#spent 5ish hours on this

[powdermelonkeg]

As Told by the Zonai: Skyward Sword Zelda

Tried my hand at drawing something, have some rough/messy concepts of Skyward Sword Zelda in her ceremonial outfit from the start of the game, but in Zonai style, plus a bonus version where she has Queen Sonia's palette.

[umbrvx]

[ @orvwomenweek ] lsk + family, regrets || day 5

[thebigoblin]

On The Dance Floor

tags: Not Scott McCall Friendly, Inspired by a Song, Oneshot, Alpha Derek Hale, Derek Hale Loves Stiles Stilinski, Stiles Stilinski Loves Derek Hale, Getting Together, The Hale Pack 2.0, Fluff, Minor Sheriff Stilinski/Melissa McCall

a/n: found this in my drafts tagged as "complete." figured i'll post this as a lil weekend treat <3 so cleaned it up a bit. i'll post this on ao3 tomorrow ig. also, real enemy is giving fics a fucking title.

now you can also read this fic on ao3.

White, marble tiles are eaten up by his black, formal shoes, his movements a little hurried as he veers off another corner of this event hall, almost braining himself against the wall. He stops just at the right moment, curses his clumsiness, and continues walking down the empty hallway to the dressing room. Everyone else is already in the main hall, sitting on the chairs, and Stiles Stilinski was there only moments before, so he knows they're waiting for the ceremony to begin.

Except, his dad is getting cold-feet, and despite Scott's attempts at being normal around his soon-to-be stepfather, and being a shoulder to lean on, the cold-feet is getting worse. At least, that's what Derek texted him, a short, concise depiction of whatever the hell must be happening in the dressing room.

And he trusts the Alpha, so he's quick in his steps and quicker with his breaths when he does open up the door and finds his dad pacing around the decently-sized room, his suit on, and complemented by a look of absolute panic on his face.

Scott is standing off to the side, like he always seems to be these days, and he's on the opposite side of Derek, far from him, like he always was and always will be. Some people don't change, and Stiles has learned that through experience he would rather not repeat.

"Dad," Stiles says, and that's all it takes for the dam to break. His dad gives a quick glance to Scott, his once-favorite son, and then pulls both Stiles and Derek towards him, his hands a little sweaty with dread. His dad knows being close and talking low wouldn't make a difference, but it's the principle of the thing, and for one split second he wonders what 16 year old him would have thought of this fact, of Derek being his dad's chosen son, and him himself being this close to his dad. And Scott not even being privy to the beauty of this relationship.

"What if she doesn't want me to? I love Melissa, I do, but Claudia- I don't know. I had a dream yesterday, Stiles, and she was just, she was just there! Just sitting on the beach, where I proposed to Melissa, right where Melissa was sitting. Was that, like, one of your supernatural dreams? Derek, you must know something about these sort of things. I don't think she wants me to—"

Derek cuts him off with a firm, "She wants nothing but happiness for you." He gives Stiles a quick look, asking silently if this is okay, because out of the four people in this room he's the only who didn't actually know her when she was alive. Stiles nods, and Derek continues, and his dad hangs onto every word out of Derek's mouth. "Today is a big day for you, and you're nervous, and it's okay, John. That dream was just a way for your subconscious to show up — this isn't the first time you've had this thought, have you?"

"No."

"That's it. Nothing more, nothing less. Just your nerves."

Stiles smiles softly at his dad. "Mom loves you," he moves forward to bring his dad in for a patented Stilinski hug. His voice is muffled when he insists, "She loved you when she was beside you, and she loves you now that she's watching over you. And she loves Melissa, too. I know she'll be the one smiling the biggest when you say 'I Do,' today."

His dad holds on for a little longer, and Stiles knows he's holding back tears when his dad says, "Okay," with a rough voice. He pulls back, takes a deep breath, pats Stiles on the shoulder twice, the way he always does, and gives a wobbly smile to Derek. He says, "Thanks, son," to both of them before looking at himself in the mirror.

"You look amazing."

"I'm so glad Lydia's mom was able to modify your original suit into this," Stiles adds to Derek's compliment, and Derek nods, repeats the sentiment of his dad looking amazing.

Scott chimes in, too, and his dad gives him a small smile. The relationship with him is strained, and if it was any other day Scott wouldn't even be in Beacon Hills, but it's his mom's wedding day, too. Stiles allows this one day, and if he didn't, he can't really stop Scott from being here. This is his hometown, too. They have their differences, yes, but they also have a past, together and also not, stemming from this same town.

Stiles has no right to where Scott does or does not go.

Derek, on the flip side, with his red eyes and ancestral blood running through his veins, roots sprouting from this town's soil, has no such qualms. Derek and Scott share a past, too, and it defines their present more than anything else could have.

Stiles' dad says he'll be out in just a minute, can they wait outside please, and all three of them step out. Once the door is closed, Derek turns to Scott.

"When are you leaving?"

Scott is instantly angry. He has always hated Derek, no matter the truth. Logic was always Stiles' friend first and Scott's second, and without Stiles, Scott is just a ball of emotions being hit by the bat of daddy and authoritative issues.

Derek has a right to know. It is his prerogative. This is his land, his territory, his packmate's wedding. Scott was banished — run off, really, and now he's back. Derek has a right to know when he'll leave, irrespective of Scott's hesitation to tell him.

But, the years have done Scott good. Instead of yelling, making a scene, he takes a breath in. Stiles wonders what or who his anchor is, and promptly decides it's not something he cares to know. He watches Scott get himself under control, enough that when he speaks his voice is almost emotionless.

All or nothing. That was what Scott was, and still is. He's changed, but not really.

"Mom leaves for her honeymoon tomorrow, and I need to take stuff from home."

Derek raises his right eyebrow. "That's not an answer."

Scott gives a tight smile. "It is if you just learn to stop when you should."

Before Derek can say anything, Stiles is taking the two steps to stand right beside his Alpha, disbelief coloring his face and words as he lets out, "Are you seriously threatening him?"

Scott just looks at him. The look is unreadable. It hurts, this distance between them, when Stiles remembers fantasizing about being not two feet apart on a porch in their late, late years, drinking to the years and cheers they must have had in their shared lives. Derek shakes him out of that thought with a gentle touch to his hand, their arms trapped between their bodies, and he relaxes.

Derek looks at Scott. His eyes turn red, brilliant red, and he orders, "Leave by Wednesday afternoon."

Today is Sunday.

And his dad's wedding day. His dad, who chooses this moment to come out, looking much better, and happier, and assured. He looks at the scene in front of him, the three of them, Scott on one side, alone. Him and Derek, side by side, on the opposite side of Scott.

He claps his hands.

"Who is ready to cry today?"

*

They all cry.

The ceremony is simple, but beautiful. The whole town is here, the wedding off their Sheriff, and the nurse who is so lovely, so kind. They are an inspiration, they all murmur, Derek tells him; second chances at love are rare, and this is beautiful, and who knew there exists beauty in the depths of tragedy?

His dad cries when he watches Melissa come down the aisle, Ms. Martin on one side and Scott on the other. Her best friend and her son, and for once, Stiles doesn't mind Scott's presence.

Melissa is smiling, eye to eye, her wedding gown fitting her perfectly.

She stands in front of his dad and says, "Oh, John," with such reverence, it's hard to not cry. Stiles has to put his hand in front of his mouth, but it's futile. Derek, the jerk, repeats those words, the ones he is hearing from every corner of the hall, and by the time Stiles has a dad and a stepmom officially, he's crying happy tears.

Lydia hugs him and tells him now it's his turn to find her mom somebody, too, and he agrees, only half-listening to her. He's staring at the big, gigantic grin on his dad's face, a matching one on Melissa.

Everyone congratulates him and the newlyweds, and then it's food and chatter and toasts, and everyone is surprised when Derek gives the first toast instead of Stiles, and Scott is supposedly not giving one at all.

Derek's toast is short, but no less lovely. He calls John a great man, one with utmost patience, and of course Derek would find a way to make a dig at Stiles; he says he has no clue how John and Claudia had strength enough to be patient with Stiles around, and that perhaps it is that tenacity, that will, that has brought about the proceedings of today. Of not giving up, even when the world is stacked against you. Of staying strong, in the face of everything falling apart. Of falling apart but coming back stronger, steadier. Of finding love after all of that. And coming from Derek, of all people, it means a whole lot, and Stiles' dad hugs Derek post-speech tightly.

When they pull apart, Derek says into the mic, but with eyes on Stiles' dad, "She's just as proud of you as Stiles is. As I am."

And then it's his turn to give a toast, and he's not sure how he can outdo Derek; as he stands up in front of the mic, he realizes he doesn't want to.

He gives a few funny anecdotes of his childhood, of how his dad taught him to always have hope, because good people get good things, even if it takes long. And how Melissa was always there, a second mom to him right from the start, and how much he loves her and is glad she's still in his life, despite the years, despite the circumstances. The crowd gets intrigued at that, aware of the distance between Scott and his mom, and Stiles too; all of Beacon Hills knows about the rift, but only a hand few know the cause of it as well. So, for him to mention the distance, to publicly acknowledge it, is a big thing.

He moves right the fuck on, makes jokes and smiles and cries, admits he'll always miss his mom, but that he'd always hoped, deep in his heart, that when the grief becomes tolerable he'd be the one to make the two of them marry each other.

"You got there first," he jokes, "Had the ring all picked out even before I could start trying to convince you to ask her out. Honestly, that might have been the second best decision you've ever made." None of them have to ask what the first was. It's obvious; Stiles knows his mom's wedding ring sits inside his dad's shirt, on a necklace, his own beside it.

Melissa gives a toast, too. She reminisces the first time she met Claudia, how they became friends, and how, at the time, it was impossible to imagine a life without her.

Before her little speech, to everyone this was her and John's day, but it's clear to them now that it's not just that. To the newlyweds it's a promise to Claudia; Melissa's once best friend and his dad's first love. To be happy. To live.

There's more hugs, more cheers, the champagne popping, and a quick, impromptu speech by Scott, who was fuming at being outdone like this by not just Stiles, but also Derek.

His speech is not bad, per se. Angry jerks of his chin, wild eyes and noticeable pauses. It's not bad. It just looks bad in comparison.

Stiles will definitely rot in hell for finding this funny, but at least he won't be the only one. The whole pack is trying not to laugh, and Stiles has to hide his own in the lapels of Derek's suit, who in turn hides his laughter in Stiles' hair.

Stiles feels bad, once or twice. But Scott made his bed and he's lying on it.

And then, after that, there's the first dance. There's the open dance floor and little kids asking Derek sweetly if he'll dance with them. He's their favorite, and it's adorable, and Stiles takes a thousand pictures.

Derek is in a sharp suit, and the juxtaposition of him dancing with young children, in princess dresses and printed suits — one kid had a yellow, minion-print suit, and honestly, that kid, Darren, pulled it off well — all colorful to his black shirt, black blazer, and black pants, is just so...

Good.

Derek's whole face is lit up, the golden glow of the lights all around them putting him in an ethereal spotlight, his eyes soft, mouth curved up, and nose adorably scrunched as he tries to decipher the babbling of a two-year-old.

The mom of the kid comes to get the boy, profusely apologizing, but Derek just smiles and says it's okay. It was no issue, it's okay, no need to apologize at all.

"Right," she says, eyes flicking between Derek and Stiles. "I'll let you get back to your partner then." And it's clear she means him.

Derek doesn't correct her, and neither does he. She leaves, and in this corner of the room, it's just them now. Most kids are tired, now, and most guests have left. It's mostly just the closest friends of Melissa and his dad, and the pack, of course, who are here.

Derek turns to him, his eyes still soft, which somehow get more soft when he looks at Stiles. It takes his breath away, and he lets out a squeaky, "Let's dance?" He's almost 25, the "adult" age according to the internet, and he still acts like a high school kid with a fucking crush.

Derek just makes him feel that way.

Derek, who is going to be 30 in less than a week, the big decade, the big, bad wolf. Derek, who blushes, his cheeks pinkish red behind his stubbled face, and puts out a hand.

Stiles takes the offered hand, his heart dancing inside his ribcage. And onto the stage they go, to the applause of the pack, and his dad's, "Finally!"

Stiles blushes, too. It's just their luck to get on the floor when it's a slow dance song.

Derek wastes no time, like he can't think or he'll explode, and puts his left hand on Stiles' waist, his right on Stiles' shoulder. Stiles puts both his hands around Derek's neck, and the alpha leans into the touch. This, the blatant trust, the welcomeness of it, is what bolsters Stiles.

They move to the slow beat, their eyes on each other's like white on rice, and everything else just doesn't exist. It's just them, and only them. No one else exists, not when they do, this close.

They move closer still, their hips touching, their foreheads against each other's. Noses touching close.

"Hey," he says, and grins when Derek does.

"Hey," Derek says back, so close that Stiles feels in his bones the word shape itself in Derek's mouth.

The music changes, then, and Stiles recognizes this one from the very first beat of it. Of course he does. It's Derek's favorite song ever.

"Did you bribe the DJ to play Apocalypse?"

Derek laughs, a quick, short one, and Stiles watches the movement of it, the beauty of Derek Hale laughing. "What if I did?"

Before Stiles can say anything, the line, "kisses on the forehead of lovers," comes on, and Derek takes a step back, only to kiss Stiles on the forehead.

Stiles' breath stops in his throat. Derek closes the gap between them again, and sways them to the beat. Stiles just follows his lead, his face having stuck itself on an astonished smile, and by the time the song is over he's just hugging Derek, tight, close, forever and ever and ever close.

Derek hums the song right in his ear, and it's perfect, Derek's breath on him, his grip, his eyes on him.

Stiles takes a step back and just looks into Derek's eyes.

"Hey," Derek says softly. They don't need words. Just this, a moment to themselves, where nothing but them exists.

Stiles doesn't even have a clue what song is playing. All he hears is Derek. His unspoken trust and devotion, his soul half of Stiles', Stiles' own soul half of Derek's. Their mingling breaths, because they're still close, just a hair apart from being one.

"Hey," he repeats, and they're both moving forward, Derek's hands on Stiles' waist, his own around Derek's neck, and they kiss.

It's gentle and slow, like time doesn't exist, could never take from them, this moment infinite, their love defying the laws of the universe and stopping time.

Because this is it. This is love, theirs and theirs only, part of its definition somewhere in the noises Stiles is making, part of it in the way Derek is touching him, moving his hands around Stiles' body, up and down, up and down, caressing him close and closer still.

Because isn't that what love is? Finding meaning in another?

After what feels like a lifetime, Derek pulls back. "Your lips, my lips, apocalypse," Derek hums against his lips, and they're so close, one breath two beings close, Stiles feels the movement of Derek's lips against his.

He lets out a small laugh. Derek swallows it down with another kiss, this one urgent, and time stills, again. Nothing exists, but this, and this moment only. Them. Arms around one another, devouring lips, tight grip, closed eyes, and peace.

They pull apart, foreheads resting against each other's, and Stiles opens his eyes to Derek's soft gaze. On him, through him, for him. He smiles, takes Derek's hand in his, dislodging it from its previous position on Stiles' waist, and brings it up to kiss the open palm of this man, who is radiant in this moment, glowing, almost, with happiness.

"Best day ever," Derek says, and he hums only the tune this time, and this time, Stiles sings the lyrics.

"Your lips, my lips, apocalypse."

"We did think it would take, like, a severe life or death situation for you two to get your shit together."

The sudden reality of a third person existing, and slowly, the reality of them being in the middle of a public dance floor in front of people has them flinching and moving apart.

"Kind of glad that didn't actually occur," Lydia continues, unperturbed.

"Definitely glad," his dad agrees.

"I do prefer you two getting together on my wedding day instead of my ER room, actually." Melissa adds.

Derek and Stiles both stare at their pack — Lydia, grinning eye to eye, a wine glass in her hand. John and Melissa beside her, their hands clasped, laughing at Derek and Stiles' wide-eyed gaze. Isaac clicking a hundred pictures of them, Erica with her full-red lips and a plate filled with food. Boyd beside his wife, hand on her shoulder, and Jackson leaning against Danny, smirking at the two of them. Cora is looking at them, that Hale look of absolute mischief. Kira and Malia have probably gone home — and nope, here they come, with a...

"Is that a banner?" Derek asks, aghast, and Stiles is right there with him. Because that fucking banner reads STEREK WINS.

"What the fuck?"

Peter comes out from the shadows, and Stiles tries to be happy about the fact that his appearance surprised everyone else present too, not just him and Derek.

"Thanks for making me win the bet. Really appreciate the $5."

"Bet?!"

His dad answers his unasked question. "We all figured you two would get together sometime during our wedding. Maybe during or after. It was just a matter of when." He points to where Malia and Kira are putting the banner up, right beside the one that says, JUST MARRIED!!! "Most of us figured the week following today, but Peter, Lydia, and Kira are the only ones who doubled down on the day being today itself."

"We're going to share our anniversary!" Melissa exclaims, happy.

Derek and Stiles just stare.

Derek turns towards him. He cocks an eyebrow up. Stiles nods with quick movements of his head.

"We, uh, are gonna go," Stiles says to the hall at large. "Have fun with your... bet, I guess. Dad, Melissa, love you guys, the rest of you, fuck off." Everyone laughs.

"We'll talk about anniversary plans later, Melissa," Derek says, and Stiles finger guns at her before realizing how stupid it looks.

Luckily, Derek picks him up, fireman carry style, and swoops him away.

Stiles groans against Derek's back. "Doofuses. Serious doofuses."

"Us or them?"

Stiles thinks. "All of us," he decides. "All of us, Derek. How the fuck were we so stupid to wait so long to get together?" They don't need to really discuss it — the kiss was just a precursor. "And why the fuck do they have to be so... ugh."

"They're still laughing," Derek says, as if that would help. "Doofuses," he agrees.

And then they're in the Jeep, Derek's camaro probably to be taken home by Isaac, and they're alone and when Derek drops him gently on the seat, Stiles lunges up to kiss.

"You make me fucking feral," Derek admits against his lips, and hey, Stiles loves where this is going. "I love you."

The words are nothing, really, but an arbitrary combination of English lexicon. But there is a meaning it — so many touches, so many moments shared between the two of them. Time spent in presence or in thoughts. All of it, leading up to this. These three words that make Stiles giddy.

"I love you too, and we really were doofuses."

"Wanna be doofuses on my bed?"

"Do you even have to ask?"

Stiles speeds it out of the parking lot of the event hall, and they do, in fact, act like doofuses on Derek's bed.

They make-out, they throw down their clothes, and they pour out their hearts with every touch, every caress, every moan; they kiss and laugh and confess, touch and worship and love.

They map out each other's bodies and lean in, snuggle, and sleep.

If all apocalypses could be so lovely, it would be great, really.

[ghoulangerlee]

im so sleepy you guys but im doing okay and i love you all <3

[2lim3rz]

I'm never playing a fucking druid again because I'm too much of a animal nerd

this is a joke i love this

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

WIBTA if I start giving some very *very* Christian family members religious pamphlets from non-Christian religions as gifts?

To be clear, I am writing this while firmly believing I'm NTA but I am angry and don't trust my own judgment too much right now.

Background and Players: My Son (19) was adopted out as a baby by his incubator behind (my husband, 40) his father's back. He was abandoned at 4 by his adopted family because of behavioral issues related to what his incubator was putting into her body while she was pregnant with him, and went into foster care with people I will call Amom and Adad. Adad is a pastor in his 90s and Amom is a pastor's wife in her 80s. When Son was 13 and I had been with Husband for 5ish years, we had been told (by someone from his incubator's family but we didn't know that at the time) he was non-verbal and "mentally an infant" and that trying to pull him out of the routine he had would just be incredibly harmful to him, so we had given up hope of finding him and having a relationship with him. We got a phone call one day, a worker who was looking for a medical history for Son. Husband spent close to 3 hours on the phone with her, answering questions and asking anything he could squeeze in. Turns out, we had been lied to about his mental health just... completely. He's impossible to shut up and he graduated high school last year despite, you know, *gestures vaguely at everything* and I am incredibly proud of him. Half an hour after that call ended, she called back and told us Son might be interested in meeting us, was it okay for her to pass on our contact info. A month later, Son, Amom, Adad, Husband and I were sitting in a restaurant together and a month after that we went to their place for a week to spend Christmas with them. This is when they informed us that they had finalized his legal adoption a couple of weeks earlier. 2 years after that, my QPP moved in with us, and another year later 16 year old Son asked if he could move in with us. He still does.

The Issue: Son wants a continuing relationship with Amom and Adad, but due to the previously mentioned substances used by his incubator, he has memory and time management issues so I have to regularly remind him to contact them. I have no problem doing this, but the contact we have had with them over the last few years has soured me on their company. I've got no problem reminding Son to contact them and organizing rides for him to visit (usually QPP and I driving him, the trip is a couple of hours each way) but I'd rather never speak to them myself if it can be avoided. It didn't start out this way, but over the years they have made it very clear that they don't respect anyone else's beliefs. Not just us, like there was one night where they were going off about some Danish surgeon saying publicly that he was Muslim first, Danish second, and they were trying to convince us to be terrified by that. The conversation ended awkwardly when Husband asked if Adad was Nationality or Christian first (because that's different you see). We have found books on the bookshelves in the guest room about how any kind of queerness at all is demonic possession, one of which they wrote. They talk about things like being sent on a mission by their god to save as many (and I hate that these are quotes) "brown heathen children" by making them Christians as possible (Son and his adopted siblings are all First Nations, Amom and Adad are as white as I am), or how Jewish people are evil for stopping Christians from claiming their suffering because "Jesus was a Jew so aren't all Christians also Jews?". Amom once spent a week trying to convince me to go to church with her and share the details of my childhood sexual abuse with the entire congregation because "it will show God you are ready to be forgiven". QPP is a shintoist and after they found that out, we started seeing more literature about the Japanese, specifically during WWII, around their house when we visited.

We have politely made it clear that we are not interested in Christianity, especially not their version. Multiple times. We thought it was finally over after Son had a meltdown at them at his graduation ceremony because he wanted JUST ONE conversation with them that wasn't about Jesus. He was in tears trying to explain that to them, and their response was to tell him he needed to come back to church so they could lay on hands and chase all the demons making him say these horrible disrespectful things to them out of him. He was supposed to stay with them for a few days to visit after that, but by the time I tracked him down and got him calm, he didn't want to go anymore. They seemed to stop after that, like they actually backed off and I think I got maybe 2 emails that didn't mention God or Jesus, not even a "God bless" in the sign off. We were optimistic. Son was late organizing it but we dropped him off (at his request, he's worried that Adad won't make it to next Christmas and wanted to see him) at their place on Boxing Day. We did not hang around, we did not send gifts, we didn't even reply to the Family Christmas Email (it had a video of a Jordan B Peterson rant embedded in it and I've told them before that we are not interested in anything that sack of hateful arrogance has to say please stop putting him in my inbox). We have done everything we can to make it clear that we do not want a relationship with them for ourselves, including outright directly telling them politely to their faces that we will not stop Son from seeing them but we don't feel comfortable around them and don't want a relationship with them for ourselves. Son came back with "gifts" from them - a study guide for a specific Bible book (I got John, Husband got Michael, QPP set his on fire before we saw who it was) and a bag of candy that looked like it came out of a thrift store (I got the same one they always get me, which I laughed off the first and second and third time and explained I couldn't stand them because my abuser used to give me one when he was done. Husband is diabetic and got York Patties. QPP actually got something decent though, $20 for gas).

I have managed to keep my "I'd rather you hadn't bothered actually" rantingvto Tumblr, which i don't think they even know exists, but I'm still pissed about the Bible crap as "gifts". I am considering changing tactics completely and being super friendly, mirroring their energy, and giving them the same treatment they've given us. I want to make excuses to visit so I can explain the finer points of shintoism and Celtic paganism in every single conversation. I want to give them books for gifts, books like The Tao of Pooh and The Gospel of The Flying Spaghetti Monster. I want to wrap cash in pamphlets about The Invisible Pink Unicorn and leave it on their fridge.

QPP and husband think I should give myself more time to calm down and just keep ignoring it and playing nice when I'm forced to play at all but like, IT'S BEEN 6 YEARS.

What are these acronyms?

[royallyprincesslilly]

Title: What We Did In The Dark {3}

Lewis Hamilton x Reader

Warning: Language, 18+ Mature Content, Angst, Small Time Jumps, Preggo Talk, Pregnancy Trope, Talk of Pregnancy Termination

Words: 6.4k

Summary: Neither of you planned any of it. You’d met by chance, and everything that happened after had to have been predestined. Now back to your own life, you find you have a special souvenir from your time in Mauritius and you have a tough decision to make.

As always, thank you for reading. I appreciate it!

As you enjoyed this, please, LIKE, COMMENT, REBLOG!!! ❤️❤️

***NOT Edited/Proofread***

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What We Did In The Dark {1}**** | What We Did In The Dark {2}* |

Chapter Three: Better An Ooops….

“Take it easy!”

You groaned as you dropped face first onto your couch and let yourself spread out across the cool white leather. After 3 days in the hospital, tens of tests, and plenty of round-the-clock vitamin treatments to get your body up to standard for your condition you were finally released with prescriptions and doctor's orders to take it easy for a few days. You’d planned to come home and jump on your laptop to finish some things up, but Villie decided to bring you in and make sure you were settled. You knew she’d done it for a reason, and it was to make sure you didn’t do what you wanted to.

“So what do you feel like for dinner?”

“I’m not hungry.”

“Tough shit. You’re going to eat. Your doctors said you need to take it easy, eat 3 balanced meals a day, and keep your stress levels down. So they took care of breakfast and lunch, now we order dinner.”

Villie dropped a heavy hand across your ass making you shout into the cushions of the couch. You shifted onto your side and rolled into a ball.

“What about the Halal spot that is on Blauvelt?”

You groaned and at the thought of all that meat covered with white creamy sauce, your stomach churned like the agitator inside of a washing machine. It didn’t feel right at all. Because of it, a ball of nausea formed in your chest, but your stomach grumbled.

“See, you’re hungry,” Villie assumed.

However, that was not the case. The thought of Halal made your stomach swirl like the letter “S��.

“No Halal.”

“Burgers, Mexican, Caribbean?”

None of those sounded any better. Suddenly, Villie gasped.

“Oooh, what about that Cuban spot?”

You allowed that to simmer for a few moments and when your stomach didn’t react you slowly sat up. In your mind’s eye, you saw a towering plate of empanadas beside another plate filled with Cuban-style seafood paella and a bowl of black bean soup and tostones. You looked to Villie and found her smiling widely.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

You pulled out your phone and went to your food ordering app then found the restaurant she meant. You spent the following 5 or so minutes adding everything your stomach told you that you needed and had to have or else you’d die. By the time you’d checked out, your total and quantity were insane for just two people but as far as you were concerned everything was a necessity.

While Villie waited for the order, you took a quick shower. Or it was meant to be quick. Whenever you swiped your decadently soaped-up exfoliating gloves across your abdomen you paused up and your mind wandered. There was an actual baby inside of you right now—two to be accurate. You were carrying the babies of a man you’d only slept with once, well multiple times over the span of 5ish hours. You didn’t know him and you sure as hell hadn’t planned for this to be the outcome of your wanton night of pleasure.

There were so many things on your mind, so many worries to add to the ones you already had. According to Dr. Olumici, you had already reached the cut-off point to ethically terminate with her and most other providers. However, you could find other physicians who would perform an early 2nd-trimester termination. Through your research in the hospital, you educated yourself on why it was too unethical and brought so much controversy. Once you understood you couldn’t fathom doing it.

With that answer, you also couldn’t fathom yourself carrying these babies or giving them a life. You weren’t exactly stable in your life or career. You’d only just begun the path and had so many other things planned to accomplish before the whole adding to the population of the world thing. That meant you had a predicament on your hands that now only had one resolution—adoption. Even that didn’t sit right with you. Could you go on living your life knowing you had a life somewhere else in the world living, a being that came from you, a being you wouldn’t know in any way?

So you spent the entire shower going back and forth over your options but that only sent you into an endless circle with resolutions that weren’t real ones because they posed more problems and raised more questions. By the time you came out of the shower and returned to the living room, Villie was lost in her phone with the food spread out across your coffee table.

“That was longer than usual.”

“Yeah, I smelled like a hospital, I needed to smell like me.”

Villie nodded then grabbed the bottle that was in the center of the table, “Did you know you can get alcohol delivered off of Dash?”

You snorted. Leave it to her to try. You took a seat on the floor beside her ready to dig in but her phone resting on the table caught your eye. It was the picture of the man who’d showed up at the hospital, the one you’d rear-ended.

“You found him on socials already?”

Villie glanced at her phone then scoffed. “It wasn’t hard. Take a guess who he’s connected to.”

You thought about it for a second but the smells wafting from the containers took your attention. You went through pulling off the tops of the food containers and moaning as each new smell filled the room.

“Oh my god, I didn’t realize how hungry I was until now.”

Without another word, you dug into the food filling your plate with a lot of everything. Once you were satisfied with the bites you had taken you glanced back at Villie who was wide-eyed.

“What?”

“Glad to see your appetite has come back.”

You nodded and continued stuffing your face. Over the last few days, though you hadn’t vomited, you felt small bouts of nausea that came and went and the look of most of the hospital food left you not wanting to eat much. You’d worried it was going to be a permanent thing, but those worries were put to rest now.

“So, guess who he’s connected to,” Villie broached again.

“I don’t know,” you said mouth full of food.

Villie grabbed her phone and slid across her screen then held it up to you. When you looked, Lewis Hamilton’s face filled her screen. You gasped forgetting your mouthful of food then immediately began choking from the few particles that went down the wrong pipe.

“Oh my god!”

Villie leaped to her knees, patted your back with one hand, and poured some of the dark liquid from the bottle into a glass before she handed it to you. As you brought it to your nose your stomach turned from the strong scent of alcohol. You put the glass back on the table and shook your head. Villie kissed her teeth and then hurried to the kitchen before she came back with a bottle of water. You took several gulps in between coughs trying your best to dislodge the food that was stuck in your windpipe.

After a few attempts, you took a deep breath and hung your head back.

“Are you all right?”

You nodded, wiping your eyes from the tears that had slipped out.

“Jesus. I know the man is fine, fine but get a grip,” Villie teased.

You scoffed then pressed your palms to your face.

“Wait. Eh-em, you’re telling me the man I ran into is connected to him?”

“Yep. His name is Miles Chamley-Watson. He is the BFF to Lewis Hamilton, like for real BFF shit. They go everywhere together.”

Your eyes were bugged as you pieced it together. How small was this fucking world? How was this even real? The more you thought about it you began to wonder if he was in Mauritius with him. If so, did he know who you were?

“Oh my god.”

“Right! Like we kind of hit it off. I’m not gonna say there was flirting but there was flirting.”

“So you’re interested in him?”

Villie smiled as she drank down the glass of rum she’d poured for you. “I might be. What do you think? Do you think I shouldn’t be?”

How were you supposed to answer that? If she pursued things and they ended up becoming a thing didn’t that mean eventually one way or another you and Lewis would interact with one another? If you did wouldn’t he find out about the babies? If he found out--. The thought paused as a bigger item zipped itself up the agenda. Would he even remember you? He was after all Lewis Hamilton. You were sure there was no shortage of women he spent his time with. Why would he remember you from one night and 5 hours?

“Y/N?”

“Uh—um, well--.”

You saw the hope in her eyes and knew you couldn’t minipulate this because of your situation. Sighing you took her hand. “Valenza, I saw something between y’all. I say go with it and enjoy yourself. Who knows this could be it.”

Villie screeched then began laughing like an erratic high schooler who’d just learned their crush liked them back. Smiling you went back to eating. As Villie talked about Miles for a few more minutes your mind was lost in its own world. This shit was getting even more complicated.

~~~~~~~

4 Weeks Later

Your eyes never left the front door of 4057 Lake Drive Blvd. You’d been sitting in your car for the last 3 hours obsessively staring at the door with one hand on your steering wheel while the other rested on the door handle. You’d had every intention of getting out of your car and going inside 2 hours ago. However, that didn’t work out. Every time you tried to force your feet to move they didn’t. Instead, you sat outside the women’s health center as the time clicked closer and closer to your appointment until that same time clicked further and further away from your appointment time.

Now you were a whole 2 hours past your appointment time with no progress on getting out of the car. As you sat here you went over every single option over and over and over. You interjected every variable, every single con to every single choice. However, with every con, you found yourself seeing just as many pros. Now it was impossible to tell what the right decision was.

Never in your life had you thought you’d consider termination let alone a 2nd trimester one, but you were finding out that in most decisions no one knows what they would do until they are in it. You didn’t think you’d have unprotected sex with a stranger in your life but when the moment came you were one hundred percent DTF (down to fuck).

You closed your eyes for probably the hundredth time and took several deep, slow breaths. On the fifth one, you held it and allowed your heartbeat to steadily slow until it beat low and evenly. It was a trick you’d done most of your life to calm yourself and think clearly. When everything fell away, including the sounds of traffic, the sounds of the city you loved, and even the drum of your engine, you were left with your heartbeat and the rustling of the palm leaves. It was then that you felt the butterfly fluttering sensations again.

When you’d first felt them a week ago you hadn’t known what they were, and it took a few days to recognize what they were. Every Google search confirmed it—fetal movements. That was when it all became real and right now sitting in front of the health center where a doctor was waiting to perform your termination that you were now 2 hours late for because you were panicking and waiting for a sign to show you the right path to take, did it really become real.

Your hands left their current positions, the steering wheel and the door handle, and drifted to your belly which was now ever so slightly poked out. As if the minuscule beings inside of you knew your hands were there the fluttering intensified, crippling you with emotion. You dropped your head onto the steering wheel and allowed yourself to cry for the first time.

What could have been mistaken for sad tears weren’t. They were tears of resolution, tears of understanding, tears of acceptance—of fear. This was your sign, your answer, your path, and you were scared shitless. So your tears flowed down your cheeks and dripped all over you soaking your top. Even then you didn’t stop, you let it all out even turning up the music to drown out the sounds of your sobs.

From this moment forward, your life would never be the same and from this moment forward, you would face whatever came your way on this path with one thought in mind—what was best for your babies. When your tears finally subsided you wrapped your arms around your midsection, hugging yourself and the lives within you, and took a deep breath.

“Okay. I didn’t expect you and I surely didn’t plan you, but I won’t get rid of you. I hope you don’t regret choosing me because you’re stuck with me, and I promise I will do everything to protect you from today onward. Be gentle and patient with me and we’ll learn together.”

As if your words were heard, the flutters returned making you smile. pressing your head back on the headrest you sighed and tried to formulate a plan. That was when your phone rang sending audio caller ID off.

Villie calling. Villie calling. Villie calling.

You scoffed. Even the universe knew the plan was to tell Villie because she was good at coming up with a plan that ensured you were the primary benefiter. Truthfully, you should have told her weeks ago but since your release from the hospital she’d been spending a lot of time with Miles. Though he lived in the UK, they were always on Facetime dates, they’d now met up in London 3 times and you were sure she knew what Miles Jr looked like.

You hadn’t wanted to make things weird between them or add any stress given the truths of your situation. You really had wanted to keep things separate. Now with you deciding to keep the babies and raise them, there was no way you could keep everything from her anymore. She was your best friend after all. Tapping the answer button, you buckled yourself in.

“Hey V.”

“Hey. Where are you?”

“Umm--,” you stretched as you pulled out of the parking lot of the medical center and onto Berman Street.

“Getting on the highway, what’s up?”

“I feel like shopping. Are you down?”

“Yeah, tell me where to meet you.”

The drive through South Beach was unlike any drive you’d done before. Over the last few weeks, you’d been tense and stressed out to the max. It was evident in the way you gripped the steering wheel and sat in your seat. Now you felt differently. You were more relaxed, and more centered but also more cautious. You found yourself stopping and allowing more women and children cross even if they didn’t have the right of way, found yourself driving slightly below the speed limit and following every single traffic law that was in the driver’s manual that you’d neglected mere weeks before.

By the time you parked and fed your meter, you were 10 minutes late and intensely craving a massive green smoothie. After getting not one but two, you found Villie already well into her shopping in one of the lingerie stores.

“What took you so long?”

“Traffic and I needed a smoothie. So for you, shopping starts with lingerie.”

“Of course.”

You chuckled then began going through the racks. There were tons of cute stuff, but you knew soon you wouldn’t fit any of it and you had no one to wear any of this for. With that thought you looked at Villie.

“Valenza Tamina Chord, are you stocking up for a particular event?”

She smiled widely then walked off.

“No, no. Don’t try to slip away. What’s going on?”

“Miles is coming to town in a few weeks for a week and--.”

“You plan on getting your back broke, throat bruised, and internal organs rearranged. Okay!”

Villie giggled as she took down a navy blue strappy number that would look great on her and examined it.

“Okay I don’t know about throat bruised but the rest of it yep.”

You snorted and shook your head. “First of all, get that, it’ll look phenomenal on you. Second, let’s see if you have a voice when he comes.”

“Oh my god, Y/N, he is so cool, such a good guy.”

“He seems like it. I’m glad you’re having fun you deserve it.”

Villie’s eyes landed on you and for a few moments she studied you. “I’m not the only one who deserves it, you do too.”

You nodded and walked away to another rack and idly went through the hangers.

“I mean it. You’ve been single for long enough don’t you think?”

“I have a lot going on Villie. I don’t need another thing to worry about.”

“I understand what you mean but sometimes if it’s the right thing it doesn’t become a worry but something to bring you happiness, and peace.”

You sighed the words at the tip of your tongue but with no way to come out. This wasn’t something you could blurt out and be done with. You knew Villie, she would want to dissect everything on top of wanting a play-by-play of your dick down. This conversation couldn’t be had in the middle of a lingerie store.

“When do we meet the creative director of the station?”

“Boo! Always changing the subject. Fine, whatever. Next week is the meeting. Their name is Sadie Walters and she sent over some ideas for her vision along with some papers to understand your vision. So you got some homework.”

“Okay. I’m excited to get this off the ground and get back to traveling.”

“Workaholic. One day you will regret working so much and pushing your personal life to the side.”

You turned your back and quietly scoffed. If she only knew how little time you would have for a personal life in the next few years she’d take that back. For the next several hours you dipped in and out of almost every store adding bags and bags of clothes, shoes, makeup, and body products until you both were exhausted. After you had dinner at a nearby steakhouse where again you ate nearly everything in sight. When you both split at the end of the night you attempted to get the words out but still you couldn’t. You weren’t quite ready, and you worried you would be really showing before you were ever ready.

~~~~~~

-2 Weeks Later-

Pop!

The champagne bottle top flew across the room colliding into the wall, making everyone cheer and clap. After so many weeks of work with finishing up your catalog, the vacation wear line, and getting the behind-the-scenes stuff of your travel show down everything was signed, sealed, and done. Tomorrow was the release of your catalog and vacation wear line, and you were absolutely freaking out.

“Oh my god. Thank you everyone!”

You went around your office and hugged each and every one of the people who helped you get here. You wrapped your arms around Zavier and squeezed.

“Thank you Z, you made this catalog incredible. I cannot thank you enough!”

“Congratulations. You’re more than welcome.”

Next, you moved on to Sabrina and Chloe, the interns who’d been hired to maintain some of the back-end things. “Thank you beautiful souls.”

“You’re welcome!”

When you moved to Villie she rocked you side to side. That was when the waterworks started.

“Oh Villie, thank you, thank you!”

“Shut up. I don’t need thank yous. I am so happy for you. It’ll be no time now before you are bigger than Anthony Zimmerman.”

“Girl, we are not alike. He travels to eat everything; I travel to party.”

Everyone laughed at that. When Villie handed you a glass of champagne you froze.

“We have to drink to you and all that you’ve accomplished and to this amazing team of ours,” Villie said holding her glass up.

Everyone followed her and tapped their glasses together. You brought the glass to your lips, but you didn’t take a sip as they all did.

“Thank you guys so much for all your hard work and dedication to these projects. It means the world to me.”

You hoped they understood how much they meant to you though you couldn’t fully express it because if you did, you knew you would cry uncontrollably which would be weird. You were having a hard time keeping your emotions under control over the last two weeks as your pregnancy progressed. You saw a dandelion blow away from a hard gust of wind earlier and that made you cry for the poor dandelion that would never be seen again. With that, you knew your emotional state was highly unbalanced.

When the bottle of champagne disappeared, everyone started to file out to get on with their own days leaving you and Villie. You scrolled through the virtual catalog in complete awe. You couldn’t believe that after so many months it was over and would be out for the world to see. The pride you felt was indescribable. You’d accomplished this without using anyone's clout, or influence to elevate it. You didn’t have any major help, most of it was compiled by you using your skills and talents. It wasn’t until near the end had you brought on more expertise. This was your baby.

“I can’t believe this is done, V.”

She doesn’t reply. When you felt her approach, she pulled up a chair beside you then sighed. “I can’t believe you haven’t told me what’s been going on with you since you were released from the hospital.”

You paused and fought the rapid beating of your heart because you knew she would hear it in the quiet office. “Uh--.”

“I’ll give you a few moments to come up with what you are going to say to come clean with me but the words out of your mouth better be the truth. I’ve let you go for all this time but right now I’m getting offended and hurt that you don’t feel like you can talk to me.”

You spun to her and grabbed her hands. “No, no. Villie, that’s not it I swear!”

“No? Then what else could it be, Y/N?”

You sighed then found your words. Gripping her hands tighter you looked at her. “Okay look. I wanted to tell you, but I didn’t know how and honestly I didn’t know until a few weeks ago and since then I have been a mess trying to wrap my head around it and future my shit out. It’s a lot happening.”

“Are you sick? Please don’t tell me you have cancer.”

“What? No! I don’t. I’m not sick.”

Villie let out a relieved huff of breath then took a steadying one. “Then what? What is going on?”

“I’m—I’m—pregnant.”

Villie just stared at you with a blank expression. She didn’t move, she didn’t even look as if she were breathing. Leaning forward you studied her closer trying to gauge just what she was thinking. Biting your bottom lip you prepared yourself to repeat the words but just as you opened your mouth to, Villie sprang to her feet.

“What! P—pr—pregnant?”

She walked to the far side of the office. “I know you fucking lying.”

“Uh--.”

“No. It’s a lie. There is no way. How did you get pregnant? When?”

You understood her reaction. You hadn’t told her about your night with Lewis because you didn’t want to be one of those girls who bragged about spending the night with a celebrity and you honestly were kind of embarrassed by everything that happened that night. You’d turned into a completely different person and when the sun rose, and you’d found your limbs entangled with his and your very naked bodies still connected under the massive palm tree that was tucked out of sight you’d felt stupid and easy so you ran as fast as you could without looking back. As far as she knew you’d been in a sex drought for 2 years.

“Y/N!”

“Calm down. I should be the one freaking out. I’m the pregnant one.”

Villie’s eyes widened.

“I’m not lying. I am pregnant. I found out at the hospital after the accident and that’s what’s been going on for the last few weeks. I was trying to wrap my head around it all and figure out what I wanted to do about it. Because of everything that I have going on I didn’t think I could continue this, so it’s been a stressful few weeks,” you rushed out.

Ville was still standing across the room and now looking at you like you had two heads. “You’re not fucking with me?”

“I’m not fucking with you. I promise.”

Instantly Villie crossed the room to you taking you into her arms and hugging the life out of you. “Oh, honey.”

With your best friend comforting you, your tears began flowing. When she heard your sniffles she pulled back and pouted.  “You’re really pregnant?”

Nodding, you sniffled some more. Villie’s tear-filled eyes overflowed and the two of you hugged again and ugly cried together. Relief filled you as you relished the comfort of the one person who's had your back for over a decade. You weren’t alone with this anymore. You knew without a doubt that Villie would have your back the entire way.

When the two of you sat back down, you both wiped your tears and snot and laughed at each other for being so emotional about it.

“Oh my god, Y/N.”

“I know.”

“Oh my god,” Villie repeated.

“I know, I know. It’s huge.”

“Huge? This is—colossal. You’re pregnant.”

You nodded, “I am.”

“You’re pregnant with a baby, like a real baby.”

“Ha, try two babies. Two real babies.”

Villie shot to her feet again.

“Shut the fuck up!”

“Girl I nearly passed out when I found out.”

Villie screeched then and practically tackled you with another hug. “Twins! Aah, Y/N, how precious is that?!”

You snorted. Of course she would be the one to die over the cuteness of it all. Villie dropped back into the seat, then reached for your belly. When she realized it was not flat her eyes became the size of the moon.

“Holy fucking shit, Y/N. This feels so real.”

“Oh it’s real. It’s so real I have had to sideline 3 of my favorite pairs of jeans already and I’m not even halfway there yet.”

“So you’re keeping them, right? You better be keeping them.”

“I’m keeping them. I couldn’t do the procedure. It didn’t feel right in my heart.”

Villie nodded. “I get that. It’s different to hold my hand through mine than be the one in the stirrups getting your own. It’s a decision every woman has to make for herself.”

A few moments of silence stretched as both of you thought back to when Villie ended up pregnant barely one year into law school. Her then asshole boyfriend freaked and went as far as to transfer schools just to get away from the whole thing. After hours of tears, weeks of lamenting, and one in-depth heart to heart she decided it was best to terminate. So, you held her hand through the whole thing and per her request, the two of you never spoke of it again.

Squeezing her hand for comfort, you continued, “It was simply too late for me to have a clear conscious about it. Then I got a sign showing me what to do and—yeah, here we are.”

Villie squeezed your hand again. “Well, I am happy for you honey. You are going to be an amazing mom.”

You groaned. “Mom. V, this is insane. The show, the catalog, the line, all the traveling I’m going to be doing, the chaos of filming. I can’t do this, right?”

“Of course you can do this. You’re not going to be alone doing it either. I will be here. I will be with you for every single thing, ultrasounds, Lamaze, nursery planning, hospital bag packing, birth, and every day after. You’re not alone and you can do this,” she assured in her attorney voice.

Slowly you nodded as her words sank in filling you with confidence. Suddenly Villie gasped.

“Hold up. When did this happen? Who!?”

You let her hand go, stood, and grabbed your stuff.

“Let’s go to my place.”

Villie looked cautiously at you. “Oh god, is it Zavier?”

“What! Hell no.”

“What do you mean hell no? Zavier is fine as hell. You have seen his abs right and his tight ass?”

“Oh my god V, stop sexualizing Z.”

“I’m not. I’m just asking if you have seen his abs and his ass.”

“Yes, I have seen them and yes they are great.”

“Not to mention he is crushing so hard on you, has been for like a year now.”

“Shut up, he hasn’t.”

Villie rolled her eyes as she walked out the door first. “Oblivious fool. Can’t stand you bitches who don’t notice when you have men wrapped around your finger. until it's too late”

You snorted, “Who you calling a fool?”

The bickering continued as you made your way to your cars. When you separated to drive there separately, you made a quick stop at the Cuban spot near your house and once again picked up enough food for an army. When you got home Villie was already waiting for you. She helped you line out the food on the coffee table and get drinks ready, then you dug in. Halfway through eating Villie turned to you to press further.

“I know you’ve been stalling. Spill it already. Is he some struggling cartel clown who thinks he's next in line but is still the errand boy?”

“God no.”

“One of these struggling Miami rappers who swear they got bars but really don't understand the meaning of the word?”

You chuckled. “No.”

“Oh, a struggling underwear model who--.”

“Why do they all have to be struggling?”

“Because you’re stalling which means you’re either embarrassed of him or you regret letting him hit and most likely it’s because you’re ashamed of who he is.”

“I’m not—embarrassed or ashamed of him per se.”

“Okay if not who, then tell me when. When did this happen?”

“Mauritius.”

Her eyes widened again.

“Holy shit, did you Stella Got Her Groove Back on some hot barely legal island bway and brought back your very own Mauritian souvenirs.”

You busted out laughing sending food out of your mouth and onto the floor beside you.

“Wait, wait, wait. Barely legal isn’t my thing and since when have I been out of commission long enough to Stella Got Her Groove Back on anyone?!”

“It’s been 2 years, Y/N. You’re honeytrap was growing cobwebs.”

You laughed loudly again loving the feeling. It had been too long since you’d laughed like this.

“First of all. Fuck you!”

Villie laughed along with you.

“No, it’s who fucked you?”

You hugged her and rocked from side to side.

“Oh I love you Villie.”

“Love you too honey. That doesn’t mean I am letting this go. Tell me already.”

“Fine. Lewis Hamilton.”

Villie gave you a “yeah right” look then busted out laughing. She laughed so long that it gave you more time to keep eating. Slowly she realized you weren’t laughing with her and slowly she stopped.

“I didn’t mean lie to my face.”

“Who’s lying?”

Villie stared at you for a few moments then you watched every cell in her body light up until her face was bright and her eyes wide. That’s when it happened. She screamed. You nodded your head because it was either this reaction you’d expected or the complete disbelief. You’d gotten them both.

“No fucking way!”

“Oh yes fucking way.”

“You had sex with Lewis Hamilton in Mauritius? Oh ho ho, details. I need every single piece of information starting with who said the first word to whom, moving on to are his hands as big as they seem, then what he smells like, then can he kiss, then not skipping any minuscule detail like boxers or briefs, circumcised or not and finally how big and can he lay pipe.”

She screeched again, grabbed her bottle of beer, turned to you then cleared her throat. “Okay, begin.”

She was an absolute trip. You spent the few hours going over every detail of that night that you dared to with Villie. You even let her know how free you’d been with yourself and all the things you’d let him do to you, all the ways you’d let him have you and claim your body. With every piece of info, Villie looked like she was near an aneurysm. When you told her how you’d let him into your back door she lost her shit. She screamed so loud you were sure your neighbors would call the police thinking foul play was afoot.

By the time you finished, Villie was laid out on her back with a dazed look on her face staring at the ceiling as if she had been the one who’d gone through probably the best night of fucking ever recorded by man or woman. You gave her a few minutes to recover and let it all sink in and used the time to finish off the food.

“Oh my god, Y/N.”

Villie sat up panting, her hair a mess.

“Are you good?”

“Am I? Are you? All of that went down?”

“All of that went down. I got back to my hotel room and didn’t recognize myself in the mirror.”

“You a freak, freak, freak!”

Both of you laughed some more.

“I can’t believe you.”

“I know. Mauritian rum is no fucking joke.”

“No. I can’t believe you left him there naked in the sand. Why!?”

“What? Why? You’re joking. I couldn’t stay.”

“Why?”

“Because it was over, it was one night and—I—I,” you sighed. “I was embarrassed. I felt like a fool.”

“You were embarrassed to have slept with Lewis Hamilton?”

“Partly. You’ve heard the rumors about him, heard the stories of him having a harem and contractual relationships that center around sex and extravagance, and here I went and fell for him.”

“Wait, fell for him, fell for him?”

You sighed and thought back to your conversation and the vibe between you.

“I don’t know. I’d had a lot to drink that night and was on a high after that folk dance with the island’s natives and there was something when our eyes met through the flames of the fire. There was something that made me fall enough to let all that go down.”

“Do you like him?”

“I don’t know him. I don’t know I felt like I became this whole other person that I have never been before but it didn’t feel like a mask or me pretending and it makes me wonder why did it come out with him and not anyone else?”

Villie nodded. “So instead of finding out why by staying till he woke up, you ran away and brought back 2 souvenirs with his DNA that you now have to find a way to tell him about.”

“Tell him? Why would I tell him?”

Villie looked at you with incredulity. “You’re joking.” She stared at you longer then scoffed when she realized you weren’t. “No, Y/N, you have to tell him. Don’t you think he deserves to know he will have 2 children running around with his DNA?”

“---No.”

“Y/N--.”

“Okay wait. I can see how you would say yes and well—maybe—yes. Fuck. How do I tell him this Villie? Do I just DM him on Insta and be like hey remember me? He probably won’t if the stories are true he’s had nights like this plenty of times. What do I say?”

“Who cares about the stories, the rumors, and any of that other noise. Right now you are pregnant and you’ve decided to keep the babies—his babies. You have to tell him and let him figure out if he remembers you, and decide what he plans on doing. Whatever he decides won’t affect you. If he decides to man up great then you figure it out. If he decides to deny, deny, deny then fine, move on.”

You heard her words. They made plenty of sense, but you were still apprehensive. You didn’t want to be perceived as that girl. The one who showed up with a pregnancy from one night or a situationship where terms were clear.

“This is messy, Villie.”

“It is but what isn't messy these days? Oh my god, Miles.”

You looked at her as she finally thought about her connection to all of this.

“He’s his bestie right, and now your boo thang.”

Villie smiled at those words then scoffed. “The world is so fucking small.”

“Tell me about it,” you replied.

The two of you sat quietly for a few moments both in your own heads about your situation.

“Well, you have an in to talk to him when you’re ready to tell him about the pregnancy.”

“What in? Miles?”

“Yeah. We’ll tell him and ask if he can get you a face-to-face.”

“Face to face? Villie.”

“Is this the kind of news you really want to send over socials, text messages, or word of mouth?”

You hated when she was right.

“Also from a legal standpoint, if you kept this from him now and he somehow found out years down the line, he could file a lawsuit against you and seek damages.”

“From little ol' me?”

“If he was feeling really butt hurt, that’s the minimum of what he could do legally,” Villie confirmed.

You sighed then dropped back onto the floor. Your hands instantly went to your stomach and you felt your slight bump. This shit was messy and had the potential to get even messier. Villie was right though, you did have to tell him, it was the right thing to do.

Looking at it from a different angle, it was better to say "Hi remember me, oops I’m pregnant" than not and wonder what if.

You closed your eyes and groaned. Your life had turned upside down in the span of a few months and once again it was all because of the things you’d done in the dark.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

TagList:

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[hockeyandhrsepwr]

Always You

Quinn Hughes x reader

** I had a bunch of ideas for this but didnt want it to be too long. Enjoy:) **

-> gif from Pinterest

You and Quinn had been close friends since childhood, with his family moving a street over from yours in Toronto. Being in the grade between Jack & Quinn, you ended up around them lots, walking to school together & playing outside whenever the boys weren’t playing hockey.

Hell, Jack was your first kiss during a party when you were 13, egged up by your mutual friends and a game of truth or dare. But it was always Quinn.

From as early as you can remember, you’d crushed on the older boy. There was something about him that had always drawn you to him. Brushing it off as nothing more than a childhood crush, you didn’t do anything, until it was too late. One day you’re chilling in their basement, trying to figure out how to tell one of your best friends that you really like him, next thing you know, Quinn’s telling you he’s going to Michigan for the National Development program for the next two years.

It was tough seeing him go, and you cried hard when you said goodbye, but keeping in touch wasn’t a problem. You still had Jack and Luke who were basically your brothers by that point, & Quinn came back to Toronto when he had breaks, the few that there were. After your 16th birthday rolled around the March after he left, and you got your licence, you took your shitty, beat up old car (and Jack) and made the trip down to surprise Quinn one weekend.

Two years flew by, & despite his hectic schedule and all his new friends and experiences, your friendship stayed strong and you talked almost every day. You even went to his prom with him, where some prodding from Brady led him to tell you that he was in love with you. A long conversation later, he finally kissed you and asked if you would be his girlfriend.

The two of you knew it would be hard, with him heading to Michigan in the fall and then on to the NHL while you still had another year of high school and then University. But you were determined to make it work. and honestly, nothing much changed. You already talked everyday & hung out when he was back in Toronto, dating just meant that the two of you snuck off more to spend time without Jack or Luke, and you made a trip out to the lake house that summer.

That summer brought another bittersweet goodbye, as the Hughes family made the move down to Michigan when Jack started in the program. On one hand, you were losing your second family, on the other now you would always have someone to stay with if you wanted to visit Quinn. And visit you did.

Your grade 12 year was hard academically, but you worked your butt off to be able to have one weekend a month where you would hop in your car & jam out for a few hours while making the drive down to see Quinn. Your family had moved closer to London because of your Dads new job, so your drive was only 3 hours instead of the 5ish from Toronto. Your parents didnt love you driving cross border, but they were glad that Ellen & Jim were around when you were there.

The visits were timed for home game weekends and you finished classes at noon, so you’d drive down Friday afternoon & be there when jack & the boys got out of school so you could hang out with them for a bit, drive in to Ann Arbour to watch the game & then spend the rest of your evening with Quinn in his dorm. Friday nights weren’t too crazy because the boys had another game Saturday.

Saturdays were spent catching up with the rest of the Hughes and exploring with Quinn before another game and parties afterwards. Sundays brought goodbyes and promises of see you soon before you’d head home in the afternoon. It was difficult but you wouldn’t change it for anything.

At the same time, you were applying to universities & waiting anxiously to hear back. You applied all over the country, but your heart was set on one. UBC had been your dream school for as long as you could remember. It was where your parents studied, where they fell in love, and had some of the best programs in the world. You had worked your ass off for the last three years to be able to apply early decision to their Commerce program, and if you get in, there’s was no question of where you were going.

Quinn was declaring for the draft that year, which brought more concern from friends and family. “What will you do if he ends up…” was a phrase you heard often over the course of the year, but your response was always “we’ll figure it out” because you knew you would.

The weekend you visited in January (2018) you finally had that conversation with Quinn. After his game Friday, you were in his room when you got the notification. UBC release early application decision. Terrified, you couldn’t bring yourself to check. As much as you wanted it you were afraid of what moving clear across the country would do for you & Quinn. You told him your fears, that the distance, time difference & uncertainty of where he’d be after he joined the league, coupled with you being there for four years would be too hard for the two of you.

“I’d wait my whole life for you if I had to” he told you and you believed him without a shadow of a doubt because you’d do the same. His reassurances made you feel better, and you opened the portal. Accepted. All those years of working had paid off, and you cried. You & Quinn would figure things out, but you were headed to your dream school and he was headed for his dream.

Within a week you had solidified your decision and were bound for Vancouver come September.

That June, you accompany him to Dallas for the draft. As things get underway you sit there, squeezing his hand. The first few picks happen and you can’t help but be relieved that he’s not headed clear across the country. He’s projected to go top ten so when Vancouver come to pick seventh, you hold your breath. Surely you wouldn’t be that lucky.

Quinn Hughes.

You don’t think you’ll ever forget the feeling that hearing his name called by the Canucks brought. He wraps you in a hug & whispers in your ear “told you it’d all work out” before hugging his brother & parents & heading down to the stage. You’re so proud of him, but more than that you’re excited for what the future holds, especially with the two of you in the same city. There’s always the possibility of him being traded before he ever get to Vancouver, but you’re hopeful.

Two weeks later you’re officially a high school graduate & it’s time for summer. You split your time between your home in London & visiting the Hughes lake house, spending as much time with all your friends and family as you can before heading off to Vancouver. Quinn heads back to Michigan for his sophomore year & you head west.

That year was hard, really hard. Being away from your family for the first time, you and Quinn struggling to find time to talk to each other and the time difference meaning accidental calls in the middle of the night, all balanced with your classes and trying to get involved on campus, late nights in the library, pressure from your new friends to go out with them, missing everyone and an overwhelming amount of assignments leads you to a breakdown first semester.

It hurts Quinn that he can’t be there to hold you as you sob on the phone, but the five hour flight between Detroit & Vancouver is just too much. He knows that your relationship is putting extra strain on you, but he can’t even fathom breaking up or taking a break because that would break him. Slowly you’re able to sort your head out, and as your first semester draws to a close you’re doing much better and have a handle on things.

Excited to see your family and Quinn, you jump on the first flight you can after finishing your finals, bound for Toronto. You were heading home to London and Quinn planned on coming up for a bit since he saw his family pretty often, but then he was chosen for the World Juniors squad. Thankfully it was in Buffalo, so you celebrate christmas, and on the 26th make the drive down. Youre able to spend a week there, cheering Quinn on & hanging out with Ellen & Luke.

It’s during this week that Quinn tells you that he’s signing with the Canucks at the end of the Michigan season.

You needed the break & went into your second semester feeling strong and more confident in your ability to manage everything. Winter in Vancouver is fairly mild and soon enough, Reading Week arrives in February. Many of your friends are heading south for a bit of sun, but you head to Detroit. Michigan have back to back home weekends and Jack’ll be around too.

During the week you spend time with Quinn, working on assignments while he’s in class & just enjoying time together, also visiting the Hughes household and hanging out with Jack & his friends there. Sunday you fly back to Vancouver, ready to finish out your semester.

A few weeks later you get the call. It’s official, Quinn’s coming to Vancouver. You borrow a friends car & are waiting for him at the airport. You’d think it’d been months if you’d seen your reunion in the arrivals area of the airport, not mere weeks.

Quinns thrown right into the Canucks and the adjustment to the pros is hard, but knowing you’re only 20 minutes away makes it easier for him. You spend as much time together as you can, with you acting as tour guide & showing him around your favourite spots in the city.

Your friends don’t understand how you don’t miss him too much when the team goes on road trips, but two years into your relationship & you’re finally in the same city for an extended period of time & can see him mostly whenever you want so a week or two apart doesn’t phase you.

You get close to the team, always Quinns date to functions & occasionally spotted around the arena. Petey becomes a good friends of yours since he’s rooming with Quinn & you spend enough time in their apartment.

Many of the fans & people online come to know you as “Quinn’s girl”. Any home game you’re right behind the bench, cheering your heart out for the Canucks and chirping the opposing team (especially if its Ottawa. Brady & Josh hate playing in Vancouver because of you.) Once Jack gets to the NHL ooh boy. That man knows no peace when the Devils play Vancouver. It’s one of the only away games you ever go to (if they play in Jersey) mainly because you get to see the rest of the fam.

I mean you grew up in Toronto & around these boys. You couldn’t not take an interest in hockey. At that point you know someone on every team through Quinn & spend your time terrorizing them when they’re at Rogers. The fans absolutely love it though. Hell, half of your friends are hockey fans now, forced to watch games when the Canucks are away or Jack and Luke play.

The two of you spend summers back east, between working, visiting family & days at the lake. You’re able to get internships that are remote so you could still work on your career plans but enjoy your summers , and by the end of your third summer you have a job offer from a firm in Vancouver. Fourth year brings lots of fun & final memories with your college friends before you all split off to different parts of the country.

The end of Quinns third year in the league comes at the same time as your graduation. His family & yours come out and Quinn drags a bunch of the team with him too. When your name gets called out, that section is by far the loudest of the day.

Your friends are convinced that he’s going to propose that weekend. In fact, many of them are surprised that you aren’t already engaged, you’ve been together for 5 years at this point, but both of you are still young. You have had the conversation, but you know that you’re going to be together forever so the timeline isn’t that important.

What he does ask you that weekend, is to move in with him. You’ve spent the last 3 years living with your friends close to campus while Quinn’s been living downtown near the arena. It’s an obvious yes, especially since you spend almost every night there when he’s home anyway. You spend the week with your families and move into a new apartment, excited for what’s coming next.

Living together isn’t seamless, but you & Quinn make it work. The beginning is difficult, not having your own space but soon you fit into each others lives easily. You work during the week & go to games if they’re at home, you spend time exploring new areas around the city & nearby & you fall more in love with Quinn every day.

He brings you coffee in bed each morning because he’s up for workouts, date nights at home cooking dinner and lots of fun over the summers with family & friends. Winter trips to the mountains when you can and fall in the city, you usually separate in the heart of summer since you can’t take that long off & he’ll head to Michigan but it doesn’t phase you.

Which brings you to today. It’s late April & its been two years since you moved in together. Quinns killing it for the Canucks, breaking records & their season has just ended, you’ve just been promoted and life is going well.

The city is coming more alive as winter’s on its way out, you're getting ready to take a few weeks break & head east to see both of your families. Luke has made his NHL debut & the Devils have made the playoffs so you’re going to cheer your boys on.

You’re making dinner when you hear the front door open & Quinn comes through the door after final team meetings for this season.

“Hey babe” he comes up behind you and gives you a kiss before heading into your bedroom to shower & change. You pour another glass of wine as you stir the pot, your go to playlist on with a mix of soft pop, indie and chill country coming through the speaker. Ten minutes later Quinn comes back out & you hold up a spoon for him to taste the sauce.

“Few more minutes” you say as he tastes it & he nods. “Delicious”

The two of you stand there at the stove, his arms around your waist as he sings along with the music softly & you sway. A few minutes later, the song Never seen anything quite like you starts & Quinn reaches over & turns off the stove.

He pulls you towards your living room and you laugh as he pulls you into a high school style dance where you just sway & shuffle in a circle.

The song plays in the the background as you stare up into Quinns eyes and he sings along, more grateful than ever that you found him. The love you have for this man knows no bounds and he’s still giving you butterflies & making you feel giddy with just a look after seven years.

He sings along with the song and you feel every word in your soul.

I think I want you more than want

I know I need you more than need

I want to hold you more than hold

When you stood in front of me

I think you know me more than know

And you see me more than see

I could die now more than die

Every time you look at me

Well I've seen you in jeans with no make-up on

And I've stood there in awe as your date for the prom

But then he switches it up

“I’d be blessed as a man to see you in white”

Wait what?

he pulls away and sinks to one knee in front of you, and your hand comes up to your mouth. Reaching into his pocket, he takes out a gorgeous simple ring

“When I first came to Vancouver, everyone kept asking what my first big purchase was going to be. The day I signed my contract I bought this. I’ve known since I was 16 that I was in love with you. That love has only continued to grow & I want nothing more than to spend every day for the rest of my life loving you. You’re my light in the dark, the one I look for in a crowd, the only person I always want around. It’s always been you.

It’s a privilege to call you mine, but it would be an honour to call you my wife. So y/n my love, will you marry me?”

You hiccup out a yes, tears streaming down your face & you sink to your knees beside him

“I love you so much” you pull him into a kiss. He slips the ring onto your finger & pulls you to him, pressing kiss after kiss to your face. You giggle & say

“A thousand times yes, in every universe”

Xxx

Note: if you were wondering the actual lyrics are

"I'm blessed as a man to have seen you in white But I've never seen anything quite like you tonight"

[undercover-bun-etc]

I HAVE GOTTEN THEM TO BLINK AND SMILE WITH THEIR RIGHT EYE!!!

Learning Live2D is agony

[pearwaldorf]

I am starting a rewatch for the first time since S2 aired. It is absolutely incredible how much character growth they packed into 5ish hours, holy shit.

I have no idea what Jenkins's experience with Kiwi (and I would say specifically Maori Kiwi) media was before OFMD, but tonally it is a perfect match. The concept of a pirate themed workplace comedy fits right in with Wellington Paranormal and Flight of the Conchords (both Jemaine Clement joints as you know).

I honestly don't think this show would have worked without Rhys Darby. I know of no one else who could nail that combination and balance of absolute dumbass, utter insanity, and earnest sweetness. In the Muppet version of the show, Stede is played by Grover.

Random observations:

I find it rare that jokes land just as hard on subsequent rewatches, but this show delivers consistently. Stede's first pirating, Lucius doing the Pinocchio voice? Remains 👌🏼

Still love Lucius putting the pieces together regarding Stede being bullied by Nigel, and the heavy mental sigh he makes knowing he has to watch out for this dweeby baby gay because the freaks look after the other freaks

I keep forgetting how sad and awkward and lonely Stede is at the start of all this. I still find it genuinely distressing to think about how long he's spent hoping for somebody to understand him, even a tiny bit. He's come so far!!

[6flyingosprey6]

Ok, so as a long time Bad main, I’m just going to say this:

There is no way that Dapper is working with the Feds.

At least not willingly.

Either that, or everything from the last 5ish month was just an act. But I doubt that. Five months is a long time to keep up that sort of thing.

We all remember the apology brownies right??

The countless hours that Dapper has spent with Bad? Hell, he’s one of the most active eggs on the server. He and Bad have arguably one of the closest relationships on the server simply because they’ve spent so much time together.

Not to mention he’s one of the most well informed eggs when it comes to knowing about the horrors of the federation. Bad hides nothing from him.

What I’m saying is, this would be completely out of character for Dapper to betray Bad.

So either Dapper is being forced to act against his will,

Or we haven’t ever really known Dapper in the first place.

[sadaveniren]

I don’t believe in BG either bc the Briana pregnancy was so messy however this whole storyline everyone has made up for Louis if it was real really confuses me? Everyone talks about how if it’s real he must be a shit dad because he didn’t pay attention to him for years but how would anyone know that?

We’re all quick to say Louis and Harry are still together and we haven’t seen them together since 2016 because everything is private and due to their closet. But it would be the same for Louis and Freddie if he was his dad, it would be private? When Louis goes MIA, we genuinely have no idea where he is or what he’s doing. If it did happen to be real, then he could be with the child in private and not going places that he knows he would be seen by fans or paparazzi? It’s not like paparazzi follow his every move anymore aswell and they haven’t for years now.

Look I’m not trying to argue, I agree about BG however I just don’t understand this argument everyone has made up if Freddie did happen to be his because it just makes us look like other idiot fans who come up with narratives to suit them.

Okay this is a perfectly understandable argument and follows really great logic, except I was here in 2016. I don’t know if you were but anyone who is here in 2015/2016 can tell you that this argument doesn’t hold up because of what was happening in 2016 and things we were informed of by Louis himself/witnessed happen in real time.

In 2016 we essentially had a live feed of where Freddie was at all points in time. He was either being papped on Tuesdays with Louis and Danielle so we could see Louis “hung out with him” or he was being live-streamed by Briana/the Clarks. When fans say “Louis only spent 1 hour with Freddie in a parking lot on his first Father’s Day” that is a verifiable fact. Louis got papped in a parking lot with the Clarks. His father’s day pic is of him holding Freddie’s hand in a car seat. The rest of the day Freddie was in videos with Brett and Tammi, and Louis was off doing OTHER SHIT.

The day of Freddie’s first birthday they posted a video of Briana and Freddie and Louis in a house that was ALREADY SOLD TO SOMEONE ELSE because Briana had moved out of the house she lived in in 2016 but we still got a video from there and then Louis posted live video of himself at a concert.

Louis (and Niall) told us in 2016 that Louis did not have overnight permission. Freddie NEVER spent the night with him as a child. Even when they flew Freddie, Briana and Ashley to the UK for Jay and the XFactor Freddie stayed with Briana the entire time barring one afternoon with the twins. The most basic parental job is being with your baby when they sleep. Louis has NEVER done that. They waited until Freddie was 5ish to ship him off to the UK for holiday which is roughly the age in America a lot of white people start allowing their kids to spend the night with non-family.

Again I completely understand what you are saying. We don’t know everything. We can’t tell what the boys are doing in their spare time. Now. In 2022. But in 2015 and 2016 this was not the case. And in hindsight we now have a pretty good idea that the times we didn’t see Louis in 2016 he was with his mom in the UK. Where Freddie could not be, verifiably, because he didn’t get a passport - which btw the Clark’s very much implied getting a passport was not something they were ever going to get for Freddie - until November 2016 as an emergency order due to Jay’s passing, that the Clarks had no idea was happening.

Let me repeat that again: a British celebrity had a child with a normal American citizen. That child did not get a passport until he was forced to travel to the UK for a dying family member, that the mother’s family had no idea had been terminally ill for 3/4s of the year. Louis did not include the Clarks or Freddie in his family plans in 2016 until he absolutely had to. That is not “good parent” behavior. He didn’t start “taking care” of Freddie until he was out of being a toddler because we can do the same tracking method in 2017.

In 2017 he spent a lot of time in England and with Eleanor. Eleanor has never met Freddie. The one time she’s been to LA since BG started she was on IG stories posting her every fucking move so we knew she was NOT WITH FREDDIE. God help me I wish they did meet because I have been BEGGING for a pic of the two of them for years because you just know it’s gonna be suffering.

That is 2 years where Louis and Freddie were Very Easily Tracked. You could see where they were and what they did and if they were together with pretty good accuracy. That’s not the case anymore but it was the case back then. And that’s why we say if this was real Louis is a shit father because he didn’t start doing anything different until Freddie was at LEAST 3 or 4.

[blacksuccubusboots]

I am DELIGHTED to see that mabinogi is still around. I spent so many hours playing it when I was young. I'm not gonna lie scrolling through this blog is making me so nostalgic I'm tempted to re-download. I haven't played in many years now.

there's been a lot of big improvements in the past 5ish years due to the KR director having a real vested interest in seeing this game flourish and restructuring of content output from our own NA team. the game is a lot more kind to new/mid-game players and casuals than it used it be for sure, give it a spin! 🫶🏾

[politetim]

The Depths of Ultra, part 1

This is the first 5ish pages to a short story I wrote in undergrad. I want to be an author, I am a writer, but I work doing other things to make ends meet. This specific story is my best and most polished work, but its too long to be submitted to any competition and too short to be a book. I have no idea what I am doing. -Enjoy ------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“ -and you’ll never be!” his father growled. Eorling cringed away from the disappointment in his father’s eyes. The burning stare followed him as he ran away through an endless corridor that stretched out to the horizon and up to the sky. Behind him, his father’s scolding rant followed him, growing louder and louder until  the nightmarish specter was upon him.

Eorling flinched and groaned as someone banged away in the hallway with a pair of wooden clackers. He rolled over, peering at the wall between him and his door, as if he would suddenly become clairvoyant. He pulled himself out of bed, and the clackers sounded again. This time, whoever was wielding them called aloud.

“Up! Up, you shiftless, lazy, long-eared louts! We’re digging today! Ankirat burn your slow bones! Get out here now!”

The voice belonged to one Foreman Ozglow. Experienced and effective, he was one of the most favored foremen in all of Ultra. The stout dwarf commanded respect and not a little awe, with an armored beard and arms covered in the scars of many battles. He could also bang clackers together loud enough to wake the dead.

Eorling hastily stuffed himself into his work clothes: a thick linen shirt and canvas overalls. He stomped his feet into sturdy, steel capped boots with thick soles and wax-sealed walls that kept out the water and damp. The hat he fit onto his head was also capped with steel, and the padding inside was brand new. Overall it was a snug, comfortable outfit that was built for hard work. Dressed, Eorling drained the dregs of last night's beer that he had left, tugged his beard, wiped his mustache, and was off.

The rest of the crew was out in the hallway, stretching and scratching themselves. The Foreman was counting heads and was already geared up. A spark of excitement flared in Eorling. Today’s the start of my shift. After putting in a full forty-eight hour shift, he would be a professional miner with all of the glory that came with it. He would also finally be considered an adult. Eorling hoped it would be enough to get the respect he so desperately desired from his father. Eorling’s father was a bitter dwarf. After a smithing accident took his arm, he had become rough and callous and often directed his misery at his only son. Eorling had battled for decades to earn his old man’s appreciation, but nothing seemed to work. Maybe, Eorling thought, this will turn the tide. A nice haul of loot and a good shift of work. He can’t ignore that.

The others were all there: Rikin, the foreman’s second, who had spent more time in the dark of the depths of Tera than in Ankirat’s daylight; Azik, who always carried his pick and shovel across his shoulders and bragged about his way with the lasses at the tavern; Krozlin, the only female dwarf on the crew, who was more than a match for any of them; and Eorling, the greenbeard. Foreman Ozglow turned, nodded as he counted Eorling, then spoke again.

“Right, lads! I’ve got a treat for the lot of you, and, if you don’t appreciate it, then you can sod off! Heading to Kron three. Gear up there.”

The rest turned to hustle that way. Eorling did too, but Ozglow stopped him with an outstretched hand. The foreman’s deep amber eyes studied him seriously. Previous apprehensions about his father’s lack of acceptance crept back into Eorling’s mind.

“Watch yourself down there, lad. I ain’t keeping firm eyes on you, and neither are the others.”

“Yes, foreman,” Eorling replied.

Ozglow’s stare was unblinking. “I mean it lad. You want to be a man? Act like one. Get moving.”

The hand was raised, and Eorling carried on. He trundled along through a maze of gray, stone tunnels, navigating in the dim light by reading the tunnel names at each intersection. The flickering lantern lights would not give enough light for humans or elves or immortals, but for the superior eyesight of the dwarves it was more than enough. After a short jog, he puffed his way up to a large, mostly empty room. Other than its entryway, it had three more portals, set into angled walls at one end. All three of these arches were numbered on their keystone, with the title for this section of the mine carved above them: “Kron.” 

The rest of his crew were pulling equipment from a set of battered old footlockers, and joking amongst themselves. Rikin did not speak much, and when he did, it was in a low, soft tone. Azik was loud and boisterous, always looking to get a snide jab in, whereas Krozlin was simply untouchable by the insults, always giving back as good as she got. Azik found no purchase today and turned to Eorling.

“Greenbeard! Glad you finally caught up.” With an easy smirk, the dwarf leaned back against a wall.  “I was worried I’d have to do all the mining my own damn self!”

Krozlin snorted and retorted with her North-Laker accent. “Oh give off, you blow-beard. You couldn’t work a stout into a froth with those arms of yours.”

Azik waved a hand as if he was swatting her words away. “I told you I’m not talking to you anymore, lass. No use in it.”

“Because you cannae stand a lady.”

Eorling kept his head down as he began to untangle a harness from one of the lockers. He knew joining in was a sure way to become the butt of the joke, and he had no want to embarrass himself on his first shift. Azik and Krozlin kept going.

“I love my ladies! And they love me! You’re just a curmudgeon what doesn’t know when to stop!”

“Hah!” She laughed, pausing in the act of pulling her harness up to her hips. “ Those skinny flits at the tavern, ladies? I’ve found human lads firmer than em! Those are sickly girls, and you should keep your hands off of em!”

Rikin made himself heard. “No, he should feed them. I agree, some of the younger ones have begun looking too thin for their own good.”

“Hear that Azik? Right from one who ought to know!”

Eorling continued getting his gear on. A shovel, a pickaxe, a small hammer and chisel, his harness and some protective plates, a cap spindle to hold a candle for light, a mine mug with a hinged lid on it, metal edging for his boots, and a few brass beard-studs to keep his facial hair firmly fixed in its braided pattern. This kept it from getting frizzy in the damp of the depths. He sat to dig out his gloves, as the rest of the crew were sitting by now.

Azik turned to him. “Well, what about you? You’re young, and you don’t look too thin, but your arms could do with a good double shift.”

“Ah,” he stuttered, “m-maybe, yeah.” Eorling had never known he was embarrassed about his lack of a love life. Until now.

“So shy! Kroz, you might like this lad, he’s all meek!”

Eorling felt a blush rising as the miner lady laughed. “Maybe! But no, I’m going steady still.”

“What, with that clerk lass–”

Ozglow marched into the room, hands full with rolled parchment and the specialized equipment of a foreman, such as a compass and loupe, pens and ink, and a set of acidic vials designed to detect metal purity. Each dwarf stopped talking and stood. Allowing your foreman or superior to stand alone was a grievous offense. He stayed silent and pulled to a stop, distracted by a few extra candle sticks that were refusing to sink into his pocket. He jiggled them a bit, and they finally fell into place. Then he turned to face his miners.

“You’re all suited and ready. Good. The last crew will be up soon, so hop to it! I need three barrels of beer, a box of rations–the ones with the good jerky, mind you–a box of flints and steels, a dozen torch points, some of that Drunder Good Bread, and three lengths of chain.”

He turned to each of them “Azik, you go get the beer–and none of that Sonder Suds swill. Krozlin, you get the jerky and the bread. Rikin you get the odds and ends, and Eorling,” he said as he turned to the new miner, “get the chains. They are two lefts and a right. Well? What in Judge’s hammers are you all standing about for? Go! Get me my equipment, you slow bones!”

Krozlin cackled a laugh and they each hustled off to their duties. Eorling saw that they did not need directions to get their materials, and felt slightly ashamed that he did. He followed the direction, leaving and turning left out of the door, then left again at the nearest intersection, and finally a right. The endless grays of the dusty tunnels could be confusing, but Eorling made sure not to stray from his given path. This led him into an alley full of heavy equipment, including the chains he needed. Each chain length was standardized, being twenty feet long.

The chains were an odd part of dwarven society. Some of them had existed for a long time, helping works for thousands of years. Though it was not difficult for the dwarves to make more, there was a certain love for old chains. Each chain had a history, a lineage. Each one was a chain to the works of their ancestors, both literally and metaphorically,  and some of the lengths here were thousands of years old. In the King’s Peak, there were a set of chains that were over ten thousand years old. They had aided in great constructions and even the killing of great foes, and were venerated by all dwarves.

Eorling selected three that seemed young enough for him to move. Touching or handling older chains was inappropriate for him. He slung one over each shoulder and swayed with their weight. They were heavy, and as he grabbed for the third, he pitched wildy off balance. With a clank-filled crash, he crumpled back against the wall, smothered by the chains. Eorling struggled to stand or wriggle out of the chains; he simply could not muster the strength.

Thankfully, he did not need to call out for help, which might’ve shamed him eternally. A soft voice spoke from the mouth of the alley.

“Hands full then, greenbeard?”

[fyodoro]

hiiiiiiiiiiii!!!!

i literally love the way you write akito so. can i request akito x fem! reader who has like a younger sister whos 4-5ish? younger sis is all over him when he comes over like always tryna be on his lap and play with him and readers just like "shit now how am i gonna spend time with my bf" LMAOO I SEE TIKTOKS ON THIS AND IM JUST LIKE "aw🥹"

have a wonderhoyful day 💙

-> 𝐒𝐮𝐧𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐞 & 𝐌𝐢𝐝𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭

Having a little sister can be fun, until your boyfriend starts spending more time with her than you..!?

With Akito Shinonome, fem!reader

One of the first things Akito learned about you is that you have a little sister, really little sister. He thought it was funny that even though you were the same age, he was the youngest sibling and you were the eldest. Different upbringings that didn’t interfere with meeting each other.

You didn’t talk about her a lot, but enough for your boyfriend to wanna meet her. And since his house had a tender atmosphere due to his father and sister, why not bring him over to yours so he can meet your sister?

When you told her the news, she was just as excited as Akito. She hears you always talking about him and to him over the phone, maybe excited was an understatement. She was ecstatic. It didn’t take long before she asked what Akito’s favorite color was so she could make him a colorful card & other crafts.

“(Name) (Name), do you think he’ll like this!?”

“Of course he will (Sister’s name). If you make it I’m sure he’ll love it.”

Somehow, you were more patient for Akito’s arrival than your sister was, and she hasn’t even met the guy! She was practically bouncing off the walls, with a huge grin on her face. Deep down, you were happy that she was so happy. Some siblings wouldn’t want to meet their sister/brother’s partner in fear of them taking them away. But she wasn’t like that at all.

Every little sound outside has her looking out the window, scanning across the scenery in search of a ‘tall orange haired guy’ as you described to her. When she finally caught sight of him, she was already opening the door before he even got to it.

“I’m here- oh. Are you..?”

“It’s me! (Name’s) sister, (Sister’s name)! And you’re ‘Kito!”

“…’Kito..?”

Typically, only you would call him that. Anyone else who called him that even in a joking matter he told to stop. But Akito didn’t know if you referred to him as “‘Kito” to your sister or if she said it by herself. Either way, he thought it was adorable.

“Right, introductions. Akito, this is (Sister’s name), (Sister’s name), this is Akito, or ‘Kito, whatever you wanna call him!”

For some reason, Akito was okay with that. Maybe it was because it was your little sister, and he would feel terrible about telling her off. Before he knew it, she was pulling him into the living room and proudly showing the card she made. It was bright, very bright orange crayon scribbles and other colors like blue & pink. On it said “Welcome home Akito.”

Home? Although this wasn’t his real home, it felt like it. And it started feeling more like that the more time he spent with your sister. It’s been about an hour since he showed up, and he’s yet be alone with you.

Surprisingly, your boyfriend is really good with kids. He wasn’t harsh or mean with her at all, but genuinely nice. It felt strange seeing him like that, but it was relieving to see they were getting along so well. But…

“Okay (Sister’s name), I’m gonna go spend some time with (Name), do you go to sleep around this time?”

“I can stay up later, I wanna hang out with you and (Name)!”

You’re kidding… here you thought you’d get the quality time you desperately wanted with Akito. You love your sister, dearly. But man you wish she was asleep right now. It’s already past her bedtime, so usually it wouldn’t be a pain to get her to sleep. But since she’s so ecstatic, it might be harder.

“Actually, (Sister’s name), I think it’s too late for you to be up. ‘Kito will be here in the morning still, so you can see him then.”

“But-“

“No buts, we can’t have you losing sleep, off to bed!”

Solemnly and tiredly, she made her way to her room. You honestly felt bad, but it was already getting late, and you’ve yet too even spend alone time with Akito. You and him quietly headed to your room, where he threw himself on the bed.

It was silent for a moment, a comfortable silence. It was clear he was a bit drained from keeping up with a kid’s energy for so long, it was also clear you missed him a bit.

“I saw that face, you were jealous, weren’t you?”

“I wasn’t jealous, just felt a little left out, y’know?”

He chuckled and patted the spot on the mattress next to him, silently asking for you to lay with him. Of course, you obliged. This was time time you’ve been looking forward to all day.

He quickly wrapped his arms around you before kicking the blankets over you two. He always did this, using his legs and feet to get the blanket over you and him because he didn’t want to let go of you.

“So now I have two (Last name)’s to focus on, huh?”

“I guess so… but y’know this alone time if gonna be less frequent now right?”

“It’s okay, we still always have my place. Besides, I think I like hanging out with your sister more than you.”

You softly punched his arm as he laughed. You could tell he enjoyed meeting your sister. Before, you never saw him interact with kids, so you had no idea he was good with them until now. It was endearing in a way.

“Goodnight Akito… love you..”

“Goodnight (Name), I love you too. Sleep well..”

[awaitingfall]

11.20.24

Didn’t weigh

I made some very regrettable decisions last night. It started off poorly with eating some Japanese snacks that E brought home from his job. At the time I thought it was fine because it was just 2 small little treats. Then I ran on the elliptical. That was the only good thing I did. I made my 10k steps for the day and was on the elliptical for an hour…and then the biggest mistake happened. I was craving pasta the entire time I was on the elliptical. By the time I was finished it was almost 7pm. I thought about it for a split second. I thought I should just save my craving for the weekend. But I just wanted it so badly I didn’t think about it again and just started cooking. My plan was to only eat a few bites and save the rest for the next day…but I couldn’t stop. I just ate straight out of the pot. More than half of it was gone and I only stopped because I started feeling too full. And then I had stomach pains the rest of the night. I’m mad at myself for letting the craving get the better of me when I know I could’ve just saved it for the weekend if I was still really craving it. So now I have to deal with the consequences. I know I gained from that. So I didn’t weigh this morning. Hopefully that was a good enough lesson to not give into my cravings so late in the night again. It’s one thing if it’s on the weekend around 11am cuz my body still has all day to burn it off. But 2 hours before bed right after I spent so much time on the elliptical…I need to do better.

Tonight will be different.

I WILL be fasting. I will not eat anything when I get home no matter how “hungry” I am. I’ll just go to bed if I start getting food cravings.

Today I have to do the outdoor mail run again cuz the girl is out with a fever now, so I’m going to get more steps in and some fresh air. I’ll also have to put away more packages and lift heavy boxes so that’ll be good for me. My breakfast was some plain Greek yogurt with honey, mixed nuts, and dark chocolate chips. My snack before the mail run is 1 small banana and 1 peeled apple with almond butter. And my lunch is deli meats and cheese with cucumber, arugula, a little mayo and balsamic glaze in a pita pocket. I ate my breakfast around 6:50am, my snack will be around 10:30am, and my lunch will be around 2:30/3pm. Then I will be fasting the rest of the day.

I will not give into cravings.

I will stick with my plan.

- - -

This morning E suggested I get a part-time job after we settle into the house and I told him that’s what I would really like to do. But I reminded him that I need to start building my savings back up. I think as long as I can switch to part-time in 5ish years or when we have a kid, then that’s good enough for me. But he needs to get a couple more raises under his belt before that’s an option 😬 in this economy at least…