#home painting in Toronto

[michaelconway]

Home Painting in Toronto – Professional Services | The Home Improvement Group

Transform your home with expert painting services from The Home Improvement Group in Toronto. Our skilled painters offer high-quality interior and exterior painting solutions, ensuring a flawless finish that enhances the beauty of your space. Whether you're refreshing a single room or repainting your entire home, we provide personalized service and use top-grade materials for lasting results. Trust The Home Improvement Group for reliable, professional home painting in Toronto. Contact us today for a free estimate!

[elysianstudio]

Here are the coasters I made, as a follow up from my last post. These super unique designs are all one of a kind. I’d love to hear any feedback or colour suggestions. 😊

[dearslugboy]

Exit with Lake Superior

Peter D. Harris

2023

[gtahomeservice]

Transform your home with exterior painting services Toronto

GTA Home Service is an expert in the field of exterior painting, and they can give your home a complete facelift by working on it. With their exterior painting services Toronto, you get high quality paint job using developed methods that will guarantee perfect finishing that enhances the look of your property and provides protection against weathering elements. For more click: https://pasteboard.co/8JIOgXWdCXNZ.jpg

[torontohomerepairs]

Expert Handyman Services for Your Home Repair Needs

Are you a Toronto homeowner who needs to have some home repairs done? Look no further then Toronto Home Repairs. Whether it's a worn-out fence in Toronto, a damaged deck in Scarborough, or a broken fence in North York, it's critical to take care of these repairs quickly to preserve the aesthetic appeal and practicality of your house.

Let's begin with Deck Repair in Scarborough. Living in this lovely neighborhood, you understand how important it is to have a deck that is kept up to date so you can take in the breathtaking views of Lake Ontario. However, decks can become hazardous and destroyed as a result of frequent exposure to severe weather. This is where Scarborough's expert deck repair services come in. These professionals are equipped with the know-how to fix any type of deck damage, including loose boards, damaged railings, and structural problems. They make sure that your deck is secure and still appears brand new by using premium materials and methods.

Moving on to North York, a lot of homeowners find it difficult to fix minor home maintenance issues like a loose doorknob or a leaking faucet. Even while these might seem like little problems, if they are not addressed right away, they could easily grow into more significant ones. Here's where having a trustworthy North York Handyman comes in useful. These experts are qualified to perform a variety of home repairs, including carpentry, painting, plumbing, and electrical work. In addition to saving you time and effort, hiring a handyman guarantees that the repairs are completed effectively and accurately.

Let's finally discuss Toronto Deck And Fence Restoration. Don't panic if your deck or fence has seen better days; there is a fix available. Your deck and fence can regain its original beauty and functionality with the help of professional restoration services in Toronto. They remove any filth, stains, or damage using methods like pressure washing, sanding, and staining to give your deck and fence a brand-new appearance. This not only makes your house look better, but it also contributes to these buildings lasting longer.

House repairs are a necessary part of being a homeowner, and it's critical to take care of them as soon as possible to prevent more serious issues later on. Our experts at Toronto Home Repairsavailable to assist with any type of task, whether it's deck repair in Scarborough, minor home repairs in North York, or deck and fence restoration in Toronto. Thus, don't be afraid to ask for assistance and show your house the love and care it needs. To learn more give us a call at 416-465-1689 or visit:- www.torontohomerepairs.com!

[better-choice-painters]

Peeling away layers of old paint, our exterior painters in Toronto encounter a peculiar scenario a few times each year. Soft, spongy wood persists even after weeks without rain, or deck boards unexpectedly yield under pressure during dry weather.

[a2zpainting]

A 2 Z Painting | Painter | Home Cleaning Service in Toronto ON

A 2 Z Painting is renowned as the most skilled Painter in Toronto ON. We pride ourselves on using premium materials, ensuring durability and a flawless finish that reflects our dedication to excellence. Whether it’s a fresh coat to revitalize a living room or a comprehensive colour overhaul for an office, we ensure high-quality results that breathe new life into your space. In addition to painting, A 2 Z Painting provides a top-notch Home Cleaning Service in Toronto ON. Understanding the importance of a clean and well-maintained environment, we use the latest techniques and eco-friendly products. For all your painting and cleaning needs, contact us today.

[glassdiy]

Explore the magic of custom glass interiors in our latest blog. Learn the benefits of clear glass, back-painted glass, and laminated glass for a personalized touch. Learn how to amplify natural light and elevate your space with glass & mirror elements. Dive into a world where each pane tells a story, guiding you through safety, privacy, and maintenance considerations. Visit: https://taghardware.ca/custom-glass-mirror/

[misshoneyimhome]

Since the pregnancy scare one shot was so good! Can we get a Willy Nylander x inexperienced reader one shot where she finds out she’s actually pregnant? Maybe they also go to the first appointment together? Thanks!

Oh love, of course we can ❤️🌺 Hopefully, this will be just as enjoyable 🙏🏼 I'm in such a soft dad!Willy mood 🥰

Just a quick note, I’ve set this one a little in the future 😉

Warnings: 18+ smut - oral sex (f receiving), unprotected sex (p in v), cum inside

Word count: 3.3K

➼｡ﾟ

It wasn’t exactly planned or expected—though not entirely unexpected either.

You knew it was possible and something you’d both considered for the future, but it happened a little sooner than you’d anticipated.

_

You and William Nylander had been together for two years, and although the idea of parenthood had come up in conversation, it wasn’t something you were planning on just yet. Sure, you’d recently had your IUD removed as it had expired, but that only led to you both considering new options for contraception.

Life was going so well.

William was thriving in Toronto, with his contract ensuring his stay for another six or seven years, and your own career was flourishing, with new responsibilities and a better salary—not that it really mattered, given William’s income. After spending your first season together and moving in with him, you’d started talking about finding a new place to build a home together, somewhere that didn’t remind William of his bachelor days. So, you relocated just a few streets away, but several floors up, into a new apartment that felt fresh and full of promise.

But the universe had other plans. It was the night marking your two-year anniversary when fate decided to intervene.

William only had training that day, so it was a perfect opportunity for the two of you to celebrate. You’d gone all out—cooking your favourite meals, setting the table with candles, and savouring a romantic evening in. The atmosphere was perfect, filled with warmth and laughter as you reminisced about your journey together. And as the night wore on, the connection between you quickly deepened, and you could see that familiar, mischievous spark light up in William’s eyes as he leaned in and suggested moving to the bedroom.

“Willy,” you chuckled, trying to sound serious as you reached the bed. “You need a condom. I had my IUD removed, remember?”

He simply waved off your concern with a confident smile. “Babe, it doesn’t work that quickly. Trust me. I want to feel you… all of you.”

Although you were sceptical, your desire to be with him overcame your hesitation. So, you went along with it, trusting in his confidence and his pull-out game.

As always, the night was filled with passion and intimacy, a perfect celebration of your relationship.

William began by lavishing you with attention, his skilled mouth moving between your thighs, as he adored the taste of you and could spend hours painting your body with his tongue.

Yet he also wanted to feel himself inside you. So, after bringing you to climax with his mouth and fingers, he eased himself into you, your moans echoing through the room.

As always, your bodies melted together, as if they were sculptured to, beads of sweat forming as he moved rhythmically in and out of you, stimulating your walls and causing your eyes to roll back in pleasure.

William’s length always felt perfectly aligned inside you, and the rush of pleasure soon overwhelmed any lingering concerns about protection.

Then, amidst euphoria and sounds of sex, he effortlessly flipped you around, and you rode him with practised ease. Endorphins surged as you moved your hips, losing yourself in the sensation and preparing for another climax.

“Oh Willy, I’m gonna come,” you moaned, closing your eyes and quickening the pace.

“Mmmm, fuck yes, baby,” William breathed out heavily, feeling his own climax building. 

Your walls were gripping him tightly, and he could barely hold back. His fingers dug into your hips as you intensified your motions, and William could no longer control himself. Though a small voice in his head reminded him of his promise to pull out, it seemed increasingly difficult with you on top. So, the voice quickly faded as you moaned his name, clenched around him, and reached your climax, causing him to release inside you.

There was a brief silence as you both untangled and realised the situation. Yet, after a quick clean-up, you agreed not to let it worry you. You both simply laughed and reassured yourselves that the removal of the IUD wouldn’t have an immediate effect.

And as you fell asleep in his arms, the connection between you felt stronger than ever, and you couldn’t help but feel a deep sense of contentment.

But little did you know, that night would mark the beginning of a new chapter in your lives.

_

Weeks passed, and a sense of unease began to creep in. It wasn’t just that your period was late—again—but everything just felt off. 

You found yourself snapping at the smallest things, your mood swings more intense than ever before. Simple tasks that you used to breeze through now felt exhausting, leaving you drained by midday. Even getting out of bed in the mornings had become a struggle, the kind of bone-deep fatigue that you couldn’t shake, no matter how much sleep you got.

At first, you tried to brush it off. Maybe it was just stress, you reasoned, or perhaps your body was still adjusting after having the IUD removed. But as the days went on and the symptoms didn’t ease, your anxiety grew. The nagging feeling that something wasn’t right became impossible to ignore, so you decided to make an appointment with your gynaecologist, just to be sure.

-

On the day of your appointment, you sat in the waiting room, your nerves making it hard to sit still. The minutes ticked by slowly, each one heightening your anxiety. And when the nurse finally called your name, you followed her into the examination room, your heart pounding louder with each step.

The examination felt like it took forever. You could hear the steady tick of the clock on the wall as the gynaecologist performed the ultrasound, her face carefully neutral. You searched her expression for any clues, your heart racing with anticipation. And when she finally looked up from the monitor, her voice was calm but carried the weight of what she was about to say.

“Well, it seems like you’re pregnant,” she said gently, her eyes meeting yours. “You’re about nine weeks along.”

The words echoed in your mind, feeling both surreal and impossible. “Pregnant?” you repeated, your voice barely more than a whisper. “But how? We were using contraception… or… I mean, used to.”

The doctor nodded sympathetically, her tone understanding. “No contraceptive method is foolproof. It’s possible the IUD didn’t fully prevent pregnancy, or there could have been other factors at play.”

Overwhelmed, you left the clinic in a daze, the reality of the situation weighing heavily on your mind. And naturally, your first instinct was to call William, to share the news with him, but you knew he was at practice. Still, you needed to tell him as soon as possible.

“Hey, Willy,” you said when he answered the phone a couple of hours later in between sessions, your voice trembling despite your efforts to stay calm. “Do you think you can come home early? I need to talk to you about something important.”

His concern was immediate, his tone serious. “Of course. What’s wrong?”

“I’ll explain when you get here,” you replied, trying to keep your voice steady. “Just please come home.”

That evening, William walked through the door, his face a mixture of worry and confusion. You could see the tension in his posture, the way he scanned your face for clues as to what was going on. You led him to the sofa, your hands shaking slightly as you prepared to tell him.

“I went to the gynaecologist today,” you began, your voice unsteady as you forced the words out. “And she told me I’m pregnant.”

William’s reaction was immediate—his face went pale, his eyes widening in shock. For a moment, he seemed completely frozen, as if his brain was struggling to process what you’d just said. The silence stretched between you, heavy with uncertainty, and you couldn’t help but feel a pang of fear at his lack of response.

“Pregnant?” he finally managed to say, his voice barely above a whisper. “Are you sure?”

You nodded, tears welling up in your eyes as you met his gaze. “Yes, the doctor confirmed it. I’m about nine weeks along.”

For a long moment, William sat in silence, his expression unreadable as he appeared lost in thought. You knew how much he had always wanted to be a father, but the weight of the reality seemed to be hitting him like a tidal wave. And the longer the silence dragged on, the more anxious you became, unsure of what he was thinking or how he was feeling.

Even as you went to bed together, he remained silent, not uttering a single word.

-

The next day, you woke up a couple of hours before William. You lay there for a while, simply watching him sleep. His face, usually so full of energy, was peaceful and relaxed, and you couldn’t help but smile at how different he looked in these quiet moments. There was a tenderness in his expression, even as he slept, that made your heart swell with love.

Eventually, you slipped out of bed, careful not to wake him, and quietly made your way to the kitchen. You wanted to start the day slowly, giving yourself time to process everything that had happened the day before. The familiar smell of freshly brewed coffee filled the room as you prepared a pot, but what had once been a comforting aroma now made your stomach churn. Ever since you found out you were pregnant, coffee had become something of a trigger for your morning sickness, so you opted for a cup of tea instead.

As the tea brewed, you allowed yourself to savour the moment of silence. The kitchen was bathed in soft morning light, the only sounds being the gentle clink of the teapot and the rhythmic ticking of the clock on the wall. It was a peaceful start to the day.

But the quiet was soon broken by the soft pitter-patter of paws as Pablo and Banksy wandered across the floor to greet you. The dogs had sensed the changes in you long before you had even realised. Over the past few weeks, they had been unusually attentive, sticking close to your side as if they were aware of the new life growing inside you. You reached down to give them a gentle scratch behind the ears, smiling as they nuzzled against your legs.

After finishing your tea, you decided to take the dogs out for a quick morning walk. You dressed in your most comfortable clothes—soft leggings and an oversized jumper—enjoying how they hugged your body as you slowly walked through the quiet streets. The air was crisp and fresh, the early morning stillness soothing your mind. The streets were almost empty, save for the occasional jogger or dog walker, and you found comfort in the solitude, using the time to gather your thoughts.

When you returned home, you brewed another cup of tea, feeling more settled now. Your stomach was beginning to calm down as well, so you decided to make breakfast. Pancakes seemed like the perfect choice—Swedish pancakes, to be precise, as they had become a favourite of yours ever since you started dating William.

As you whisked the batter, the kitchen began to fill with the mouth-watering aroma of cooking pancakes. And the smell was enough to rouse William from his sleep. 

Gently, he appeared in the doorway to the open-plan kitchen, his hair tousled from sleep and a sleepy smile on his face, dressed in nothing but boxers and an open robe. He leaned against the doorframe for a moment, just watching you as you moved about the kitchen. You looked beautiful, radiant even, with the soft morning light highlighting your features.

In his mind, William reminded himself how much he loved you. How incredibly lucky he was to have you in his life. You were his everything—his rock, his confidant, his partner in every sense of the word. You’d been by his side through all the ups and downs over the past two years, and now, the thought of starting a family with you filled him with a mixture of awe and trepidation. He couldn’t believe how fortunate he was to share this journey with you.

“Morning, sleeping beauty,” you said softly, breaking him out of his thoughts.

“Good morning, älskling,” William replied, a light smirk playing on his lips as he stepped closer to you. He wrapped his hands around your hips, pulling you close as he leaned down to kiss you. The kiss was gentle, tender, with the lingering taste of mint on your lips. He held you there for a moment, just savouring the warmth of your body against his.

“Did you sleep well?” you asked, your voice soft and gentle as your arms draped around his neck.

“Mmm,” he nodded, though there was a hint of hesitation in his response. “Just… had a lot on my mind.”

You could sense the unease in his voice, the way his brow furrowed slightly as he spoke. “Willy…” you whispered, concern evident in your tone, but he shook his head, as if trying to dismiss his thoughts.

“I’m sorry,” he said suddenly, his voice firm, but laced with a vulnerability that caught you off guard.

“Sorry? For what?” you asked, tilting your head slightly as you searched his eyes.

“For freezing up last night…” he confessed, his gaze dropping to the floor. “I just… I got scared.”

“Willy, you don’t need to apologise,” you reassured him, offering a soft smile as you reached up to cup his cheek. “I know this is huge, for both of us. It’s a lot to take in.”

“Exactly. Last night, all I could think about was myself—how scared I was at the thought of becoming a dad,” he admitted, his voice tinged with regret. “I didn’t think about how you must be feeling, or how much I want this, too.”

You took a deep breath, feeling a rush of love for the man standing in front of you. “What are you talking about? Willy, you’re going to be an amazing dad.”

“I hope so,” he said, looking back up at you, his blue eyes filled with a mixture of hope and uncertainty. “It’s just… I want to do this right. I don’t want to let you down.”

“Willy, you’ll never let me down,” you replied, your voice firm but gentle. You reached up to run your fingers through his hair, a soothing gesture you knew he loved.

“I’ll do my best,” he said, his voice softening as he leaned into your touch. “I love you so much… I guess it just hit me last night. It all suddenly felt so real.”

“Well,” you said, moving away from him to pick up the ultrasound scan you’d left on the counter. “It is real. And I know we’re both a little scared, but I also think we’re ready.���

William took the photo from your hands, his expression softening as he looked at the tiny image. He studied it for a moment, a smile slowly spreading across his face. “This is him… or her?”

You nodded, a smile tugging at your lips as you watched him.

“Wow…” he breathed out, awe colouring his voice. He placed the photo back down on the counter before turning to you. Without a word, he wrapped his arms around you, lifting you off the ground as he pulled you into a deep, passionate kiss. “I love you so much. And now… I just can’t wait to be a dad.”

“Well, you’ll have to wait another seven months,” you chuckled lightly as he set you down, placing a soft kiss on your forehead.

“It’ll be worth the wait,” he said, his voice filled with certainty.

“Yeah,” you agreed, resting your head against his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart. “It’s going to be amazing.”

_

William had, of course, been incapable of keeping the news a secret from his family and closest friends. Pasta, in particular, was one of the first to know.

And as you approached the 12-week mark, the anticipation was almost palpable. On the morning of your first scan, William was more excited than you’d ever seen him. He couldn’t stop talking about how incredible it would be to finally see the little life growing inside you. And his excitement was infectious, even though you were a bundle of nerves, anxious to know that everything was progressing as it should.

The two of you arrived at the clinic, hand in hand, and checked in at reception. The waiting room felt like a sanctuary, as William squeezed your hand, offering a reassuring smile, though you could see the flicker of anxiety in his eyes. This was definitely a significant moment for both of you.

And when your name was called, you followed the nurse into the softly lit examination room. You lay down on the examination table, and William took his place beside you, his gaze never leaving your face.

Then as the technician applied the cool gel to your belly and began the ultrasound, you held your breath, waiting for the first glimpse of your baby. William’s hand was warm in yours, his grip firm and supportive as the technician moved the wand over your abdomen.

“There we go,” the technician said softly as the screen flickered to life. “Here it is.”

For a moment, it felt like the room had shrunk, and the only thing that mattered was that small, fluttering figure on the screen. William’s eyes were fixed on the monitor, his expression unreadable as he stared at the tiny being nestled inside you.

“Is that…?” William’s voice was barely more than a whisper, filled with awe.

“That’s your baby,” the technician confirmed, her tone warm and encouraging.

William’s eyes slowly filled with tears, and he didn’t even try to hide it. The sight of the little figure, with its tiny limbs and the rapid flicker of a heartbeat, overwhelmed him completely. He blinked rapidly, trying to keep his composure, but the emotion was too strong. This was real. This was his child.

“Oh my God,” he breathed, his voice thick with emotion. “That’s… that’s our baby.”

You turned to look at him, your own eyes misty as you saw the wonder and love on his face. The moment was indescribable, seeing him so moved, so utterly captivated by the sight of your baby. It was as if time had stopped, and in that instant, everything else faded away—there was just the three of you.

The technician continued with the scan, pointing out the tiny hands and feet, the curve of the baby’s spine, but William was barely listening. He was completely absorbed in the image on the screen, his thumb gently stroking the back of your hand as he tried to process the enormity of what he was seeing.

When the scan was over, and the technician had printed out a few pictures for you to keep, William remained quiet, lost in his thoughts as you both left the clinic. But his silence wasn’t from shock or fear, it was from a deep, profound sense of love and responsibility. The image of that tiny figure had changed something in him, solidifying the reality of the life you were creating together.

Later that evening, back at home, William was still clutching the ultrasound picture, his eyes lingering on the image as he sat beside you on the sofa. “I can’t believe that’s our baby,” he said softly, his voice full of wonder. “I never knew I could feel like this… It’s like everything’s changed.”

You rested your head on his shoulder, feeling the same deep connection. “It’s overwhelming, isn’t it?” you whispered, your heart full.

He nodded, finally looking up at you, his eyes shining with emotion. “Yeah… But it’s the best feeling in the world. I can’t wait to meet them.”

You smiled, placing a hand on your belly, feeling a deep sense of peace. “Neither can I.”

And as the two of you sat there, close together, the future felt more real than ever, filled with the promise of the new life you had seen for the first time that day.

[lovecla]

TAKE YOUR PAIN AWAY | quinn hughes.

00.1. the first time you saw quinn hughes.

➴ chapter warnings: mentions of shitty family.

➴ word count: 1.08k

💌 from me to you: this has been sitting on my drafts for days because i wasn’t brave enough to post it. but this story is very important to me and i promised myself i’d stop doubting what i write and just go for it. i hope with all my heart u guys like this ♡

౨ৎ

2013, SEPTEMBER.

THE first time you saw Quinn Hughes you were eleven years old.

Your family had just bought the house next to his, a beautiful four bedroom house with lots of space and a beautiful backyard— the perfect house for a family of four.

It was a week after you all settled in, your Dad as a Sports Medicine Physician working for a Hockey Canadian team, the Toronto Maple Leafs— the whole reason why you moved in the first place— your Mom as a Editor-in-Chief for the Fashion magazine, one of Canada's leading fashion publications, featuring content related to fashion, beauty, culture, and modeling and your brother, Peter, in High School as a freshman.

You were sitting on your porch, while you waited for Peter to be back so you could convince him to play football with you. He always said no, but you didn't give up. A few minutes later, Peter got out of your neighbor’s house, alongside another boy, who was slightly shorter than Peter.

You watched as they both walked towards your house, talking about something you couldn’t hear. You remember being so enamored with the sight of the boy that you couldn’t stop fidgeting your hands.

They stopped right in front of you, and while Peter was ready to ignore you and move on with his day— he’d been doing that more and more since he started High School— the other boy stopped and looked right at you.

���You didn’t tell me you have a sister.” The boy said, looking at your brother for a second before turning back at you.

“Oh, yeah,” Peter shrugged. “That’s Madison. She’s ten.”

“I’m eleven,” you corrected, voice soft and quiet.

“Whatever,” he scoffed, grabbing his keys so he could open the front door.

“Can you play with me now?” You asked, getting up from your seat, finally noticing how tall this other boy was. “I have the ball with me already.” You pointed at the ball that sat on the same couch you were also sitting not a minute ago.

“No, Madison. I’m with Quinn now.” Peter said, pointing at the boy beside him, who was now frowning at your brother.

Quinn. That’s a funny name, you remember thinking.

“We can play with her, I don’t mind—” the boy, Quinn, said, already reaching for the ball.

“Nah, bro. She’s annoying as hell. Once you pick that ball up, you won’t be able to let it go for like, three hours.” Peter replied, already opening the door.

You felt yourself tearing up and even though you hated crying in front of your brother, you couldn’t help it. Growing up, he was your best friend. Your hero even, when your parents decided that arguing during dinner, in front of their children, was a nice thing to do and he would make funny faces at you across the table just so you could laugh. When he pretended to yell at the monster under your bed or when he let you paint his nails with your pink nail polish.

But somewhere between turning fifteen and entering High School, he changed. And you hated every inch of this new Peter Carter.

He entered the house, shouting something, probably announcing to your mom that he was home. And you stood there, looking at your hands.

“Next time, I’ll play with you, okay?” Quinn, who was still standing in front of you, hesitated, looking as devastated as ever.

You felt embarrassed and you got out of there as fast as you could, running back inside and nestling yourself between your covers and plushies.

౨ৎ

YOU didn’t think Quinn had meant what he had said the other day, so you were surprised to see that he showed up the next morning, when both of your parents were at work and Peter was asleep in his bedroom upstairs.

“Hey,” he greeted you, stepping on your backyard patio and looking around. “Nice place you got here. We can play for a long time without risking throwing the ball in Mrs. Wright window.”

You giggled, remembering Mrs. Wright's funny wig.

“I’m Quinn Hughes.” He introduced himself after a while.

“I know that,” you whispered, watching as he laughed. “How old are you?”

“I’m thirteen, but I turn fourteen on October 14th,” he said. “You’re eleven, right?”

“Yes. My birthday was in February. I got this ball,” you raised the ball you were holding so he could see it better. It had your name on it. “And I also got new clothes for my plushies.”

“That sounds nice,” he nodded. “I’ll probably get a new stick on my birthday.”

“Why would you need a stick?” You asked, not sure what he could do with a stick. A tree’s stick. At least that’s what you thought a stick was.

Maybe he wants to put it on his fireplace.

“I play Hockey,” he answered and you still didn’t understand. The only thing you knew about Hockey was that it was the reason you and your family moved to Toronto. So it probably wasn’t a good thing. “And I need a new one.”

“Well, if it makes you happy, then I guess it’s fine,” you shrugged, poking your ball. “But that will probably be boring. You should ask for something cooler.”

He laughed again, sitting on the grass beside you. “I’ll think about that. Thank you for your advice.”

You puffed your chest a little, happy to feel useful for once.

That morning, you and Quinn didn’t end up playing; instead, you talked for hours, with you both asking each other questions about literally everything. From what’s your favorite color to what you wanna be when you grow up.

You could feel your heart racing in your chest every time you stared into his blue eyes that sometimes morphed into a light green shade, but you didn’t understand why. Quinn was being nice, he was treating you just like Peter did before you moved to Toronto and it felt so, so nice.

“Will I see you tomorrow?” You asked, right before he left for lunch at his house.

“I think so.” He smiled, quickly patting you on the head. He gave you a short wave before moving back to his home.

And you just stood there, counting the seconds so that maybe tomorrow would come faster, and you’d finally have a friend again.

[scottlava]

GREAT GREAT SHOWDOWNS HUNT: Day 7 (part 1)

1. Manhattan, USA - These two lovebirds just moved into a new apartment where the one lovebird set up her clay throwing equipment and the other lovebird sits behind her and sexily helps her.  Where was this new apartment? 

UPDATE: This one has found!

2. Baltimore, USA - This young woman is going shopping with her mother for some new things that will look nice on a dance party television show. Where do they film them doing this shopping? 

UPDATE: This one has found!

3. Toronto, CAN - This water creature was stolen from his watery home, but is keeping him safe at this woman’s place. One night he decides to sneak out to see a movie next door.  Where did he go to do that? 

UPDATE: This one has found!

What is happening: I will post some little paintings of characters from popular film scenes from March 9th through 16th. These paintings shall be placed into envelopes and hidden somewhere at the locations in which these scenes were filmed. This could happen in your town!

The first person to find these paintings shall keep them as a gift from me! I only ask that you post a picture of the found painting in your possession, so I can congratulate you in front of the world. Post it on twitter or instagram or email me. LET THE HUNT COMMENCE! 

[xxgoblin-dumplingxx]

Arranged! bruce trying to be a good husband

Bruce leaned down and stroked your cheek with the back of his hand. Your skin is soft. It feels like velvet. And you're crying. Something hurts. And he's not sure if it's his sins or your father's.

He shouldn't. He knows he shouldn't as soon as your eyes flutter open and you look up at him, "You're home."

"What were you dreaming about?" he asked. Maybe while you were groggy- before you had time to wake all the way up-

"I don't- I'm not sure," you murmur, rubbing your face with your hands as you sat up. Pulling your feet up so he could sit down.

Bruce sat, absently tucking the blanket around your legs. You'd been dozed off long enough the fire was burning low. The library was getting chilly. "You were crying." He could count on one hand the number of times he'd seen you cry. And they were all in the last year. Because of him.

"I didn't know."

"Are you alright?" he asked. "I mean- really alright? Not just- I mean. To make me stop talking to you."

"I'm fine," you murmur, wrapping your arms around your knees. Folding yourself together until you can rest your cheeks on the tops of them. Watching the embers in the fireplace. Annoyed that there was no good way to paint them. No way that you liked any way.

"Hn."

For a long moment, Bruce watched you. Maybe he should have let you sleep- let your mind work over whatever it was working on. "If this is fine I'd hate to see what not fine looks like."

"Bruce-"

"What can I do?" he asked. If it was a problem he could fix- something to make it better. Anything. He doesn't understand you. But- he knows you've been in hell. Hormones and hard decisions and then the death of a surrogate parent. He can't- couldn't do this. Not and keep soldiering on. Not alone.

"I'll handle it-"

"I don't even know what it is," he urged. He wanted to make you look at him. But he can feel the walls. The distance you're keeping in place.

"I'm just- tired."

Bruce frowned. You'd been tired for a long time. Pleading exhaustion or headaches. "Things are going to be quiet for a while," he said slowly. "How about we take a trip-"

"Where do you want to go?" you asked, lifting your head gingerly. "I'll call Carolina and-"

"Where do you want to go?" he countered.

"I don't-"

"Come on," he cajoled. "Paris, Rio, California, Toronto, London- fucking Tokyo... Anywhere."

"I don't know," you answer. "Maybe to see the Spanish Riding School... Father said he would take me when I was little."

Bruce smiled a little and stood, leaning down to kiss your forehead. "We'll leave tomorrow. First thing."

[gtahomeservice]

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[aliaology]

THE BEST DAY

summary: older hughes sister and her mama ellen hughes ⭐️

pairings: ellen hughes x daughter!hughes!reader

fluff fluff fluff its also lowkey so bad n short

five years old

it was getting cold in toronto. your big coat fell to your knees as you looked up at your mom with a big grin on your face. she held your seven month old brother as your father held quinn’s hands, helping him skate.

you carefully moved around on the ice, scared to fall. you do well for a solid few seconds before falling straight on your butt, causing your mom to laugh.

instead of crying, you look up smiling at her, immediately getting up from the ice. you quickly skate past her before slipping again. another laugh erupts from your mothers throat.

the sky is slowly turning gold as it sets, signaling it was time to go home. you whine as your mom takes your skates off.

your dad holds baby jack now. quinn is sitting beside you, legs kicking back and forth as he waits for help. your mom slides your boots on and immediately you get off the bench, hugging her legs with a whine.

“i dont want to leave yet.” you groaned. your words muffled due to her pants. she just chuckled and helped quinn.

then, on the ride home, you were fast asleep.

when you woke up, you still had five minutes left until you got home, and both quinn and jack were asleep.

you wondered why the trees changed colors over time, watching them as you passed by each and every one.

you also wondered how your mom wasnt scared that your dad was driving, he speeds!

you rub your eyes.

“i had the best day today” you yawned.

thirteen years old

your friends were mean. really mean. they kicked you from the lunch table, stopped inviting you to hangouts. every class you had with them, they’d ignore you or leave you alone during partner projects.

it came to the point where you were crying as you got home. you opened the door, tears falling down your cheeks as you threw your bag to the floor.

upon hearing the sound, your mother rushed towards you. “hey, hey, honey whats wrong?” she asked.

she immediately pulled you into an embrace. you cried on her shoulder, “why are they all so mean mama? im nothing but nice!” you cried.

she sighed and held you tight. when she pulled away, her hands stayed on your shoulders. “lets go for a drive, okay?” she spoke.

you nodded and wiped your tears as she grabbed the keys.

you both drove and drove until you were a few towns away, where no one would know you guys. you talked, and talked, and talked.

you told her everything that had been going on. everything that they were saying and doing to you. after ranting, she took you window shopping until you forgot all of their names.

when you made it home, you got scared. who were you gonna talk to at school? but then you remembered, you still have the laughter when you’re with your mom.

it may take awhile to feel better but,

“i had the best day with you.” you told.

you have an excellent father. one whos strength makes you stronger. one whos smarts may not always be at its peak but hits it every now and then. one whos cared for you to his very core.

you have perfect younger brothers, who you believe are better than you, inside and out. but altogether you guys are a perfect family.

you grew up in a pretty home, one where you had space to run and hide, and call yours. one where you were able to paint your room a bright pink.

and that place, was where you had the best days of your life.

twenty five years old

you were searching through your old stuff. there you found a camera and immediately you got to charging it. you were three, your mother was still pregnant with quinn.

she set up your paint set in the kitchen, knowing it’d be easier to pick up. in the video, she talked to you. asked what you were painting. to which you responded, “a princess!”

it was a bad painting of a princess on a pirate ship, a really bad painting. so bad, you laughed through your tears as you watched it in your lonesome apartment.

the camera zoomed in to your mother, your father obviously being the one to take the video. shes the prettiest lady in the whole wide world.

now you know why the trees change colors. you know your mother was on your side, even when you were wrong, like when you pushed a kid for calling a teacher ‘stupid’ in the fourth grade.

you were grateful for her, for her watching you shine and become who you were today. you dont know if she knows, but, you always had the best days with her.

ynhughes

liked by elblue_06, jackhughes and others

ynhughes you always know how to make me laugh. miss u mama, better visit more

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is this like.,, good..,

tags; @slaythehousebootsdown13 , @outrunangelss , @um-mads , @bqbylon , @whoreforthehughesbrothers , @p3nislawd , @queenmendes , @absolutelyhugh3s , @hockeyboysarehot ,

[better-choice-painters]

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[may-russell]

Just the two of us… 🎶☕️

You work at a coffee shop and once Hamzah notices you, he becomes a regular.

Word count: 2875 (sorry if it's too long)

!hamzah x fem reader.

!slowburn?

Part 2/3:

As Hamzah was walking towards his car, he kept reliving that last moment between you two, the ambiance in the coffee shop, how you looked, your smile, how you waved at him goodbye, maybe it wasn’t that deep and he was just romanticizing that last interaction. Either way, the chances of something like that happening again were low, he might as well forget about it.

He got into his car, and as he turned it on the radio went off, "Good evening, Toronto! I'm Stevie, your host for tonight, and you're tuned in to Jazz.fm. Get ready to unwind with a timeless favorite, 'Just The Two Of Us' by the one and only Grover Washington Jr. Sit back, relax, and let the music take you on a journey through the night." And just like that he was thinking of excuses to go back and talk to you. –I could pretend I forgot something…  but maybe she’s already gone… I could go back tomorrow and be like ‘Oh I just LOVEEE the coffee here’… hundreds of people go there everyday she won’t even remember me… Why am I even thinking this much about her? She’s just a barista. I don’t even know her. Fuck. I want to know her. This seems like something I should journal about- The drive back home was short, it’s surprising how time works when you’re hyperfocused on something, he was in that coffee shop all afternoon, and even after it closed, but it still wasn’t enough.

Once he was finally home he started to unpack his backpack… “Shit, I did actually forget something. Guess I’m going back tomorrow”.

Next morning

MONDAY

It’s 8:45 am, Hamzah is getting out of the shower and is starting to get ready for the day. He checks his phone and, according to google, the café is about to open, he’s already changed his outfit twice, and ended up settling on a purple hoodie, jeans and a gray hat, something casual whilst still trying to look nice, he even put on cologne. His plan is to run some errands, swing by the coffee shop to retrieve his notebook, and who knows, maybe run into the cute girl he hasn’t stopped thinking about. Oh, and, since he’s already in the area, he’s also meeting Martin for lunch downtown after that.

Once he finishes having breakfast, Hamzah checks his appearance one last time in the mirror, adjusting the tilt of his hat and smoothing down the sleeves of his hoodie. He feels a nervous excitement bubbling inside him as he heads out the door.

As he runs his errands  throughout the morning, his mind keeps drifting back to the coffee shop and the barista. He finds himself taking longer than usual at each stop, mentally rehearsing what he might say if he sees her again. At the hardware store, he absentmindedly compares different shades of paint for his new apartment, thinking about whether she would prefer a cozy warm tone or something brighter.

While picking up groceries, he debates whether to buy something special from the bakery section of the supermarket, just in case he gets the chance to share it with her. Each item he picks up reminds him of their brief encounter—the smell of fresh-baked bread brings back memories of the coffee shop, and he can almost taste the cappuccino and chocolate donut he had the day before.

By the time he finishes his errands, he realizes it's almost time to swing by the coffee shop. He checks his phone nervously, wondering if she'll be there today. His heart races with anticipation as he imagines walking in and seeing her smile again.

He gets on his car and drives, as he reaches the familiar corner where the coffee shop stands, he notices a few early risers already seated outside, sipping their morning brew. Hamzah's heart skips a beat as he pushes open the door, the soft jingle announcing his arrival.

Inside, the familiar aroma of freshly brewed coffee envelops him, mingling with the soft chatter of other customers. Hamzah spots the counter where he had talked to the barista yesterday, but to his disappointment, she's not there. He tries to hide his frown, reminding himself that she might be in the back or arriving later.

Approaching the counter, He asks the barista on duty about his lost notebook. The young woman, not the one he hoped to see, smiles politely and checks behind the counter. After a brief search, she returns empty-handed, apologizing that she doesn't see any notebooks left behind. Just as Hamzah was turning around to leave, relief washed over him as Ethan, the familiar barista from the previous evening, entered the frame holding his black hardcover notebook. "Wait. Is this your notebook?" Ethan asked, handing it over. "The barista working last night told me you might come back for it."

Hamzah's face lit up again. "Thanks! Is she around? I'd like to thank her."

Ethan's expression shifted slightly. "No, she's not here today, but I'll pass on the message that you got it back."

Hamzah pressed further, his eagerness evident. "Do you know when she'll be here? Maybe tomorrow?"

Ethan hesitated, sensing Hamzah's persistence. "She's not coming tomorrow either."

"Well, when is she working next?" Hamzah asked, oblivious to Ethan's growing discomfort.

"Look man," Ethan began, trying to keep his tone friendly yet firm, "I can't give out that information. I'm sure you mean well, but I can't help you."

Hamzah finally caught on, feeling embarrassed. "Sorry, I just... I had a nice chat with her last night, and I forgot to ask for her name. I didn't mean to be weird or anything."

Ethan nodded understandingly. "I get it, but you'll have to swing by some other time if you want to see her again."

"Thanks, and sorry again," Hamzah said, realizing he had crossed a boundary. With a nod of farewell, he left the coffee shop, feeling disappointed yet understanding of Ethan's position.

After leaving the coffee shop, Hamzah made his way downtown to meet Martin for lunch. As he walked through the bustling streets of Toronto, his mind wandered back to his brief visit to the coffee shop and the disappointment of not seeing the barista again. He replayed the conversation with Ethan in his head, wondering when he might have another opportunity to return.

Arriving at their favorite lunch spot, Hamzah spotted Martin already seated at a corner table, waving enthusiastically as he approached. The restaurant buzzed with the hum of conversations and clinking of cutlery, creating a lively atmosphere that contrasted with the quiet of the coffee shop.

"Hey man, you made it!" Martin greeted him with a grin, gesturing for Hamzah to take a seat. "What's up? You seem a bit distracted."

Hamzah slid into the chair opposite Martin, trying to shake off his thoughts about the barista. "Yeah, just had a morning errand to run," he replied vaguely, not wanting to burden Martin with his romantic musings just yet.

Martin raised an eyebrow teasingly. "Morning errand, huh? Anything exciting happen?"

Hamzah chuckled nervously, deciding to share a toned-down version of his coffee shop visit. "Not really, just went to pick up something I left behind yesterday."

Martin leaned in curiously. "Oh? What did you forget?"

"My notebook," Hamzah explained briefly. "I left it at this new coffee shop I checked out yesterday. The barista there... she was really nice."

Martin's eyes lit up with interest. "Ah, I see where this is going. Did you get her number?"

Hamzah sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Nah, I didn't even get her name. And when I went back today, she wasn't there."

Martin frowned sympathetically. "Bummer, man. But hey, maybe it's fate. You'll probably run into her again."

"Yeah, maybe," Hamzah agreed half-heartedly. "Anyway, how's your day been so far?"

The conversation drifted to lighter topics as they ordered their lunch and caught up on each other's lives. Martin shared updates about his work projects, and Hamzah talked about his plans for the podcast and the ongoing move. Despite his disappointment from earlier, being with Martin helped to lighten his mood.

As they finished their meal and paid the bill, Hamzah felt a renewed sense of determination. He knew he would visit the coffee shop again, notebook or no notebook, in the hope of seeing the barista once more. Maybe next time, he thought to himself, he would remember to ask for her name.

Your Pov:

MONDAY

It’s 6:00 in the morning, you’ve just woken up, you’re mustering up the strenght to get out of bed and start getting ready for work. You play your favorite playlist and get dressed, still tired from getting home later than usual last night, but hanging around that cute guy made it a bit worth it. As you make breakfast, you hear a familiar tune

-I see the crystal raindrops fall And the beauty of it all Is when the sun comes shining through To make those rainbows in my mind When I think of you sometime And I wanna spend some time with you-

Suddendly you’re dancing around your kitchen, having one of those “Ah, this is the life” moments, realizing it would be much more exciting if there was someone dancing and singing next to you, but you can’t let those thoughts haunt you for long, the day has just begun. You check yourself in the mirror before heading out the door, you get in your car and it makes that same weird sound it’s been making for the past week, “Mhm, I’m sure it’s nothing” you say, brushing it off, and off you go.

At around 11 am you get a text from Ethan, “Hey, the guy from last night came by to pick up his notebook. He kept asking about you”. “What did he say?” You texted back.

“Not much, he wanted to know your name, and was pretty insistent on when he could see you again to “thank you”  👀 a bit weird”.

“Ohhh u should’ve told him, he was cute lol”

“haha I’m sure he’ll come back”.

You put your phone down and continued doing your work, you thought thinking about him throughout the day was too much, but it seemed like his interest was more than a simple “thank you”. Like there was some unfinished busssiness between the both of you.  As you went about your tasks, the memory of his earnest inquiries lingered in the back of your mind. You couldn't help but wonder what he was like beyond that brief interaction—what his name was, what he did when he wasn't at the coffee shop, and why he seemed so eager to see you again.

Despite trying to push the thoughts aside, you found yourself checking your phone a little too often, half-expecting another message from Ethan with an update. Each time, you told yourself to focus on your work, but the anticipation was undeniable.

As the day progressed, you couldn't shake the feeling that his visit had left a mark. It wasn't just about retrieving a forgotten notebook anymore; there seemed to be an unspoken connection, a curiosity that went beyond politeness. Maybe he would come back, you mused, imagining the possibility of seeing him again. You’ve never been more excited to clock in at work on a weekend.

WEDNESDAY

It’s been three days since your last (and only) encounter. Hamzah is out for a run, “Bags” by Clairo’s playing on his AirPods—‘Can you see me? I’m waiting for the right time. I can’t read you but if you want the pleasure is all mine’—he hums along, remembering a clip of a genius interview where Clairo explained the meaning behind the song, how when you have a crush on someone, every minute you’re not spending with them feels like a waste of time, and, inevitably, he was thinking about you again.

This whole infatuation feels a bit ridiculous to Hamzah, but no one had taken his interest like that before, plus he had already embarrassed himself to you coworker, he was already in too deep to not see where going down this road would lead him. He felt an unexplainable attraction towards a complete stranger, like there was a rope in his chest pulling him to you, to that coffee shop, and before he realized it, he was there again, it was like he was running on autopilot and his subconcsious had taken him there, I mean, he was planning on paying a visit today, but not now; he hadn’t thought about what he would say if you we’re there, but he couldn’t stop himself from walking in.

He approached the counter, skimming through the menu, his order was still as basic as before, but this time he got an oatmeal and green apple cookie instead of a chocolate donut. “Is this to go? Or to eat here?” The cashier asked as he turned his head to face him “Hey! It’s you again”.

“Heeeyyy, I’m back” Hamzah  shyly replied, “Umm, to go, please”.  

“Yeah, I figured. She’s not here btw, but she said you were good, come back on Saturday”.

Hamzah’s eyes widen, a smile creeping into his lips, he tries to play it cool but the excitement in his voice was evident. “She said that? She’ll be here?”.

“Yeah haha, here you go” Ethan replied with a smile.

“Thanks! Guess I’ll see you in a few days, um… Ethan,” He said pointing to the nametag hanging on the cashier’s black apron, “I’m Hamzah” He continued, reaching out for  handshake.

“Yeah, see you.” Ethan says, shaking his hand back.

Hamzah left the coffee shop with a newfound sense of anticipation for Saturday. The thought of seeing you again lingered in his mind as he drove home. He couldn’t help but replay the brief interactions and your smile, which seemed to brighten the entire coffee shop.

As the week progressed, Hamzah found himself constantly thinking about Saturday. He went about his usual routines, working on his podcast episodes, filming with Martin and settling into his new apartment, but your image kept creeping into his thoughts. He wondered what Saturday would bring—would you remember him? Would you be as friendly and approachable as before?

Saturday finally arrived...

and Hamzah found himself standing outside the coffee shop, trying to calm his nerves. He wore a casual outfit, hoping to strike the right balance between laid-back and presentable. Taking a deep breath, he pushed open the door and stepped inside.

The familiar aroma of coffee greeted him, mingling with the soft hum of conversations. Ethan was behind the counter again, and as soon as he spotted Hamzah, he grinned knowingly. Hamzah approached with a hesitant smile.

"Hey, Ethan! Is she here today?" he asked, trying to sound nonchalant.

Ethan chuckled. "Yeah, she's around. Just a sec."

Hamzah's heart raced as Ethan disappeared into the back. He glanced around the coffee shop, spotting you arranging cups on a nearby shelf. You looked up, and for a moment, your eyes met. A smile tugged at your lips as recognition sparked between you.

Hamzah felt a rush of relief and excitement. When Ethan returned, he gestured towards you. "Hey, she'll be with you in a moment."

Sure enough, you approached the counter with a warm smile. "Hey! You’re back. Heard you’ve been asking about me," you greeted him.

"Yeah, couldn't resist coming back," Hamzah replied with a sheepish grin. "I wanted to thank you properly for last time."

You chuckled softly. "No problem at all. What were you working on that day? You seemed pretty focused."

"Oh, just some podcast stuff and a bit of writing," Hamzah explained, feeling more at ease now that he was talking to you again.

"That's cool," you said, nodding. "Well, I'm glad you came back. Can I get you anything today?"

Hamzah glanced at the menu, though he had already decided on something basic. "Just a cappuccino and... another chocolate donut, please."

You nodded, punching in his order. As you prepared it, the conversation flowed easily between you. Hamzah learned a bit more about you—your interests, your love for books and jazz music, and your favorite places in Toronto. He shared some details about his work and recent move, finding common ground in unexpected places.

When you handed him his order, Hamzah hesitated for a moment. "Hey, I know this might be forward, but would you like to grab coffee or something sometime? Outside of this coffee shop, I mean," he asked, hoping he wasn't coming on too strong.

Your smile widened, and you glanced at Ethan who was discreetly giving you an encouraging nod. "I'd like that," you replied. "Here, let me give you my number."

Hamzah's heart leaped with joy as he took your phone and entered his number. "Great, I'll text you so you have mine too," he said, handing your phone back to you.

As Hamzah left the coffee shop that day, he couldn't stop smiling. He had come back hoping to see you again, and now he had plans to meet up outside of work. It felt like the beginning of something exciting, and he couldn't wait to see where it would lead.

hope u like it! Part 3

@1800-love-me