#RuthAnne

[incorrect-hs-quotes]

if we're on the subjects of guardian name headcanons when I write AUs where the whole cloning thing isnt going on, i generally name rose's mom Ruth and roxys mom Ruby. i dont know i just like them. especially since Ruby's usually related to the Striders in some way so it feels like a fitting name

oh sick i have a ruth too but i made that roxys mom. roses mom get this i call her RITA. cause its short for MARGARITA 💯💯💯💯💯

-mod dave

[do-you-know-this-baby]

Do you know this baby?

[backseatbabyy]

“Zola's algorithm is a program...for choosing Insight's targets!” “What targets?” “You! A TV anchor in Cairo, the Undersecretary of Defense, a high school valedictorian in Iowa city, a middle schooler from Brooklyn. Bruce Banner, Stephen Strange, anyone who's a threat to HYDRA! Now, or in the future.” - Captain America: Winter Soldier (2014)

Ruthann Ralston - Marvel OC

~ General ~

Full Name: Ruthann Marie Ralston

Nicknames/Aliases: Ruth, Rue, Ruthie

Species: Human

Birthdate: October 17th, 2001

Residence: Brooklyn, New York City, New York | Bucharest, Romania | Birnin Zana, Wakanda | New York City, New York

~ Physical Appearance ~

Hair Colour: Brown

Eye Colour: Brown

Skin Tone: Light

Body Type: Mesomorph

Height: 5’1

Misc: Freckles

Faceclaim: Cailee Spaeny

~ Background ~

Hometown: Brooklyn, New York City, New York

Ruth had a pretty normal childhood…as normal as dead brother, veteran dad can get. Her parents were always determined that she had a good, normal life. A long one, too. Unfortunately, that wasn’t quite in the cards. Things have a funny way of ending up like that.

~ Heroism ~

Code Name: Stray

Allegiance:

Independent (2014-2016)

“Team Cap” (2016-2017)

Independent (2017-2018)

Avengers (2018)

Independent (2023-)

Suit:

Navy blue vibranium-threaded bodysuit with quarter zip neckline

Reinforced plating on forearms and abdomen

Black, metal guards on elbows and knees

Rubber-soles boots

Gloves armoured with metal knuckles, that have retractable spikes

Utility belt

Abilities:

Enhanced Strength

Enhanced Agility

Enhanced Speed

Enhanced Strength

Enhanced Stamina

Enhanced Reflexes

Enhanced Endurance

Enhanced Durability

Enhanced Flexibility

Enhanced Healing Factor

Skills:

Pickpocketing

Petty Thievery

Master Martial Artist

Expert Combatant

Master Acrobat

Close-Range Weapons Mastery

Expert Markswoman

Long-Range Weapons Mastery

Weaponry:

Vibranium knuckle-guards

Hunting Knives

Sig Sauer P220

Glock 19

~ Family ~

Grandfather: John Ralston

A veteran of the Vietnam war, John Ralston was part of a small test group who were given an iteration of the Super Soldier Serum. Although it initially showed no effect on it’s subjects, the serum soon sent those given it to an earlier grave, with each soldier dying of a mysterious ailment within two years of receiving their “mandatory vaccinations.” Although the project was deemed a failure due to none of the subjects showing any signs of enhanced physicality, later research discovered that the serum had altered the subjects’ DNA structures, passing down dormant gene marker that, when activated, caused the serum’s effects to appear in the individual who possessed the gene.

Father: Rupert Ralston

Although Rupert never met his father, his mother often told him he could have been his twin, in looks and temperament. He followed in his father’s footsteps and joined the army not long after he married his wife, Louise. Rupert served for almost twenty years before he sustained an injury from shrapnel and was confined to a wheelchair. Although Rupert never showed signs of the serum taking effect, DNA collected by HYDRA operative and tested by S.H.I.E.L.D following the raid on the Ralston household found that the gene had indeed been present, and was likely passed down to Rupert’s two children.

Mother: Louise Ralston

As a girl, Louise Ralston used the brag that her uncle knew Captain America. She used to pull out her mother’s photos of scrawny little Steve Rogers with her uncle Bucky and bring them for show and tell. Ruth remembered when the Smithsonian contacted Louise for photos of the Captain and his childhood friend and Louise spent a week digging through the attic with Ruth’s help to find all the old pictures and artifacts they could. Rupert even took Louise and Ruth to Washington to see the exhibit when it was opened to the public.

Brother: Jackson “Jacks” Ralston

Nearly fifteen years older than Ruth, Jacks never had a close relationship with his sister. When Ruth was not even three, her brother joined the military. He was killed in combat by her fifth birthday. Although she never knew her brother, his picture on the mantle and the stilted yearly dinners on his birthday meant she never forgot him either.

Great-Uncle: James Buchanan “Bucky” Barnes

Ruth meets Bucky in the Smithsonian Air and Space Museum, at the Captain America tribute exhibit. In front of the photos of Bucky himself, that her mother had donated. It’s easy to recognize him, when you’ve seen his photo and heard the stories all your life, also when he calls you by your dead grandmothers name. It’s probably easier than it should be, to convince him to take Ruth with him. It’s nice, not to be alone, even if the running goes from state-to-state to cross-continents. Life feels…routine, normal, at least as normal as you can get when you’re two Enhanced people on the run from basically everyone. Ruth clings to Bucky like a lifeline, even if he’s a trained assassin and over 90 years old, he’s still the only family she’s got left. And he does the same. Two years pass easily, and by the time Steve Rogers busts into their Bucharest apartment, Ruth doesn’t hesitate to start swinging.

~ Personality & Traits ~

Personality: They say Super Serum amplifies the traits already existing in an individual, but when the Serum is there from day one, what does that give you? Ruthann Ralston, apparently. Impulsive and rash, Ruth has a short temper and a mouth that would make a nun blush. She has more shitty jokes here than even the punniest of dads, and delights in using them at any opportunity. Ruth’s very resourceful and self-sufficient, determined to survive no matter the odds. To Ruth, she’s seen (and done) more than enough to warrant independence, despite her youth. She feels a lot of survivor’s guilt for what she sees as getting her entire family killed because of what she is. Despite this, she is very compassionate and trusts people who show kindness to her. She’s generally pretty unwilling to let others govern her and strongly sticks to that belief that respect is earned. And with her, it’s hard-won.

Likes: Math, numbers, puns, terrible jokes (like real stinkers), track and field, lacrosse, blue raspberry slushies, independence, close combat, competition

Dislikes: Anything cherry flavoured, being told what to do, using rifles/sniper rifles, cereal, unsalted butter, basketball, avocados, feeling trapped or restrained, being treated like a sidekick, dramatic motivational pep talks, cold weather, people who “don’t listen to music”

~ Relationships ~

Best Friend(s):

Maya Jameson (Formerly)

Shuri

Friends:

Peter Parker

Steve Rogers

Wanda Maximoff

Sam Wilson

Yelena Belova

Allies:

T’Challa

Clint Barton

Scott Lang

Bruce Banner

Natasha Romanoff

Tony Stark

James Rhodes

Thor

Enemies:

HYDRA

Valentina Allegra de Fontaine

Thaddeus Ross

~ Misc. & Notes ~

She’s fluent in Romanian.

Ruth has a tendency to try and automatically take her opponent to the ground, even if they have size and weight over her. This can be a great decision or a terrible one, depending on her opponent. Mostly a terrible one, when she’s sparring with Bucky or Steve.

Rocket once tried to recruit her for an off-world job. He figured she had “just the right level of recklessness”, but that got shut down almost immediately, to her disappointment.

Her and Peter had a rivalry. He beat her at the airport (barely!) and she’s made it her mission to beat him in a rematch.

She loves cats, but they seem to hate her.

After the “Civil War,” Ruth stuck with Steve after he freed her from the Raft. While Bucky was in cryo, Steve kind of took over for him. Ruth saw Bucky again in 2018 for the fight in Wakanda.

Ruth is fundamentally against using umbrellas. “Face the rain or stay inside.”

She learned how to fall asleep quickly and sleep lightly fast. She still does it to this day.

When Ruth was twelve, she tried to teach herself to juggle and ended up giving herself a concussion from tripping on one of her juggling balls and falling into a cabinet.

She keeps a “go bag” of money, food and clothes squirrelled away in her room. Everywhere she lived after what happened to her family. At first, it was a necessity, to stay ready to run from whoever was chasing her and Bucky. Now it’s just a habit.

The last thing she saw before being Blipped was Bucky disintegrating in front of her.

bucky and ruth = joel and ellie on steroids

[once-upon-a-reblog]

New Novella Out!

The world? ending.

The Escape? Magic portals.

The cost? Everything.

The Most Important Word, a new fantasy novella available for $1.99!

Amber Moore has screwed up a lot in her life. She’s due a win, and maybe this is it: a magic portal to lands unknown, created and run by fairy-tale monsters. As far as she’s concerned, survival is a decent trade for her freedom—but servitude is not what she finds.

Étienne is sad. Handsome. Lonely. Also, a vampire… and she is determined to befriend him, finding hope for them both. In the middle of an apocalypse complicated by curses, beauty, and unexpected romance, what difference can one woman’s choices make? As it turns out, all the difference in the world.

Read chapter one here

[mikeo56]

You know want to...

Brent Almighty, obey his will...

[barstoolblues]

olympia is the clear winner of that poll because well. you guys havent been to the olympia farmers market in october

[huntingtonnow]

Huntington NAACP Honors Legacy of Dr. King

The Huntington NAACP honored the life and legacy of Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. Monday with a celebration at Bethel AME Church. With rousing performances by the Christian Fellowship Choir, and an energetic call and response, the celebration was emceed by Jillian Guthman, the town’s tax receiver. It was sponsored by the NAACP and the Town of Huntington. Family Court Judge Victoria Gumbs-Moore was…

[pierreism]

The Peace Killers (1971) - End Credits

Featuring the song "White Dove" by Ruthann Friedman

[davestone13-blog]

With No Governance Committee for 6 Years Now, RIOC's Missing Head

“Board members of each state and local authority, or subsidiary thereof, shall establish a governance committee…” That’s the law, but for the last six years, RIOC board chair RuthAnne Visnauskas has ignored it. That’s not out of character for the CEO of NYS Homes and Community Development, at least with RIOC. Her negligence helped muzzle the board and cover for years of mismanagement. by David…

[readersmagnet]

"A Collection of Children's Short Stories" by Ruthanne Nopson

Delight your children with heartwarming tales with "A Collection of Children's Short Stories" by Ruthanne Nopson. From Buster Bunny's Thanksgiving mishap to Mila the Little Turtle's unexpected journey, these stories from Ruthanne's book for children promise to teach your children valuable lessons.

Spark your child's imagination with these unforgettable stories. Grab a copy at www.ruthannebooksforchildren.com.

[heywriters]

Rescued Writing Links!

When cleaning out the HEY, Writers! Pinterest I moved some links here. The internet has changed a LOT since I started collecting these, so some links may include outdated info. All were still active when I made this, but it's been in my drafts for a hot minute.

Protip! In Firefox, check to toggle reader view when reading these (mobile: the page icon in the url bar; desktop: same icon or hit F9). This removes popups, ads, screen clutter, and often has an audio option.

Survivors of Internet Decay Award!

These active sites featured most often in my collections so they get the top of the list.

Helping Writers Become Authors

Mythcreants

Bryn Donovan

Getting Started (Ideas & Intros)

How to Start Writing a Book: Learn One Writer’s Process | Marian Schembari

How to Start a Story: 30 Opening Scene Examples | Bryn Donovan

Don’t Panic! What to Do When You Have Too Many Story Ideas | Faye Kirwin

How to Write a Killer First Chapter | Rae Elliot

How To Write A Captivating Opening Sentence

Outlining

How to Create a Flexible Outline for Your Novel | Faye Kirwin

Protagonists

How to Write Believable Characters | Bridget McNulty

4 Ways to Write a Likable Protag at the Start of the Character Arc | KM Weiland

5 Tips for Writing a Likable "Righteous" Character | KM Weiland

I Hate Your Protagonist! Want to Know Why? | KM Weiland

The Secret to Writing Dynamic Characters: It's Always Their Fault | KM Weiland

A Protagonist’s Moment of Realisation

Antagonists

Blurring the Lines: What Are Anti-Heroes and Anti-Villains?

Antagonists: Inner & Outer Demons | Kristen Lamb

How to Write Multiple Antagonists | KM Weiland

Character Building

The Epic Guide to Character Creation, Part 1 | Kylie Day

Pick Up A Bad Habit | Maggie Maxwell

How To Write Characters from the Opposite Gender | Rachel Poli

Top 4 Tips for Using Backstory in Your Novel | Diana Anderson-Tyler

Depicting Background Characters | Chris Winkle

Scene Building

The 5 Elements Of A Good Scene | Amanda Patterson

A New Way to Think About Scene Structure | KM Weiland

2 Ways to Make the Most of Your Story’s Climactic Setting | KM Weiland

8 Things Writers Forget When Writing Fight Scenes | Lisa Voisin

Descriptions

Master List of Facial Expressions | Bryn Donovan

Master List of Words to Describe Voices | Bryn Donovan

Master List of Physical Description for Writers | Bryn Donovan

Writer’s Guide to Serious Injuries and Calamities | Bryn Donovan

How to Ground Your Reader (in the setting) | Rachel Craft

The Forgotten Fifth Sense | Writer's Relief

Never Name an Emotion in Your Story | KM Weiland

Show, Don't Tell: How to Write the Stages of Grief | Ruthanne Reid

100 Words for Facial Expressions

Dialogue

How To Write Good Dialogue: Ten Tips | Irving Weinman

Seven Dialogue Don’ts | Jason Bougger

10 Keys to Writing Dialogue in Fiction | Katherine Cowley

Points-Of-View (POV)

What Every Writer Ought to Know About the Omniscient POV | KM Weiland

Motivation & Support

What New Writers Need To Know About Fear | Bryan Collins

How to Discover Your Writing Process with Gabriela Pereira | Kirsten Oliphant

Editing & Revising

18 Overused Words to Replace When Writing | Oxford Tutoring

An Easy Way to Immediately Improve Your Character’s Action Beats | KM Weiland

Want More Depth to Your Writing? | Sacha Black

How Much is Too Much Backstory? | Ellen Brock

Why Your Writing Sounds Weird (And What You Can Do About It) | Joe Brock

Self-Editing for Fiction Writers | Jenny Bravo

Favorite Revision and Editing Tricks

Short Stories & Flashfic

How to Write a Story a Week: A Day-by-Day Guide | Emily Wenstrom

How Flash Fiction / Microfiction Can Help With Your Writing | Rhianne Williams

Worksheets & Downloads

Writing Worksheet Archive

If anyone out there loves making lists and wants to transport this to another site, you have every right to do so! Just let me know in a reblog so I can share it here again :)

---

HEY! Writers' Links

Tip Jar! If you enjoy my blog and advice, support me on Ko-fi!🤗

Follow me on AO3 for fanfiction

Visit my Pinterest & Unsplash for visual inspiration

[mutant-distraction]

Ruthann Perry

Chair leg octopus

[once-upon-a-reblog]

1, 6 and 10 for the worldbuilding questions? ^^

Holy crap I just saw this 😂 So sorry, @elmaxlys!

Are there any foods with symbolic meanings that are eaten on special occasions (e.g. katsudon for victory, or new years oranges for luck)? How did the tradition get started?

The Fey have SO MANY OF THESE. Ugh. Wines and breads, harvested by grapes that only ripen under a full moon, or wheat that's only harvestable at night. How did they get started? Easy: Mab, back when the Fey were dividing themselves into Seelie and Unseelie, had no traditions. Anything they'd had was wiped out by the First War; so she invented them.

She'd go, that song you just made up? Yeah, that's tradition now. That weird little pie you just baked? Yeah, that symbolizes victory for some reason.

The entirety of Unseelie culture owes its genesis in her.

6. What is a common way to subtly insult someone in your world, without crossing into overt rudeness? Gifting an item with negative connotations? Addressing them more familiarly or formally than normal? Backhanded compliments?

Here's a funny one: calling the Fey elf was a problem for a long time because human culture made them tiny little... gnome type creatures. They consider Tolkien's "no they are tall and willowy" thing a far-too-late return to the truth.

You can also call them Children of Grasses (insulting).

10. What’s a fun fact about your world that you as the worldbuilder are dying to share, but nobody ever thinks to ask?

HGNNNNFG Notte invented human culture. That's broad, YES; but he's responsible for a lot of the seeds that germinated in various things.

Or did you think it was an accident that most ancient religions are somehow soaked in blood?

[calif0rnia-lovers]

safe place.

an: ngl, I wanted to hug jude & bukayo through the screen when England lost😔

requested: I remember seeing that Jude said his mom helps him when he gets "too low with the lows or too high with the highs." Can you do a fic where his gf is that way?

pairing: jude bellingham x black!reader

series: lyrically inspired tales.

if my heart aches, you breathe with me at my pace.

song: safe place by ruthanne

warnings: this is most definitely not edited lol.

The stadium lights had dimmed, and the roar of the crowd had faded into a distant memory, replaced by a haunting silence. Jude Bellingham sat in the quiet of his hotel room, the weight of the Euro final's loss pressing heavily on his shoulders. Exhaustion seeped into his bones—physically, mentally, and emotionally he was tapped. The missed shot that could have changed everything replayed in his mind, a tormenting loop of what-ifs and if-onlys.

He felt utterly drained, each breath a reminder of the effort he had poured into the match. The worst part about losing was feeling like he was at his lowest, despite all the hard work and dedication he had poured in for his country. The memory of the silver medal being draped over his shoulder, the relentless flashes of cameras, and the disappointed faces of fans loomed over him like a dark cloud. He had tried to keep his head up, stopping to hug each of his teammates, whispering words of encouragement, but it still hurt like hell. He had forced a brave face, stifling the sting in his eyes, reassuring his family and friends that he was alright. Keeping up the front until he reached his room had been a monumental task, and now, alone in the dim light, the facade crumbled.

He stared blankly at the wall, the ache of disappointment settling deep within his chest. Hours seemed to drag by, each minute stretching into an eternity. His phone was on Do Not Disturb. Although he knew the messages were meant with the best intentions, Jude wasn’t ready to read the encouraging texts sent to him. He hadn't spoken to anyone since the bus doors closed, needing space to process the defeat alone. The team’s efforts, the dreams of a nation, all seemed to hang on that one moment when his shot had veered just slightly off course.

A knock at the door broke through his reverie. Jude ignored it at first, unwilling to face anyone. If he didn’t call out, whoever it was would go away. But then it came again. 

A single knock, followed by three softer knocks, a distinct rhythm that was all too familiar. It was a special knock. Your special knock, a signal that meant more than words ever could. It prompted him to rise from the bed and cross the room.

Your interaction at the stadium was still a blur. A rushed kiss against his lips, nose, and forehead, a whispered “I love you so much,” was all he could receive before he was moving through the line of friends and family. In the few short hours that had passed, you had showered and changed.

When he opened the door, Jude found you standing there with your travel backpack pressed against your chest.

Jude paused to take you in, grounding himself by focusing on your familiar features. It was a routine he had built over the last six months of your relationship, a way to find solace in the midst of chaos. His eyes passed over your smooth, deep brown skin, which seemed to glow softly in the dim light. He traced the contours of your face, from your cheekbones to your lips that carried a gentle, reassuring smile. The sight of it relaxed the furrow of his brow.

Your eyes, warm and filled with understanding, were his favorite feature. They held a depth of emotion and wisdom that made him feel seen and understood. Your lashes framed them perfectly, long and curled, adding to the natural beauty that always took his breath away. His gaze traveled up to the soft curls, pineappled at the top of your head, his hand instinctively reaching forward.

As he studied you, taking in every detail—his touch tracing the curve of your jaw before settling against your cheek—he felt a sense of peace wash over him.

"Hi," you greeted softly, your voice a balm to his battered spirit.

Jude managed a weak smile, the corners of his lips lifting. "Hey," he replied, his voice rough.

You stepped inside, Jude’s hand instinctively settling on your hips as the door closed.

The scent of lavender and chamomile wafted from the bag you carried, filling the room with a calming aroma. It was a scent that lingered on the sheets of each hotel room Jude stayed in, his bedroom at home, and even in his shirts and jerseys. He associated it with you, and only you—a fragrance that instantly brought relaxation and comfort. Whenever you couldn't make it to his games, Jude would find the aromatherapy tucked away in his bag, a thoughtful gesture that made him feel close to you even when apart.

“My flight leaves at 9:30 tomorrow,” you began as you unzipped the bag. Gathering what you needed, you started towards the bathroom. “So, I’ll probably leave here at 7. I’m sure traffic is going to be insane.”

Jude listened to your voice, the calm cadence soothing his frayed nerves. You didn’t expect a response; you knew him well enough to understand that after a loss, he needed time to recover. So, you verbally went through your travel plans. The turnaround was quick, but you needed to report to work. While slightly annoying, the plan was simple: report home, get back to work, and into your routine. Jude would soon follow.

As you focused on starting the bath, Jude began to look through the items you bought. His hand paused on something small and familiar, tucked beneath his favorite snacks—a stuffed lion. He picked it up, a wave of bittersweet memories washing over him. The lion had a soft, golden mane and big, friendly eyes. Stitched into the pad of its right paw was a heart. Jude remembered the day he won it for you at the Ice Palace, the way your face had lit up with joy, your smile so wide and genuine it had made his heart swell.

"My lion," you’d giggled, hugging the plush toy tightly before wrapping your arms around his neck, your laughter ringing in his ears. “I can keep him with me when you’re away.”

You paused in the bathroom doorway, watching him hold the stuffed lion. "That always makes me feel better when we're apart," you said softly, a smile finding your lips as the shared memory hung between the two of you.

You began to take out and explain the things you had brought to cheer him up—a selection of his favorite snacks, your iPad full of movies, and some comforting toiletries. "I brought these because I thought they might help you relax. And I know how much you love Shawshank Redemption. So...being the gracious, loving girlfriend I am, I will sit through it for the hundredth time. But, only if you promise to share your sour st-"

You were mid-sentence when he moved towards you, wrapping his arms around your middle from behind. For a moment, you stayed that way, the warmth of his embrace speaking louder than words. Jude buried his face in your shoulder, his breath hitching as he tried to hold back the tears that threatened to escape.

You could feel the tremors in his body, his grip tightening as if you were his anchor in the storm of his emotions.

"It's okay," you whispered, turning to face him, the warmth of your palms against his cheeks lifting his eyes to yours. "You gave it everything you had, and that's all anyone can ask for. I'm so proud of you, Jude. You’ve come so far, and this is just a moment in your journey. It's okay to feel hurt and disappointed, but remember that you are stronger than this. Everything happens exactly when it's meant to."

Finally, the dam broke, and Jude rested against you, the tears he’d managed to keep at bay all night came pouring out. He remained pressed against you until the stress of the past few months drained his eyes dry. He allowed you to lead him to the bathroom, welcoming the warm, fragrant steam filled the room, creating a cocoon of comfort. 

He allowed you to help him undress, your movements tender and deliberate, as if you were peeling away not just his clothes but also the layers of his hurt.

"Let's get you in," you murmured softly, as his lips brushed against yours, guiding him into the tub. Jude eased himself into the warm water, letting out a deep sigh as the heat began to soothe his aching muscles and weary mind.

You stepped back to gather the other things you had brought, but Jude's hand gently traced soothing circles into your thigh as you stood by the tub. The simple touch spoke volumes, a silent plea for your presence, for you to stay close.

Jude leaned his head back, closing his eyes as he let the warmth of the bath wash over him. The exhaustion and frustration that had gripped him began to loosen, replaced by a growing sense of peace. He listened as you moved around the room, lighting a few candles and setting out the items you had brought—a fluffy towel, his favorite shampoo, and a soft robe for when he got out. 

You joined Jude in the tub, settling behind him. He welcomed the loofah against his skin, the gentle, rhythmic motion of your hands soothing his frayed nerves. You massaged his shoulders, careful with the one that had been previously injured, as he rested back against you. His hand found its place on his leg, grounding him as he watched the movie playing on the tablet propped nearby.

Your touch worked magic, and you could feel his body gradually relaxing. The tension that had coiled within him slowly unwound, and he seemed to be coming back to himself. The voice in his head, the one that echoed with doubt and personal criticism, grew quieter with each passing moment. Each gentle kiss you pressed against his skin, each laugh you shared from the film, chipped away at the walls of his frustration.

By the time most of the bubbles had dissipated, Jude was completely relaxed. His gratefulness showed in the way he gently squeezed your thigh and the soft kisses he brushed against your knuckles. The warmth of the water, combined with your presence, created a cocoon of comfort and safety. 

He tilted his head back slightly, letting it rest against your shoulder, eyes half-closed in contentment. "I don't know what I'd do without you," he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper.

You smiled, fingers tracing small circles on his chest. "You don’t have to," you replied softly. "I’m here, always."

Jude sighed, a deep, contented breath that seemed to release the last of his lingering tension. He turned his head slightly to kiss your forehead, a silent thank you for being his anchor in the storm. The doubts that had plagued him earlier were now a distant memory.

The kiss he left against your lips was soft, almost sloppy. The physical and mental strain he's been under from Real Madrid and the Euros suddenly registering. His body begging for sleep.

"Let's get you outta here," you giggled. "I don't think I can carry you to bed if you fall asleep."

You press against the corner of his mouth, the action stopping the closing of his heavy eyelids. "Come on, Jude."

"Mmm...hold up..." Jude mumbled, eyes drifting shut as your lips brushed against his. Brow arching, his smirk prompting your eyes to roll. "...I'm not even tired."

"Uh-huh," stifling your giggle, you watch as Jude nods. His heavy eyes blinking before dropping down to your smile.

"'m not," he mumbled, his kiss missing your lips and settling on your chin.

A series of soft and light kiss lingered against your jaw, drifting to your shoulder. As much as he tried to fight off the comfortable sleeping tugging at him, Jude couldn't resist. By the time he reached your lips, a tired and goofy smile stretched across Jude's lips.

"Alright," he relented. "Let's go, but we gonna finish this in the morning."

"I'm sure we will," you smiled.

You place a final kiss against his lips. The brushing of your nose against his pulling out the smile that left you the victim of constant butterflies and euphoria. Before Jude knew it, the words slipped out.

"I love you," he murmured, the words hanging in the air between you like a delicate promise. "Thanks for this."

The words halted your movement of slipping from beneath him, your eyes widening slightly in surprise. It was the first time he had said it aloud. You had never pressured him for those words, knowing that he showed his love in countless other ways. Just as you did for him.

"I love you too, Jude," you replied as his lips found your forehead.

Letting his lips pass over your nose, Jude pushed himself.

[once-upon-a-reblog]

I AM DYING

DEAD

I LOVE YOU PLEASE HAVE ALL MY THINGS

(glorious glorious meme-work from my novel, The Sundered)

sequel to this