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soccer-love · 10 months

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Baby girl

Merle Frohms x reader

“Then let's start then.” our trainer Tommy says and I feel like I just woke up as I get up from my place in the looker room.

Even during the time he explained what we will do in todays session, I almost feel asleep.

I follow Feli outside and we start doing our warm ups.

Normally I am one of the last ones to get off the field but this time I cant wait until the session is over and I can go.

Usually we have about 60 to 90 minutes of training, depending on the weather and if we have games the day after or before, but after 40 minutes it starts raining so Tommy stops the training after about 55 minutes.

Everyone tries to get inside as quick as possible but I sit down at the floor and take a few deep breaths.

“Hey, Y/N are you okay?” I hear someone saying and Merle comes up behind me, handing me her water bottle.

“Yeah I am just tired.” I say and take a sip before giving it back, Merle offers me a hand and helps me to get up.

“Did I hurt you with that last action?” she asks and I shake my head, we where doing a little game during the last minutes and Merle accidentally tackled me down while trying to get the ball.

“No, I am okay really.” I say and we enter the locker room, I take a shower and almost fall asleep again while standing underneath the hot stream.

Everyone was dirty form the training in the rain and looks a little bit tired but I am probably the badest looking person right now.

I look like a zombie.

It takes me what feels like eternity, to put on my cloths and I barley cant keep my eyes open.

At the exit I walk into Merle, she smiles at me, before looking outside where it's still raining.

“Can I give you a ride?” she asks, knowing that I normally ride my bike here.

“Uh sure.” I answer and we run over to her car.

It’s not a long drive, but the sound of the rain against the windshield and the soft shaking of the car, makes me fall asleep even I try to fight against it.

“Y/N?” I feel someone softly shaking my arm and slowly open my eyes, I am still in the passengers seat but the rain stoped and we are standing outside my apartment building.

“Sorry, I...” I sit up and grab my bag from my feet but Merle holds me back.

“Hey, you know that I know you sine we startet playing in the U-17 together, and lately you are not at your usual best, you look tired like you haven't slept in a week.” she says, giving me a worried look.

“I am fine.”

“Seriously, I know you're not, what is up with you?”

I look down before taking a deep breath.

“You know my sister?” I ask and she nods.

“She lives with you, to support you with your baby, right?”

Five months ago, I gave birth to my beautiful baby girl, Sophia. Her father was never really in the picture and my sister moved in with me so that I wouldn't have to give-up my career.

“Yeah but she moved back to Chicago where she works a couple of weeks ago, I have someone to watch over her and when I we have games my mom come here but...” I stop because I don't want to say anything bad about the person I love the most.

“the nights are hard, she normally needs to be feed two to three times and then she needs at least half an hour to fall back asleep and I think she really misses her aunt.”

Merle grabs my hand and smiles at me.

“I think I have an idea, how about I come by in like an hour, make you two some dinner, you can take a relaxing bath and then I stay the night to help you.”

“You...no you need to sleep-”

“Y/N, I wouldn't have offered it if I didn't want to do it.”

I know that there is no point in discussing with her, Merle is a really strong minded person and won't give up so easily.

“Okay.” I say and grab my back.

“See you later Y/N.”

“See ya.” I say goodbye as I get out of the car.

I have to nannys wich take turns to watch over Sophia during the day and sometimes for the evenings. Sometimes I feel really bad about it that I leave my baby alone this much but I’m not ready to retire yet.

I cuddle a little bit with my daughter and fall asleep for a couple of minutes before I clean the living room a little bit up.

----

“Welcome back.” I say as Merle comes back, a bag with stuff in her hand.

“Good evening to you too.” she answers laughing, following me inside.

She notices Sophia laying on her favorite blanked on the floor next to the couch, a stuffed dolphin in her hand.

Like almost everyone Merle met my little girl many times, she was actually the first one to visit me after I gave birth.

“Hey there, how are you sweetie?” she talks to Sophia sitting down next to her.

“Can I?” she asks, reaching her hands out to Sophia, wanting my permission to pick her up.

“Of curse.” I say and she takes her in her arms, smiling down at her.

I feel my heart beating a little bit faster and I don't know if it's because of Sophia or Merle or both of them together.

“So little one are you more a spaghetti and meatballs girl or a spaghetti bolognese girl?” she asks before looking up at me.

“Definitiv a spaghetti bolognese girl.” I answer and Merle laughs, she grabs her bag with one hand and walks into the kitchen.

“Can I help you with anything?”

“You can take this beautiful girl from me because I eat her up, she's just so cute and maybe set up the table, I’ll do the rest.” Merle demands and I nod, taking Sophia from her.

I set the table and then just watch Merle cooking, getting lost in my thoughts.

The way she cooks is the same way she plays soccer.

With passion and love.

I cant help but stare at her hands, watching them cutting onions and stir in the pot with the sauce.

These hands are thousands maybe millions of dollars worth.

And then I realize how lucky I am,

One of the best goalkeepers in the world, is standing in my kitchen.

Sometimes I have these moments where I realize that I am surrounded by stars, that my friends are famous.

Don't get me wrong, I wouldn't say that no one knows me but I am defiantly not as known as they are.

My mom is German and my Dad Norwegian, I grew up in Oslo and also play for the Norwegian National Team and many people in my home country know us.

I look down at Sophia who is still laying in my arms, looking at Merle completely stunned.

And I really understand her, Merle is so extremely beautiful and she just has this vibe that you have to love her.

“I think dinner is ready.” Merle says and looks over to us.

She fills our plates and brings them over while I sit down, with holding almost asleep Sophia in my left arm.

“You now I think you are really strong for being a professional soccer player and raising a child at the same time.” she says as I take the first bite of the food.

“Wow, this is so good.” she laughs and I think I just feel a little in love with this pasta.

“And thanks but I didn't really have a choice, don't get me wrong I love my little girl to pieces but I was definitely not ready to give up my career.” I explain and Merle nods.

We eat our dinner and after that Merle practically forces me to go and take a relaxing bath while she takes care of Sophia.

“You know that you just could tell me that I smell.” I joke, making Merle roll her eyes.

“Believe me you smell wonderful.” she says pushing me towards the bathroom.

To be honest it is really great not to have to worry about doing the dishes after dinner or that I have to put Sophia to bed.

After the bath I get dressed in some shorts and one of my VFL shirts and when I exit the bathroom, the living room and kitchen is empty and I see a small light coming from my bedroom.

I walk over and see Sophia laying in her bed that is next to mine and also open to this side so I have easy access to her during the night and she doesn't feel like being speratet from me.

Sophia is laying on her side, holding onto the collar of Merles shirt with her tiny hands. While Merle is fast asleep next to her, wearing the same shirt that I have, she must have got changed while I was laying in the bathtub.

I grab a blanket from my dresser and softy place it over her, she looks so peaceful while sleeping.

As quiet as possible I lay down next to her and pull another blanked over myself before turning of the lights.

Sunlight is falling over us as I wake up again, I must have turned around in my sleep and I a arm over me, only then I realize that there is a body behind me, really really close to mine.

I smile against the wall and feel Merle pulling me closer, her warm breath hits my neck and I think I feel safer than I ever did before.

As I wake up again, she is gone but as I turn around I see her standing next to the bed, Sophia in her arms as she is feeding her with a bottle.

“Look who is awake.” Merle says and I smile at them.

“I didn’t even hear her crying.” I sit up and undo my hair tie, letting them fall over my shoulders,

“Oh she wasn't, she slept through the night and when I woke up earlier she was just a little whine so I got up and made her a bottle.”

“I cant believe it.” I say and look at my daughter.

“Last night you woke me up four times and now you just learned to sleep the whole night.” I add and Merle laughs.

“Maybe she was relaxed because she felt that you are.”

I node and get up, kissing Sophia on the cheek and I almost kiss Merle too but I can hold my self back.

We have breakfast together and spend the morning together before Merle has to leave because of goalie training.

-----

After this night, it becomes a habit that she comes over almost every day. Sometimes she even stays for the night, sleeping with my in my bed, but since Sophia started sleeping through the nights I am also more awake during the day.

Often we end up cuddled together in the morning and I feel myself falling over her more every day.

I mean I already had a small crush on her but now I really know that it is more than that.

She makes me feel safe and her arms feel like home to me.

We always were roommates for our away games but since she's staying at my apartment more often it kind of feels different.

Even there we wake up close together and I don't know if I am imagining it but I feel like there is sometimes this tension between us, like when we are sitting close together on our beds, or when we are doing weight lifting together.

But I am not sure if it is really there.

And I don't want to talk about it with her because I don't want to loose her, it would break my heart and probably Sophias too.

I love the way she acts with my daughter, she is just so kind hearted and a real angel.

Oh fuck i am so damn in love with her....

#dfbfrauenteam x reader #dfbfrauen #dfbfrauenteam #merle frohms x reader #merle frohms #vfl wolfsburg women #vfl Wolfsburg frauen x reader #woso #woso x reader #woso imagine #lgbtq #love is love

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mirrorthoughts · 8 months

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The Identity Crisis of Desmond Miles

Alright, here we are 😂 Thanks to everyone who has voted on my poll (and yes, I know it's not over yet but I wrote this already anyway 😂), I’m actually surprised I got more than 10 votes (and all of them on a yes 💕(the one for the results was mine 😂I wanted to see how it’s going)).

So yeah, Blorbo thoughts about Desmond’s brain, how the Animus maybe-probably works on it and how it’s actually possible that Desmond still has a (probably in the end very weak) grasp of his own identity (below a readmore, because I don’t know how long this will get 😂😂)

The Start

First a few facts I will base this whole… essay on

Desmond learns skills from his ancestors, so the Animus has to impact him deeper than only on a surface level (surface level would be like playing a VR version of a game).

I don’t have the precise ages/dates in mind for the lifespans of Altair, Ezio and Connor, but even if I’m being conservative we’ll get at least 80+ years of other people’s memories in contrast to Desmond’s 25 years of life (…just realized he’s about half a year older than me, so maybe it’s not a surprise he’s one of my forever-blorbos <.<…), one of those, namely Ezio’s he actually ‘lived’ from birth to retirement (= ~55-60 years).

AC Revelations is the only real glance into Desmond’s own memories (aside from what he tells us at the beginning of AC1 and 2). From a doylistic view I know that Ubisoft probably just didn’t want to expend more effort to create Desmond’s memories the same as his ancestor’s, especially because they probably knew at that point they would kill him in the next installment anyway. From a watsonian view the way his memories are all bare bones - mostly his voice talking as if it was a story he remembers and not something he actually lived, without people/faces and places he knew - comes across as if he doesn’t really remember all that much anymore, as if they were really old memories buried by the rest of his (or rather his ancestors’) life.

The brain can hold a lot of information and memories. Even more than you might think. We all know about those Guiness World Records guys that taught themselves to easily remember a myriad of numbers, words, things, whatever. I actually recently saw a very good video about how to do that even as a ‘normal person’. And I’m not even talking about people with photographic, eidetic, echoic or other types of ‘perfect memory’. So, I think we can agree on: the brain is fucking awesome (most of the time) and probably can actually handle the 130+ years Desmond has experienced.

Desmond

Desmond’s ‘life’, according to what his brain experiences when he was in Abstergo’s hands looks a bit like this: Desmond (25yrs) -> Altair (however many days/weeks) -> Desmond (one night’s sleep) -> Altair (however many days/weeks) -> Desmond (one night’s sleep) -> repeat until he gets broken out of Abstergo.

And it only gets worse. Yes, he gets more “free time” when he’s with Shaun and Rebbecca, but at the same time he experiences weeks, if not months of Ezio’s life at a time! Sometimes even years. (We can argue about how the time jump-function works in the Animus, but he still gets the information of what happened how during that time because Ezio knows all of that shit, so even if it’s not as detailed as what he actually actively lives through he still gets the memory of what happened during that time as far as I’m concerned).

And then we have the most extreme ratio in Revelations: Mere seconds of being Desmond (hello computer/brain-speed!) against another few months/about a year of Ezio’s time.

During AC3 it’s not as clear cut how much time he spends in the Animus, thanks to them being inside, but I’d guess they’re about at the same ratio as with AC2, maybe a bit better since he does get to go on missions outside.

In total that makes maybe three months of Desmond’s time (it’s about half a year from when he got kidnapped to when he dies minus all the time he was in the animus. Tbh I think it’s even less than three months he has as Desmond/himself during that time) against literal decades of memories and experiences of his ancestors during the same time. And of course the Bleeding Effect that even disturbs his ‘Desmond time’.

So much for the ‘mathematical’ side of it all 😂

To summarize: Every memory that Desmond makes as himself is overshadowed by dozens of memories he makes as one of his ancestors. So piece by piece, Desmond’s own memories get buried deeper and deeper in his head and those 25 years he actually was only Desmond get fainter and fainter as the new memories he’s making as his ancestors are getting favored by his brain.

Identity Crisis

At this point, it wouldn’t be surprising if Desmond really believed himself to be Ezio, right? After all he’s lived about 55 years of Ezio, he remembers being born as him (and wasn’t that an awkward scene to play… nevermind experience for Desmond), growing up as him, and of course everything we as the player played through with Ezio. And although aside from some verbal outbursts against especially Lucy and a few scenes of the Bleeding Effect we actually don’t see much of it during the game (as far as I remember at least). But we also know about the in-game consequences of using the Animus in detail - hello Clay - and that Abstergo doesn’t really care about the effects of the Animus on their victims as long as they get from them what they want/need.

And yes, Rebecca’s Baby 2.0 was optimized by her to make it better/easier for Desmond. But better/lesser effects still means there will be some effects. And also… afaik Rebbecca has her informations about the Animus from whatever Lucy ‘smuggled out’ of Abstergo. Lucy is said to be a Templar spy, so what informations did she really give Rebecca? Bc as far as I’m concerned it would be to Lucy’s/the Templar’s advantage if Desmond would find them what they need more or less by his own choice and then is brain gets scrambled to hell and back so the Assassins won’t be able to get more informations themselves, right?

Anyway, @Raett (who was a lovely participant in the discussion of these thoughts) hit me with that lovely sentence of “If you've spent more time being 'Ezio' than being 'Desmond' than what's to say [you aren’t] Ezio with memories of Desmond?”

And… just imagine. You’ve just gone through decades of memories, your own memories are faint right now (see point 3) and you’re not quite sure if those actually are your memories or if that’s just something you’ve seen. Maybe you are Ezio after all? Maybe you only dreamt of those ‘memories’ of Desmond - after all that weird vision of a woman that called you the Prophet also talked about someone with that Name! Okay, alright, then you are obviously Ezio, right? You remember your family, your sister, after all you write to her regularly when you are not visiting. You remember Constantinopoli, you remember traveling to Masyaf, you remember finding Altair’s body, his memories.

Wait.

You remember more of Altair then the memory discs have shown you. How can you remember more of Altair’s life? It was already a miracle in your eyes that you saw his memories at all! You remember someone named Connor, Ratonhnhaké:ton. You remember him living in the future, not as far as Desmond, but still far closer to him than yourself. How can you remember the future if you are Ezio? But you remember your - Ezio’s - whole life, so you have to be Ezio, right? But you also remember Altair’s life. Not all of it, but years of it. And you remember Ratonhnhaké:ton, remember how he became Connor, remember his work and life up to somewhere in his later twenties.

And you remember, though faintly, Desmond. You remember that diabolical machine Desmond used. You remember what he was forced to do.

You can remember remembering, reliving your memories.

Are they really yours? Or maybe, maybe you aren’t Ezio after all.

Remembering

So, now that Desmond’s gone through that circle of ‘who am I?’ and ‘I’m Ezio, right?’ and ‘I have to be Ezio, but I can’t be Ezio, so who am I?’ probably more than just a couple of times, what actually is it that brings him back every time?

The short answer is probably ‘reality’, even though that sounds dumb as fuck at first 😂

But in a wider sense that’s actually true. A person’s memory doesn’t only consist of seeing and hearing things, as much as someone who played the games might get the impression because the average person has yet to be able to smell/feel/taste things from computer games 😂.

And that’s the crux, the only thing that actually saves Desmond from loosing himself completely: Sensory impressions, which are a great trigger to remember things.

The clothes he’s wearing don’t feel like any of his ancestor’s clothes. Their make and design are completely different, the fabric was produced in a different way, the clothes themselves, like underwear are even a modern invention (modern men’s underwear is actually largely an invention of the 1930s). And of course nowadays most people wear a lot less layers than it was custom in most of human history.

Then there’s sound and smell (and visuals of course), a modern city is so much louder than even ancient Rome has been. More people (the world’s population is more than 20 times larger than during the 1400s (Ezio was born in the latter half of that century). And between 2011 and 2023 we actually gained another Billion of people on this world!), loud and smelly cars, food stalls, tared streets, large buildings and modern architecture. Cities in general.

And of course he has his companions who would jog his memories by being there.

And his companions are the ones who also trigger another sense of Desmond: touch. Or at least I hope they do <.< touch starvation is a bitch and even a hand on your shoulder or sitting closer together and almost touching and stuff like that do help a lot.

In the same vein we also have Desmond’s own bodily awareness by the way. Especially after months of mostly lying in the Animus he won’t be as strong or enduring as his ancestors and when I think about how Ezio’ running around Rome in his armor… well Desmond definitely has a long way to get anywhere near that strength 😂😂😂 So, his body doesn’t feel like either his ancestor’s bodies. And he also has different markings on his body than them (aside from the scar on his lip that he shares with Altair and Ezio) and, of course, he has his tattoo.

And I think that’s what is grounding him the most. While he sure as hell can fall into one of his ancestors’ personalities when he’s hiding somewhere in the woods, cars - and technology in general - and cities and people have the best chance at pulling him back into himself. Even small things like a tea one of his ancestors remembers that just doesn’t taste quite right. Because over the hundreds of years the plants used to make that tea changed by natural evolution or - more likely - by cultivation through humans.

Coping

I’m kinda curious what they would have done with Desmond if he’d survived in canon. But since they didn’t really let him survive (I’m expertly ignoring the Reader btw.) we will never know an answer to that, I guess <.<…

Though I think with a bit of therapy he’d actually be able to compartmentalize the memories of his ancestors quite well? I mean… I actually think I saw something similar in a fanfic, but since each of their lives was so uniquely different I think it would actually be pretty clear cut to shove each of them in a dedicated space - like a mind palace or something.

I mean, mind palaces work by using a place (real or imaginary) that you know very well and kinda… sort what ever you want to remember in those places. Other than Desmond who mostly has the farm (and I don’t think he’d want to use that place and revisit it every time he tries to remember something specific) each of the other three kinda has at least one dedicated space he knows like the back of his hand. For Ezio he could use Florence, Monteriggioni, even Rome (though maybe a place he isn’t going to travel to that often). For Altair Masyaf is the most likely choice in my opinion. And for Connor he has the homestead and his ship. Just places he hasn’t the same connection to as Desmond and which he can imagine well enough.

He would probably still need a shit ton of therapy for that whole thing anyway and for coping with his own childhood and how his dad is a fucking asshole, too <.<… But he would have a chance to cope, maybe even heal.

Anyway, thanks for everyone who read this far 😂😂😂 I didn’t expect to turn this whole thing into a 2k+ essay, but well, I kinda did o_O… I have no idea if I remembered everything I wanted to write, but this thing is what you get 😂 Hope you had fun! :D (And thanks for wanting to read this to everyone who voted 💕)

#seikaze #sei's brain bubbles #assassin's creed #desmond miles #this got so much larger than I anticipated #it was actually a joke that I called it 'essay' at the beginning #but welp #now it's 2.2k plus a bit long

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copperbadge · 1 year

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Sam, you are NOT a “weirdo.” The neurology of the human mind exists on a spectrum; ALL humans are *biologically* “neurodiverse” and have extremely variable interior experiences. One of the most difficult concepts for ANY writer to grasp is that of “other minds, other perspectives”, and on that you already WELL ahead of the curve. 😊😎

Yikes, my response to this turned into a whole-ass essay so first, two things:

1. Thank you for the compliment, a number of people reached out to tell me that I write very well for people who see images when they read. That is extremely reassuring so I very much appreciate it.

2. I’m about to say a lot of shit that is only vaguely, tangentially related to what you’re saying here so my usual disclaimer applies: I appreciate what you said and I am not yelling AT you, I am yelling NEAR you. :D

So. On the one hand, yes, humanity is diverse and we can only be ourselves, or a version of ourselves that is tolerable to live with. On the other hand, culture also sets down rules that say this is usual, this is unusual, this is acceptable, this is unacceptable. We don't live in a spectacular culture for "this is acceptable" but most of us are aware that what we think of as "normal" is narrow and fucked-up. But it’s tough to go beyond that to discuss how we relate to “normal”.

It's something I'm grappling with and it's not something that it's easy to grapple with visibly because of that -- because the minute you call yourself weird or a freak or anything that denotes "not normal", or even when you just talk about “normal” as a concept, people reassure you that normal is an illusion, it's a construct. Which is true! And it’s good to model self-acceptance for people who are still struggling with that.

The problem is that it limits how much you can discuss feeling outside of normal. And I do feel that way, because of the ADHD diagnosis and other stuff too. I feel that way a lot, these days. Like, a painful amount. Like, a questioning who I am on some very basic levels amount. So...there have to be ways to talk about the reality of normal.

While normal is a construct, it’s still there -- as a culture we have a concept of normal that matters, regardless of whether it ought. We don’t have great pathways to say “Hey, I’m struggling with feeling like I’m not normal” because people want to assure you that you don’t have to feel normal...but sometimes you want to, because normal is what is culturally approved and it’s hard to be an outlier. Worse, if you’re visibly outside of normal, we tend to very violently police you for it.

I’m lucky in that I’m pretty ordinary-looking, so I don’t get policed very often, but I‘m very aware of the policing of invisible disability because I have siblings with learning disabilities, and my whole family has some degree of mental illness. Lately I have watched my mother struggle because she needs aids to walk and feels like people are staring at her and saying she’s old and of no worth, a drain on society. The world reinforces that by doing things like making her get to the airport FOUR HOURS EARLY in order to get wheelchair service (and then “losing” her name so she still almost misses her flight).

You don’t have to be normal, but if you aren’t, you still have to put up with the dickheads who think you should be, who will punish you for deviance. There's a disparity between "healthy ways for you to feel about this" and "how society will feel about this".

To circle back to my mother, who internalized the ableism and misogyny of the 1950s and 60s and barely escaped being labeled a Fridge Mommy in the 80s because of my brother’s autism....I was raised in a family where there was a very strong value placed on being normal. It was particularly strong for me, because I was the normal one. My parents could not handle the idea that all of their kids had special needs. They needed me to be normal, not least because if I was normal I could help raise my siblings, which I did. And that's been my identity my whole life: the normal one.

Normal is a construct but unfortunately it’s the construct on which my entire identity has hung for forty years.

And my attitude -- not that this was conscious -- was that if you have to be forced into that role, if you must fulfill the exhausting demands of being normal, then you should also get the rewards. The more normal you are, the more power you have. That’s incredibly unhealthy but it’s even more harmful not to admit it happened. And so I have been shoving myself into this identity of “Oh no, that’s not me. I’m not disabled, I’m not queer, I’m not special, I’m a mediocre white dude” because to admit otherwise is to relinquish the protection of normal.

So...I wish we had a word like “normal” but with an extra connotation of “Look, I know normal is just a privileged idea of what everyone should be but it’s also heavily enforced in our society so we need to acknowledge it still exists”.

I’m not normal. I am a weirdo. I’m more a weirdo now than I’ve ever been. There has to be a space to say that, to say “Normal exists and I’m not it and I feel fucked up about it” because how else do you rebuild an identity?

I think it is important to reassure people that normal is an idea, not a law of nature, and I appreciate everyone who chimed in with that. But I think it’s also important to acknowledge that it’s really hard to suddenly find yourself outside of normal, and start thinking about ways in which we can support that struggle when we see someone stuck in it. Maybe disability activists have something to say about this and I’m covering old ground; I’m not well-read beyond the basics. I don’t know what the answer is myself, I’m still really stuck in the middle of this, but I think there must be more options open to us than the reassurance that normal isn’t real.

#disability #mental health #ableism

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romanarose · 5 months

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Lights

Jackson!Joel Miller x Jewish!OFC (second person)

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Summary: Two holiday lighting traditions warm Jackson's town square and Joel's grumpy heart.

Warnings: It's mostly just fluff lmfaooo at most theres a scene where Esther is thinking about the outbreak, she mentions the holocaust and other antisemetic violence in the real world and antisemitism i just kinda made up in TLOU. It just seemed realistic.

Immersability: Labled as OFC but told in second person. This is my take on "Esther" who Tommy tries to set Joel up with between TLOU 1 and 2. No description other than name, fem, and Jewish.

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*****************

“This is stupid” Joel muttered to himself. He was too old for this. Nearing 60 was an insane age to be asking a woman on a date. Joel knew Tommy had been trying to push them together and at first, Joel was not at all interested… but it was hard not to fall for you. Whatever, it couldn’t hurt, right?

Your front door opened, and you were clearly startled to see Joel there, but not disappointed at least. “Oh! Joel? What are you doing here?”

“Shit, sorry, didn’t mean to scare yuh, was justa ‘bout to knock.”

“It’s okay.” You relax. “Can I help you with something?”

You were so sweet. “Well, yeah I actually wanted to ask yuh…” Joel hesitated. This was so stupid. Why was he so fucking nervous? “Well the town’s christmas tree light’n ceremony is in a few days and um, well, I was hope’n maybe you’d wanna go?” He paused. “With me, I mean.”

Softly, you smiled at him, but you were taking way too long to answer. He prepared himself for rejection, because anything other than an enthusiastic yes was bound to be a disaster. “That’s very sweet of you, but, I’m Jewish, actually.”

Oh. That was new. He didn’t know tha. Joel realized he operated under the assumption that everyone was either christian by practice or by culture. Not that he didn’t think other religions still existed but he was just a small town southern man at heart. Not exactly a think outside the box type of man, and Jackson only had the one preacher after all, a vague non-denominational type. Act normal. “Well, uh, that’s great” Dumbass. He watched your lip quirk up a little. “Well, the ceremony isn’t really a religious thing.”

Relaxing, you lean up against your dorm frame. You cross your arms but not unwelcomingly. “You’re tell’n me the old preacher man ain’t gonna say a few ords about the miracle of the birth of a Messiah I don’t believe in?”

Joel felt a little stupid, and worried he’d offended you. Looking down, he scoffed his boot a bit and started his apology tour. “No, no yer right, miss, I wasn’t think’n. I apoligize, I didn’t mean to- well, I didn’t wanna be rude about yer religion and… and all that.” All that? Get it fucking together, Joel. “I’m sorry, miss, I’ll be going-”

“Joel.” You stop him, a teasing smile on your face remaining kind. “It’s alright, you didn’t offend me, honey.” You sigh, then stand up. “Listen, normally I’d just go. I like town stuff and lights are pretty, and it’d just ignore the preach’n like I did when I was in high school. But, the day of the ceremony is the first night of Hanukkah, and I ain't even got a menorah to light, ain’t for decades. Would feel wrong to light up someone else’s religion when I can’t even celebrate mine, you know?”

Joel couldn’t say he quite got it. He was raised southern baptist of course but hasn’t really kept up outside of obligatory holidays. He had Sarah baptized, but didn’t pray for years since she died, save for the moment he had the gun to his head, praying God would take him to where she was… He’d prayed a few times here and there, sometimes when Ellie or Tommy were in danger, and last winter when his nephew, Jack was deathly sick as a newborn. Yeah, he’d bow his head during services but he really only went because Tommy asked him to make an appearance sometimes, said it was good for Jack to see his family at church. Ellie didn’t go, churches and prayers making her uncomfortable now.

Still, just because he wasn’t religious doesn’t mean it wasn’t important. It clearly was to Tommy. “I get it, I’ll leave yuh be then.” He turned to leave.

“Hey Joel?”

“Yes ma’am?”

“I’d love to take you up on your offer to another event.”

Joel had promised to make good on that, but already he was formulating a plan in his head. It hadn’t really occurred to him how down bad he was for you, how much wanted you, to hold you, to kiss you, to- He shook his head.

“Maria?” Joel called as he let himself in.

She rounded the corner holding his almost 3 year old godson. “Sure Joel, come on in.” Maria said sarcastically, but smiled.

“Gimmie” Joel made grabby hands to Jack.

Maria continued her sarcasm. “Hi Joel, I’m great, thank you for asking.”

“Sorry.” He didn’t look too sorry as he lit up when Jack dove out of his moms arms to him.

“Unca Jojo!!!” He squealed.

“Heya buddy!” He cringed when he got a whiff of him. “Jesus, Jack Jack, you stink!”

Maria nudged Joel to the bathroom. “You can change him, since you’re so excited to see him. And watch you language, you know how Tommy feels about that.”

Maria and Joel side eye each other a look. The pair had found common ground over the years. They both cared about Jackson, both loved Tommy and would do anything for Jack. However, recently, him and Maria had come to more than just an understanding, they’d actually begun to like each other, bonding over Tommy’s “come to Jesus” episode. Maria was decidedly not religious, but not athiest. Joel often found himself searching for Maria’s eyes when Tommy did or said something, and he often found them already smiling at him. Tommy had a rule against swearing and using the lord's name in vain around Jack, which Joel tried to respect.

“Where’s Tommy?” Joel asked.

“Oh, I see you remember your dear brother all of a sudden.” She teased him. “He’s upstairs, I’ll go gab him-”

“Actually, I came to see you.”

“Oh. Everything alright?”

“Can’t I see my dear sister-in-law without something being wrong?”

She simply cocked an eyebrow at him.

“Fine, fine. But no, noth’n’s wrong. I just wanted to ask you, since you were a big city woman and all that. More knowledgeable than this small town hick.” Joel referenced himself.

“Hick!” Jack repeated excitedly as Joel tugged on a new pull up. “Hickie! Hickie! Hickie!”

Maria laughed. “You’re explaining Jack’s new word to Tommy.”

Joel smiled, pulling up his pants. “That’s what uncles are for.”

“Whaddya wanna ask?” They exited the bathroom.

“Do you know anything about judaism?”

Maria burst into an uncharacteristically loud laugh, then called up the stairs. “Tom! You win! I owe you a foot rub!”

“Ew.” Joel grimances. “What could you possibly put on the line to touch his nasty feet. You know he got athletes food so bad he permanently lost two two nails right?”

“Yes Joel, we’re married. I’ve seen his feet. Believe it or not, I’ve even seen him naked.”

Joel gagged. “What the bet? Or do I not wanna know.”

“Tommy was insistent he could get you and Esther today if he played his cards right.”

“How do you know this is about Esther?”

“How many Jewish people do you know in Jackson?”

“Until an hour ago, none.”

“You though a woman named Esther was a gentile?”

“My named Joel, that Hebrew.”

“Fair enough.”

Tommy skipped down the stairs, not as fast as he might have been years ago but still that spring in his step Joel hoped he’d never lose. “Heya Joel! You finally ask Esther out?” He smiled broadly, that shit eating grin he always had when he thought he was right. Tommy reached out his arms for Jack, but Jack stayed with Joel.

“Yeah, and I looked like a fucking idiot.”

“Nothing out of the ordinary their! What did you do, bring up slaughtering an entire hospit-” Maria smacked Tommy and he stopped.

“No.” Joel emphacized, glaring at Tommy. “I asked her to go to the christmas tree lighting, and she told me she was Jewish and it was hanukkah, and now I look like a fucking backwards hick and she probably hates me and-”

Maria pinched the bridge of her nose. “She doesn’t hate you.”

He shrugged. “Maybe not. She did say she’d like to go out another time but that was probably to get me off her porch.”

“You anxiety ridden idiot.”

“I don’t have anxiety!”

“Sure, your goddamn panic attacks are for fun-”

Tommy snatched his son out of Joel’s arms. “Hey! Language!”

Joel and Maria apologized, and Tommy took Jack to the kitchen table to feed him a snack.

“What did you need help with, Joel” Maria asked him, bringing Joel back to the original purpose of his visit.

“What the fuck is a menorah.”

“JOEL!” Tommy glared at him, and Jack started muttering fuck, fuck, fuck as Maria and Joel tried to stiffle a laugh, glancing at each other.

It was a few days later as you watched the sun setting from your back window. You couldn’t do much, but you had managed to make a few traditional treats, latkes and friend donuts. Hanukkah didn’t need fancy meals, but oily food, traditionally. Still, you wished you could do more. Over the last 20 years, survival had been the primary thing on your mind. There wasn’t time to celebrate holidays when you were barely alive. How do you observe Shabbat when every single day requires hard work just to make it through? When you settled into Jackson this year, you slowly began begging able to observe more and more, but it wasn’t like the small Wyoming town had a Jewish population. You were the only Jew you knew, but it wasn’t like you were super obvious about it.

You didn’t really hide it, but it wasn’t something you shouted from the rooftops. When everything fell apart, you quickly learned that conspiracies in the QZ’s spread that the outbreak was a Jewish conspiracy, that the governments were ran by Jews, so on and so forth. You learned to keep that part of you quiet after your window got shot out for having a Star of David displayed. Jackson seemed safe, but you couldn’t be so sure.

Still, your people’s story was one of survival in the most extreme of circumstances, and the outbreak was no exception. You endured and survived, just like Jew’s had through the holocaust, through a myriad of attempted genocides, including the survival of one you are celebrating now, menorah or not. As you fry a few more latkes, you hear a knock on the door. Strange, considering you didn’t get visitors much and you figured everyone would be at the town square.

Last person over had been Joel, actually, and your heart fluttered at the memory. You desperately hoped he’d ask you out again. From the moment he walked into Jackson you fell for him. The obvious love he had for his brother, the way he protected a child that wasn’t his own… adoption was a great mitzvah, something you admired strongly about him. He was a good man, hard working, cared for his community and his family. And insanely hot. You doubted he’d have much interest in you, considering the amount of women who wanted him… the fact he wanted to ask you out verses someone younger just sealed to you the kind of man he was.

When you opened the door, you were thrilled to see that same man at your door again.

“Hey Joel, what’s up?” You ask, wishing you didn’t sound so fucking stupid. He had something behind his back you couldn’t quite see.

“Hi.” Joel smiled, nervous. “I um… well I wanted to say Happy Hanukkah and um… bring you this. I hope I ain’t over stepping but Maria said it would be fine but, what does she know, right?” He laughed nervously, still not showing you what he brought and still not meeting you’re eye. “So, if it’s inappropriate just tell me and I’ll fuck right off-”

“What is it?”

He took a deep breath, then held out the hand he had been hiding.

“Joel…” Your heart sores, touched beyond belief. He made you a menorah.

“I um, I welded it… Maria told me the basics. Brought candles too, I dunno if its supposed to be blessed by a rabbi or made from a certain metal or-”

You nearly tackle him in a hug. “Joel! That’s the sweetest thing anyone has ever done for me!”

It took him a moment to react, but soon Joel was hugging you back. You invite him inside, and he doesn’t want to intrude, but you tell him you’d love the company for the holiday.

Years and years ago, a cousin of Joel and Tommy got married to a catholic woman. Some of his family was weird about it, but Tommy and Joel thought that was stupid, so they drove the 10 hours as teenagers to go to the wedding to make a point. It was different to be sure, but something that stood out to Joel was the use of latin. Although he couldn’t understand a lick of it outside of hallelujah, 19 year old Joel thought there was something so beautiful in its use.

He felt that was as he watched you light the first candle on the menorah, saying the prayers in Hebrew. The fact you still could was vastly impressive to him. There were years where sometimes he swore he’d forgotten English, avoiding talking as much as possible. You looked so beautiful he could kiss you right there.

You shared so much with him that evening. Little pieces of your life, the story of Hanukkah, these yummy potato pancakes things… he was absolutely enthralled.

“Oh!” You gasp, looking outside. “The tree lighting! You don’t wanna miss it!”

“I’d rather be here with you, if that’s alright.”

You smile sweetly. “Won’t Ellie miss you?”

Joel rolls his eyes a little and waves his hand. “Nah, she’s got her own friend group now. Attached at the hip to that Dina girl. She don’t need this old man anymore.”

“That’s not true.” He was joking, but you wanted him to know. “She’s always gonna need her dad.”

“I ain’t her dad.” But it didn’t sound like he believed it. He held his hot chocolate in hand, looking down at it

You reach out, gently touching where his hand warmed at the base of the mug. “You are in every way that counts. You love her, and you take care of her. Blood don’t matter when you put up a shelf in her room or cook her dinner or make her eat her vegetables. You’re her dad.”

Joel smiled, looking up at you again. “It’s nice be’n here. With you.”

“I like have’n you here.”

“Maybe after Hanukkah I can make good on my promise to take you out? Jackson ain’t exactly known for its downtown restaurant scene, but I can take you dance’n, if that’s something you’d like.”

Your feel the heart palpitations, making you giddy as a young girl with a crush again. Joel made you feel like a teenager, like all the age, all the trauma, all the horrors washed away.

“I’d like that a lot.”

********************

I know this one isnt gonna go anywhere bc anything with readersreligion being specified isn't super popular, and theres no smut, but its okay <3 it's special to meeeeee

if you are looking for more jewish content, check out Seattle series on my marc spector masterlist for a emotional but sweet marc story of finding love, his religion and his family again <3

@fandxmslxt69 @runa-falls @k-ra @whatthefishh @ahookedheroespureheart @mikaelak @littlenosoul @stevenandmarcslove @pikapuff-316 @del-ightfulling @faretheeoscar @harriedandharassed @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @campingwiththecharmings @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin @milly-louise @neverwheremoonchild @winniethewife @casa-boiardi @joeldjarin

#joel miller #joel miller tlou #the last of us #tlou #tlou 2 #joel miller x ofc #joel miller fluff #the last of us fluff #jewish reader #hanukkah #hanukkah fanfiction #hanukkah special

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llamaqueenprompt · 2 years

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Single In, Single Out

Characters: Luke Paterson, Reader

Not Requested

Word Count: 0.6k

Inspiration: Wedding - Write about a family wedding where you are the only single - besides a ten-year-old.

Another family wedding to attend, another family gathering where everyone will be asking

“Do you have a boyfriend?”

“When are we going to meet someone from your side y/n?”

“You know, women’s biological clock rings earlier than boys, so if you want to have kids you better worry up,”

Y/n couldn’t handle it anymore, she just wanted them to leave her alone, let her live her single lonely life by herself, she knows that she is the only one of the cousins that has no one, but still…

“Don’t feel bad Y/n, you are not the only one, I also don’t have a boyfriend,” the little girl put her hand on her cousin’s shoulder.

“Kelsey, you are ten years old, it’s normal that you don’t have a boyfriend” she smiled at the little girl.

“No it is not, everyone in my class has one,” and she just walked away to play with the other kids, leaving Y/n alone at the table with her noisy aunts and her lovely mother.

“Well, at least you have company in your singlehood,” her mother said laughing with her aunts following suit.

Seriously? She is comparing her 20 year old daughter being single with a 10 year old being single? Y/n felt like her life was slipping through her fingers and there is nothing she can do about that. Her being single was always a sore subject in the family, everyone already expected her to at least have a ring on her finger by now.

“You know, I think she is not the only single here,” she shot her head in the direction of her father who appeared out of nowhere, “I heard that the groom’s brother is also a lonely twenty year old,” there it is, calling her lonely again, indirectly this time, at least.

Just because these people were all married before they turned 18, doesn’t mean everyone has to follow their footsteps, most of them are miserable and are just married because of their kids, it’s so wrong that she wants to wait and explore a little before settling down with someone she actually loves and that will complete her life nicely.

“You all know what? I’m done,” they looked at Y/n with their eyebrows crooked and people around them were looking over at their table since she talked a bit loudly, but at this point she don’t give two f’s “I’m done being called single in every language you people know, I am not following your footsteps of marrying my first love, because my first boyfriend was an asshole and cheated on me and now I’m in no rush to find someone to marry, I am 20 years old, for god’s sake, I am not 60 and need to find heirs for when I die, I have all the time in the world,”

They all just stared at her and then kept on talking like nothing had happened, like she was a crazy person having a meltdown. So she went outside for a little bit and sat on a bench that was originally put there for the newly married couple to take pictures, so it was filled with flowers and fairy lights.

She knew the conversation was dead for today, but it would come up another day, either at home or in another family event like this one.

“May I sit?” a stranger asked, a handsome stranger to be noted, “The speech you gave out there was actually quite inspiring,”

“Why? It made you feel good about your love life?”

“Well…not exactly,” he putted his hand in front of her, “I’m Luke Patterson, the other single person in this wedding,”

“Ohh, I’m Y/n, the original single person, nice to meet you,”

“Nice to meet you too, fellow single,” he laughed as she shaked his hand.

Maybe this wedding wasn’t going to be so bad after all.

#luke patterson #luke patterson x reader #luke patterson imagine #julie and the phantoms #julie and the phantoms imagine #x reader #imagine

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holdingforexo · 9 months

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Hello. I have a question and hope it's not too controversial. If it is, you can ignore this. Twitter never talks about the former members, but I was going through your blog and saw you actually found EXO through Tao. Do you still stan him? I'm a relatively new EXOL so I don't know too much about how it all went down. Is there bad blood? Like, does EXO still keep in touch with them? I'm most curious about Lay since he was in EXO-M with them and also in China now. I wonder if they ever talk.

I think this came weeks ago... I haven’t gotten around to replying, not because I think it’s a controversial topic, but because it’s one that requires some time to think through and type out. This is going to be lengthy, but hopefully, I address all that you’re curious about :)

Disclaimer: I’m only going to mention Luhan and Zitao. The other one does not exist.

I think it’s normal for the fandom to not talk about the former members... at least, in relation to EXO, anyways. I know some people who still follow and support the former members, but they do so separately, as individual artists outside of EXO. I see nothing wrong with that. I do it, too, actually.

I didn’t actually stan Zitao. Flashback to 2018—I was watching Negotiator, which Zitao was the male lead. I found his character enduring, so naturally, I looked up the actor. Found out Zitao started in Kpop, which led me to EXO, and I’ve been in this “We are one! EXO saranghaja!” nonsense ever since. Of course, with my luck, it was around the time Minseok enlisted.

I don’t stan Luhan either. But I like his music, so I pay attention to his discography. And because of that, I’m also somewhat updated on his other projects. I don’t follow Zitao’s projects, but both he and Luhan are doing great for themselves. They each have over 60 million followers on Weibo, and are considered top of their field. They’ve also stayed close friends since their EXO days. They’ve collaborated on music. They hang out together. Luhan is currently on his China tour, and Zitao was at one of the shows recently. They’re doing good.

As for their relationship with EXO—truthfully, I think it’s nonexistent. I obviously wasn’t around during both of their exits, but from what I gathered, everyone knew they were leaving. It wasn’t sudden, and I’m hopeful conversations were had among the members. But, while there might not be bad blood, I think it happened so early in their careers and lives, maintaining relationships afterward probably didn’t happen. It’s like when you’re in high school... those years were great, but keeping those friends in your life gets harder after you graduate. It probably also didn’t help much if SMent was actively prohibiting communication. I’m not saying they did, but I wouldn’t be surprised.

The only public interaction I remember was Luhan liking Minseok’s IG post before he enlisted. Luhan still follows five of them on IG, and Yixing follows him back. Zitao doesn’t follow any of the EXO members, and none of them follow him.

Yixing has been true and loyal to EXO. He talks about EXO normally and casually and have always referred to them as his brothers. But I don’t remember him ever mentioning the former members. It’s actually quite funny because the three of them (Yixing, Luhan, and Zitao) are arguably three of the most well-established young singers in China, but there’s a known awkwardness whenever Yixing is at the same function as the other two. A couple years back, Yixing and Luhan were on the same stage for an event, and Yixing avoided Luhan’s eyesight the entire time. I think I’ve seen Yixing and Luhan interact in public all of two times—both very casual, short, awkward greetings.

For the record, I do not think there are any negative feelings between Yixing, Luhan, and Zitao. I think Luhan and Zitao grew closer over their similar experiences, while Yixing chose EXO. I’m sure no one regrets their decisions, it’s just the way it is. I also don’t think being in the same country impacts or affects their relationships. Yixing and the rest of EXO aren’t in the same country, but Yixing consistently talks about keeping in touch with them despite the distance. At the end of the day, I think it’s the effort you put into maintaining the relationships you choose to keep in your life.

#answered

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ryuichirou · 1 year

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headcanons or ideas for older KaliJami? Like, in an older post you mentioned they might not get together till later in life, and I honestly think that’s the most realistic. By the time their older hopefully they’ve matured and grown. I don’t know what age you imagine this happening, but probably sometime between 50s-60s I’d think.

that small seed of potential romance from their youth did not die, it was just dormant. Now it can be nurtured into full bloom.

ps. They can still have sex and stuff. Older people don’t lose their sex drive. There’s been A LOT of outbreaks of STI/STDs in retirement homes.

Lol Anon, I was aware that it’s pretty normal for older people to have sex, but hearing about STI/STDs outbreaks in retirement houses is still kind of funny. I’m glad grandpas and grandmas are still having fun, I hope they stay safe though 👀

When it comes to Kalim and Jamil, I do think that it will take them a lot of time to figure things out and get together, but at the same time, I feel like it’s always going to be at least a little bit complicated with them. And even though they would’ve gotten together late, they would have an “on-and-off” thing during their entire lives: getting closer, maybe extremely close, and then pushing the other (Kalim) away. And I’m not even touching on all the potential for manipulation Jamil has with Kalim being so deeply in love with him for this entire time, because we’d be here all day, and we’re not here for that lol

Here is a couple of thoughts.

They will definitely be more mature, but I feel like Jamil would still have doubts about their relationship, plus maybe feel like it’s too late for them to start being open about their feelings. Kalim wouldn’t think so. But still, now that they’re older, they are facing a whole different can of worms with a whole new set of challenges.

They would still keep their relationship a secret, mostly because of Jamil. Kalim wouldn’t see a problem with telling everyone about it, and he’ll definitely end up telling someone on accident, so I can see there being a number of people who are aware.

On a brighter note, when it comes to sex, they would cling to each other quite desperately, as if trying to make up for lost time or something. Especially Kalim, he acts like a man who’s never been fed before and then got invited to a feast.

Sex is a huge part of their relationship, at times it’s easier for them to have sex than to talk to each other. Especially at first. And despite Jamil complaining about Kalim being too intense and horny for his age, he also wants to have sex with him quite often.

They would probably start spending more time together, and I mean vacations, travelling, being away from their home and responsibilities in general. It would be Kalim’s idea, because now that they are together he feels like he is entitled to spend as much alone time with Jamil as they want.

#replies #headcanons #kalijami

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scourgiez · 22 hours

Text

more headcanons for Analelle and Lithuryn (my version of Astarion’s parents) and elf stuff. I see alot of different opinions about elf ages and elf culture so I thought I’d throw my headcanons on the pot because… well. I love elves and want to expand Analelle and Lithuryn’s characters.

I’m not a huge DND elf expert so if I get something wildly wrong or it contradicts with canon, let me know, but because I’m addicted to researching every little thing I come across i hope I’m good ahaha

Alight, I’ll start with ages because that’s a hot topic! in the fandom regarding Astarion. Very heated debate which I don’t understand because I think it just depends on personal opinion, but that’s for another day. In my opinion, no, age 100 is not the same as a human turning 18. Elves age the same way humans do until they are in their late 20's or so then start slowing down biologically. Their "age of maturity" being 100 is more about their wisdom and life experience finally being enough for another elf to consider them "mature".

Biologically, elves mature a Liiiiittle slower just due to them living so long, but it’s not drastic enough that they are considered a “child “ until they are 100 years old. For example, if a human is an adult around 18-20, an elf is an adult around 23-25. This goes for both elven and elf/human communities, unless the elf is raised by humans in which case they will be raised in human culture, but I’m assuming most human parents raising an elf child are going to be scouring the libraries anyway trying to find out why their adopted toddler doesn’t sleep. Half elves are different obviously but it would probably be the same as a human.

Within elven communities, age of consent is probably raised to 23 or 25. However, socially and culturally, age 100 is when normal elves tend to “settle down” so to speak, and is a coming of age celebration (even if they are already biologically adults, again this "maturity" is more about life experience). I assume even elven families living within human communities keep those cultural traditions of large, week long parties and celebrations when an elf turns 100. Older elves probably refer to elves under 100 as “kid” the same way people 60+ refer to people in their 20’s as “kid”.

By “settle down”, I mean beginning to get married and have children. Again, this all has to do with living for so long, and family/children being a huge part of elven culture, especially because elves (or at least high elves, wood elves i think have a higher fertility chance) have a difficult time getting pregnant and may only have one child. Elves tend to want to experience life and become more worldly before they have a child or get married, because afterwards family becomes more important than themselves. This isn’t exactly biologically hardwired (though high elves having a low fertility rate is) but there is probably a huge stigma around divorce or broken families in elven communities for this reason.

What does this mean for Astarion and his family? Astarion’s age is also a point of debate, but if we are going by him being in his mid 30’s when he died, he would probably the human equivalent of ...29? No real difference, he would be considered a young adult. However, because he is below 100, he hadn’t settled down and still had many different options on how to live his life if he didn’t enjoy the magistrate route (in my headcanon for his parents, I mention they landed him that job even though he was under qualified, so he would probably be sticking with it. Just sticking with one isn’t uncommon for elves either). I am sure there are certain cultural practices he missed out on for his 100th birthday such as the name change (old elven tradition I imagine some families have done away with) and maybe some family heirlooms getting passed down to him. This is why Astarion was never married or had kids, and possibly wasn’t even dating anyone seriously. Elves during this time would mainly just. well I can only describe it as an xp grind lmfao Before settling down and having a family (if they choose) and devoting your time to them.

However: an elf dying before the age of 100 is just extremely odd. One, I think murder is extremely uncommon in elf communities. These guys reincarnate and murder would just…. be pointless. Analelle and Lithuryn both grew up in the elven community of Evereska, and an elf dying under 100 because of murder was a concept completely impossible to them. like they straight up didn't think it could ever happen.

Last thing that doesn’t have anything to do with the Ancunin’s, and that’s the differences between high and wood elves, as well as things like sun and moon sub races. Basically, it’s that 90% of the time, if you take them from their home and dress them the in the same clothes, a non elf is not going to tell the difference between a high elf and a wood elf. Wood and high elves are culturally different from living in two different places, and as for physical characteristics wood elves have warm skin tones and high elves have cool skin tones. As for things like moon/star/sun elves, the differences are extremely specific and probably unnoticeable unless you are an elf expert or an elf yourself. (we know it as eye color and hair color differences and some personality differences but id like to think its wayyy more subtle than that). There are very slight differences that elves can tell like a 6th sense lol.

One last thing because this is already too long, and that's that there's not really accents when it comes to elvish. There are certain phrases that wood elves probably use that high elves don't know wtf they are talking about and maybe some cultural practices that are slightly different, but there is barely any accent difference between the two. Elvish is a mysterious and beautiful language that breaks some rules every now and then.

#don't let the anthropologist get their hands on elven culture✋ i'm OUT #bg3 #baldurs gate 3 #headcanons #elf culture #idk how to tag this #analelle ancunin #lithuryn ancunin

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rp-partnerfinder · 8 days

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Hi, you can call me Storm! I'm 30 and the mom of a loud and demanding cat ❤️

I’m a multiple paragraphs/novella style writer. I love to write detailed descriptions and delve into a character’s head/emotions as well as surroundings. I compare it to writing a novel together. Not every reply has to be novella length, however. If there are action or dialogue heavy scenes, I tend to do a shorter back and forth to keep the momentum going.

I only do MxF (with me writing the female role). I don’t double, but I’m more than happy to write side characters of either gender to help move the story along. I only want female authors writing male characters as I’ve had bad experiences with cis male authors. (Trans men and nonbinary pals are exceptions).

I'm really hoping to find a friendship, someone who can add to our story, and most importantly, someone who wants a long-term connection. It's difficult for me to write with someone if I don't feel that genuine bond. It's also important to me to have a high level of activity, with at least one reply a day.

If you suddenly stop replying ic and ooc, I'll drop the story after 2 attempts of gauging interest spaced a week apart. But feel free to message me if you want to pick the story back up again, even months later.

Searching For:

20+ partners only

An excellent grasp of grammar, punctuation, spelling, and capitalization. (Literate to advanced writers only, please. I'm not looking for newbies)

Plot before smut. While mature themes will be in my writing, there needs to be chemistry between our characters. I normally do a 60/40 plot to smut ratio and my characters tend to be subs/switches depending on the circumstances

An older male character (early forties to mid-late fifties). I love the gruff and tough men with dark pasts who secretly have a soft heart. I also love grumpy, hypermasculine men being intimidated by sweet but fiery women. My characters are mid-late twenties to early-mid thirties so the age gap is legal.

Enthusiasm to chat about our character and ship, how to crush them and then gushing over fluffy moments. I love crying over characters and what the heck they’re doing. I want my heart ripped from my chest from angst, then feeling like it’s going to burst from overwhelming cuteness. I want us to love these characters and the world we create. I want to make pinterest boards, spotify playlists, graphics, and toss headcanons back and forth until late at night.

Have an idea for a scene? Found a picture that inspired you? Send it to me! Be invested when it comes to plotting/worldbuilding. There’s nothing worse than receiving one sentence in reply to two paragraphs of ideas, or having a doormat partner who says “sure” to whatever I ask. Building ideas one on top of the other, watching them snowball into amazing plot threads brings me joy. But having to pull plot ideas like I’m pulling teeth makes me think you’re not interested, and I will lose interest in return.

Interests:

Modern fantasy, monsters, sci-fi, omegaverse, southern gothic/midwest gothic (i’m a sucker for that southern/texas drawl), horror, height/size difference, cheating/affair, enemies to lovers, slow burn romance, spooky small towns, post apocalyptic/dystopia, crime/mysteries, emotionally charged/dark and gritty, bodyguard x assignment, forced proximity, opposites attract, fated mates, anti heroes/morally gray characters, traumatic pasts, grumpy x sunshine, one bed, men who simp over their women, touch her / him and die, and more.

I have lots of original plot ideas in mind as well!

Fandoms (OCs ONLY)

Star Wars, Stranger Things, Mercy Thompson Series, True Blood, The Last of Us, Hunger Games, Fallout (TV Show)

I write only on discord using servers with organized channels. Like this post or add me on discord (magicofrain) if you’re interested. The most effective way to grab my genuine interest is by messaging me as if we've been friends for years. Please let me know which interests you liked from my ad.

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ya-pucking-nerd · 1 year

Text

4 times you ruined his plans and 1 time he ruined yours - c.makar

Hello lovelies! So sorry for the wait! Please enjoy <3333

taggin the moots: @2manytabsopen @jostystyles @typical-simplelove @youngbeezersmixtape @imagines-r-s @fallinallincurls @hockeylvr59

Small note: reader insert is female!

Very big note: this fic contains mentions of pregnancy and surgery and motherhood

Calgary International. Not exactly how you planned to spend your Saturday, but you wanted to be back in Seattle to rest up before you started your job again. You were on your way back from the short 4-day holiday you managed to snag after Christmas and Boxing Day. You stayed with your brother, Michael, and his family of 7. It was nice, but 5 kids are so many kids.

You had gotten anxious about missing the flight, so you arrived at the airport 4 hours early and, fortunately, breezed through security. All that remained was waiting the 3 hours and 52 minutes until your flight officially left the gate. Well, at least you had a book and headphones.

You sat near your gate, still nervous that you might lose track of time and miss the calling of your flight. But you set an alarm for 60 minutes before the flight would leave so that you would have plenty of time to await the calling of flight AIRCAN1442. So, for now, you set your phone aside and pull out your iPod Nano and headphones. Call it old-school, but that thing worked as well as the day you got it. Your current read is a book called It All Ends with Us by Colleen Hoover. You loved it so much, that it was actually a re-read. And apparently, the guy who sat across from you did, too. You noticed him staring, and at first, you thought it was at your book, but the more you thought about it, maybe he was looking at you.

He was cute in a boyish way. Solidly built, but you could tell a lot of it was muscle. He wasn’t dressed like a snobby businessman, but rather a guy who wanted to be comfy on his flight to wherever he was headed, like you.

In a moment of boldness, you closed your book and said, “Where are you off to?” It was small talk, but hey, you still had 3 hours to kill.

“Oh. Me?” He looked stunned that you even looked his way. “I’m headed back to work in Denver, Colorado.”

“Oh, that’s awesome! I work in the states, too. Seattle, Washington.”

“What do you do?” And for once, he seemed genuinely interested, unlike the men you had met at bars.

“I’m a surgical OBGYN.” Now, that might have freaked him out a little.

“Oh wow. Sorry, I’m a little squeamish about blood. But wow. I can’t even imagine. That must be exciting. I hardly remember when my mom was pregnant with my brother, but I just remember my dad said there was a lot of screaming. Do you get screamers all the time?”

Ok. He was absolutely adorable. His cheeks were getting bright red as he asked, aside from the redness you already noticed. Doctor thing.

“I don’t generally do normal births. More like C-sections and stuff. But, yea, there’s always screaming. Occupational hazard, I guess. I’m Y/N.” You reached your hand out.

“Oh, shoot. I didn’t even ask your name. I’m sorry, Y/N. I’m Cale, like the vegetable, but with a C.” He shook your hand a little longer than most handshakes last. He was still smiling, though.

You giggled a little. He probably got that all the time and had become accustomed to introducing himself that way. Further increasing his adorableness.

You guys talked for about 2 hours until Cale checked his watch. “Shit! I missed my flight! Oh my god.”

“Oh my god! I am so sorry! I-“

“Nah,” he interrupted. “You know what. I think everything happens for a reason. I’m glad I met you. I would miss my flight all day to keep talking to you.” He was so sweet. “But I do need to rebook my flight,” he laughed.

“And I do need one more thing.” You looked at him and nodded, silently asking him what that could be. “Your number?”

You had talked to Cale almost every day since you met him. It seemed the two of you would never get the chance to meet up in person. Until Cale texted you on Tuesday.

From: Cale like the vegetable but with a C

“Y/N! I have a game Thursday night in Seattle! There’s a morning skate, but my afternoon would be free. Wanna grab coffee somewhere? You know Seattle better than me :)”

The butterflies in your stomach were uncontainable at this point. You knew you liked him, but you just now realized how big of a crush you had on him.

Frank, the best birthing coach on the floor, popped up in front of you with a smirk on his face.

“Heyyyyy, Y/N.” Ok. He was up to something.

You put your phone down and took the bait. “What’s up, Frank?”

“Who has you smiling at your phone? You haven’t smiled at your phone since Paul from oncology asked you out on a date. That was three years ago, honey. You, you are not subtle.” Caught red-handed. The worst part was that he was right. Super right. You haven’t been on a date for almost three years. You were a devoted doctor, always on-call. Sometimes it ruined your nights out with your coworkers, but half the time, they ended up running to the hospital with you.

“Frank. I- No. It’s nothing.”

Frank smirked before he grabbed your phone and started texting faster than any average human should be able to. It was no use trying to grab it back because Frank was the sneakiest and most agile person you’d ever seen. Frank could probably do more intense gymnastics than Simone Biles if it meant he would keep your phone.

He comes back with your phone and a smirk on his face.

“First date secured, bitch.” And the smirk grows to a smile. “Thursday at 2 at Pike Place.”

You groaned. “Frank! I’m on-call Thursday afternoon!”

“Y/N, chill. Literally, nothing is going to happen. And if it does, I’ll hold them off. It’s just pregnant ladies.” He laughed it off as if giving birth was something you could just hold like your bladder.

You glared at him but were secretly happy he took the initiative instead of you. You would have typed and deleted and re-typed for an hour before answering.

Thursday morning came, and you woke up giddy. You Facetimed Frank to get his opinion on an outfit. He picked the grey sweater dress with a red flannel tied around the waist, calling it “the perfect winter outfit!” Wallet? Check. Keys? Check. Spare scrubs in case you are called in? Unfortunately, check.

Meanwhile, the boys were giving Cale a hard time in the hotel. He was dressed in his suit because after your date, he had to head straight back to the arena for the game. Nate was messing his hair up. JT hid one of his dress shoes. By the time he got out the door, he was more nervous than ever. He wanted to ask you to be his girlfriend. The boys teased him for his crush, but he knew how he felt. You were his dream girl.

You decided to meet at Starbucks. Seattle, after all, was the home of the original Starbucks. When you got there, you found Cale sitting in a booth, looking incredibly good in his suit. You started to doubt your choice in outfit, but it was too late. He saw you. You straightened your dress out and walked over. He stood up, giving you a hug and handed you a latte.

“Cale, you didn’t have to.”

“I know, but I wanted to. I guessed on the latte. I can get you another if you don’t like it.”

“No, it’s actually perfect.” So now the perfect guy already got your coffee order right. It was too good to be true, right?

Things were going so well. The conversation felt so natural, like you were already dating. You found out he was continuing some online classes while playing hockey, he was a type-a neat freak, and he called his mom at least once a week because he loved her. Each thing you learned about him made your crush on him grow.

About an hour and a half into the best first date of your life, your phone buzzed. Inwardly, you prayed that it was just Frank texting you about a funny hospital story. Unfortunately, it was a page. A mom with twins went into labor 6 weeks earlier than her due date. You groaned out loud.

“I have to go. I’m so sorry. Oh, I knew this was going to happen. I’ve been paged to the hospital. A mom needs an emergency c-section. Cale, I’m so sorry.”

“What? Y/N, go! Don’t apologize. I know your career can be a bit unpredictable. It’s no big deal. Go, save the day!” God, he was perfect. You thanked him profusely before rushing out.

An hour later, you were stripping your gown and gloves. You scrubbed and changed before leaving the hospital. The paperwork could wait. You wanted to call Cale before his game to wish him good luck. You truly felt horrible.

Instead, you found a text from Cale.

From: Cale like the vegetable but with a C

Hey, could I have your address? I don’t know how long surgery takes, but it’s probably tiring, and I don’t want you to forget to eat. Dinner’s on me, just need the address for UberEats.

The shock on your face was probably laughable.

From: Y/N Y/L/N

How about I make you dinner? You can come over after your game and I can make up for running out on you? I promise I’m not tired.

From: Cale like the vegetable but with a C

Absolutely! What did you have in mind?

From: Y/N Y/L/N

Pancakes? Feeling some breakfast for dinner.

From: Cale like the vegetable but with a C

Perfect. I’ll see you around 10 :)

You texted him your address and you wished him good luck in his game. Then, you panic cleaned your apartment. It wasn’t extremely messy, but you were a little sloppy this morning when you were getting ready.

At 10:15, you buzzed Cale in. The two of you shared blueberry pancakes and finished your date.

“I’m sorry, again, for running out on our date. Totally bad first date.”

He smiled and grabbed your hand. “Hey, I’m not mad. I swear. I think your job is so cool, and pregnant people going into labor is like the most unpredictable thing I can think of. Besides, I don’t think this date turned out so bad.” His stomach did a cartwheel when you squeezed his hand back.

You smiled back, loving the way he was rubbing your palm. It gave you butterflies.

“Hey, can I ask you something? I was going to ask you at Starbucks, but I think now is better.” Cale asked. You nodded. “Will you be my girlfriend?”

Cale was the most incredible guy on Earth. You had been dating for one year and a month when he finally asked if you would consider moving in with him. His cheeks turned red when he asked you. He said, “I know you love your job, and I would never ask you to quit it. More like a transfer?” about 5 times. He even told you he asked Nate’s girlfriend, Alyssa, about openings at the hospital. For you, the choice was obvious. You had been thinking about making the transfer when you hit your first anniversary. But watching him sweat because he didn’t want you to feel that he thought you should give up your amazing career was probably one of the sweetest things you had ever witnessed him do.

Your transition from Seattle to Denver was smooth as silk. Maybe because Cale organized the whole thing. He was there to help you pack, and he was there to greet the moving trucks when they arrived in Denver. Slowly but surely, your belongings began to infiltrate his house. The spare bedroom became your storage until the two of you sat down to figure out all the things you could give away. Your seasonal throw pillows decorated his couch, and the smell of your perfume lingered on Cale’s bedsheets.

Cale played the best he ever had the day you finally came to see a home game in person. And it didn’t go unnoticed. The girls you sat with giggled all 4 times Cale assisted a goal and skated over to your section with a toothy grin and a point into the crowd. You assumed the boys were chirping him, too. And when he was named “first star,” he could hear your cheers from the other side of the arena.

One night, you found yourself at a Denver Nuggets game with Cale. He invited you after JT bailed on him. At first, you were hesitant because he told you he got good seats. The word “good” seats usually imply expensive seats, and you weren’t used to people spending that type of money on you. You offered to pay him back for your ticket, which he refused. See, Cale was raised right. His mom taught him that he should always pay for his date, no matter how big or small that date should be.

Cale did invite JT first, but he was relieved when JT said no. He had been feeling like this for a while but wasn’t sure if the time was right. Cale was ready to tell you he was in love with you. He knew how big the words were. And yes, maybe it was a little soon, but they say when you know, you know.

You started walking towards the “General Admissions” entrance, when Cale grabbed your arm and pulled you towards the “LEXUS CLUB” entrance. The two of you walked down one of the many staircases of Ball Arena, Cale making small talk. Then, you noticed just how many stairs down you were walking. When you finally got to the bottom of the stairs and through the door, you realized just how good the good tickets were. They were courtside seats.

“Relax, Y/N.” Cale grabbed your waist, leading you to your seats. They were in the middle of Ball Arena. You stared at Cale in amazement. How could someone so be so amazing?

The game was exciting. You and Cale each got food and some beer. Despite not knowing much about basketball or its players, you were having a good time, until the free throw competition. During a commercial break, people were coming down the stands for the free throw competition. The people were doing pretty good, until a basketball bounced off the rim. You saw the basketball coming towards you at a very fast speed. You completely acknowledged that. Did you move out of the way? Did you use your hand to block your face? Absolutely not.

The ball hit you square on the head. In an instant, Cale was on the floor with you. When did you get on the floor? He was saying your name, but it sounded muted almost. The jumbotron camera man was on your right, pointing his camera at you and Cale. Your vision was a little blurry, but you focused hard enough to see yourself on the jumbotron. It was a sight to see.

Cale was tugging on your arm to help you up. Your balance was definitely off. You must have said that out loud, because Cale said, “Alright. Let’s get you to the hospital. I think you might have a concussion. It’ll be okay, baby. I’m right here.”

You didn’t know it, but Cale was a little disappointed that the night hadn’t gone how he’d planned. He wanted you to enjoy the game, and then he wanted to tell you he loved you. This was not in the plans.

He turned down the lights so you wouldn’t get a headache. You wanted nothing more to sleep on the way to the emergency room, but Cale wouldn’t let you. What if the ball had hit something that made your brain bleed? No, Cale couldn’t take the risk. He turned on soft music in the car to keep you awake and kept talking about anything he could think of to keep you awake.

He pulled up to the valet, despite your insistence that you could be alone for a few minutes while he found a parking spot, but he was stubborn. “I am not leaving you, Y/N. I don’t want you to fall over or something.” If you weren’t so dizzy, you would have found it sweet.

As embarrassing as it was, having your accident go viral on Twitter helped you in the emergency room.

“Hey! It’s Y/N from OB! She just got hit in the head! Let’s get her in!” you heard an intern shout.

You were seen fairly quickly and diagnosed with a mild concussion. No work for a week, stay off screens as much as possible, and definitely no more courtside Nuggets games.

Cale stayed by your side the whole time. He was dozing off holding your hand waiting for the discharge papers. He was doing that thing where he rubs the palm of your hand with his thumb that gave you butterflies. You leaned down to kiss his forehead to thank him for staying with you.

“Love you, babe,” he whispered. You did a double-take. His adorable cheeks flared red. “I- uh- well. Yeah, I love you, Y/N. I was meaning to tell you after the game. I wanted it to be special. I’m sorry it wasn’t more romantic. I wanted there to be roses and champagne.”

“Cale. I love you, too. This is perfect. I’m sorry for ruining your plans.” You giggled. “We can have a re-do sometime. Just not courtside.” You kissed his forehead and then his lips. You really loved this boy.

Generally, you would consider yourself pretty fearless. You worked in surgery with screaming parents for God’s sake. You loved going on adventures, especially hiking through Colorado. But, this test on the counter was scaring the shit out of you.

You didn’t tell Cale. You didn’t want to freak him out in case you were overreacting. You and Cale were certainly not trying, but you had to admit, you would be a little sad if the test came out negative. Already spiraling before you knew the results, you began to think about Cale as the father to your child. You thought he would make the most amazing girl dad. But on the other hand, Cale teaching his little baby boy how to hold a hockey stick would be so sweet.

The timer on your phone went off. This was the moment of truth.

It’s positive. Now would probably be the time to tell Cale. With shaking hands, you texted Cale, asking when he’d be home from practice.

From: Cale <3

Actually, you got me at the perfect time. Practice just ended and no film. Great day! How do you feel about Indian food?

The thought of Indian food made your stomach grumble. In your haste to take the pregnancy test, you forgot to eat lunch. You requested butter chicken and garlic naan.

Cale came back to your shared home with your order and an extra mango lassi. He didn’t even know you were pregnant yet, but he was already doing the most.

“Cale, I wanted to ask you something.” You were so nervous.

“What’s up?”

“I’ve just been thinking about it recently. How do you… how do you feel about kids?” You weren’t ready to ask him about the kid growing in your uterus. You decided to start off your questions in general statements.

“Oh, I love kids. Why do you ask?”

“Well, Cale, I mean, like, your own kids. How do you feel about having your own kids?”

“Kids someday would be nice.” He smiled. He began thinking about his own little boy. Your stomach dropped. He said “someday.” And no, he didn’t know that his kid was sitting in your uterus. How could he have? But his reaction just made you nervous. “Why do you ask, Y/N?”

“Just thinking about it. I work with babies all day, you know?” You felt a bit bad about lying to him, but it wasn’t really a lie, right? You were thinking about it recently, and you did work with babies all day.

Cale knew after that response that something was wrong, but he didn’t know what. He thought he did well with the Indian food, but he knew you well enough that you would have told him upfront if you didn’t want the Indian food. The problem was something deeper than Indian food.

You helped him clean up the food and told him you were going to take a nap and asked if he wanted to come with. Cale happily accepted. You climbed on top of the bed instead of snuggling under your mountain of blankets, and he knew something was really wrong. You loved your blankets. Even in the summer, you turned the AC down so you could still use your mountain of blankets.

“Y/N, please. What’s wrong? You’re making me worried.” He climbed on the bed with you, and tucked you in a blanket, hoping it would give you the comfort he couldn’t.

“I don’t know how to say it, Cale. I don’t want you to be upset.” He was holding both your hands, fighting a few tears. He thought this was the “breakup talk.” He didn’t want to cry, but he could hardly imagine himself not being with you. He wanted to fight for you with everything he had.

“Cale, honey, why are you crying? I haven’t even told you yet.” He looked at you in shock. This wasn’t the breakup talk? What else could it be? “Cale. I’m pregnant. I took a test. It’s in the bathroom. I didn’t know how you would react. I’m so sorry.” All the words fell out of your mouth before you could stop yourself.

Cale felt his entire world freeze. Almost instantly, he pictured the little boy from earlier in the afternoon. He pictured teaching him hockey and how to be a gentleman. Dressing him up with little bowties. Giving him a mohawk when his hair is wet. And above all else, he pictured doing all those things with you.

“Oh, Y/N! This is fantastic news! What do you mean you didn’t know how I would react. Oh God, I am … I don’t even know the words. But, no, I would never be mad. Oh!” He bent down so his face was in front of your stomach. He put his hand on your stomach, and he swore he fell more in love than he even knew was possible.

“Do you know the gender?” His eyes were so hopeful. He wanted a boy so badly.

“No, I just found out. We’ll know around the fourth month.”

He paused for a moment. “Can I tell the boys?”

“Yes.” You rolled your eyes, playfully. He eagerly whipped out his phone, typing fast. You knew the boys wouldn’t be able to hide it from their girlfriends/wives, so you grabbed your phone waiting for the avalanche of texts you would receive.

The first trimester went well, considering the way the first trimester went for other women. You went through bouts of morning sickness and moodiness, but Cale took it in stride. Each time you were bent over the toilet, he was there holding your hair back. When you told the nurses on your floor, they were all so excited for you. They threw you a small party in the break room. They decorated onesies with glitter glue and markers. They told every single patient of yours, too. Every room you entered, you were greeted with “congratulations” from patients about ten minutes from having their own babies. Their excitement made you even more excited for your little bundle of joy. You were barely showing, but you wore slightly tighter clothing just to highlight your stomach.

The second trimester was about to begin, and you and Cale were sitting together in your office, waiting for your appointment. Today was the day you were going to get an envelope so you could find out the gender. You knew Cale would be happy if it was a girl, but you also knew he deeply wanted a boy. He talked constantly about a little baby boy. He even bought little baby hockey gear and skates.

Amanda, your doctor and colleague, came into the room. She explained everything she was going to do, then laughed because she realized you knew it already. Then, the dreaded question. “Would you like to know the gender?”

“Actually, could you just put the results in an envelope? We’re going to give it to a friend. We’re doing one of those gender reveal parties.”

“Oh! That’s so exciting! Will do. But for now, I see ten fingers, ten toes, and a healthy heartbeat. Do you want to hear the heartbeat?” You and Cale both nodded, and you teared up a little bit when you heard the heartbeat. Sometimes, you forgot that you were growing a literal, living tiny human. It was difficult to conceptualize.

At the end of the appointment, Amanda gave you a sealed envelope, and you rushed over to Alyssa Mackinnon’s house to give her the gender of baby Makar. When you told her a few weeks ago that you wanted to have a gender reveal party, she squealed and asked if she could plan it. You agreed, and then fawned over party themes and ideas for the actual reveal.

The party day came. You wore a pink dress. Cale wore a blue polo and khakis. When you got to Alyssa and Nate’s house, the whole team, your friends from work, Cale’s parents and brother, your parents, and your brother and his family were there. All the people that were important in your life were here to see whether baby Makar was a girl or boy.

Alyssa had a few small party games going on along with a blackboard for people to tally their guesses on your baby’s gender. The men took turns racing to put diapers on footballs, while the women wrapped around your stomach with ribbons to measure how round your belly was. Then, Alyssa announced to the guests that it was time to step outside. When you stepped outside, you saw a goal post with a white balloon hanging from the top post. And you got so excited.

You knew what was about to happen. Cale was going to shoot a puck at the balloon, and you were going to know the gender. Cale grabbed the stick from Alyssa and took aim.

DING. Hit the post. POP. The balloon bled pink confetti. A GIRL! You squealed with joy, running over to Cale, giving him just enough time to drop the hockey stick and catch you in his arms. You started to cry tears of joy. Cale was crying, too. But soon, your overactive overthinking kicked in. How did Cale really feel? You were forced to push down the anxiety as your families and friends swarmed you and Cale with congratulations.

The guests slowly made their way back inside Alyssa and Nate’s house to head out. You wanted to stay until the end to help her clean up and to thank her for all the hard work she put in for your gender reveal. You were packing paper plates into a garbage bag when you heard a loud gasp behind you.

“Y/N! Give me that! You are pregnant! Sit down! Kick your feet up! Don’t you dare touch another paper plate!” Alyssa cried. She pointed at your stomach and then to the couch. You handed her the bag and sat down on her couch. She gave you the “I’m watching you” stare before resuming what you had started. A minute later, Cale appeared. He sat down next to you, and you knew this was your chance to talk to him.

“Cale, how are you feeling? I know you wanted a-”

“Y/N. I’m happy. We both knew I wanted a boy, but I’m not upset. I swear. I just wanted our baby to be healthy. Her happiness is my top priority, not her gender.” You could have sworn your heart grew three sizes. You may have ruined his plan to be a boy-dad, but you always had a feeling he was a girl-dad anyway.

The next four months passed without a hitch. The OBGYN floor had a field day with your baby shower. Mel Landeskog planned a separate shower, and with permission from the hospital, she brought the party to your break room. You thought you received a lot of gifts at the gender reveal, but now that everyone knew it was a girl, You and Cale swore you had enough baby clothing that you thought you never would need to do laundry because of how much they got for her. You had enough diaper boxes that they stacked from floor to ceiling in the nursery you and Cale had set up.

At this point, you due date was 15 days away. Your belly was swollen to triple the size it used to be. Your feet hurt if you stood for longer than 20 minutes. You told Cale you just wanted the baby out. He would laugh at you and then take your feet and give them a massage. You really had the best boyfriend in the world.

Truth be told, Cale was more prepared for a baby than you were. He had two go-bags packed – one for you two and one for the baby. You were extremely calm for that aspect of the actual birthing process. You also knew Cale wasn’t happy about you working, but you insisted on working until the minute your water broke. Your rationale was that you would already be at the hospital, and then as a bonus for your patients, you would be able to give them the care they needed. You just knew that the floor would take care of you. You knew each of the charge nurses. You knew how well they took care of their patients. They already told you that you would be their VIP patient.

Today was relatively slow for you. You had no scheduled C-sections, you were only on-call for obstetric exams and emergencies that entered the ER. All of a sudden, you got a frantic call from Steph, the charge nurse in the ER. She was freaking out, as the entire ER staff did when a pregnant lady came in.

You went down and examined the woman and asked the nurses to admit her into the birthing wing when suddenly, you heard screaming. You rushed back over. She needed a C-section. You knew you weren’t supposed to, but you took an oath, and you had to save this woman and her baby’s life. You yelled at any nurse nearby to clear an ER for you and rushed up to scrub.

You were gowned and gloved, finally. Mid-way through the C-section, you felt a pinching in your own stomach. You figured your baby decided to kick. It was only when nurse Kimmy gasped, “Y/N! I think your water broke!”

You barely registered the shout, but then you felt a tightening in your own stomach. A contraction. The nurses were already calling Cale without you even needing to ask them. They knew you were determined to finish the surgery. You pushed through and helped your patient deliver her baby. You took off your surgical gown and the nurses immediately put you in a wheelchair.

“Marci! I can walk myself to the OB wing!” you protested. She just shook his head and kept pushing you. You met Cale in the waiting room. The nurses had prepped a birthing suite for you the minute they found out your water broke. Cale brought both your go-bags into the room and helped you into the bag.

“You really had to be in surgery when your water broke?” he joked. He kissed your forehead, and together you waited and waited for your baby girl to make her grand entrance.

Marci came in periodically to check on you. The whole floor came in to say congratulations and dropped off some food. Maybe it was the hormones, but their love surrounded you, and it made you feel really good about having a baby.

Finally, six hours later, baby girl Makar made an appearance. You and Cale never picked out a name. You could never decide. He thought of a name that you liked, but then you thought of another name. You would try to convince him of the new name, but then he would think of another one. The two of you were stuck. And now she was here!

But as soon as you looked at her face, you knew the name. You looked at Cale, and both said at the same time, “Lilly Grace Makar!”

+1.

Your daughter, Lilly, was three, now. You and Cale were holding off on this for a long time, but you decided that the summertime would be the perfect time to go to Disney World in Florida. She loved watching Mickey Mouse in the mornings before daycare. Even though you both knew she wouldn’t remember the trip, you just wanted to take her for your own personal fun.

At least, that’s what you told Cale. Secretly, though, you had other motives. Cale and you still weren’t married. Not even engaged. Obviously, the two of you were bound to each other forever. Cale was yours and you were Cale’s. But you just wanted the title of wife. It had been over six years since you went on that first date. You thought that was a reasonable amount of time to get engaged and married. And for goodness sake, you had a kid together and you hinted about wanting more for the past few months.

So, that was where you hatched your plan. On a day off from work, you took Lilly to the mall. You told Cale she needed some new summer outfits because she grew out of the clothes she had in the spring. But you also made a quick pitstop at the jewelry store. You stole Cale’s Stanley Cup ring, too, so that you could get an accurate measurement. At the jewelry store, you picked out a solid silver band. Nothing extravagant, but enough for the occasion. At the end of the day, it was about your love for one another, not the extravagance of the ring. You were going to ask Cale to marry you at Disney World.

That same week, Cale entered the guest locker room in New Jersey, and pulled Gabe and Nate aside. He had a very important question.

“Hey. So, how did you guys ask Mel and Alyssa to marry you? I think Y/N’s been dropping a lot of hints lately. I mean I know it’s just a title, because we’re both there, but I’m pretty sure it’s something she wants. I think I’m overthinking it.”

The two men laughed, remembering the times when they felt the same way. They each launched into their stories of asking their girlfriends to marry them. Gabe’s was intimate in Sweden. Nate’s was slightly public, in front of their families on the beach in Cole Harbour.

They gave Cale a lot of ideas. He already knew the ring he was going to get you. He even knew he wanted to include Lilly in the proposal. He just didn’t know how public you wanted it to be. He thought about proposing in secret, like in the hotel room, but that didn’t feel romantic enough. He thought about proposing during the fireworks at Magic Kingdom, but that felt too public.

You, on the other hand, had an exact plan. You wanted to propose in front of the Magic Kingdom castle. You figured that a proposal to hockey’s best defenseman would garner media attention regardless of how private you tried to make it. You might as well get some good photos out of it.

You secured the ring you got for Cale in your carry-on. You had to hide it strategically, knowing Cale probably forgot something and would need to borrow it from your stash. Cale secured the ring he got for you in his suitcase between his underwear. There was no way you’d go through his underwear.

The flight was smooth, Lilly was content to watch Mickey Mouse on the plane’s television screen. Cale insisted on first class, knowing this was Lilly’s first big vacation. She didn’t seem to notice, falling asleep about two hours into the flight.

Arriving at your hotel, you unpacked and got onto the monorail to take you to Animal Kingdom. Lilly loved everything about it. The next day at Epcot was so much fun. She wouldn’t remember it, but you and Cale took enough combined pictures that you would never forget. Hollywood Studios was your favorite.

The fated day finally came for you. Magic Kingdom. You secured the ring in your baby-backpack. You boarded the monorail with Cale and Lilly, as if everything was normal. Every bone in your body was on fire. You were nervous, but you wanted to be married to Cale. It was the only thing in the world that made sense. He was your rock. He gave the best advice. He was an incredible father. And you just knew in your gut he would be the best husband (not that he already wasn’t performing husband duties).

As excited as you were about proposing to Cale, you also wanted to do it early in the day so that you could enjoy the day with your daughter and hopefully-fiancé.

“What do you wanna do first babygirl?” you asked Lilly as you and Cale grabbed her hands.

“Umm… I wanna see the princesses!” she shouted. Perfect. This would be the most perfect opportunity to walk towards the Magic Castle.

Upon arrival, you stopped and pulled Lilly over to the side. Swinging your backpack down, you grabbed your phone and the ring box.

“Lilly! Cale! Smile!” She posed with Cale in front of the castle. Cale put her down while you put your phone back in your bag and turned around with the ring box open.

“Cale?”

His face was in shock, but all of a sudden, he started laughing and reached into his own bag. Suddenly, Cale was down on one knee with a ring box while you stood in front of him with a ring box.

Your face was flushed. People was stopping to look at you. But all you could see was Cale. Your perfect, sweet, caring, thoughtful fiancé.

You screamed yes before he could even get the question out. He laughed as he put the ring on your finger.

“Cale, you didn’t answer my question.”

“You didn’t ask one, love.”

“Will you marry me, Cale Douglas Makar?”

“It would make me the happiest man in the world.” He kissed you sweetly, and you slipped the ring on your finger. The small crowd of people around you cheered for you. Cale picked Lilly up and you handed your phone to a nice-looking couple and asked them to take a picture. And it now served as your wallpaper.

A/N: Yes. This entire fic was based off of this tweet. No, I will not be taking questions. LMAO

https://twitter.com/virgoprincxss/status/1031921634951684097?s=20&t=t5DZrxlxwSquOAQ5pZi32Q

I hope y’all enjoyed!!

#emma writes #nhl fic #hockey fic #cale makar fic #colorado avs fic

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