jude. Your cheeks flushed as you processed what Jobe was telling you. Jude had shared all these intimate moments with his family, the moments you hadn’t even known were so significant to him, you assumed he cared but to know he had shared them with his parents, with Jobe openly. You could feel the flutter of butterflies in your stomach, realizing just how much you meant to him.

“The Grand Palais?” you murmured, still in disbelief. “He sent that?” Jobe nodded enthusiastically, clearly amused by your reaction.

“Yep, he was stressing out about everything being perfect. Even sent us a picture of that shit painting he made with you. He wanted to make sure it was good enough.” Jobe dramatically and facetiously pouted, making fun of Jude’s behavior. Your breath caught as you remembered the painting he’d done at your chateau, the care Jude had taken with it, the thoughtfulness behind every brushstroke. It had meant so much to you at the time he was even trying but now, knowing he’d been so nervous about it, about asking you to be his girlfriend—it made your heart swell even more.

“I didn’t realize…” you began, your voice soft, feeling suddenly overwhelmed by the depth of Jude’s affection.

“Yeah, so maybe the girls in section 102 might not know your name but…” Winnie cooed. “I think the people who do are the ones that matter.” She giggled while finally hugging Jobe hello.

“Yeah, Y/N, our family definitely knows. He doesn’t shut up.” Jobe said, his tone shifting to something more serious. His words struck you deeply. The image of the girls in the stadium, all wearing Bellingham jerseys, their adoration for Jude evident, had momentarily made you feel invisible. But now, hearing how much you meant to his family, that Jude had been showing you off to them in a way more personal than any public declaration—it made you realize that those other people didn’t matter. What mattered was how deeply you were cared for, how loved you were by the people that meant the most to Jude.

“Thanks, Jobe,” you said quietly, feeling the weight of his words sink in. “I didn’t know he was sharing all of that with you lot.” You told him. Jobe chuckled, nudging you again.

“Yeah, he’s obsessed. But honestly, we’re glad you’re with him. Even if it means he’s clogging up the group chat with photos of you.” Jobe teased. You laughed, the sound bubbling out of you before you could stop it. Jobe’s teasing felt like an unspoken seal of approval, and that meant more than anything. There was something about being accepted by Jude’s family that made the whole relationship feel more real, more secure.

“So, I’m the reason for the constant notifications?” you joked, trying to wrap your head around the idea of Jude sending photos of you to his family.

“Pretty much,” Jobe smirked. “But hey, at least they’re good photos. You’ve got him all soft, you know. He’s never been like this with anyone.” Your heart did a little flip at his words. Jude had always been sweet with you, always shown you his affection, but to hear it from Jobe, to know that even his brother could see how much he cared—it was everything.

“Really?” you asked, your voice quieter now, the gravity of what Jobe was saying sinking in.

“Really,” Jobe confirmed. “He’s mad about you. A right melt.” He laughed. You felt a warmth spread through your chest, a deep, undeniable sense of love and belonging. The girls in the stadium, with their jerseys and their signs, didn’t have anything on what you shared with Jude. You might not be plastered all over the tabloids, but you were woven into his life in ways that really mattered—in the family group chat, in his moments of vulnerability, in the small, private snapshots he sent when he thought no one was watching.

“So, really don’t worry about things. Don’t need to. Embarrassingly, Jude’s all yours. And we all know it.” Jobe’s voice broke through your thoughts. You smiled at him, feeling lighter than you had in days. “Now c’mon, got to find mum. I think she’s already started the pre-game nerves.” He grinned, slinging an arm around your shoulder in that casual, brotherly way You laughed, falling into step with him as you both made your way through the stadium. As you walked, you couldn’t help but glance at the sea of jerseys again, but this time, it didn’t bother you as much. You felt maybe you had something more—something real, something lasting. The energy in the stadium was electric, but despite the excitement of the game on going, you couldn’t shake the weight sitting in your chest. It should’ve dissipated when Jobe told you those things about Jude. Instead you stood anxiously in the box with Denise and Winnie as the match stood stuck in a stalemate. Jobe was sat with a few of he and Jude’s hometown friends. A group of boys that were visiting. They were tight enough to be up here but not close enough to be going out with you later or staying at the house. As they were watching the match unfold, they were talking shit and unfortunately you heard more than you cared for but they got bolder when Jobe stepped away for a moment. As the match went on, Jobe joining you and his mum, the comments from Jude’s hometown friends continued to gnaw at you. They were louder now, more confident as they joked amongst themselves.

“Can’t believe he’s cuffed now,” one of them said with a chuckle, looking at you between quick glances sideways.

“Yeah, I thought Jude wouldn’t settle till he came back home. Bet he’s not gonna last with her though. He can’t be serious,” another added, laughing as if you weren’t standing right there, your stomach twisting with every word.

“Maybe it’s an image thing. Think they met through TAA.” One quipped. You kept your eyes on the field, trying to block it out, but the insecurity settled deep in your chest. Were you just some fleeting thing in Jude’s life? It was like what Jobe just said dissipated. Surely, Jude couldn’t be that devious. Just another girl he could casually show off for a season or two before moving on? The thought haunted you, and it was impossible to shake.

“Is she really his girl, or is she just another one?” one of them whispered, glancing at you with skeptical eyes.

“Maybe she’s just the end-of-year trophy,” another joked under his breath. It stung more than you wanted to admit. It wasn’t really about you specifically, it could've been about any girl, but that was the problem. You had been with Jude for a while now, and though things were progressing, there were still moments when you felt unsure of your place in his world. The casual teasing from the boys wasn’t anything malicious, just the usual banter they probably shared amongst themselves, but it felt like a direct attack on your insecurities. They had no idea you could hear them. Jobe had clarified when they first asked, casually confirming that you were, indeed, Jude’s girlfriend, but that didn’t stop their snide remarks. You wanted to brush it off, but it was hard when those doubts already lingered in your own mind. Was this all it was to them? Was that what Jude and Jobe’s ‘friends’ saw when they looked at you—someone temporary, disposable? You tried to focus on the match, but your thoughts kept circling back to another time you were at one of Jude’s games, and he had dismissed you in front of everyone. That memory haunted you. Now, you were standing there, waiting for him to come up after the match, terrified of how he’d act. Would it be the same? Would he brush you off like you didn’t matter? Every minute felt like an eternity as you stood near the entrance to the box, eyes glancing toward the door, waiting for Jude to come up after the final whistle blew. The crowd had begun to thin out, and Denise and Winnie were still in good spirits, chatting away post victory, but you felt like you were on edge, balancing on a fine line between calm and panic. When you finally saw Jud cutting through the crowd, your heart raced, a wave of anxiety crashing over you. He was in his joggers, his face glowy from the post game. Your hands clenched at your sides, and for a brief moment, all the worst-case scenarios flashed through your mind. You remembered the way he had casually dismissed you as a friend, and it terrified you to think that it might happen again, especially after what you had overheard. Jude’s eyes scanned the entire box, and when they landed on you, your breath caught in your throat. Would he be distant? Cold? But then, a smile spread across his face, genuine and warm. He jogged over to you tiredly but with a happiness behind his eyes, his arms opening wide as he pulled you into a tight hug, burying his face in your hair.

“My angel. Mmmmm” He hummed. “Hi baby,” he murmured into your ear, and just like that, the tension in your body started to melt away. You wrapped your arms around him, clinging to him a little tighter than you normally would. He didn’t pull away. Instead, he kissed your temple softly, and in that moment, it didn’t matter what his friends thought. It didn’t matter that they had made jokes or questioned your relationship. Jude was here, and he was making it clear that you weren’t just some passing fling. But even as his affection calmed some of your fears, you couldn’t help but feel that nagging insecurity. Getting deeper into this relationship with Jude meant that your emotions were more vulnerable than ever, and you wondered if you’d always feel this way—wondering if you were enough, if you were truly seen. It was the first time in your life you really questioned if you were enough for someone. He cupped your face and moved you to give him a kiss, a real kiss. And though his face had lit up at the sight of you, and he kissed you sweetly. His lips were soft and familiar, but instead of the usual warmth that flooded your body, you felt a strange hollowness. It wasn’t enough. You weren’t sure why—it was Jude, the man you loved, but it felt like something was missing. How many times had he done this? How many girls had stood in your place before, waiting for him after a game, only for it to eventually fizzle out? How many friends had been there long before and long after these relationships. You wanted to feel secure in his arms, but all you could hear were his friends’ snide comments, their laughter echoing in your head.Jude pulled back from the kiss, his eyes scanning your face with concern. “Angel, what’s up with you?” he asked softly, sensing your hesitation.

“No, nothing.” You shook your head, forcing a smile. He frowned, not buying it.

“Please talk to me,” he urged, his voice gentle but insistent. You didn’t want to—didn’t want to voice the swirling thoughts in your mind. But he wasn’t letting it go. “Come on, baby. Talk to me,” he pressed again, his hand resting on your waist as if trying to anchor you. You hesitated, your chest tightening. Then, almost without meaning to, the words slipped out.

“Are you really sure?” you asked, your voice small. “Are you really sure you want me when you have all of this?” You nodded outwards.

“What do you mean?” His brow furrowed, clearly confused. You gestured again vaguely to the room, to the crowd, to the friends and the girls in Bellingham jerseys who were still lingering around.

“All of this… all these people, all these options. Why would you want me when you have everything?” You muttered. If you told yourself that you would be asking a boy if you were enough from him before you met Jude you would’ve laughed in your own face. You would’ve shook yourself by the shoulders and told yourself to get it together. But the way Jude’s face softened, and without missing a beat, he cupped your face in his hands reminding you that things had changed. You had changed.

“All of this is nothing… Don’t want it if I don’t have you. Game’s not nearly as fun if I don’t get to see you after. Dedicating goals to you, angel. You’ve changed the game for me.” His words were firm, unwavering. But before you could respond, he took your hand and, without a second thought, turned and led you out of the room. You barely had time to process what was happening as you left the box’s lounge, leaving everyone behind. The suddenness of it caught you off guard, but he didn’t stop until you were both in the quiet of a hallway, away from prying eyes. Jude led you out from the lounge, past the stands, down the halls and onto the pitch. You hadn't expected him to keep going, but before you knew it, you were walking across the hallowed turf of the Bernabéu. The stadium was massive-empty now, but the weight of its size pressed in on you. It was surreal. You were standing at the center of the pitch where history was made, where Jude played his heart out in front of thousands upon thousands and millions on tv. Your eyes were wide, taking in the vastness of it all.

"This place is huge, oh my God..." You almost gasped but Jude wasn't letting you finish.

"Kiss me," he said, his voice low but insistent, pulling your attention back to him.

"What?" you asked, giggling nervously.

"Kiss me," he repeated. His gaze was steady, unwavering. "If you want to know that I'm serious about us, kiss me. Right here." You blinked, caught off guard by the intensity of his words.

"No," you teased with a playful smile. "You kiss me." You taunted. Before you could say anything else, Jude grinned and silenced you with a kiss. His lips met yours with a hunger that sent a spark through you, making the enormous stadium feel like it was just the two of you. His arms wrapped tightly around your waist, pulling you closer as the kiss deepened. Your body melted into his, the world around you disappearing for that moment. When you finally pulled away, you couldn't help but laugh, a little breathless, filled with disbelief. You were standing in the middle of the Bernabéu, making out with Jude as if it was the most normal thing in the world. The absurdity of it hit you all at once. Then, from above, you heard loud booing echo across the field. You looked up and saw Jobe, Toby, and Winnie standing in one of the boxes, playfully jeering at you both. You laughed, burying your face in Jude's chest as he chuckled along, his arms still wrapped around you.

"Ignore them," Jude said, holding you tighter. He looked down at you with a playful glint in his eyes. "I'd kiss you in front of this place packed full if you'd let me." You raised an eyebrow. smirking.

"Oh, yeah?" you teased with some mocking. He nodded, his cheeky smirk making your heart race.

"I would've done it when the crowd was still here," he said, his tone teasing. "But, y'know, I was kinda busy... in the middle of a match and all. I had the game winner, slightly occupied but…"

You couldn't help but laugh again, shaking your head as you wrapped your arms around his neck. Jude leaned down, pressing another kiss to your lips, softer this time, as if to tell you without words that no one else mattered — just you.

And after your makeout at the center of the pitch the night turned to be one for the books—full of laughter, drinks, and carefree fun. You, Winnie, Toby, Jobe, and their friends went out in Madrid, the energy light and joyful, everyone basking in the post-match glow. You found yourself taking shots with Aurélien. Winnie watched relieved to see your mood shift from tense to carefree.

“Looks like you haven’t taken the party girl out of her yet!” She teased Jude pinching his arm. You laughed, feeling lighter, like everything was just as it should be, with the music thrumming through your body, the night full of possibility. But then Jude was right by your side, and in the heat of the night, you two couldn’t help yourselves. Your lips met, and suddenly, you were kissing like you were the only two people in the room. The music faded into the background, and for a moment, it felt like nothing else mattered. But of course, your moment was interrupted by a chorus of groans from Jobe, Toby, and Winnie, and co.

“Booo! Get a room!” Jobe called out with a teasing grin.

“Grossier.” Aurelien added with a laugh. .

“I did not fly across time zones to third-wheel this!” Even Winnie joined in, mockingly covering her eyes. You pulled away from Jude with a laugh, feeling the high of the night, the warmth of his arms still around you, and the carefree joy of being surrounded by friends. It felt like you were living in a bubble of happiness, everything and everyone in sync, no worries about the future. But the next morning shattered that illusion.You woke up with a hangover, but it wasn’t just the physical pain in your head that hurt—it was the sinking realization that today, you had to say goodbye to Jude. The high from the night before was gone, replaced by a heavy feeling in your chest. It was like a slap in the face, a punch in the stomach, the reality of your situation crashing down all at once.

You had to leave. Jude had to stay. And the uncertainty of when you’d see each other again gnawed at you, making every moment feel that much more bittersweet. The morning you were to leave Madrid felt like the longest, yet the shortest. The hours slipped away, and before you knew it, you were staring at your open luggage, dreading the final moment when you’d have to zip it shut. Jude sat on the floor beside you, silent, arms around your waist as if he could anchor you here with him. The weight of his embrace, usually so comforting, felt unbearably heavy today. Every few minutes, Jude whispered, ‘I love you.’ His voice was soft, as if saying it aloud might keep the inevitable at bay. You wanted to say it back every time, but your throat was tight with emotion, and all you could do was nod and try to focus on folding the last of your clothes. The silence between you wasn’t peaceful—it was thick, oppressive, like both of you were holding your breath, afraid that speaking too much would shatter the fragile moment you had left. When you finally closed your suitcase, you realized you had packed away the sweatshirt you wanted to keep in your carry-on for the plane. A small inconvenience, but in that moment, it felt like too much. You sighed, defeated, and before you could even ask, Jude was already pulling off his own jumper, offering it to you.

“You’ll just take mine, angel” he said quietly, his eyes searching yours. You took it from him, holding it close to your chest, and the familiar scent of him—something you hadn’t even realized you’d grown so accustomed to—hit you all at once. It was like a punch to the gut, and suddenly, everything came crashing down. The dam broke, and tears welled up in your eyes before you could stop them. Jude didn’t hesitate. He reached for you, pulling you into a hug so tight it was as if he was trying to fuse you to him, like maybe if he held you close enough, you wouldn’t have to leave. His arms were secure around you, but there was a sadness in the way he held you, a desperate need to make this moment last. You buried your face in his chest, feeling the sobs rising up in your throat, trying to muffle them as you cried into him.

“I don’t want to be apart,” you whispered, your voice breaking. Jude’s breath hitched against your hair, and you felt him tighten his grip on you, his own emotions barely under control.

“I know,” he breathed, his voice rough, thick with his own unshed tears. “ I know… I….I said I’d be strong for you, for us and I will be, but…” He pulled back just enough to cup your face in his hands, his thumbs gently wiping away your tears, though his own eyes were wet now, too. “I don’t want you to go. I love you too much. This hurts too much… bening apart” Hearing those words—seeing the pain in his eyes—made your heart twist painfully in your chest. You had always known long distance would be difficult, but this felt like so much more. It wasn’t just about the physical distance, it was the emotional chasm it threatened to create. The thought of being apart from him, of not waking up beside him, not sharing the mundane moments of life, felt unbearable. You leaned into his touch, your forehead resting against his.

“I know,” you whispered back, your voice trembling. “I don’t want to go either. I’m sorry.” You apologized and for a brief moment you weren’t sure why. For a moment, the two of you just stayed like that, foreheads pressed together, sharing the same breath, as if that could keep you connected even after you left. Jude’s hands slid down your arms, pulling you into his lap, and you curled into him, feeling the steady beat of his heart against your own. It was in perfect sync, like the two of you had always been. But that made it even harder. How could you leave when everything felt so right? When every fiber of your being was telling you to stay, to fight against the pull of time and distance? You clung to him, your tears soaking into his shirt. “Why does it have to be this hard?” you whispered, more to yourself than to him.

“Because I care so much, we care so much,” he said softly. “Because this matters.” Jude pressed a kiss to the top of your head, his lips lingering there as he tried to find the right words. The room was too quiet now, the ticking of the clock on the wall a cruel reminder that time was slipping away. You could feel the weight of the goodbye pressing down on you, heavy and suffocating. Jude’s hands ran through your hair, slow and deliberate, as if memorizing the feel of you one last time before he had to let go. You pulled away slightly, wiping at your eyes, though the tears wouldn’t stop.

“I’m going to miss you so much,” you choked out, your voice breaking again. Jude’s own tears were finally falling, despite how hard he had been trying to hold them back. He looked at you with a sadness that broke your heart all over again.

“I’m going to miss you more,” he whispered. “Every second.” He kissed you then, gently, tenderly, as if trying to pour all of his feelings into that one moment. His lips were soft against yours, and for a second, it was as if the world stopped spinning, like time itself paused just for the two of you. But it was fleeting, and when you pulled away, reality crashed back down around you. There was nothing left to do but say goodbye. No matter how much you wished you could stay, the world outside of this moment was waiting. Long distance wasn’t just a part of your relationship anymore—it was a reality you had to face, whether you were ready or not.

When you left Jude’s house in Madrid, you were holding back tears, trying to be strong as he walked you to the door. He had offered to come with you to the airport, but you knew it would only make things harder.

“Text me when you’re there, yeah?” Jude said softly, his hand resting on the small of your back as he leaned down to kiss you one last time.

“I will,” you whispered, your voice shaky. You could feel the weight of the impending distance between you, already missing him even though you hadn’t even left yet. Just as you stepped out, Jobe’s voice echoed from the living room.

“Text me too!” he yelled, teasing as always, trying to lighten the mood. You both chuckled, but Jude’s laugh was bittersweet. His heart wasn’t in it, and you could see the sadness in his eyes. As you drove away, Jude stood at the doorway, hands shoved deep into his pockets, watching the car pull out of the driveway. He lingered there for a moment before returning inside. He collapsed onto the couch beside Jobe, forcing a smile, but the silence between them was telling. After a while, Jude reached for his phone, pulling up a message thread. Denise came into the room not long after, a concerned look on her face.

“Has she made it to the airport yet?” she asked, glancing between the boys.

“We need Y/N actually in the family group chat to keep tabs on her.” Jobe, ever the joker, chimed in. Jude grinned, but an idea sparked in his mind. Without hesitating, he created a group chat with all of his family members and, at the last second, added your number too. He sat there for a moment, staring at the screen, before typing…

‘Bellingham's checking in to make sure you’re all set.’

When your phone pinged with the message, you were sitting at the airport gate, trying to compose yourself for the flight. Seeing the notification light up your screen, your heart squeezed at the message. It wasn’t just a casual check-in—it was an inclusion, a subtle way of letting you know you were now part of them, of the Bellingham family. And even though it was just a text, it felt like more than that.Your heart ached, and you typed back a response…

‘Sadly taking off in a few. Thanks for having me. See you all soon xx.’

Almost immediately, your phone vibrated again, but this time it was from Jude’s number.

‘Hope you don’t mind, angel. You being a part of the chat felt right. They miss you already, but couldn’t possibly as much as I do.’

You smiled, but tears pricked at your eyes. You stared at the screen for a moment before typing back,

‘About time I was added! xx' 'Miss you too, more than I can say.’

As the plane taxied down the runway, your thoughts lingered on the warmth of his family, the connection you felt—not just with Jude, but with all of them. Being welcomed into their circle, however informally, made the impending distance feel less daunting. But nothing could quite fill the ache of being away from Jude.

The gallery opening felt like a disaster waiting to happen. Every small detail seemed wrong, and nothing felt like it was coming together. Every day since you left felt disastrous. You’d paced your apartment for hours, rifling through your wardrobe, tossing dresses and outfits onto the bed, convinced nothing looked right. Even your apartment in New York felt stale, disconnected from the life you’d been living with Jude, as if the distance between you both had grown with each day since you left Madrid. You slumped against the closet door, still half-dressed, feeling a sense of frustration bubbling up inside. A sharp knock at the door startled you. With a sigh, you padded barefoot to the door, swinging it open to find a delivery man standing there, a massive bouquet of flowers in his hands. The scent hit you immediately—vibrant, fresh, and full of life. It felt like someone had swung open a window, letting fresh air into your dull space.

“Delivery for Y/N L/N,” the man said with a smile, handing over the bouquet. Your breath hitched as you took the flowers, realizing instantly who they were from. You placed them on the counter, your fingers quickly reaching for the small card nestled within the petals.

“Sorry I can’t be there tonight, Angel. So proud of you. Love you always xx Judey.”

A smile tugged at the corners of your lips. You knew it was meant to be playful. The fact that he signed it Judey a nickname he loathed but occasionally would let slide if you said it. A subtle reminder that he was always there, even when he couldn’t physically be by your side. His thoughtfulness, his support—it was a lifeline you hadn’t realized you needed today. You stared at the flowers for a moment, feeling the tension slowly melting away. You had tucked back into your wardrobe to continue on your mission when Winnie barged into your apartment, all business and energy, having flown back to the city for her own work, she had a pit stop in England to see her niece and even though she might’ve missed the England game, she was determined to make it to your show. Her eyes immediately fell on the extravagant bouquet, and she let out an exaggerated pout.

“Ughhh, Judeeyyyy,” she sighed dramatically, plucking the card from the flowers. “He’s so sweet it actually hurts.” You heard her overzealousness and you laughed softly as you stepped out from your wardrobe, half-dressed and still frazzled.

“He’s very sweet and very far away,” you said with a smile, shaking your head with a frown. You spun around to show her the undone zipper of your black asymmetrical mini dress for her to help with.

“Got yourself a good one.” Winnie gave you a teasing smirk, waving the card before she helped. “You and Whit bagged two bestie teammates just leaving me out to dry here.” She joked. It was lighthearted, you both knew that, Winnie currently had her own lovelife saga playing out. You chuckled, but your heart felt lighter, the weight of the day lessened by the presence of Jude’s flowers and Winnie’s unrelenting support. You stood there for a moment, taking in the warmth that came with their love and friendship, realizing that maybe everything wasn’t as chaotic as it seemed. The days leading to the opening to it had been spent scrambling, catching up on everything you had left behind while you were away. The weeks spent working from your laptop were not enough. New York had its pace, and after being gone for so long, it felt like you were out of sync with the city’s rhythm. You barely had time to breathe between finalizing the last touches, overseeing installations, and fielding endless calls from the gallery team. It was all a blur. The actual gallery opening was a whirlwind of frantic activity. And then, in the midst of the chaos of the opening, you heard the familiar hum of the door. You turned, half-expecting another guest or buyer to bombard you with questions, but instead, you were greeted with a smile that made you pause. Louis stood in the doorway, a calm presence in the storm of your evening. His smile was warm, comforting, his toothy grin that reminded you so much of your father. He had RSVPed, of course, but in the frenzy of preparing for the opening, you had completely forgotten. For a moment, you were just happy to see him, your shoulders relaxing ever so slightly.But then, you noticed the figure standing beside him. Gabriel. In truth, Gabriel just happened to be in town, this wasn’t meant to be like a swindling but the sight of him knocked the air from your lungs. You hadn’t expected this. Not tonight. Not ever, really. It had been ages since you had seen him, and in all the chaos of your life recently—your relationship with Jude, the long-distance struggle, your art—you had pushed Gabriel from your mind since Louis used him as a reference point of who’d be better suited for you at the chateau. Yet here he was, standing beside your brother, looking just like he did when you last saw him. That old, familiar pull of history, the memories you’d long since buried, resurfaced in an instant. Your brother, oblivious to the sudden tension tightening in your chest, almost forgetting his suggestion to you in France, walked toward you, his arms outstretched for a hug. You smiled, though it felt tight, your eyes flickering from him to Gabriel as they approached.

“Ouah, you didn’t think I’d miss tonight ma cherie, did you?” your brother said, his voice teasing as he embraced you. But your gaze remained locked on Gabriel, who stood back a little, waiting, watching.

“Non, bien sûr que non” [no, of course not] you managed to reply, forcing your attention back to your brother, hugging him tightly, trying to ignore the weight of Gabriel’s presence just steps away. But when your brother pulled back, Gabriel stepped forward. His eyes met yours, and for a moment, you were frozen, caught in a time warp where the past and present collided. You couldn’t tell if the feeling in your stomach was nervousness or something deeper, something unresolved.

“Salut,” Gabriel said, his voice soft, a stark contrast to the loud buzz of the gallery around you. You swallowed, trying to steady yourself. It wasn’t that anything happened between you two, fine, maybe a messy make out at a cotillon, but then you grew up, he ventured more in a straight edged life and judged you for your own path but there was something bizarre that lingered. Maybe it was the intersection of your two families, it was more the idea of you two. Let’s just say Louis wasn’t the first person to suggest the pairing.

“Hi, hi, thank you so much for coming” you replied, your voice barely above a whisper. The room felt too small, the noise too loud, and the world seemed to close in around the two of you. “c'est bon de te voir.” [it's good to see you.] Your brother, sensing none of this, launched into conversation, but you could barely focus. All you could feel was the weight of Gabriel’s eyes on you, his presence pulling at something you thought you’d left behind, like your youth or a possible path you could’ve taken in your life. If you were with someone like Gabriel… he’d be here supporting you. This night, this gallery, wasn’t intended to be so reflective of your life ahead. It was about celebrating your present, your art. And now, the past had come back to stand right in front of you.

The night had stretched far beyond what you anticipated. The room, with its artfully arranged displays and soft lighting, blurred around you as the champagne coursed through your system, leaving you slightly tipsy and far too loose in conversation. You found yourself in a tucked-away corner of the gallery, speaking to Gabriel, of all people. You hadn’t intended to spend so much time with him, but once he’d started talking about his mum, the familiar empathy you had for him pulled you in. It wasn’t about you and him—not anymore. There was solace between you two, you thought, like you knew what could’ve been, but you didn’t want that—not anymore. You could tell he was struggling at the party, and maybe, in some subconscious way, you wanted to help. But then again, the champagne made everything feel softer, easier, even this reunion you hadn’t expected. As the conversation deepened, you caught sight of Louis moving through the crowd. His expression was unreadable, a quiet calm masking something far more intense. You didn’t think much of it at first, but then you saw his stride quicken as he made his way toward you and Gabriel. Without a word, Louis slid beside you, draping his arm around your shoulder in a way that only a brother could—protective, almost territorial.

“So, what time’s the kick-off for Jude’s match tomorrow? ”His voice was light, casual, but the undertone was sharp as he asked you. At the mention of Jude’s name, a soft smile tugged at your lips. You couldn’t help it. Even across an ocean, he was still the center of your world, the one person who grounded you amidst all the chaos. But Gabriel… Gabriel hadn’t expected that. He misread the entire situation, and you could see it in the way his posture stiffened, in the way his eyes darkened with confusion. Louis had seen it too, and that’s why he was here.

“Pourquoi? Why are you asking?” you replied, slightly amused, but still a little tipsy, playing along with Louis’s sudden curiosity.

"Oh, je fais juste en sorte que tout le monde ici sache que Jude est ton petit-ami.” [Oh, just making sure everyone here knows that Jude is your boyfriend.] Louis’s voice became more deliberate as he emphasized, almost too casually. He lingered on the word, each syllable dripping with purpose as his eyes flickered to Gabriel.Gabriel blinked, caught off guard, and quickly excused himself. He mumbled something about needing to speak with someone else, but the message was clear: he didn’t like the mention of Jude, and the awkward tension of the moment was enough to make him retreat. Gabriel stepped away feeling like he’d officially lost a battle he hadn’t even known he was in. And the moment Gabriel was out of earshot, you spun toward Louis, incredulous.

“What the fuck was that?” you hissed, not sure whether to laugh or be angry. Louis looked down at you, his brow furrowed.

“Quoi? I didn’t do anything wrong. You were flirting with him.” He explained like it was incredibly obvious. You threw your hands up, exasperated.

“Flirting? With Gabriel? Louis, come on, you know me better than that. I wasn’t flirting—I was just talking to him.” Your voice softened, a mix of frustration and confusion. “And why do you even care?” He crossed his arms, his defensiveness rising.

“Because he’s a twat. He’s not good for you. Jude’s good for you.” Your heart sank at the mention of Jude again, this time not in a happy way, but in the way that reminded you of the ache of missing him. You stared at Louis, searching for an explanation, and after a moment, his expression softened. With a sigh, Louis became sentimental.

“Look, I haven’t seen you this happy in years. Not since grand-mère was alive.” His voice broke slightly, and you could see the sincerity behind his tough exterior. “You’re at peace with Jude. You’re happy in a way you haven’t been in so long, and I…I just don’t want you messing around with someone like Gabriel and forgetting what you have.” The words hit you like a wave, and suddenly, everything felt heavier. You were silent for a moment, caught between understanding and frustration. Louis pulled you into a hug, and you could feel the guilt in his embrace. “I’m sorry Jude’s not here tonight,” he murmured. “But, for what it’s worth, I kind of wish he was. At least then I’d have someone more interesting to hang out with than Gabriel.” Louis smirked. You couldn’t help but laugh at that, though it was bittersweet. You pulled back, looking at your brother with a mixture of affection and exasperation.

“C’est impossible.” [You’re impossible.] You whined through a giggle. Getting Louis’ approval was everything you didn’t know you needed.

“Yeah, well, so are you,” he teased, his smile returning. But you both knew the underlying truth—that Jude wasn’t there, and his absence made everything feel just a little bit off. The night had gone as well as you could have hoped.

The gallery opening was a success, and despite the exhaustion that followed, you went to sleep with a quiet sense of accomplishment. But even in the midst of your personal victory, you missed Jude. It was like an ache just beneath the surface, a longing that tugged at you no matter how proud you were of yourself. When morning light peeked through your curtains, the first thing you did was reach for your phone. Groggy but smiling, you called Jude. His face appeared on the screen, already awake, with that familiar cheeky smirk that always sent butterflies through you. He looked like he was up to something, and you immediately felt a flutter of curiosity mixed with nerves.

“What’s going on with you?” you asked, squinting at the screen, your voice still thick with sleep. He leaned back a little, tilting his head to the side as if showing you something just out of view.

“Angel,” he said in that teasing tone that made your heart skip. “What do you think?” Your eyes widened, taking in the sight of a fresh, small tattoo on his skin—a delicate pair of angel wings, thin and simple, just barely etched into his tanned skin. You blinked, disbelief flooding you.

“Are you fucking nuts?!” you shouted with a grin so wide you couldn’t suppress it. Jude’s smirk only deepened, clearly enjoying your reaction.

“Nah,” he said casually, as if it wasn’t a big deal. “Just want you with me all the time.”

“Oh my god…” All you could manage was breathless shock. He laughed softly, shaking his head.

“If we break up, I’ll just have a nice little reminder of the most beautiful girl I’ve ever met.” He teased and you rolled your eyes at his poor joke breaking you out of your state of disbelief. You laughed, your heart racing, a mix of emotions flooding you.

“You’re joking, right? It’s not actually real?” You questioned his authenticity. Something about it felt so ludicrously insane.

“It is,” he said confidently, his grin unwavering. You blinked again, processing the weight of it.

“I love it,” you giggled, “I love you.” Your jaw left still slacked.

“Good. You’re stuck on me now, you know.” He chuckled, his voice softening, Your smile faded into something softer, more serious.

“It’s not though, right? Like, you’re not serious?” You tried to circle back to if this was actually real or not. Jude raised an eyebrow, leaning closer to the camera.

“Dead serious. It’s real, Angel. You’re with me, wherever I go now. Taking the pitch at Wembley with me now. You gonna watch your debut tonight?” He asked with a smirk. You stared at him, still in awe, the reality of what he had done settling in . You weren’t sure whether to laugh, cry, or both. You were only able to nod with a smile. As your FaceTime with Jude ticked by you started to gain a bit more of reality back, he tilted his head to show you the tattoo once over and your mind raced with a million questions.

“Why didn’t you tell me you were doing this? When did you decide? Did you think it hurt?” You fired them off in quick succession, your voice full of excitement and disbelief. Jude chuckled at your barrage, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly.

“I’ll answer all your questions, promise, but I really have to get going. Got to get ready for the match later.” His eyes softened as he added, “I just wanted to say good morning, tell you I love you, and… show you this.” He tapped the fresh tattoo with a small grin, almost shy about the whole thing. You couldn’t stop giggling, your heart swelling with every word.

“Well... a good morning, an I love you too, and a… wow,” you said, still processing the image of those delicate angel wings etched into his skin. It felt surreal. You laughed, but it was the kind of laugh that bubbled up because you didn’t know what else to do with the rush of emotions you felt.

“Jude, you’re fucking nuts!” you finally said, shaking your head in disbelief, your cheeks hurting from smiling so hard. He grinned, knowing you well enough to recognize that your laughter was a mix of awe and affection.

“Yeah, well, you make me a little crazy, Angel.” As the call neared its end, you could feel that familiar ache, the distance between you two weighing heavier. But seeing those fine, simple angel wings—his way of keeping you close—made your heart ache in a different way. It wasn’t just sadness; it was love. Pure, brash, unapologetic love. Being apart stung, but knowing Jude had taken such a bold, permanent step to close that gap, to hold onto you even when you were miles away, was more than you ever expected. It was a gesture that meant the world.

“Alright, I’ll let you go,” you said, your voice softening. “But… Jude, seriously—thank you. It’s so sweet, and I… I love it. I love you.” you cooed gently.

“I love you too, Angel,” he replied with a smile that lingered on your screen long after you hung up, leaving you sitting there, still giggling, still in awe of how deeply he loved you. After your call with Jude, you sat in stunned silence for a moment, processing everything. He really did it. He really got a tattoo—for you. Without thinking, you immediately FaceTimed Whitney, your heart still racing with excitement and disbelief.

“Whit, I need you to do me a favor.” As soon as her face popped up on the screen, you blurted out,

“What’s going on?” Whitney raised an eyebrow, sensing the urgency in your voice.

“You cannot tell anyone. I swear to God, he got a tattoo… for me,” you said, your voice filled with a mixture of awe and disbelief.

“He what?!” Whitney shrieked, causing Teddy to let out a little annoyed yelp in the background.

“Mama! No!” she groaned tiredly, clearly disturbed by the sudden outburst. Whitney let out a soft laugh and an apology to her little girl but her attention was fast back to you.

“I swear,” you repeated, trying to calm your own voice.

“Jude? With a tattoo?” Whitney asked again, her voice laced with confusion as if trying to reconcile the mental image of Jude with ink. “Are you sure?”

“I swear, Whit,” you confirmed, nodding emphatically. “It’s for me…”

“Where?” she asked, now fully invested in the details. A smug smirk formed on your lips.

“Right behind his perfect ear. You can’t really see it unless you’re looking for it—it’s faint, just these little angel wings.” You explained. Whitney leaned closer to her phone screen, almost as if she could see the tattoo through your words.

“And you’re sure it’s there?” she asked, sounding doubtful, not because she didn’t believe you but just out of the pure shock that you were also just in. “I haven’t heard him talk about getting one.”

“Whitney,” you said seriously, leaning in as if to emphasize your point, “Listen to me. Look for it tonight, yeah?” You asked. She let out a breath, still trying to process everything.

“I mean… I’m still stuck on Jude with a tattoo. For you.” She laughed.

“I know,” you agreed, still half in disbelief yourself. “I can’t tell if it was like… a stupid joke, or if he’s actually serious.” You told her with a stupid smile on your face. Whitney’s expression softened into a grin.

“Honestly? I’m shocked but Jude’s kind of impulsive like that, isn’t he?” She shrugged, finally wrapping her head around the whole thing. You nodded, but the thought of him actually getting permanent ink to remind him of you—of how much he cared—left you feeling a little overwhelmed.

“I mean, we talked about tattoos before. It’s not like a huge* surprise he’d get something… Denise has some, Toby, I have some…” You tried to rationalize his decision or downplay it in your mind.

“But you didn’t think he’d get one for you,” Whitney finished for you, her voice laced with teasing.

“Exactly,” you said, biting your lip with a mix of giddiness and uncertainty. “But it’s there, Whit. I saw it.” Whitney let out a laugh, still shaking her head.

“Well, I’ll be sure to keep an eye out for it when I see him.” She confidently smirked ready to do whatever job you were asking of her.

“Thanks,” you said with a soft laugh. “But seriously, don’t tell anyone. Not yet, at least.” Whitney’s smile changed into one more conspiratorial.

“I won’t. But fuck, this is big. Jude Bellingham with a tattoo for his girl? That’s next-level.” She told you with mischief lighting behind her eyes. You giggled, the reality settling in deeper now.

“Yeah… it kinda is.” You admitted. Whitney’s face twisted into a playful grin as she teased,

“I mean, my fiancé doesn’t even have a tattoo for me or, you know, the child I birthed for him, but yeah, sure, good for you. Pussy’s bomb I guess ” she giggled, rolling her eyes in mock indignation. You couldn’t help but laugh along with her, shaking your head.

“Okay, okay! I get it.” But as your laughter subsided, the familiar twinge of insecurity crept in, and you hesitated before speaking again.

“Whit…” you started, your voice dropping a little. “When you go to the game later, can you—” You hesitated, biting your lip. “Will you let me know if there are, like, girls there? Like old girls from Birmingham?” Your question hung in the air for a moment, and Whitney burst out laughing again, though her laughter soon softened into something more sympathetic. She pouted, her eyes softening as she saw the anxiety creeping into your expression.

“Wait, Y/N… come on. Hold up,” she said, shaking her head with a teasing grin. “You’re telling me this boy might have a tattoo for you, and you want me to check for other girls?” She mocked you in an exaggerated tone, mimicking your sheepishness.

“I know! It’s ridiculous,” you admitted, still laughing but feeling a little shy about how transparent your insecurity was.You let out an embarrassed laugh, covering your face.

“Okay,” she said, nodding. “I’ll do both for you. I’ll look for the tattoo and check if any girls are hanging around.” Whitney gave you a softer smile, her teasing easing into reassurance.

“Thank you,” you sighed, grateful but still feeling a bit silly.

“But seriously, you’ve got nothing to worry about. Jude’s all about you, annggell.” Whitney gave you a playful glare, her tone light but firm as she sang the pet name

🪩🫶❤️‍🔥🍹🌞🍒 Thank you for reading! Please like, comment, or message what you think of the chapter 🍒🌞🍹❤️‍🔥🫶🪩

Next part - Chapter 19 - Judey xx

#jude bellingham imagine #jude bellingham #jude bellingham fanfic #jude bellingham x reader #jude bellingham smut

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cher-rei · 8 months ago

Text

afterglow- pt 7 [ T.A.A ]

pairings: trent alexander arnold x fem!reader

summary: young and aspiring marketing and business major jamie carter is privileged with working alongside the liverpool fc marketing and public relations team, while also getting entangled with their star player and right back, trent alexander arnold.

genre(s): friends to lovers, workplace romance, fluff

[wc: 4.6k] [part 1] [part 2] [part 3] [part 4] [part 5] [part 6] [part 8] [part 9] [part 10] [part 11] [part 12]

notes: it's the way that I've hinted at another fic in this chapter and then another one in chapter 8... I love interconnecting my series' ughhh

spamjam._. added to their story!

"here's one for you," jude spoke from his position on the hotel suite couch to gain your attention as you unpacked your things. "bro went from liking her posts to flying her over just for some moral support."

you rolled your eyes as he read out the tweets which he had been enjoying for the past ten minutes now. the way that twitter was rioting over the situation was utterly amusing— from your post on Instagram to jude stating that you were sharing a hotel room. they were having a blast by coming up with theories as to how this even came about.

yes, jude only happened to follow you on instragram at the beginning of the year but that was not the reason you knew each other at all. if it were then this situation would be very awkward. as he would say, "luckily for you, you had the privilege of knowing me before I became the equivalent to ryan gosling."

you wouldn't exactly call it a privilege but whatever made him sleep at night. funny enough, you two met at a football match when you were still in high school. it was strange to see a 17-year-old actively engage in conversation with some random 14-year-old just because he said she was screaming too much.

that wasn't the last of your accidental meetings, however, the next was a few weeks later when your parents invited some friends over from birmingham— and lo and behold who just happened to be the son of those friends.

so here you were at 20 and 23, closer than ever but keeping it as low-key as possible.

you proceeded to listen to jude comment on each tweet, each one funnier than the last. "I swear some of these people have got to be fbi trained." he shook his head and you hummed in response, nearly jumping up when jude yelled out in shock.

"listen to this one," he turned from his position on the couch to look at you in front of the bed. "in early 2023, jude followed jamie back on Instagram and 6 months later she got her job as liverpool's p.r manager. hours later after the announcement the entire squad followed her back, the first of them being trent. jamie and trent have been seen together a lot from then on and she's even tagged him in multiple of her Instagram stories. now what do we know about trent? he plays for england. who else plays for england? jude. where is jamie right now? in barcelona with jude."

you were left dumbfounded, jude staring at you with his eyes wide and obviously impressed. "well that's one way to connect the dots I guess." you shrugged your shoulders, "they're not wrong but they're not quite right either."

a scoff left jude's mouth and he got up from the couch to look out the ceiling-to-floor window looking out at the city. "trent's not the middleman here though. like dude you and I aren't dating so there's no need."

he was right, there was no need for a middleman. it was just pure coincidence but obviously people wouldn't think of it like that. "and I thank the lord for that every single day."

he pulled a face, "stop being dramatic. I'm not that bad and you know it."

you hummed out in debate, getting your things so you could go and shower. "I mean judging by your lack of female interaction--"

before you could finish a pillow was hurled straight at you causing you to yelp out, getting ready to days for the bathroom before he could throw another.

"I talk to woman!" he yelled out after you and you laughed a little louder than intended which prompted him to get another pillow.

"female reporters don't count jude!"

you slammed the bathroom door shut just as he threw the pillow again, a loud thud echoing through the room before it dropped to the floor along with jude's hands. he huffed out in frustration, complaining for a good few minutes before he came to a conclusion that made you double over in laughter.

"just for that, I'll be keeping my eye out for interns from now on! if I marry a reporter one day I'll make sure not to invite you just out spite!"

your first morning in barcelona consisted of nothing but peace. the view you woke up to was breathtaking, definitely the most beautiful sunrise you had ever seen. you took your time getting ready before breakfast and made sure to put together the best outfit you could manage seeing as it was rare that you got to wear summer attire.

jude shot you the most confused look to date when he saw your top. he hit you with the "woman stopped wearing corsets decades ago so I'm a bit confused as to why you're torturing yourself right now."

it took a bit to explain to him that you weren't suffering at all, but he still didn't understand and left it at that so the two of you could head to a restaurant for breakfast. every step you took your eye was caught by something more beautiful than the last, your heart strings tugging in the summer heat.

"I've made up my mind. I'm coming to visit you every three months."

jude didn't oppose the idea and instead encouraged it, saying that he needed a bit more company. everything was recorded, you had your phone out and your camera for double the footage, talking to the camera as you carried on with your day.

"do you really have to film everything?" jude asked from across your table at the outdoor seating area of the restaurant as you waited for your breakfast.

you made a sound at the back of your throat and continued to go through the footage you had so far. "unlike you, I have a social media presence and people enjoy the content that I put out okay?"

"uh huh." his eyes wandered over you silently until he was told to check your instagram story, and of course he reposted it being the absolutely amazing friend he was and not because he was in any way forced to do it...

spamjam._. added to their story!

"I don't think anyone understands how crazy it is to hear jude speak in spanish so casually." you turned your camera to look at jude opposite you, adorning an expression of offence.

you suppressed a smile. "this is the same boy who asked me if 'lethargic' was an actual word or if I made it up by the way."

that hit a nerve for him and he put down his fork, and pointed a finger at you while explaining the pointlessness of the word and just how stupid it was. "who uses the word lethargic jamie?" he raised his hands waiting for an answer.

your laugh could be heard behind the camera, obvious judgement in your tone as you teased him. "people who have a vocabulary level that exceeds year 6."

jude shot you an 'oh really look' clearly not buying your reasoning. "just say that you're tired," he grew a bit more defensive and you tried to speak over him but he continued on. "it's never that deep."

you laughed again, telling him that he literally just proved your point. you could feel the stares that you were getting from people passing by— just trying to enjoy their peaceful thursday morning without two idiots arguing about words.

the banter went on for a bit, the camera now set on the edge of the table so that both you and jude were in the frame, tension heightened as you debated. he shrugged his shoulders eventually, "lethargic is not that big of a word either. it's just unnecessary--"

your eyebrows raised, "--oh really?"

he nodded in confirmation, as to say that it was obvious and that he wasn't an idiot. so you did the only correct thing at the moment which brought a wave of nostalgia to wash over jude who couldn't help but laugh.

"spell lethargic then."

he hesitated for a moment, wondering if you were being serious. "go on then, prove me wrong." you urged him, and obviously, he took up the challenge because jude bellingham was not a quitter.

"L I--"

you cut him off with a proud smile, "wrong!"

"L A--"

"wrong!"

by now jude was dumbfounded, immediately reaching out for his cellphone to google the absurd word only to find out that it was spelt with an E. you hummed happily as he complained once again, saying that spelling it with an E didn't make any sense.

"jude victor william bellingham," you began with a smile and he shook his head. "one of real madrid and england's star players at the age of 20 yet he can't spell 'lethargic'."

the rest of the day played out smoothly— sightseeing, shopping till jude's entire backseat was covered in bags, a trip to the beach and using jude as your personal photographer and videographer. now that was what you called a vacation.

the last stop the two of you were going to make would be a small picnic to wrap up the evening seeing as jude would be at practice all-day tomorrow before the match later that evening. either way you wouldn't be alone because jobe would be flying down the morning, so you were more than excited to pick him up at the airport.

your picnic blanket was set down on the grass at a park, and once again the scenery had you gawking. the sunset was to die for, the atmosphere was chirpy yet peaceful and in all honesty if this was your last moment alive you wouldn't have any regrets.

you let out a content sigh, "if this is what being a wag is like then I might have to hit up victoria beckham for some pointers."

jude let out a laugh from beside you, watching silently as you pointed your vlog camera to the sky— moving it from side to side as you took in the scenery.

"I mean you have some good candidates, and you're already in the industry so it's just up to you." he nudged you on the shoulder. "make the move jamie."

a sigh escaped your lips at the fact that he was right. everything was played out in your favour and you needed to use it to your advantage. "I'll dm colwill when we get back to the hotel."

jude doubled over in laughter at your comment but you kept your attention on your camera, settling it down in front of the both of you. "he's younger than you."

you shrugged your shoulders to dismiss his note. "age is just a number or something."

that made you both smile but for two completely different reasons. jude found it funny whereas you were washed with an unfamiliar feeling, your mind flashing back to yours and trent's midnight mcdonald's run when he said the exact same thing.

that remembrance made you keep a mental note to call him later, just to see how things were holding up on that side.

the conversation picked up again when you shut off your camera. and of course, it took the emotional route at the hour of vulnerability. it hopped from family to work to comfortability in your respective situations in a matter of seconds.

it was nice for jude to have this time to talk about stuff like this, you knew he appreciated moments like this where he could express himself more freely without a language barrier or slight anxiety.

when he first left for madrid you remembered the five-hour conversation you had over the phone because he couldn't fall asleep, too unsure and unfamiliar with his surroundings to be able to settle in. with that, you made sure to check up on him daily before bed.

time zones didn't stop you and never would, especially with someone you considered family. jude and jobe were easily younger brothers to you— jude being the irritating younger brother who acted as if he were older than you and jobe being the sweet younger brother that needed constant affection.

you cared for them both dearly, making time to see each other whenever you could when you schedules were free.

"so you found the apartment?" jude asked and popped a grape into his mouth while he listened to you talk about your move out of your sister's house.

maya and noah were moving to london at the beginning of next year, which just so happened to be two months from now. which honestly was a great idea and you were super excited for them, but it was the househunting the was an issue for you because you were so picky.

you weren't too worried about the rent, the main issue was the interior so you took it upon yourself to do some drastic redecorating when you found one. and in four months it was ready, the only thing it was missing was you.

you nodded happily, "I can move in whenever I'm ready."

your answer made jude smile. be knew just how excited you were to finally move into a place of your own because all you'd been doing was saving up. "which is..."

"which is before christmas. and I have a little surprise on the way as well," you retorted in excitement but jude's thoughts immediately went to pregnancy and you could see it on his face, judging by how quickly his eyes dropped to your stomache.

the sun had fully set now, the air beginning to chill but not in a way that had you shivering, but in a way that made you feel relieved. basking in the atmosphere took your mind elsewhere, a glimmer of something in the back of your mind flashing.

your stomach dropped at the memory. one of the many that you've recently.

"we have to go to spain." the glee in your voice bounced off the walls of the bedroom, back to the bed where you and your boyfriend were lying.

he chuckled at your antics and the way that your grip tightened on his torso, his fingers lightly tracing your shoulder. "we'll go anywhere you like baby." he kissed the top of your head.

you looked up at him with doe eyes. "really?"

michael flashed an adoring smile, the same one that showed just how smitten he was for you. you felt a chill run down your spine at the touch of his fingers on your cheeks. "I'd do anything for you."

your throat stung at the memory, something that weighed so heavily on your chest. moments where you two promised to build a family together resurfaced, where you promised to always be there for each other, but this time accompanied by a bitter taste.

you'd accomplished so much these past few months and he wasn't there to witness it like he said he would. there weren't any flowers or handwritten cards with a hug that made you melt. you could still hear his voice sometimes and the way he would speak to you so gently.

at your graduation you could barely enjoy the moment because while being onstage you saw his face in the crowd, an unreadable expression and the words "I'm so proud of you, love" floating aimlessly through the air.

everything he ever said to you was now floating aimlessly through the air.

judebellingham

jobebellingham and 4 245 223 others liked this post

judebellingham had to go back to the hotel like thrice for her to get changed [tagged: spamjam._.]

see all comments below

jobebellingham please never take selfies again

→ spamjam._. agreed

→ judebellingham you're both walking to the stadium I don't care

vinijr ❤️🔥 [liked by judebellingham]

spamjam._.

liked by liverpoolfc and 2 345 234 others

spamjam._. 🌼

see all comments below

jobebellingham it's like you couldn't have waited for me before doing all this 😃

→ spamjam._. we're going to be together all week bro chill 🙄

liverpoolfc jamie come back, the kids miss you 🥲

→ spamjam._. they're lying

trentarnold66 you owe me a mcdonalds run when you get back [liked by spamjam._.]

→ spamjam._. yes sir 🫡

Ibrahimakonate 🙊❤️ [liked by spamjam._.]

curtisjr my gf says you're beautiful 🙄

→ spamjam._. gf?? curtis call me right now istg!!

levicolwill okay supermodel🙄❤️ [liked by spamjam._.]

→ spamjam._. check your dm's

"there's my favourite boy!"

you had your arms spread for a hug as you watched jobe walk up to you with a sheepish smile. you could tell that he was a slight bit embarrassed, but gave in anyway and dropped his bags to embrace you.

he had grown a freakishly large amount since the last time you saw him— towering over you would be an understatement and it took every bit of you not to feel overwhelmed, but how could you when he was so freaken cute??

a shy chuckle came from jobe as you continued to hug him, your arms tightly wrapped around in torso. "you can carry on when we get back to the hotel, people have places to be."

that wasn't good enough of an excuse for you. "they can let me have my moment."

when you got back to the hotel, jude wasn't there as suspected but all your bags were already packed for tomorrow morning's early flight back to madrid. the rest of the day was spent just relaxing in the hotel room and catching up as usual because you didn't want to waste your energy and fall asleep half way into the first half of the match.

"I can't believe I'm about to watch barça and madrid play," jobe commented as he scrolled through his twitter feed.

you two were settled comfortably on the couch set with snacks and the t.v playing as background noise. when you didn't reply he looked up from his phone, only to see you glued to your own with a lopsided smile.

it was unlike you to ignore him, even if it were by accident so it raised some suspicion. he kicked your thigh in an attempt to gain your attention but it didn't work, your fingers typing away at the keyboard for whatever reason. he didn't want to be one of those brothers and take your phone right out of hand and see what had you so interested— that was jude's job.

so instead he resorted to kicking you over and over until you eventually got irritated and yelped out in pain. "jobe my leg," you groaned and began to rub your thigh that he'd been taking hits at.

when you looked at him again his expression had changed, his lips slightly parted in shock. you asked him what the issue was and all he could manage was a scoff of disbelief. there'd only been one other instance where he'd seen you act like this before, and he tried to forget it at most.

"who are you talking to?"

jobe wasn't one to pry and you knew that, and when he did it was out of genuine concern. you cleared your throat awkwardly. "just a friend."

his eyes narrowed at your answer, knowing he caught you. "you don't have friends." in no way did he mean to offend you by saying that, because it was true and as clear as day. he knew you too well, maybe you could hide things from jude for a bit but with jobe it was different because everything came out unintentionally.

a sigh of defeat escaped your mouth and you set your phone down on your lap. "this is a situation my friend is in right now. you're not going to ask any questions okay?"

jobe nodded his head eagerly and sat upright so he could pay more attention. and just like that, you found yourself lost in the explanation and you were sure you nearly namedropped at least thrice but jobe remained attentive and gave his word when needed.

"I mean if they aren't dating then there should be nothing wrong with you--"

you gave jobe a look and he immediately retracted his last word.

"your friend. your friend, not you," he corrected sheepishly and you nodded.

he thought the idea was dumb. you could've just said that you were talking about yourself and he wouldn't have bugged you... that much. "your friend isn't overstepping any boundaries by the sound of it. so she should just go with the flow--"

you couldn't believe that you were taking relationship advice from an 18-year-old right now. this was your lowest. "--whatever happens, happens."

whatever happens, happens.

his advice genuinely seemed to shift some gears in your mind, and you wanted nothing more than to wrap him up in a bear hug. so that's exactly what you did. "have I ever told you how much I love you?"

the question made him stifle a laugh, the boy tightening his grip around your shoulders as you lay on top of him. "I want to say yes but no."

you slapped his arm jokingly. "you're my favourite brother too. but don't tell jude."

"how can I not??"

#footballer imagine #fanfic #footballer x reader #trent alexander arnold fluff #footballer x you #liverpool fc #trent alexander arnold x reader #football imagine #liverpool x reader #trent alexander arnold fanfic #afterglow trent alexander arnold #jude bellingham #jobe bellingham #cherrei rambles #cherrei writes #writers on tumblr #trent alexander arnold imagine #trent alexander arnold

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