#Normal Delivery Charges

[vibhutihospitals]

Cesarean And Normal Delivery Hospital in Dehradun – Vibhuti Super Speciality Hospital

Vibhuti Super Speciality Hospital has positioned itself as the Best Cesarean Delivery Hospital in Dehradun, thanks to its skilled medical team, advanced facilities, and exceptional care services. With Dr. Nidhi Kumari at the helm, expectant mothers are assured of a safe and healthy delivery experience, whether they opt for a normal or cesarean birth. The hospital’s commitment to provided that complete maternity care at affordable rates further cements its reputation as a trusted healthcare institution in Dehradun.

[boogiewoogieweeb]

it's all fun and games typing up a silly, rickety little au idea in the tags of someone else's post and then suddenly you find yourself expanding on the world-building and plotting out interconnected stories for characters you swore would only make background appearances and your brain is On Fire with the need to write even when you know you can't commit to yet another doomed wip

[isdalinarhot]

bank transfer times you are my worst fucking enemy

[slashpaws]

"i will make you suffer. suffer like so many of the others." i could fix him.

[eternity-hospital]

The Art and Science of Plastic Surgery at Eternity Hospital

Eternity Hospital is a leading institution in plastic surgery, combining artistry and advanced medical techniques to enhance both beauty and function. With expert guidance from renowned surgeon Dr. Arvind, the hospital offers personalized care across aesthetic and reconstructive procedures. Committed to excellence, Eternity Hospital emphasizes patient comfort and continuous staff training, ensuring transformative outcomes that empower individuals to realize their ideal selves.

www.hospitaleternity.com

[clownsuu]

Just a lil doodles smhhhh

cw: mentions of violence and distress. Also weapons-

This is probably a good time to mention everyone’s jobs since I keep forgetting to mention it JDHDGDH

Wally: Da Boss (yeah no shid) he isn’t that merciful of a boss- can be very brutal with how relentless he can be and is a bit of a (non sus) sadistic a s s sometimes. Usually is playfully humorous initially, but can quickly go sour if he feels ever so slightly ticked. Preferred weapon: his eyes and his arms.

Barnaby: Body guard, boss’s left hand man, usually the one who talks for the boss. Sometimes he’s even seen as the “unofficial” boss of the whole group (which he likes to humor sometimes) but in the end he is possibly the most loyal out of everyone to Wally (man’s best friend after all). Preferred weapon is “da biggest gun we got!!!”

Howdy: Butler, bartender, boss’s right hand man. Will do basically everything anyone says (who’s part of the family) without question, however he will always take the Boss’s requests as main priority over the others. This will often keep him awake and exhausted, and a few new stitches to add to his collection. He has the lowest ability to think freely. Preferred weapon: Ice pick

Julie: Hitman A, interrogator, mad scientist really. Killing isn’t really too much of her thing, she prefers methodical planning and slow suffering with the use of chemicals and even random substances she can get her lil paws on. She’s not afraid to use anyone as a test subject, even if it’s her own members. preferred weapon: tranquilizers

Sally: Hitman B, intimidator, c h a o s. Almost the complete opposite to Julie. Absolutely chaotic and adores violent bloodshed to a point it’s theatrical. Usually is called if they don’t really need a clean kill. Can often be seen dancing and listening to music while on the job, often says it helps her focus (nobody really argues with it). Preferred weapon: anything blunt and/or violently loud (tasers, rocket launchers, fireworks) (sally is banned from using rocket launchers)

Poppy: Medic, crime scene cleanup, voice of reason, sometimes chef. She does ok when it comes to clean ups and stuff, however she has panic attacks and gets terrified when ever she hears screams of pain/torture, and freezes. Typically Howdy is there to help her snap out of it and help her complete her work, if not do her work for her. Everyone, even including the boss, is there to support her when she’s distressed (everyone would hug her except Wally. He does not like being touched unless it’s Howdy or Barnaby). Preferred weapon: n/a

Eddie: Messenger, delivery pick up/drop off, handler of the goods. He usually goes by himself, however after an incident where he lost his arm from a deal gone wrong, he is now required to leave with at least one of the hitmen (typically Sally). Very often does he get hurt in these trips and is usually always saved by Sally. Absolutely adores Frank for always trying to find the safest routes for him and wishes they had time together alone. Preferred weapon: a simple revolver

Frank: In charge of ordering goods, making contacts, being a voice of reason, basically just a manager. The most stressed member of the group. Rarely is he seen outside of the headquarters unless it’s to talk to well known individuals. He doesn’t usually talk to anyone besides Howdy (ranting at the bar about people), Eddie (telling him what he needs to get next), and Julie (normal convos and her asking him to order new chemicals for her next project). Every time Frank thinks he has an intimate moment together alone with Eddie, out of the blue Eddie would just randomly talk about how much he loves the family and how Wally is so amazing. The next day Frank asks him about it, it seems Eddie doesn’t remember what happened yesterday. Frank has the highest ability to think freely. Preferred weapon: a simple glock.

Home: Voice of reason. Preferred weapon: Wally

[bigwishes]

Tummy Trouble

Connor flexed at himself in the mirror, he'd been lifting for years but still was no where near as big as he dreamed to be. He looked at some of his buddies in the gym that had gotten bigger than him taking roids but Connor didn't want any of that crap, he wanted to get as big as he could naturally, without risking his health.

Still he couldn't help but wish he was so much bigger.

Connor was on his way out of the gym when someone stopped him.

"Hey bro," the man grabbed Connor by the arm

Connor turned to see a unbelievable tall man who was insanely muscular. The straps to his tank top where barely visable between his shoulders and traps, the length of his tank top wasn't quite long enough to cover up his entire torso and his gym shorts looked more like spandex underwear. Connor was both turned on by the sheer size of the guy and turned off, he was clearly a roid head.

"eer, hey man"

"hey bro you look real fit, are you training to get bigger?"

"yeah man, as big as I NATURALLY can" Connor made sure to pretty much shout naturally at the guy, he'd had too many roid heads try and sell him gear in the locker room before but never had one brave enough to try it out the front of the gym

"aw yeah man, nice nice, look I got a sample for you"

"sorry man, Im not into enhancements or roids or whatever"

"you got me all wrong bro, no roids, its free gym gear we are giving out some clothing samples and asking for feedback for payment"

Connor's face turned bright red with embarrassment, now he seemed like some entitled asshole who thought he was too good to even talk to anyone not natural.

"bro I'm so sorry, I just, normally when a guy like you asks me if I want a sample in the gym" Connor began to stumble over his words trying to back peddle realising he basically just called this guy a roidhead without proof

"a guy like me?"

"yeah, eerrrrr, ya know big and..."

The giant man began to laugh and slapped Connor on the back "I'm just fucking with you mate"

Connor let out a sigh of relief

"but hey mate, so you're all about the natural look yeah? but you also wanna be a massive tank?"

"yeah man, look I know I might be dreaming but I wanna be fucking huge, like you, I just don't wanna take any enhancements"

"I think I got something for you mate, here"

The giant handed Connor a small carboard box with the words "Big and Bulky" written in bold black letters and a gift card for $100 Food delivery service stapled to the top.

"Free of charge mate, put em on when you get home and I'm sure you'll be feelin like a freak in no time" The giant man winked.

Connor took the gift and continued to thank him multiple times trying to make up for the fool he'd made of himself just moments before. He got in his car and sank in his chair. He opened the box seeing a pair of briefs, he couldn't exactly try them on in his car, he thought it'd be better to just come back with some feedback tomorrow.

----------------

Connor stepped out of the shower and dried himself off, he began his normal flexing routine in his mirror but thoughts about being staying lean and small invaded his mind fairly quickly. He contemplated if staying natural was worth it if it meant he'll never get his dream body. Pushing the thoughts to the back of his mind Connor slipped on the briefs he was gifted earlier and......they felt like normal briefs. He couldn't work out how these were made special for athletes but at least he got a food gift card out of it.

Connor picked up his phone going to take a photo whilst he looked good in the light when suddenly a golden light began to shine off the waist band of the briefs. It was like sunlight was coming out of the fabric itself. He saw the letters B....I.....G slowly appear and he watched in the mirror as his body began to swell. His shoulders broadened, chest expanded with every breath, his arms began to swell up and soon his pecs and arms were competing for space. His thighs became tree trunks and he had to readjust his package so it didn't get crushed between them, even his feet began to grow outwards. Soon it all slowed down and all Connor could do was stare at himself in amazement.

Somehow, by literally magic he had swollen up into the size of his dreams. he couldn't help but start flexing and even licking his own bicep. A small noise, like a shop bell interrupted his self worship as a tiny slip of paper was ejected from the top of the box. Connor picked it up...

"Thank you for choosing Djinn.co transformative clothing, the transformative clothes you have chosen will permanently change your body, no need to workout to stay in shape never loose muscle keep the body of your dreams... NOTE: Your attendant for the day was Big Guy Bob he has added extra command words to your transformative clothing, we here at Djinn.co only print two command words on our clothing however your interaction with Bob had him convinced you deserved more"

Connor was amazed, surely this was a dream, there was no way he had stumbled into a pair of magic transforming clothes. As Connor was caught up in this thoughts light began to shine out of the other side of the waist band, the Connor felt his body start to get bigger. A part of him thought he should take the underwear off but he wanted to get bigger, he wanted to be a giant like the guy he met today. Another light began to shine from begin but Connor couldn't see. He flexxed in the mirror looking at the letters B...U....L....K....Y appear on the waist band. He flexed as hard as he could expecting to see his muscles to double in size again.

Connor's muscles became slightly large but nothing really changed. He dropped his arms to his side hearing his stomach make a slight gargling noise.

"awww, is that it, nothing even hap-"

*FWOOOMP

Connor almost fell forward as suddenly his six pack expanded into a loose gut. Hair quickly coated his entire body and he started sweating worse than he normally would at the gym.

"WHA...M...MY ABS...MY SIX PACK WHAT THE FUCK"

Connor rubbed his new tummy on the verge of tears.

"oh god...what the fuck do I do with this thing"

His stomach let out a loud hungry growl as if almost to respond to him.

He picked up his phone and used the gift card to order some food, as if on auto pilot he spent the entire $100 instantly and even dropped another $100 from his own bank account on food.

Connor just stood in the mirror staring at his new belly disgusted. He had all the muscle he had dreamed of but felt his gut, pecs and ass wobble as he flexed. Soon the doorbell rang and Connor went to go grab his bags of food.

Bringing the bags in from inside and placing them on his kitchen bench his hands instantly dove in grabbed a handful of fries out the box without even taking the box from the bag, without realising he had stuff half the box of fries in his mouth, salt fell from his lips into his new forest of chest hair and he simply wiped his salt covered hand on his brief whilst opening a bottle of off the shelf protein shake. He began chugging it down and could feel little bits slips from his lips and into his new beard. Connor picked up all the bags and moved to his couch.

Connor blinked awake as if from a trance, all around him were empty plasic bottles from protein shakes and soft drinks, multiple empty fry boxes littered the look around him and he noticed his chest hair was tangled with salt, some burger lettuce and dried protein shake, his briefs were also covered in stain from where he had wiped his hands. He slid his briefs off noticing 3 words painted on the ass he didn't notice appear. "SWEATY, HAIRY, SLOB". Connor rubbed his new gut and tossed the briefs to the side.

His stomach began to gurgle and it sounded like a water cooler. He watched as his loose gut started to become firm.

"oh...god...whats happeneing now"

each time Connor inhaled his stomach felt worse

"I....god what the fuck"

A small ding noise interrupted Conners panting and panicing as another small slip of paper magically was printed out of the top of a closed chip box. Conner leant forward and read it.

"Hey man, Big Guy Bob here, today you expressed wanting to become a natural tank, so I made sure you got a pair to turn you into an absolute unit but I know you were worried about people thinking you might be on roids, just look at today you were so quick to think I was on them, so I added some key words to not only turn you into a huge tank but to turn you into a huge slob, enjoy the size bro"

Connor groaned as he tossed the note to the ground.

"FUUUUUUUCKKK IM SO.......BUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUURRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRPPPPPPPPPPP"

the pain subsided and his stomach went soft again. Connor stared at his enormous body in the reflection of the black glass of his TV.

"mm...mmaybe i can cut?" Conner said aloud, completely unaware of the cupcake he was stuffing into his mouth as he spoke...

-----------------------------------

I hope everyone who wanted me to write a weight gain story is happy with this one, this is probably as far as Ill every go with this kinda stuff but yall voted on it and I was happy to write it.

[virgoilluminati]

Hospitality at its Finest

a Jude Bellingham oneshot

Inspo: Basically i have the shittiest job ever, and the only thing that got me through it was thinking about how jude would comfort me at the end of a long shift. I feel like a lot of you gurlies can relate so enjoy ☺️

You had had the worst day.

Probably the worst day you'd had in years

And the only person you could blame was your boss.

He was an A grade arsehole. He only cared about how much money your restaurant made. How it made him look in front of the restaurant owners.

He didn't care about your feelings, how crying had become a normal part of the shift or how every time he walked in, your stomach tied in knots.

Today was an exemplar of it.

At the beginning of the shift, everything was fairly normal. You were supposed to start at 12pm, but you had come in early, caring for your colleagues and knowing that they would need the extra staff for the new delivery. As you mentally prepared yourself for the shift, you started putting away the new stock and organizing the kitchen.

Quickly looking at your phone one last time, you clocked into work before admiring your lock screen with Jude. After all, all of this was for your future.

As you made your way to the shop floor, it was dead silent. So silent that you knew the second you opened the door in the backroom, you'd be greeted with a mess. But you didn't expect what you were greeted with. Stacks of dishes towered precariously, remnants of ingredients sprawled across counters, and an unmistakable odor of burnt food lingered heavily in the air.

Your closest colleague Haley was on the ground, covered by stock boxes. When she see's you walk in, she smiles, but the exhaustion in her eyes betrays her forced cheerfulness. Without wasting a moment, you rush to help her up, setting the boxes aside.

"Wha-"

"Don't ask. It's Jamie. He overestimated our multitasking skills again. We could use all the help we can get right now."

You nod, taking in the chaotic scene. Rolling up your sleeves, you dive into the mess, prioritizing tasks in your head.

The second the doors to your restaurant opened, a wave of eager customers flooded in, adding to the already hefty workload. You had only just made your way out of the heavy stock room before you were serving your first customer, your manager already shaking his head.

You grabbed a notepad, scribbling down order after order with precision. As you do such, you realise that no one has set up back of house, and whilst everyone was dealing with the stock, you'd be doing both positions, already.

Oh gawd it was going to be a long day.

The next issues happened just after the lunchtime peak. Your manager—ever the perfectionist—decided to go out and back home to get changed. He didn’t tell any of you, just putting your colleague Hetty in charge.

Now, for all of the reasons you loved Hetty, she was a terrible team leader. She spent half of the time bossing everyone around, whilst the other half chatting and gossiping about the managers. So when you realized that she was in charge, you knew it was going to turn sideways.

What made it even worse was halfway through the shift you suddenly got cramps. It could only mean one thing: your period.

You knew better than to miss your orders, so you managed to deal with the cramps and act normal. But as soon as anyone’s order was mentioned, you gritted your teeth. Deep down, you could feel your cramps churning up. But you managed to keep your cool. Or at least until Hetty began barking orders at you, telling you that while you were making a cheesecake, you also needed to clean the station, get the ice cream ready for service, and get the lunch menu ready that was just coming out.

Needless to say, you didn’t really listen to her orders, instead focusing on the four cheesecakes you needed to bake, twenty lusty turkeys, and the rest of your workload that’s coming in. You’d maybe gotten halfway done with the orders when suddenly your stomach muscles tightened and spasmed at the same time. It hurt to breathe in, so you tried to breathe in as slowly as possible, praying to God that the next person who insulted you would take it back as soon as they said it.

Now, you’re screwed, because between the pain in your stomach and the pressure from the customers, it was overwhelming. To make matters even worse, your restaurant owner Jiah, a certified misogynist, stood next to you as you prepared each of the dishes. Every mistake you made, or anything you said to Hetty, was being monitored. At first, it was fine—still stressful, but you were so preoccupied that you didn’t care. Until you accidentally spilled three of your cheesecakes on the ground.

Every time someone shouted at you, it felt like someone was digging into your sides. Your vision blurred slightly as you bent down to clean up the mess. As you rose, you saw Jiah’s disapproving glare. You braced yourself, knowing a reprimand was imminent.

“Do you even know how much those cheesecakes cost?” Jiah hissed, his face reddening.

"Sorry-"

You nodded, biting your tongue to keep from snapping back. Losing your temper wouldn’t help anything, especially not with Jiah watching your every move. Taking a deep breath, you focused on the tasks at hand, prioritizing the most urgent ones. Hetty’s voice cut through the noise of the kitchen, but you tuned her out as best you could. There was no time to waste arguing with her or explaining why you couldn’t drop everything to clean the station right this second.

The cramps were relentless, and you clutched your stomach briefly, willing the pain to subside. A few of your colleagues noticed and offered sympathetic looks, but they were just as swamped as you were. It was clear that everyone was feeling the strain of the lunchtime rush.

You managed to get the cheesecakes into the oven and started on the turkeys. The repetitive motions of seasoning and prepping gave you a momentary distraction from the pain. But it wasn’t long before Hetty was back, barking orders again.

“You still haven’t cleaned the station! And where’s the ice cream?” she demanded.

“Working on it,” you muttered, trying to keep your voice steady. But the frustration was building, and you could feel tears pricking at the corners of your eyes. You blinked them back, determined not to let anyone see you break down.

Finally, a small reprieve: the cheesecakes were done, and you could focus on plating the desserts and getting them out to the customers. But just as you thought you might be able to catch your breath, Jiah appeared again. He didn’t say anything, but his disapproving glare spoke volumes.

You could feel his eyes on you, watching your every move. When you accidentally spilled three of your cheesecakes on the ground, Jiah’s look was withering. He didn’t need to say a word; his expression made it clear he was counting this as yet another mark against you.

“Get it together,” you heard him mutter under his breath, just loud enough for you to hear. You nodded, biting your tongue to keep from snapping back. Losing your temper wouldn’t help anything, especially not with Jiah watching your every move.

Taking a deep breath, you focused on the tasks at hand, prioritizing the most urgent ones. Hetty’s voice cut through the noise of the kitchen, but you tuned her out as best you could. There was no time to waste arguing with her or explaining why you couldn’t drop everything to clean the station right this second.

Just as it began to calm down again, Jiah's glare disappearing from notion, Hetty came over to apologize for being stressy.

"Sorry for earlier," she said, her tone uncharacteristically soft. "I know I was a bit much."

You accepted her apology with a nod. "It's okay. We were all under a lot of pressure. I was just about to go to the toilet."

Before you could make your way to the restroom, a call came through the kitchen, telling everyone to gather in the staff room. You tried to hold yourself together, though you could feel tears threatening to flow. The cramps were still gnawing at your insides, and the stress of the day had worn you thin.

As you and the rest of the staff assembled in the cramped room, the air was thick with apprehension. Jamie, another manager, stormed in, his face a mask of fury. He didn't waste a second before launching into a tirade.

"I just got a bollocking from the owner! What the hell happened here?" he bellowed. "This is so embarrassing! We've had multiple complaints from customers, dishes sent back, and unacceptable delays. This is not the standard we uphold here!"

His words were like blows, each one landing heavily. You stood there, silent and still, trying to absorb it all without breaking down. The cramps were relentless, making it hard to concentrate on anything other than the pain.

For about forty minutes, Jamie continued his verbal assault, highlighting every mistake and misstep. You could feel the tension in the room, everyone too afraid to speak or move. As he yelled, you just stood there, taking it in, feeling smaller and more defeated with every passing second.

"This has to stop now," Jamie continued, his voice growing louder. "I expect better from all of you. No more excuses. The owner is furious, and honestly, I can't blame him. Today was a disaster!"

With that, he stormed out, leaving the staff in stunned silence. You could feel the tears threatening to spill over, but you fought to keep them at bay. The pain in your stomach and the weight of Jamie's words were almost too much to bear.

Hetty gave you a sympathetic look but didn't say anything. Everyone slowly dispersed, heading back to their stations or taking a moment to collect themselves. You made a beeline for the restroom, finally letting the tears flow once you were safely behind the closed door.

Just as you began to take a couple of minutes to calm down, Jamie pulled you over.

"Hey, I need to ask you something," he said, his tone softer but still urgent. "Are you willing to leave early today?"

You had already had to cut a shift recently, and your hours were pretty low. "I really need the hours, Jamie. I'd prefer to stay."

He frowned. "I need to get rid of some staff because there's too many on right now."

You tried to politely refuse again, but before you could finish, he called out, "Hayley! Do you want to leave early?"

"Sure," Hayley replied without hesitation.

"See, it's not personal," Jamie said, turning back to you. Feeling completely deflated, you turned to get your stuff and clock out.

As you gathered your things, Jamie turned to you one more time. "By the way, you sat down too much today."

You were gobsmacked. "I didn't sit down at all."

"No, you were," he insisted. "And that's not acceptable."

You went to protest again, but he cut you off. "No, you were, and that's not acceptable."

Feeling a mix of frustration, exhaustion, and defeat, you bit back any further response. As you clocked out and walked out of the restaurant, you felt the tears begin to well up again.

By the time you got on the bus, the tears were streaming down your face. You found a seat at the back, hoping no one would notice as you buried your face in your hands and sobbed. The day's events replayed in your mind: the stress, the pain, the unfairness of it all. It felt like the weight of the world was pressing down on you, and you couldn't hold it in any longer.

As the bus moved through the city streets, you cried, letting out all the frustration and sorrow. You knew you had to face another day tomorrow, but for now, all you could do was let yourself feel the pain and hope that somehow, things would get better.

When you arrived home, you tried to wipe away your tears, determined to put on a brave face for Jude Bellingham, who had just returned from football camp. You were emotionally drained but wanted to be supportive and positive for him.

As you walked through the door, Jude was in the kitchen, looking relaxed and cheerful. He noticed your subdued demeanor but decided to wait before saying anything.

"Hey, how was work?" he asked, trying to keep his tone light.

"It was... busy," you replied, forcing a smile. "But let’s not focus on that. How was camp?"

Jude’s face lit up as he started recounting his experiences. "Camp was fantastic! We had some intense training sessions and a lot of fun. You won’t believe the prank Trent and I pulled on the new guys. We got them to believe they had to complete this ridiculous obstacle course to join the team."

He continued with animated enthusiasm, "And then there was the friendly match against a local team. Trent and I were trying out these new moves, and it was amazing to see the crowd’s reaction. We felt like rock stars!"

You nodded and smiled at the right moments, trying to engage with his excitement, but your mind kept drifting back to the stress of the day. Despite your efforts to seem interested, you felt a growing sense of overwhelm.

Jude’s stories flowed effortlessly. "Oh, and the camp mascot incident was hilarious. Trent and I ended up in the costume, and we had this impromptu dance-off with the kids. It was one of those moments where you just can’t stop laughing."

As he chatted, you found yourself struggling to keep up the façade. Your responses became more mechanical, and you occasionally glanced at the clock, feeling the weight of your exhausting day pressing down on you.

Jude seemed to sense something was off but kept going. "You know, I was telling Trent about how you and I used to go to that little café downtown. He said he’s been there before and loved it. We should go sometime."

You forced a laugh and nodded. "That sounds great."

As dinner preparation continued, you made an effort to stay present, but the stress from earlier was starting to take its toll. You kept insisting you were fine, even though you felt increasingly overwhelmed.

In the midst of this, you were preoccupied with trying to balance cooking and maintaining a cheerful demeanor. As you pulled a dish out of the oven, you accidentally brushed against the hot rack. The sudden sharp pain in your hand was like a jolt that broke through your emotional walls.

You cried out and rushed to the sink, holding your burned hand under the cold tap, your composure finally shattering. Tears streamed down your face as the pain seemed to trigger a flood of emotions from the stressful day.

Jude, who had been in the living room, heard your cry and the sound of your sobbing. He rushed into the kitchen and saw you with your hand under the tap, tears flowing freely.

"Hey, what happened?" Jude asked urgently, moving quickly to your side.

"I—I burned myself," you managed to say through sobs. "I’m so sorry... I tried to keep it together, but I couldn’t."

Jude gently took your hand from under the tap and inspected the burn. His concern deepened as he carefully wrapped your hand in a clean towel.

“Hey, hey, hey. Don’t cry, m’love. It’s okay—speak to me,” Jude said, his voice filled with concern as he moved to your side.

“What do you mean? I’m okay, I just burned myself,” you tried to explain, though your voice was trembling.

“Y/N, do you think I was born yesterday? I know my girlfriend, and I know when she’s upset. What happened?” Jude asked, his tone gentle but firm.

His insistence broke through your remaining resolve. You burst into tears, the emotional strain of the day combining with the pain of the burn. “I—I had such a terrible day. Jamie was so harsh, and everything seemed to go wrong. I was trying so hard to keep it together, but I just couldn’t anymore.”

Jude’s expression softened, filled with empathy and concern. “No, don’t say that. You’re not stupid. You’re my Y/N. You’ve been through so much, and you’ve handled it with so much strength and grace.”

He gently took your hand from under the tap and wrapped it in a clean towel. Pulling you into a comforting embrace, he continued, “Your a trooper you know.”

You clung to him, the warmth of his embrace providing a much-needed sense of security. Jude held you close, his arms wrapping around you with tenderness. He stroked your hair softly and whispered in your ear, “You’re amazing, you know that? You’re allowed to have bad days and to feel overwhelmed. I’m here to help you through it, no matter what.”

You buried your face in his shoulder, letting the tears flow freely as he continued to hold you. Jude’s soothing presence and gentle touch helped ease the burden of the day. He spoke softly, his voice full of love and reassurance. “You’ve been so strong, but it’s okay to let go and lean on me. I’m here to support you, to lift you up when you need it.”

Jude carefully wrapped your burned hand in a clean towel, his touch gentle but deliberate. He then pulled you into a comforting embrace. “Why don’t you head to the living room and take a breather? I’ll sort out dinner. And try not to make any more of the place look like a disaster zone, yeah?”

You managed a weak smile as you headed to the living room, still sniffling. The sounds of Jude bustling around in the kitchen—pots clattering, the hum of the stove—provided a bit of distraction as you settled onto the couch.

A few minutes later, Jude walked into the living room with his phone in hand and plopped down beside you. He placed his phone on the coffee table and began gently wiping away the tears from your cheeks.

“I don’t want anyone treating you like that,” Jude said firmly, but with a soft edge. “I’ve had a word with the higher-ups about Jamie. It’s not on.”

You looked at him, surprised. “You did? How’d you manage that?”

Jude grinned. “Let’s just say I’m good at sorting things out when it comes to my people."

You chuckled despite yourself. “Well, thanks. I didn’t think you’d go this far.”

Jude gave a cheeky wink. “I was gonna sort it anyway, oh, also, um well now seemed like the perfect time.”

"Jude-"

He pulled out his phone and showed you the screen. “I’ve had a chat with my agent. "

"What?!!"

"Got you a photography gig lined up. It’s something you’ve always wanted to do. Figured now’s as good a time as any.”

You were stunned, your eyes widening. “What-? How-When? How did you even know I wanted this now?”

Jude’s eyes twinkled with mischief. “I’ve been paying attention, love. You think i haven't notice your Pinterest boards? Or your amazon wish list?”

You laughed, a genuine smile spreading across your face. “I don’t even know what to say. This is amazing.”

Jude squeezed your hand gently. “You don’t have to say a thing. Just remember, you’re brilliant, and you deserve all the good things. And if you ever leave me for a glamorous photographer life, just make sure to give me a shout-out in your interviews.”

You playfully nudged him. “Oh, so you’re worried I’ll become too famous for you?”

Jude grinned. "If that means sharing a bit of the limelight, so be it.”

You leaned into him, feeling a mix of relief and affection. “I can’t believe how lucky I am to have you.”

Jude wrapped his arms around you. “I’m the lucky one. Seeing you happy is what matters to me. Now let’s enjoy the rest of the night. And if dinner turns into a burnt mess, at least we’ll have a laugh about it.”

Jude’s comforting presence and playful banter started to lift the weight of the day, bringing a renewed sense of hope and connection. His support and Brummie humor made the evening feel a lot brighter and more manageable.

[skyfallscotland]

The OFFICIAL...no I'm just kidding lmao. My chapter twenty-seven (Xaden's POV) community discussion post. Spoilers below the cut ✨

🌟 Ok let's start with the biggest glaring inconsistency—Xaden implying that he and Liam were taken in and trained by Lewellen.

EXCUSE ME? Rebecca????? You said they were taken in by Duke Lindell, that's what you told me! You mean I slaved away over a map creating a whole backstory and character for this fucking guy and now he doesn't even exist?? I'm????

This changes the whole game as far as I'm concerned, like there's a big difference between them being raised by some random loyalist we've never heard of and the guy who took their duchy or whatever and is now in charge of the whole kingdom? I don't know how to take this seriously either because like...that's very much not away from prying eyes, how is this guy, who's a political figure training them while also maintaining his supposed loyal status to the kingdom?

ALSO, I have a damn map, Lewellen is WAY far from Aretia, so how on earth were they going there? I'd assumed maybe Lindell was living somewhere closer, but if we're saying it's Lewellen now...what the fuck, Rebecca?

🌟 Ok. Next topic. LIAM 😭😭😭 I can't, I can't handle the pair of them on a page together. He's exactly how we fanon'd him in Xaden's presence alone an I need a moment. "Was it us?!" I'm ???? I cry. 😭 I might actually write some angsty Violiaden after that.

🌟 Next order of business. HE LOVES HER. Why is he saying he loves her so many times? I love simp Xaden, but he's so sure of himself, but he refuses to fucking tell her for another year? What the FUCK Xaden???? 🤯😭 I do not like this for him. For her. For me. Nope. Love him though, truly, fr.

🌟 The Imogen dagger delivery is exactly what we all hypothesised but in this instance it does feel very retconned. Like I'm fine with it but also an 'Imogen's unwell' line in the original novel wouldn't have gone astray, so personally I'm not sold this was planned all along but I'll roll with it. I feel like the info about how the wards work and how someone had to have taken them down from within the keep also supports this being a retcon/something forgotten about or not fleshed out yet from the original book. Again though, it's fine.

🌟 Let's talk about DAIN. Why are we saying someone helped the fliers from the inside and took down the wards and then saying Dain is suspiciously out of breath and slower than normal? Why are we doing that? Rebecca???? 👁👄👁

🌟 Xaden: Violet's going to bolt, I don't know how I'll ever stop her even though I'm 6ft tall and I picked her up and carried her five seconds ago. Oh, I know! I'll kiss her!

🌟 Sgaeyl!!!! I love her so much my sassy queen! And did she basically say she loves Tairn? Yes, she did 😭 They're the best, your honour!

Thoughts? Feelings? Discuss!! (please) ⬇

[starchaserwrites]

@jegulus-microfic / february 18: pet / word count: 572 cw: foul language and violent behavior

James doesn't easily get annoyed, but his biggest pet peeve is people who do not say hello when they arrive at a place, so every time it's his turn to be in charge of the till at the cafe where he works, he struggles to control the twitch in his eye. When the next customer only mutters "venti iced americano, hurry" without even looking up from his phone and throws the money on the counter, he just puts on his best customer service smile and clenches his fists.

Not even five minutes have passed since the order was placed but the man in his early forties is tapping his fingers loudly on the delivery counter and alternating between staring at his watch and at James insistently. Fortunately, there aren't too many customers at this time of day, so Lily and Mary don't take too long to get the man's order ready.

"Is it too fucking hard to make a good fucking drink? I asked you for iced and this is lukewarm!" says the man in a voice loud enough to silence the café that was previously echoing with the soft conversations of customers.

Under normal circumstances James would probably have explained that all that needs to be done to make the drink colder is simply to stir it, but putting on his best smile he offers a "Oh, sorry about that. We'll redo it!" the customer is always right and that shit, right?

So when the drink is handed to him for the second time and the man literally spits the sip he took on Mary, James is ready for a confrontation.

"Are you an idiot or some kind of mentally retarded? This doesn't taste like fucking anything! You bunch of morons were dropped on your heads when you were babies. And you pair of bitches..."

Just as James is about to leap over the counter and punch this asshole, the man is pushed and cornered against the wall in the blink of an eye.

"Can you shut the fuck up?" says Regulus, one of the regulars who comes almost every day after work, shaking the man by the collar of his shirt with his ringed hands. And if James always notices how he sits at the table closest to the counter, and they constantly exchange glances it's nobody's business.

"But-"

"I don't give a shit, you've been throwing a tantrum this whole time and I won't take it anymore so get the fuck out of here this very second or I'm going to shove what's left of your coffee so deep up your ass to see if you can finally taste it." Regulus continues before pushing him against the wall one last time and letting him go.

The lovely customer starts to walk slowly towards the exit, but halfway there he turns around as if to say something.

"I promise they'll be finding your remains for the next four months if you don't walk out that door now," the silver-eyed man says before the forty-year-old can add anything else. The thing is, he says it so menacingly, like he really means it, that James feels weak in the knees.

Physical or verbal violence isn't supposed to be attractive, but this may have awakened something in James.

So please, no one judge him when a few hours later he ends up tangled in his bed from head to toe with Regulus.

[physalian]

Writing Tone #2: Avoiding Manufactured Sincerity

There’s a scene in season 5 of My Hero Academia where two beloved teachers have been brought to some high security prison to interrogate a captured villain that turns out to be a brainwashed childhood friend of theirs. The scene is really dramatic, these two teachers are screaming at this guy, heartbroken, and when I saw the episode (shortly before quitting the entire show mid-episode over how bored I was) I was not at all as outraged and horrified as they were.

It was so tonally jarring, and so unfounded within the plot, that it was almost uncomfortable to watch. The villain they’re interrogating isn’t unfamiliar, but the plot-twist-surprise childhood friend is a stranger no one but these two care about.

I didn’t care, couldn’t empathize with why they were upset, knew nothing about their relationship with the guy beyond the ham-handed flashbacks given right that moment. I wasn’t prepared to mourn the loss of this random character, wasn’t primed ahead of time with the idea that this was a possibility to dread the scene before it happened. I was just waiting for it to be over and when it finally was, the impact it had on me was a resounding: Well that was weird. Now back to the plot.

Unfounded sincerity is the uncomfortably ugly step-sibling of plots that are starved of sincerity—look at most of Phase 4, but really, starting with Thor: Ragnarok in the MCU. Many Marvel properties are afraid to embrace the emotional moments and resort to bad jokes to laugh at themselves before the audience can laugh at them. Because how dare a late-stage superhero story about mythical gods be at all sincere in its relationships, its quiet moments, its tragedies. Nope, time for jokes.

Unfounded sincerity is when a story goes far harder with the drama, the love-declarations, the angst, the humor, where it’s trying really hard to convince the audience to care and it just isn’t working.

This happens when arguments start out of nowhere, as well, when characters explode at each other in a heated screaming match that hasn’t been left to fester for nearly long enough, undercooked and hard to swallow.

This happens when characters fall suddenly, madly in love with each other with zero dubious intervention to explain away the sudden passion.

It happens particularly when characters care a whole heck of a lot about someone the audience doesn’t, at the expense of characters the audience is invested in.

It happens when characters have emotional breakdowns and start crying over what ends up reading like spilled milk. When stoic and strong characters break over something they normally would never, for ~drama~.

This is usually both a tone and pacing issue, and a serious case of telling. The author hasn’t done any of the work ramping up a situation or relationship for proper delivery of these emotionally charged moments that are written like critical character beats we’re supposed to care deeply about.

So how does this happen?

1. The author *really* wants this scene, but writes it too early into the story

Unless there’s foul play involved, or this is a romantic comedy that isn’t supposed to be a realistic and healthy depiction of how romance works, characters suddenly declaring love for each other at the cost of their own well-being, their own character arc and journey, and their other motivations can be very frustrating to read.

But the author wants to get to the Good Stuff, so they coast on the “male + female leads = relationship” expectation without writing the why (and so ensures the rise of so many gay ships in the process). Or the male + male leads” or what have you.

2. The author cannot fluidly change tone and characters explode, instead of simmer

An argument that comes out of nowhere can really take your audience out of a scene. Your characters suddenly look ridiculous and your audience can’t follow what’s going on or why they’re so upset. This is different than a character exploding seemingly out of nowhere, but who we know has been building resentment for dozens of pages and loses it over something otherwise inconsequential.

These scenes are painfully, obviously there for manufactured drama and don’t feel natural. These characters don’t feel like people, but playthings, action figures manipulated by the hands of the author.

3. The characters involved are underdeveloped

As in the My Hero scene mentioned above, of the three characters in the scene, the “friend” we’re supposed to care about is a non-entity. The two teachers could have lost their minds over this guy’s sudden death, or the reveal that he turned traitor, or that he murdered younglings and puppies and kittens, to the same emotional impact, because we don’t care about this guy (or, I don’t, at least. I didn’t, and shouldn’t have to read the manga).

You can of course have characters who grieve non-entities, like the fridged wife trope. The difference is the audience knows we’re not supposed to know or care about that lady and the character she never was. This happens pre-plot, not mid-season 5. The frigid wife is the catalyst for the character we then come to know, not a character whose death radically changes our heroes from the people we’ve already established.

4. The tonal jump is just too extreme from the established rules of the story

Abrupt changes in tone can be very tricky to pull off, and almost always fail when it surrounds an abrupt shift in character dynamics (as opposed to something more plot-related). As in, your lighthearted comedy suddenly stops the plot so two characters can scream at each other, when this level of emotional charge hasn’t been established as a possibility.

Or the aforementioned emotional breakdown that just leaves audiences uncomfortable like the awkward friend trying to soothe a weeping companion.

—

Unfortunately, the fixes to these situations are either delete that entire scene, or go back and do a lot of rewriting so there’s enough build-up to justify its existence. Go back and write in that simmering resentment, all the little frustrations, a pre-existing tension within the relationship that is always primed to snap.

Absence makes the heart grow fonder and there’s a reason the “slowburn” is so popular. Setting out from the beginning to write a fast-paced, passionate romance tells your readers to expect exaggerated displays of emotion.

My favorite musical is Moulin Rouge. This movie is insane. Everyone is hyperbolically emotional and nothing is half-assed. The dances, the belting singing, the costumes, set-design, editing, the declarations of love– they’re all dialed up to 11. So characters screaming their love or rage from the rooftops is a *lot* but you’re prepared for it from the opening scene, knowing exactly what kind of movie this is.

Even if you don’t start your story with the level of drama it will eventually reach, there should still be some sort of progression when it comes to character drama.

Last Airbender didn’t open episode 2 with the emotional intensity of Zuko and Azula’s last Agni Kai… but it did show you that this isn’t just a lighthearted comedy in episode 3, with the reveal of Gyatso’s body and Aang’s violently emotional reaction.

Speaking of episode 3, they didn’t throw in Gyatso out of nowhere. We know from the show so far that a) Aang is the last of his kind, and b) he doesn’t know this. Everything leading up to this reveal is lighthearted, sure, but with that undercurrent of dread, waiting for Aang to see for himself, waiting for that other shoe to drop.

So some things to keep in mind are:

Prime the audience with dropping that first shoe, make them aware of the building tension (romantic, aggressive, grief, or otherwise), even if not all the characters are aware.

Build that tension. If your characters will eventually explode, let them be mildly irritated first, then annoyed, then frustrated, then angry, then raging until they can’t contain it anymore.

Make sure every party involved in this dramatic moment is someone the audience actually cares about, not just someone they’re told to care about.

TL;DR: Don’t pull the trigger prematurely. It’s most obvious with suddenly passionate arguments, characters flinging insults and hurts the audience isn’t prepared for and doesn’t know about, in effort to move the plot along before it’s fully cooked.

So unless there’s some drugs or fairy magic involved, or one of these characters has a gun to their head forcing them to do this right now, people don’t just explode in a rage without some buildup first. People can explode in a rage over a seemingly inconsequential and unrelated thing, but they’re likely already upset and this one little thing is the final straw. Audiences love the anticipation of what that final straw will be, and whether the explosive drama is rage or romance, “slowburn” is immensely popular for a reason.

[vibhutihospitals]

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[caitchercatlady]

Sleeping Over at Ramshackle w/Jade & Floyd

*I'm so sorry that I posted this so late. I've been dealing with some life stuff these past few weeks, and that's given me a hard time with writing this story. I hope you guys enjoy it now that I've managed to post it in time.

Image credit @mostroloungeofficial

The last time Jade and Floyd came to Ramshackle, they nearly trashed the place for Azul’s new venture. Now that the dorm is safe in your possession, it's much more relaxing without the tweels messing up everything. They're practically banned from staying for more than two minutes (although that within itself is generous of you).

One Friday, you encounter Azul and the tweels in the hallway. Azul asks for a huge favor from you. He explains that he’s making some renovations for the Monstro Lounge over the weekend, and the Leech brothers would greatly appreciate it if they can stay over at Ramshackle until the renovations are complete. You point out that the Lounge and the dorms are entirely unrelated, so why do the tweels need to stay with you?

Azul pulls you aside and tells you a story about the last time he let Floyd and Jade Leech be in charge of Monsto Lounge work. “It cost more than the budget, and I want to keep my profits in the black. Do you catch my drift, Prefect?” Between the two of you, Azul is indeed the business professional. He sees your scrunching face of hesitation when Azul offers up a deal you couldn’t refuse. “If you do this favor for me, I assure you that every and any mess that comes from those two shall be cleaned and reimbursed.”

“How can I know that you’ll keep that promise?” you ask.

“Oh, (Y/N), you break my heart. You still don’t trust me?”

You give him the death glance.

Azul snaps up a contract in mid air and lets you read every detail to make sure that he wasn’t going to pull the rug under you later.

The evening falls onto Night Raven, and as you finish preparing two guest rooms (unsure if even the boys wanna share a room), you get the expected knock at the door. You don’t expect anything normal to come from these twins, and you’re scared to find out what they’re up to.

Jade thanks you for opening your dorm to them in their time of need. Floyd also thanks you, but as chill as he is, Floyd is the first to make himself comfortable by going into your kitchen to see what you got to eat. This puts Grim into protective mode over his tuna cans (not that Floyd wants canned tuna anyway). This doesn’t become a bigger problem as Jade reminds Floyd to be respectful while they are guests.

“You have to ask permission before you go scavenging like a catfish in someone’s fridge,” Jade explains without an inch of scolding in his tone.

“Yeah, yeah, sorry, Shrimpy. May I scavenge through your fridge?” replies the other brother.

You clarify that you actually have ordered some delivery for dinner, so the tweels can indulge in whatever is on the kitchen counter.

“See, Floyd? When you are patient, you get rewarded,” says Jade with an all-too-pleasant grin.

The tweels thank you as they treat themselves to your offerings. You help Grim crack open a tuna can as they eat, and you can see that Floyd is still moody.

“Aye, Jade. You know what would perk up this dower, old place?”

Jade taps his chin. “Perhaps a bit of music? What do you think, (Y/N)? Would you mind some music?”

You guess that music wouldn’t be a problem, but you soon remember that you don’t know what music the Leech twins have in mind. However, it’s too late to go back on your word because the moment Floyd activates his smartphone, the biggest blast of orchestral jazz explodes from the speaker.

Grim nearly falls off the kitchen counter. You grasp your heart, telling yourself not to have a heart attack in the center of Ramshackle dorm since you and Grim know that the floors aren’t going to rescue you as you fall. The twins are dancing with each other in the living room as if it’s the happiest of times. Maybe that’s a good thing as they have no ill will against Azul. Floyd’s mood is improved by the proof of his loud scat singing. Not even Kalim parties this much at Ramshackle.

“(Y/N), don’t be such a wallflower,” Floyd coxes. “Dance the stiff away!”

Jade stretches his arm, takes you by the hand, and pulls you into the small yet blaring celebration of…Seven knows what.

Grim goes running up the stairs, shouting, “If you need me, I’m gonna protect my ears!” along the way.

Despite your mind spinning, letting yourself loose isn’t such a terrible thing after all. In fact, sharing your dance time with both casually dressed tweels increases the fun. All three of you don’t even make it upstairs for the rest of the night.

[eepyfaggoth]

Job Opportunity in Boston

Hello! I'm a multiply disabled medically complex wheelchair user in greater boston who relies on caregivers and i am hiring! No experience necessary, just be resourceful, patient, covid cautious, dependable, and an enthusiastic learner. Especially looking for other fat people! Hoping for someone who drives but I am accessible via the T.

Turning to tumblr as a bit of a hail mary because i am having a really hard time finding someone who can do the job, show up, and also be normal to me as a fat disabled queer through local channels, and i have one worker now who comes as often as they can, but ive been without adequate support for a while. i would appreciate anyone and everyone who reblogs, to possibly get this in the eyes of someone who might be a good fit! welcoming advice as well!

I have the sweetest esa cat

Pay is 19$ an hour funded by masshealth, i have 30-35 hours available and you can work as many or as few of those as you want

Im still very much trying to figure out life with my disability and how to function and organize and communicate my needs and navigating what I'm emotionally able to accept help with, but in general I need help with housework, cooking, managing my medical care, pushing me in my manual wheelchair, sometimes help using a slide board, and I'm still trying to figure out what things look like on a daily basis. going places with or for me. helping me get in the car, helping me pack a backpack if i need to go somewhere. getting mail, helping clean and pick things up off the floor, organizing medical appointments, making phone calls, unpacking medical equipment. emptying a pee jar. Helping me manage/charge medical equipment. I have a hard time lifting my arms a lot because of really bad neck issues, and i have really limited stamina. Putting drinks in smaller bottles, taking packaging off things. I also kind of need help with dressing and bathing sometimes but I have a really hard time coping with that and so like. That happens when it happens and is what it is. I have some systems for washing my hair without actually getting in the shower. I have variable conditions so things might not be the same all the time, on a good day I might be able to sit up for a while and do tasks, on a bad day it's very hard to bring a drink to my lips.

There's no physically lifting my entire body, but I do need someone who can lift the 50lb largest piece of one my wheelchairs and standard everyday heavy stuff like groceries or boxes of protein shakes. And sometimes my limbs. There's also likely things like reaching and stooping, alas, I drop a lot of things on the floor. I have a lot of allergies and some tasks are more complicated than they otherwise might be, and Im really hoping to find someone who can pay attention to detail and is comfortable working through things slowly.

i have a lot of allergies so memory and attention to detail are important, as is a willingness to wash hands frequently. i have a disorder called mast cell activation syndrome and frankly the precautions i need to take feel absurd

covid precautions:

Masks required! I'm hoping to find someone who also takes other precautions.I also need someone to be careful about monitoring yourself and not coming in if you are sick with *anything* because I *will* get it and it *will* be a multiple week ordeal where I likely experience dangerous symptoms. must be able to test weekly and mask with a k/n95 while around me. ideally be someone who lives low risk (masks everywhere, doesnt attend crowded events / spaces, etc). cannot be someone with a high risk lifestyle (has kids in primary school, unmasked in food service areas regularly, etc) we can talk about my precautions too, right now i havent left my house in weeks, i have two way masking with my current pca, and occasionally an unmasked delivery person will come into my apartment though id like to work on solutions to this. i need to like. revamp my precautions. but i dont go anywhere without a mask, i only have unmasked contact with another person if someone comes into my apartment and i cant get to my mask, i am eating while my pca is here and they are masked, or when my also homebound and careful partner is visiting. if someone was working for me more than 25 hours a week and lived a very low risk life i might be open to having a bubble with them during non surge times with precautions like air filters?

i really try to create a calm and positive work environment, though i have complex and real needs and i've been struggling to survive for a long time and i am very overwhelmed. i care deeply about a humanizing workplace, and i am looking for someone who will care enough about my needs as a human being to take the job seriously even though i am as flexible as possible.

About me, in case that helps?

Fat genderfluid dyke. I'm on my third medical leave from college (like a champ!) but I study medical anthropology, disability studies, and linguistics. I don't get out much or do a lot right now because of my illness but i like fiber arts, music, I don't do tons because I spend most of my time in bed but im really passionate about mutual aid, it's been a a minute but I've been wanting to get back into d&d, I think the magicians is the greatest work of television ever written, and I've been trained as a clown and want to try stand up (well, sit down) comedy at some point. I'm a bit neurotic but very self aware. trying to sort out anticonsumerism in the context of my disability. i value creativity, resourcefulness, autonomy, and consent.

(if this went like really well, i am also potentially looking to apply for housing assistance with accommodation for a room for a live in aid, but probably in western mass. idk)

Gwen :) he/they

Message for details

[eternity-hospital]

Best Gynaecologist & Obstetrician in Indirapuram

Discover the key factors to consider when choosing the best gynaecologist and the best obstetrician in Indirapuram, From qualifications and experience to reputation and patient comfort, this guide outlines everything you need to ensure expert care for your reproductive health, pregnancy, and overall well-being. Learn about the importance of personalized, compassionate care and find trusted professionals in Indirapuram who are dedicated to supporting women through every stage of their health journey.

[wordsbyrian]

First Skateboard - Alex Morgan x Reader

Summary: A sequel to "Skater Girl" in which R (a professional skateboarder) gets a skateboard for Charlie.

A/N: I actually had the idea for this before the idea for Skater Girl but I felt like I had to write that one first. Yeah, enjoy. Also, all mentioned skateboarders are real people except the photographer.

Ever since you reconnected with Alex a few years ago, life has been going pretty well for you. On both a personal and professional level.

Professionally, you’ve dropped some of your best video parts ever, you brought home a couple of X Games, SLS, and Dew Tour medals and you backside-flipped El Toro before they tore it down.

In your personal life, you and Alex got married a few years ago and have since had a daughter Charlie.

Plus, you haven’t even been tempted to break your sobriety since that day you saw Alex at the bottom of the hill.

Good things all around.

And they were only going to get better because Reynolds, your close friend and the man in charge of Baker skateboards, called last week and told you to expect a surprise with your next board and merch delivery.

A delivery which just arrived.

Flinging the front food open, you shout thanks to the mailman before grabbing both boxes and heading inside, the door slamming shut behind you.

Normally, all of your sponsorship deliveries get taken directly to either your car, for immediate use or to your “skate cave” (the garage) to be out of the way until you need them.

This time you carry them straight to the living room, where Alex and Charlie are hanging out.

“Hey Chuck,” you say, getting the attention of both your wife and daughter, “Uncle Andrew sent you a present.”

“Present?”

“Yea, little dude,” you confirm, setting both boxes down, “a present.”

As Charlie walks to you on slightly unsteady feet, you have to do your best to not laugh at the look on Alex’s face.

You know what she’s thinking, of course, the last time Reynolds sent you anything for Charlie, it was a baby dirt bike that was immediately banished to the garage.

Although, he’s assured you it's nothing that out there this time around.

Dropping to the ground beside the boxes, you shoot her what you hope is a reassuring smile before using a key to slice the tape and help Charlie open them.

When she does get the first open, you have to hold back another laugh because sitting on top of all the fresh merch is a bottle of Tylenol with the words “For Alex - Chill Pills” written on it.

Grabbing them before Charlie can, you toss them to their designated recipient.

“Looks like the Boss sent you something too, babe,” you say, carefully watching her face for any reaction.

It takes her a moment but eventually she just sighs deeply, putting the bottle somewhere Charlie can’t reach it, and speaks, “All of your friends are idiots, especially Reynolds.”

“I’ll make sure that I let him know you said that.”

Looking back down, you’re unsurprised to see Charlie already reaching into the box and pulling out some of the items.

It’s mostly shirts with the latest designs on them and you see a few packs of stickers and some hats in there as well.

Dropping one of the hats on the toddler’s head so that it covers her eyes, you hurriedly hide the stickers, sliding them underneath your leg. The last thing you want is for Alex to be mad because you let Charlie put one somewhere it shouldn’t go.

By the time she removes the hat, all stickers are out of sight and you’re already opening the box containing the decks.

Once it’s open you see exactly what Reynolds was talking about.

There sitting on top of the boards that you know are for you, is what has to be the smallest skateboard you have ever seen.

Smiling softly, you pass it to Charlie who immediately spins around to show Alex.

“Mommy,” she shouts, “Look what Uncle Andrew got me.”

The smile on Alex’s face is forced but she hides it well enough that Charlie can’t tell.

“That’s so cool, baby,” Alex says, “Why don’t you go put it in your room with your other toys.”

It takes a moment but Charlie does eventually run off to put the board away. You and Alex both stare after her silently waiting to see if she comes running back or if she gets distracted like she normally does.

When she doesn’t come rushing back, Alex immediately turns on you, face set in a hard glare.

“Seriously, Y/N,” she asks.

“What?”

“A skateboard? She’s not even three years old yet.”

“It’s just a board Alex, it’s perfectly safe,” you say calmly.

“You just got a cast taken off your arm last week.”

“That’s because I’m an idiot, Charlie isn’t going to be trying to drop in off roofs for a long time,” you try to explain, “Besides with me, Reynolds, and all the other guys, she’ll be perfectly safe.”

The look you get lets you know that your appeal isn’t working at all.

And if the look wasn’t enough to show you that Alex wasn’t moved by your words, what came out of her mouth surely is.

“I’m sorry that I don’t trust your idiot friends who nearly burned down their own warehouse to keep my daughter safe.”

Something about the way she says it pisses you off but the reasonable part of your brain knows that being angry isn’t going to make this conversation any easier.

So you take a moment, putting everything back in the boxes and grabbing them as you stand up.

“I’m gonna go put this stuff away,” you say, not looking at her, “Come talk to me when you remember that Charlie’s my kid too.”

“Y/N.”

You cut her off and continue walking away, “Seriously Alex, not now.”

A few weeks later, the incident is mostly forgotten, in that neither you nor Alex have brought it back up and have chosen to continue like it never happened.

At least that’s how you’ve been handling it until Alex walks into your bedroom one night after Charlie’s been put to bed with a concerned look on her face.

“What’s the matter,” you ask, setting your book down.

“The nanny canceled for tomorrow.”

“Oh shit.”

Alex has to hold back a smile as she rolls her eyes at your response and walks to the bathroom to get ready for bed.

“Yup,” she says, “And I can’t take her to training with me tomorrow, we have meetings in between our two sessions.”

“I’m kinda free in the morning, I’ve got a couple of calls with Nike and Red Bull,” you tell her, “the problem is the afternoon. Beagle and some of the guys are supposed to come down so we can get clips. Deadline’s coming up.”

You hear a groan followed by a light slight thump before Alex speaks again.

“Crap, can you take her with you,” she asks.

It’s your turn to grimace, the idea of having Charlie watch you and your friends practically throw yourself down stairs is not a very appealing one.

Seeming to sense your hesitation, Alex continues speaking, “You can bring the board Reynolds sent her and show her what you do for work.”

“Uh, what,” you say confused.

“Last week, Charlie said that I play soccer for work and that you take phone calls for work,” she says in a way of explanation.

“I’m not sure how that managed to change your mind about her skateboarding.”

It takes her another moment to respond and you just sit there staring waiting for her to finish brushing her teeth.

When she does, she walks back out of the bathroom and says, “You don’t think it’s weird that our daughter has no idea what you do for work? It doesn’t bother you?”

“Uh, no,” it sounds like a question even though you don’t mean for it to. “I’m 33 years old and I have no clue what either of my parents did for work when I was a kid. I think my dad might have been in the mob.”

“Can you be serious for 5 minutes, Y/N/N?”

“I think I’d die if I tried,” you say with a grin, “Might even be offed by my mob boss father.”

“You’re intolerable,” Alex says getting into bed.

“So I’ve been told,” you respond, “Just relax, I’ll take Chuck with me tomorrow. We’ll hang out with Beagle and the boys and everything will be cool.”

And for the most part, the majority of the next morning is cool, your calls go well and you manage to get all the details you need for the team tours hammered out.

The afternoon is when things take a slight turn.

First, Beagle and the guys showed up a little early, which normally wouldn’t have been a problem but Figgy walked into the house and immediately went to wake Charlie up from her nap.

Then you had to try and get a toddler and five grown men out of the house. It was only the promise of you buying lunch that convinces your friends and the promise of being taught to skateboard that convinces Charlie to head out to the van.

After that, it's back to smooth sailing.

You guys manage to knock out a few spots, everybody getting the tricks or lines that they’ve been working.

It’s at the final spot that you realize that maybe Alex was right about not having your friends around Charlie.

It all happens so suddenly too.

One second you’re slamming after yet again failing to laser flip down the Valencia 20 stair and the next you’re hearing a little voice saying, “Mama, you just got fucking broke off!”

And the only thought you have, while you’re laying there trying to catch your breath, is that it’s your fault really. You're the one that left Dickson and Theotis watching her while you tried this trick.

You don’t even have the energy to tell her not to say things like that, you need every last ounce of it that you do have to pull yourself back up the stairs to give the trick another go.

You speak only a few words on your way back up, “Thanks, Charlie. Beagle, I’ve got it this try, man.”

“Yeah, man, let’s get it,” the filmer shouts up at you.

It’s probably going to be your last shot to nail this trick, your body is aching, your shirt is torn, and you're pretty sure that you’ve got a couple of scrapes leaking blood and staining it.

So taking a deep breath, you begin pushing towards the stairs again.

Next thing you know, you're at the bottom of the stairs still on your board rolling away. Figgy, Dickson, and MIke, your photographer, are hooting and hollering, Theotis is skating after you holding Charlie, and Beagle is running behind you, camera still in hand.

Slowing to a stop, you let yourself be surrounded by your friends and take Charlie into your arms, you look at Beagle who speaks first.

“That’s the ender right there man, we start the part with that last slam and we have gold bro,” he says.

Before you have a chance to respond, Charlie speaks.

“Mama that was so cool,” she practically yells in your face, “Teach me how to do that?”

“Maybe we work on the basics like standing on the board first, and then work our way up to things like that,” you tell her, already fearing the repercussions from Alex. “Come let’s go ride for a bit while Figgy tries to kill this rail.”

“It’ll be gnarly.”

That night when you get home, you’re unsurprised to see that Alex is already there.

“Babe, we’re back,” you shout in greeting.

“In the kitchen.”

Making your way there, you’re quick to try and greet her with a kiss but you’re shocked when she leans away instead of returning your affection.

When you pout at her, she just rolls her eyes and says, “You smell, you’re covered in dirt, and,” she pauses, “Is that blood?”

“Might be,” you shrug, “Can I have my kiss now?”

You lean in again only to be stopped by a hand to the chest pushing you away.

“Go take a shower and then I’ll think about it,” she says.

Taking a step back you sigh, “Ugh fine. Charlie tell your mommy about all the stuff you did today.”

You begin walking away as your daughter begins to ramble. You make it halfway to your room when you hear it.

“And then we went to a school and Mama got fucking broke off when…”

You go running back to the kitchen shouting, “Charlie no!”

Alex glares at you the second you make it to the doorway.

“Y/N,” her voice is stern, “Why is our toddler cursing?”

“I’m sorry?”

“Never again, Y/N, never again.”

“Fair enough.”