#t. jost
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onlyherefortyson · 9 months ago
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sir
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penaltybox-gossip · 2 months ago
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Who is Riley white dating?
Tyson Jost. Please check the wag list next time and the tags
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shutth3puckup · 2 years ago
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some tea about tyson jost?
haven't heard much on him recently, follows a lot of women on insta but I don't see him liking a lot of their posts
It's been said he is very picky about women
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cassiopeialake · 8 months ago
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snl tomorrow is about to be real interesting
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lobo1tomia · 1 year ago
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Mit olvastunk mostanában? - a 248. epizód
Az előző évadunk a pöttyös-csíkos könyvek bűvöletében telt, lassan azonban visszatérünk a megszokott műsorsugárzáshoz és a vegyes tematikánkhoz. Első átvezető epizódunk így nem is lehetne más, mint egy rövid(nek szánt) visszatekintés arról, mit olvastunk mostanában. Tartsatok velünk! Friss olvasmányaink Le is töltenéd? Popkult, csajok, satöbbi S11E01 Ahol lehet értékelni is: ITunes…
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samgirard · 4 months ago
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what are some of ur fave fics? like what's in ur hockey rpf hall of fame
okay now that the trade deadline is over i can think about this more. this is by no means comprehensive, but here are some all timers. i encourage you to check out other works by these authors, and maybe leave a comment if you can, even if they're mostly older fics:
avs fic:
most of these are from the golden age of the  17-20 colorado avalance experience where i cut my teeth as a fic author and there's a lot of bias  to many of the authors that i have know and love dearly
i hear them whisper (you won't believe it) by dalmatienne, t, nathan mackinnon/erik johnson
the one where ej talks to horses. my dear friend ani knows their horses and knows their comedy, and the improbable amount of horses coupled with ej as a mother hen at his absolute peak makes for a relentless riot of hilarity and warmth
What It's Like Falling In Love When You're Gay and Super Dumb And Also Don't Bother Defining Your Relationships, by littleconnections, e, tyson jost/jt compher/alexander kerfoot
the rookie house fic to me, the perfect sex comedy that balances the jokes with the emotions and the searing hot sex between three of my favorite idiots who i miss dearly
contrapositive by oflights, e, tyson barrie/gabe landeskog, tyson barrie/roman josi
allie oflights’ works are classics for a reason, but i was around for some of the building of this fic and it's truly a masterpiece. it's a whirlwind european romance that ends in the most devastating way contrasted with the heavy inevitable dance of gabe and tyson and the emotional throughline is fraught, but very well earned, patiently built until it all hits you with the little details
Big Horny's Guide to Finding Love (and Then Some) for the Modern Man by venvephe, e, erik johnson/nathan mackinnon, grindr au
my favorite ej/nate fic and delightful to reread in the wake of ej returning to the team. i've read a lot of grindr aus and this one really gets both the intense dramatic irony of it all and what grindr is all about, and it really, really works. my favorite thing about fics from this era is the team dynamic, and this one gets that core so well, especially ej and gabe
other teams:
my unicycle has one wheel by mcspot, t, brock boeser/elias pettersson, wiggles au
i reread this one about once a year, sometimes more, basically every time i learn any new information about the wiggles. this is the fic where petey is the blue wiggle and brock has an obsessive parasocial crush on him in the funniest way possible. it's ridiculous and the choices brock makes in this fic make me want to run through a wall every single time i read it
climbing the same mountain on different sides by raregoose, e, brock boeser/elias pettersson, jt miller/elias pettersson, quinn hughes pov
i also like the thatcher/quinn sequel but something about the first part of this series always draws me back; the outsider pov is done perfectly in a way that draws the mess of petey's relationships that quinn is caught in the middle of (his thing with jt makes me even more insane in the year of our lord 2025 when they are having public feuds that the gm is commenting on) along with quinn’s slow burn realization of his own feelings and sexuality that creeps up on him so well while still being in a failing long distance relationship it's delicious to me 
foolproofed by ladyeggplant, t, mat barzal/anthony beauvillier, ba test kitchen au
look i know the bon appetit test kitchen has been tainted by scandal and that time when it was all i watched is long gone, but that doesn't stop this fic from capturing the absolute best of it. i wholeheartedly recommend anything ladyegg has ever written, which includes basically the only f1 fic i've ever read, but this was my first and the one i hold closest to my heart. it's a love letter to claire saffitz, to new york city, to horny comment sections, to food as an expression of love, and to barzy and beau at their peak. this fic is a warm hug and freshly baked bread, every time. 
Hockey At The End of the World by ionthesparrow, m, jeff carter/mike richards, dystopian au
i didn't actually reread this one for this list bc if i did i would be doing it for days, but i know it would be worth it. this series is a classic in hockey rpf for a reason. it's one of the most intricately crafted, emotionally fraught, and carefully worldbuilt pieces of fiction i have ever read, let alone fanfiction. my personal favorite in the series is the last one, the tyler toffoli/tanner pearson post-revolution political thriller, but you really need to read the rest of it to get there.
Happy Endings by makeit_takeit, e, nolan patrick/travis konecny, massage parlor au
this fic is reconciling with the worst aspects of hockey men’s politics, internalized and externalized homophobia and creates one of the most fascinating character studies i've ever seen in hockey rpf. nolan is not a good person in this, from the very premise that he's going to a massage parlor to get a happy ending, and this fic doesn't shy away from that, and there's a rawness and realness to that that is relentlessly compelling. there's a catharsis in facing the ugliest parts of these men, and this fic captures that perfectly in a way that most hockey rpf tries to avoid
in the dark of any town by mengetpegged, m, travis konecny/nolan patrick, hotel x ghost au
this one's kind of cheating bc it's based off of my own prompt in the bubble prompt meme, but it's still one of my favorites. i can't believe it's almost been five years since the hotel x bubble, but i truly think no fic encapsulates how claustrophobic and batshit insane the whole thing was to have the entire eastern conference in one hotel for months and it's just as much a classic for that as it is a very sweet and funny romance with a hint of tragedy about ghosts.
fragrant by tokyometropolis, e, will smith/macklin celebrini, omegaverse supernose au
this is probably going to be the newest fic on this list and if you're coming to me for fic recs you probably know that i've gone on an insane willmack fever dream experience, but this fic has cemented itself as one of my favorite takes on omegaverse. it's raunchy in a compelling way, that truly captures the whirlwind freak4freak energy that is these baby sharks
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matbaerzal · 1 month ago
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blurb idea: tyson wants to golfing with you despite your protests and he’s lucky you love him so much so you let him drag you along but not without some tricks up your sleeve. you’re a total tease not wearing any panties underneath your short golf skirt and you’re bratty and push tyson’s buttons until he can’t take it anymore and guides you back to the clubhouse to fuck you in the bathroom
This has been in my drafts half finished for three years omg. After answering the other request I felt inspired to have a look at some old ones... I am so sorry to whoever requested this that it took so long, you've probably forgotten it by now if you're even still following and all that. ANYWAYS here's some tyson jost smut! NSFW under the cut (and a little over the cut too) Words: 1,4K
Tyson could feel his cock hardening as you hand him your lacy panties, the innocent look you're trying to give him doesn't quite hide your smirk. During your quick bathroom break, you'd come up with a plan to hopefully make your day more fun for yourself.
Tyson had managed to convince you to tag along to golf with him, despite your protests. Even though you had tried to be openminded once you got here, in the end you'd been right – you really didn't like golf, no, you hated it actually. The only positive thing was that Tyson looked incredibly hot, but ultimately even that became a negative thing because now all you could think about was him and how good his hands looked wrapped around the stupid golf club. And how his biceps looked in his tight t-shirt and how his pants perfectly showed off his thighs and butt. So, you thought it was only fair of you to even the playing field.
"What do you think you're doing?" he quickly shoves the lace into his pocket before anyone sees.
"I'm not doing anythi-".
"Don't even try to act all innocent right now" he warns you.
You press your thighs together at his tone, your plan was already working, and you couldn't wait until you finally got what you wanted out of him.
"Just trying to make your day as torturous as mine has been so far" you bite back.
"Is that so?".
"Mhm".
He scoffs, "right, if you think I'm gonna give you what you want you're wrong, baby."
"Wanna bet?" you look down at his obvious bulge, knowing he's trying to convince himself more than he's trying to convince you.
--
It didn't take long for you to realize that you'd underestimated his willpower a little. While the best-case scenario would have been him dragging you right back to the clubhouse right after you'd given him your panties, you knew it wasn't likely. But it had been over an hour now. You'd been rubbing his thigh as he drove the golf cart, but he brushed your hand away if it crept up too high. You'd been bending over a little extra as it was your turn to take a shot – but all he'd done was correct your posture.
You huff out, as you take the golf club Tyson hands you. Tyson's been clear enough now that nothing's happening, so you give up on the games and just think of all the pointers he's given you on how to stand. You spread your feet just right, hold the club the way you're supposed to, you don't bother to bend down any further than you need to this time. You're about to take a swing as Tyson steps up behind you.
"What is it this time?" you frown.
"Uuuh, your- your feet are too far apart" he tries.
"No, they're not" you look down.
"Yeah, they're supposed to be like this" he puts his hand on your thigh to guide your foot closer to the other, barely moving it.
"Wow, Tyson, thank you" you say sarcastically, "I'm sure my shot's gonna be great now that my feet are half an inch closer together". You turn around to look at him, only to find him blushing like he's been caught in a lie. "Are you sure you didn't just want to feel me up?" you tease.
"Pfft, no".
"I'd be fine with that, you know – feel free to put your hand up my skirt".
"Babe" he groans.
"No, seriously, I'd love for you to feel how wet I am right now"
"Shh" He looks around, as if to check if anyone heard you, even though there's no one nearby. Turns out you've been reading him all wrong, he's been coming up with excuses to touch you all along. You turn back around, making sure to exaggerate your incorrect pose again. He shakes his head at himself, knowing it was only a matter of time before you got what you wanted. He can't help but laugh a little as he steps up behind you again. "There you go baby, that's it" you say as his hands are on you again. He breathes out as his forehead lands on your shoulder, his willpower finally crumbling.
"You're driving me crazy" he kisses your shoulder, his hands moving up to grip your hips, pressing himself against you to show you just how crazy you've driven him. You bite your lip, sinking into his body – "please, Tyson".
"Fuck, okay, let's go".
--
Tyson lifts you onto the countertop in the bathroom, he pushes your legs further apart before his hand pushes your skirt up to bunch around your waist. "Hold it there for me, babe" he waits for you to grab the fabric before he brings his fingers down, running them over your clit and down to your enrance. He kisses you to catch your moan in his mouth as he starts to tease you.
"This what you've been wanting?" he speaks against you mouth as his fingers circles your clit. You shake your head, "no".
"No?" he removes his fingers, making your grab his wrist to guide him back again.
"I mean, I want more".
"Oh, so you want this?" he pushes a finger into you making your toes curl. Your brain goes fussy, making you stutter as you answer him. "N-No, I want your cock".
"Yeah?" He removes his finger, slipping it into his mouth to clean it before he unbuckles his belt, and unzips his pants. Before he's pushed them down you pull his cock out, bringing him closer to you. He grips your thighs, sliding you to the egde of the counter as you guide his tip to where you need him. He pushes in slowly with a groan, swearing under his breath as you wrap your legs around him.
"'m really not gonna last long" he hides his face in your neck, you feel his breath against you as he grips your skirt tight, taking a moment to collect himself. "That's okay" you say, brushing your hand through his hair, scratching his scalp. He kisses your neck before leaning back to look at you.
His thumb finds your clit, shaking his head to say it's not okay – "gotta make you come first". His hips stay still as his free hand goes to push your top up. Taking the hint, you remove it for him along with your sports bra. His lips kiss your newly revealed skin, before he wraps his mouth around your nipple.
You can't help but move your hips as you feel yourself get closer, your head tilts back with a moan but Tyson wraps his hand behind your neck before your head hits the wall, pressing your forehead against his. "There she is" he murmurs, letting you fuck yourself on his cock.
His brows furrow, and he closes his eyes, "fuck- baby rub your clit for me, can you do that?" desperation drips from his words. You nod, moving your hand down to replace his. The second you do, both his hands grab your hips before he thrusts into you hard.
"Please tell me you're close" he begs you as he sets his pace.
"It's ok, baby" you say, meaning yeah I'm close, but I can tell you're closer.
"No- god, you feel too good" his fingers dig into your skin, trying to hold on to his control.
"Please".
He's a mess, shaking his head, stuck between not wanting to come before you and not being able to stop fucking you.
"I need you to come for me, Tyson".
"Fuuck-" his hips snap into yours, his control slipping away, you feel him pulsing inside you as he fills you up. His hips start to move slower, but he's still hitting deep inside you. You let yourself watch him, as you bring yourself to the edge. You feel yourself clench around him just as his hips stop, his eyes open just before yours close. He holds you close as your orgasm runs through your body, hiding his face in your neck, moaning from how sensitive he is.
You can't help but let out a giggle as you come down, your legs feeling like jelly as you unwrap them. His hands move down to squeeze you thighs as he breathes out a laugh himself. He goes to pull out
"Hey, careful" you warn him.
"Hmm?" he raises a brow in confusion.
"Don't get cum on my skirt" you clarify.
"So, you'll walk around with no panties under this skirt, but god forbid you get cum on it".
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fashion-of-the-past · 2 months ago
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Renaissance fashion myth-busting: The Codpiece The codpiece is a part of 16th century fashion that looks weird to many modern observers. While having a padded, suggestively shaped piece of fabric in front of your crotch seems inherently sexual to some people nowadays, for men in the 16th century, it was just an ordinary part of their hose and breeches. Even though we know that sexual jokes about the codpiece existed back then, there are no sources indicating that people saw them a inherently problematic. When young boys got the their first pair of hose, it might have already featured a codpiece - and when old men were buried in their last pair of breeches, there also might have been a codpiece present. It wasn´t seen as frivolous or indecent, just as a suitable sign of masculinity (which was a pretty complex topic in the 16th century). In modern times, wild myths and theories about the codpiece emerged - some which are still spread today without any historical source and evidence. For example, there is the myth that many men owned a collection of codpieces that they could just fasten to their breeches as they liked - in reality, codpieces were sewn to the breeches and could not simply be removed or exchanged. At least we have no sources indicating the opposite.
The codpieces also served a practical purpose: As they added additional fabric between the legs, they were an important part of the tight fitting hose of the early 16th century; a part that couldn´t just be removed without making the hose unwearable. And while there might have been cases of men using their codpieces as purses or pockets (another popular codpiece-myth), all extant codpieces are nothing more than fashionable, practical details on their respective breeches.
So while codpieces might look super wild and interesting to us - for people in the 16th century, they were most likely nothing interesting or special.
1. picture: Detail from Pieter Bruegel´s "De parabel der blinden", 1568. 2./3. picture: Woodcuts from Jost Amman´s Kunstbüchlin, 1590s.
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laurenairay · 7 months ago
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A reason to start over new - T. Jost
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Summary: It’s been five years since Lucy has seen her ex-boyfriend Tyson. Can his grandparents’ Christmas party fix their broken hearts?
Happy birthday @senditcolton! This is my fic for your birthday bingo – I had a lot of fun with this one! I chose The Hand Touch, Exes to Lovers, Free Space (Resolved Angst), “You’re Too Good for Me”, and Winter Romance, making it a full bingo! Hope you have a wonderful day Nicole.
A massive thank you to @jostyriggslover96 for reading through this!
Words: 3.3k
Warnings: angst, flashback to breakup, some bad language, self-deprecation.
Title from The Reason, by Hoobastank
~
I've found a reason for me, To change who I used to be, A reason to start over new, And the reason is you.
~
“Oh wow, Val and Jim have really outdone themselves this year, haven’t they?”
Lucy glanced around at the Christmas decorations surrounding them, smiling at her mom’s words.
“Full of holiday cheer, as always!” she nodded.
She took off her thick coat and gloves, glad to be out of the icy air, hanging them up on the rack put out for guests.
“Now honey, if it’s too much, you can slip out back and head home, okay?” her mom said seriously, albeit quietly.
“You said that last year. And the year before that. For the last five years, actually,” Lucy mused.
“And I’ve meant it every year. They might be our neighbours, but you are my baby. And my priority, always,” her mom said seriously.
Not for the first time, Lucy was thankful to have the mom she did.
“And I appreciate it. But I’m going to be fine,” she said, smiling fondly.
“Alright, if you’re sure. You just send me a sneaky text if you change your mind though, yes?”
“Yeah, thanks mom,” Lucy beamed.
The Christmas Eve Party thrown by her neighbours was a tradition she’d attended her entire life, and even though she hadn’t dated their grandson in half a decade, Val and John had always insisted that she still came along. A lingering effect of being childhood sweethearts, she supposed.
“Amy! Gary! Lucy!”
The welcome from their neighbours was warm and effervescent as it always was, and soon enough Lucy found herself swept in by conversation and catching up. She may have gone to college in UBC Okanagan in Kelowna for both her degrees, barely away from home, but she’d lived in campus residence for all four years of her bachelor’s degree and moved out of her parents’ house properly into a small apartment near campus for her master’s degree. It would’ve been easy to move home after guaranteed accommodation ended, but Lucy had wanted to keep the independence she had grown to love, and it wasn’t as if she didn’t visit her parents at least every other weekend.
But it was still nice to be able to talk about her accomplishments with the people that she’d grown up alongside, especially now that she was in the final year of her master’s degree and looking like she was on track for starting the PhD she’d always aimed for.
After a couple of hours, she escaped the crowds in the living and dining areas, grateful for the sanctuary of the kitchen. There were a few plates of cookies and other Christmas treats laid out, and Lucy couldn’t resist reaching out for a snickerdoodle…
…at the exact time as someone else.
She jumped in surprise as a large hand rested on top of hers, not realising anyone was next to her, but as she looked up, she couldn’t but to freeze despite the warmth of his touch. Tyson. It was Tyson’s hand touching hers.
“Oh fuck, I’m sorry, I…Lucy?”
“Hey Tys,” she managed to breathe.
The familiar curls, the big beautiful eyes, the sweet smile, and now a little bit of stubble? He looked good. Of course he looked good.
Tyson quickly drew his hand away from hers, breaking her out of her thoughts.
“Uh, you have it, I shouldn’t be eating baked goods too much anyway,” Tyson said, rubbing the back of his neck a little sheepishly.
Lucy pursed her lips and broke a third of the snickerdoodle off, handing it to Tyson with a raised eyebrow. Tyson huffed out a laugh but accepted the offered treat, sending her a small smile of thanks. Fuck, it may have been five years since they broke up, but he really hadn’t changed, had he?
“So, uh, you still come to these parties?” Tyson asked.
Lucy bit her bottom lip but nodded.
“Yeah, your grandparents insist. I hope that’s okay,” she winced.
“Of course it is,” Tyson said quickly, “They always loved you.”
Well that was something at least. Why did this feel so awkward? Sure, it had been five years since she’d seen Tyson, but they dated from eight years – surely they had more than this?
“I don’t usually come to these. Well, I guess you already know that, if you come every year. I, uh, I have the 24th to the 26th off this year, so I didn’t want to miss another Christmas with my grandparents,” Tyson explained.
“I bet Val and Jim were over the moon when you told them,” Lucy mused.
Tyson laughed softly, nodding. “They were. Mom and Kacey didn’t hesitate to come to Kelowna to join us, so it’s a big family Christmas this year.”
“That’s great, Tys. Really. Spending Christmas with your loved ones is important,” she said softly, smiling.
His smile dimmed a little, but he nodded.
“How’s, uh, how’s your degree going? Gramps said you’re doing a master’s now?”
He knew that? Did he ask? Or did Jim just tell him?
“Uh, yeah. I graduated my bachelor's degree magna cum laude back in 2020 and went straight into starting my graduate program there. I’m a paid teaching assistant for my supervisory professor too.”
“That’s incredible, Luce. Still doing Earth and Environmental Sciences?” Tyson prompted.
He remembered? After all this time?
“Yeah, yeah it is. Focusing in on environmental impact assessment for my master’s thesis,” she nodded, a little stunned, “I didn’t think…I didn’t think you’d remember.”
“Of course I remember. You were always so passionate about your studies – it was one of the things I loved most about you,” he said softly.
“Tyson…” Lucy said faintly, trailing off when no words would come.
He smiled sadly at her, shaking his head.
“Sounds like…it sounds like everything was worth it for you,” Tyson murmured.
~
2019
“So you can’t make it over?”
“No, Tys, I can’t, I have labs to do,” Lucy sighed.
“We haven’t seen each other in so long!”
“I can’t just not go to my classes because you want me in Denver! You know this!” she groaned.
“I know, I know, but it sucks.”
Lucy frowned, even though he couldn’t see her. “You’re the one who didn’t come home for Christmas, remember?”
“The schedule didn’t make sense, and I offered to fly you down?”
“Tyson!” she groaned.
He stayed silent on the other end of the phone, a silence that sent an ominous shiver down her spine.
“So where do we go from here?”
“W-What?” she said, confused at the dull tone of his voice.
“Your priority is college, my priority is hockey, and neither of us can compromise. I would never ask you to compromise, just like you wouldn’t ask me. We have different priorities, clearly. So where do we go from here?”
“Tyson, are you really saying what I think you’re saying?” she whimpered.
“Yeah, I think we should break up.”
“We’ve been together for eight years! You’re the only boyfriend I’ve ever had, the only guy I’ve ever wanted. And you want to break up, just like that?”
“I don’t want to break up, Luce. But what other option do we have? Neither of us can give the other what we need right now. We have to focus on ourselves, don’t we? For our own careers? You have so much ahead of you and I can’t be there to celebrate it. And you can’t be by my side cheering me on from the stands. I love you, Lucy. But this isn’t working anymore.”
~
“Tyson, why would you say it like that? You think it’s been easy for me?” Lucy asked, throat a little choked.
“No, no, of course not,” he groaned.
“Then what do you mean?”
“Look, forget I said anything, okay? It was really good to see you, Luce.”
Before Lucy could say a word, Tyson walked away, leaving her alone in the kitchen with her head spinning. What the hell was that?
For the final few hours of the party, Lucy indulged in a couple more glasses of wine than she intended, sticking solidly by her parents’ sides. She did her best to keep a smile on her face and ease into the Christmas festivity, even when Laura and Kacey said their hellos, but her mind just kept going back to Tyson.
“We’re going to start saying our goodbyes, okay honey? Why don’t you find all our coats.”
Lucy just nodded at her mom’s suggestion, grateful for the opportunity to escape the crowd. Well, she was grateful, until she saw Tyson sitting on the bench next to the coat rack, face flushed and eyes glassy. He was drunk, at least moderately so.
“Ah, fuck, I didn’t want you to see me like this,” he said, voice slurring.
What did he mean by that?
“I’m just getting our coats. We’re heading out,” she murmured, trying to ignore the whoosh in her stomach.
“Already?”
“It’s nearly midnight, Tys,” she said, smiling wryly.
“Well, fuck. Time flies when you’re having whiskey, I guess,” he groaned, putting his empty glass on the bench next to him.
She huffed out a laugh, unhooking the coats when she finally spotted them.
“You look good, Luce,” he murmured, looking up at her through his eyelashes.
“I do?” she blurted.
Damn it.
But Tyson just grinned. “Yeah, you really do. You always looked good, but damn you’ve really settled into your own skin, eh?”
“I love who I am, yeah,” she nodded.
She wasn’t lying, or even placating. Her studies in environmental impact had opened up a whole new side of her she hadn’t even realised was there, and she loved everything about the person she’d become through it. She just hadn’t realised it was obvious on the outside.
Then again, if anyone was going to notice something like that about her, it was going to be Tyson, wasn’t it?
“You’re too good for me.”
Oh fuck.
“That’s not true. Not even slightly,” Lucy said, frowning.
“No? I can barely get a team to keep me, and you’re soaring ahead with your academic career, just like you deserve,” Tyson scoffed.
This was just the alcohol talking. It had to be.
“Tys, those teams are the ones missing out. You’re amazing,” she said softly.
He paused for a moment, before shaking his head.
“If I’m so amazing, why did we break up?”
Because he had to put hockey first.
Because she had to put college first.
Because neither of them were each other’s first choice.
“That’s not fair, Tyson. We were kids when we first started dating. Barely 13 years old. And we were together for eight years! We had an incredible relationship! It just…we wanted different things. Our priorities were different, our passions were different – we might have grown up together, but we’d also grown apart. Your life is hockey and my life is academics, and that’s okay! That doesn’t mean we didn’t have love, yeah?”
The way that Tyson’s eyes filled up with tears made her own eyes water, dangerous lump rising in her throat.
“If I could go back and change it all, I would. I’d choose you. I’d always choose you.”
His soft words tore a sob from her throat and she shook her head. How could he be so cruel?
“Don’t say that. We made the right decision five years ago and you know it,” she whimpered.
Tyson’s face fell at her devastated expression, and he staggered to his feet.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you. I’m sorry,” he said sadly.
And yet here she was, broken hearted all over again.
“I should go. I need to go,” was all she could manage to choke out.
“Lucy, baby, please…”
But Lucy just shook her head, clutching the coats in her hands, shaky smile on her lips as the tears finally fell. “Merry Christmas, Tyson.”
~
“So what happened at the Christmas Eve Party that has you all torn up like this?”
Lucy flinched at her mom’s voice, turning her head to see her standing in the doorway to her bedroom.
“Nothing,” she said quickly.
“Uh huh, and I’m a fairy princess,” her mom snorted.
Lucy couldn’t help but giggle, earning a fond smile as her mom walked into the room and sat down next to her on her bed. Lucy placed a bookmark in the book she’d been reading to give her mom her full attention. She’d needed a little respite from all the preparations to hold her dad’s family for a late lunch, after all the intensity of having her mom’s family over yesterday on Christmas Day, but she’d found herself reliving her conversation with Tyson over and over.
“Sounds like…it sounds like everything was worth it for you.”
“You’re too good for me.”
“If I’m so amazing, why did we break up?”
“If I could go back and change it all, I would. I’d choose you. I’d always choose you.”
So really, her mom coming up to talk to her was a welcome break from all of that as well.
“If you know it was the Christmas Eve Party then you can take a guess,” Lucy said, shrugging.
“I’d rather hear it from you, when Tyson’s involved,” her mom mused.
Well at least her mom was blunt about it.
“We had a couple of conversations, and it stirred up old emotions, old drama. He…mom, he said he’d go back and change it all if he could. That he’d always choose me. What am I supposed to do with that?”
Her mom blinked a couple of times, lips parted in a surprised, before she coughed out a laugh.
“Well I could never accuse Tyson of being subtle.”
“Mom, seriously. This is stressing me out. I can’t stop thinking about it,” Lucy groaned.
“I think that’s an answer in itself, sweetheart,” she said softly.
“What?”
Her mom stayed silent, just nudging Lucy with her shoulder, and Lucy nudged back out of habit. What did she mean, that was an answer in itself?
“Lucy, honey, if you can’t stop thinking about Tyson choosing you above everything else, that means something,” her mom eventually said with a huffed laugh.
“But how can it? He still has his hockey, and I still have academics. Neither of those are going to change any time soon,” Lucy said sadly.
Because at the end of the day, that was the bottom line of it all. Their priorities haven’t changed.
“Just because your both still have your passions doesn’t mean that they have to be your only love. You can have both,” her mom said firmly.
What?
“How can I have both?” Lucy asked, confused.
“Do you love him?” was all she said.
“What?” Lucy said, surprised.
“Do you love him?” her mom repeated.
Lucy opened her mouth, shutting it again before huffing out a laugh. There was only one answer to that.
“Yeah, I never stopped,” she replied.
“Then you can have both. You spent the last five years missing him, and I know damn well that that boy missed you too - neither of you deserve that for another second. You can have both,” her mom said decisively.
She could have both?
How could she have both?
“You love him.”
“I love him,” Lucy whispered.
“Go get him.”
Lucy whimpered as she looked into her mom’s eyes, but she only saw warmth and encouragement. Her mom was right. She loved Tyson. She loved Tyson and if seeing him again this Christmas had taught her anything, it was that she was stupid if she tried to deny how much she missed him. If she didn’t tell him now, when would she?
“He leaves today. I need to go now,” she said suddenly.
“Well damn, okay then. Put on a sweater and I’ll find your snow boots,” her mom grinned.
Lucy felt like she was in a haze as she walked as quickly down the street as was safe, heart pounding as she spotted Tyson loading bags into his grandpa’s car.
“Tyson!”
His head whipped around at her shout, eyes going wide as he saw her walking towards him. Tyson shuffled down the driveway, missing Jim’s fond smile as he himself went back into the house, and the moment that she was standing in front of him, Tyson cupped his hands over her elbows to steady her.
“What are you doing here?”
“I love you,” she breathed.
Tyson whimpered, but Lucy wasn’t discouraged, not when she saw the wonder that filled his expression.
“You love me?”
“I love you. I love you so much and I can’t stop thinking about everything you said the other night,” she blurted out.
“Luce, I’m sorry, I know I upset you but…”
“No, Tys, it’s okay,” Lucy said, shaking her head as she interrupted, “While I stand by what I said, that we made the right decision at the time, maybe we could make a different decision now?”
“What are you saying?”
She could understand his hesitation, really she could. It wasn’t as if she wasn’t coming out with this out of the blue, after five years of nothing at all. After five years of heartbreak and heartache. But her mom was right – she missed him so fiercely and she couldn’t bear the thought of him not knowing that.
“I want us to start over new. I never stopped loving you, not for one moment. We could have both. We could have our passions and our love, and I hate that it’s taken me this long to even consider that? I miss you and I love you and I know you’re heading to the airport to fly back to Raleigh, but tell me I’m not crazy for thinking we could do this?”
Tyson’s jaw dropped as he processed her long rant, and it was only his firm grip on her elbows that stopped her from giving up hope.
“That was a lot,” Tyson said.
She winced. “I know, but…”
“And you poured out a lot of emotion there,” he interrupted.
Lucy kept her mouth shut this time, as much as she wanted to beg him to say more.
“It’s been agony for five years, for so many reasons, but hearing you say that you love me and you want to give our relationship another shot? I just…”
Tyson trailed off, letting out a long breath.
“I understand if I’m too late,” she murmured.
But Tyson huffed out a laugh, raising one hand from her elbow to cup her face in a gentle motion that had her breath hitching in her throat.
“There is no world in which you’d be too late,” Tyson said softly.
“Really?”
“I love you too, Lucy. I never stopped either,” he murmured.
She couldn’t stop the incredulous laugh that tumbled from her lips, smiling back up at Tyson as he smiled at her.
“We’re really doing this?” she asked, giddy.
“Yeah, baby, we are. I don’t know how we’re going to do this, or what it’s going to look like, but we’re both adult enough to know how to put in more effort this time round right, yeah? I’ll fly home for the all-star break, and I’ll fly you out for spring break, and we’ll have video calls that neither of us are going to miss. And everything else. We’re going to make it work this time,” he said, tone serious but face grinning.
“And we’re going to communicate, yeah? When one of us is finding it hard? We’ll find little compromises, as we can’t do the big compromises. We’re worth it,” Lucy added, not caring that her cheeks were aching with her smile.
“Yeah, we are. I love you, so much Lucy,” Tyson grinned.
“I love you too.”
Tyson didn’t waste any time in leaning down to press his lips to hers, their last first kiss.
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lipshits-continuous · 21 days ago
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Relative de Rham Cohomology
One interesting thing from my dissertation was looking at relative de Rham cohomology and whether we get a long exact sequence like we do for singular (co)homology. The answer is we do and we'll go through the constuctions and results in this post!
This is covered briefly in Differential Forms in Algebraic Topology by Bott and Tu and in a bit more detail in Riemannian Geometry and Geometric Analysis (Second Edition) by Jost. However some details like the functoriality of the de Rham cohomology of a pair and the naturality of one of the homomorphisms in the long exact sequence aren't touched on. I filled in these details in my diss!
In what follows, I will be assuming you are comfortable with de Rham cohomology, the theory of smooth manifolds and a bit of homological algebra. I might make some posts in the future about these but in the meantime, I cannot recommend enough Introduction to Smooth Manifolds by Lee.
1. Pairs of Smooth Manifolds
In the more general setting of topological spaces, we say a pair of topological spaces (X,A) is a space X and a subset A⊆X equipped with the subspace topology. The key here is that the structure on A is inhereted from the structure on X. Since in general, subsets of a smooth manifolds are not smooth manifolds, we must be more careful about which subsets we choose. For what follows, we will consider a pair of smooth manifolds (M,S) to be a smooth manifold M and a smoothly embedded submanifold S⊆M. The notion of maps of pairs carries over with no issue since the restriction of a smooth map to a smoothly embedded submanifold is smooth. That is, a smooth map of pairs F:(M,S)->(N,T) is a smooth map F:M->N such that F(S)⊆T.
2. de Rham Cohomology of a Smooth Map
The motivation for relative (co)homology is to study how a subspace contributes to the (co)homology of the whole space. In a sense, it is the (co)homology of the space without the affect of the subspace. For singular homology, singular n-simplies of a subspace A⊆X are already also singular n-simplices of X and hence span a submodule of the nth singular chain module of X. So we may take the quotient Cₙ(X)/Cₙ(A) and produce a new chain complex. However, this approach doesn't quite work for de Rham cohomology since differential forms on an embedded submanifold S⊆M aren't automatically differential forms on M. If we wanted to take this approach, we would have to worry about methodically extending differential forms from a submanifold to the whole manifold. However that might get messy and perhaps might involve too much analysis. There is, however, a neat algebraic solution!
The idea is to somehow study differential forms on M whose restriction doesn't contribute to the cohomology on S. More specifically, we will construct the de Rham cohomology of a pair in such a way that cohomology classes are represented by closed forms on M whose restriction to S is exact. As in Bott-Tu, we can actually define a more general cochain complex given a smooth map F:N->M by noticing the restriction of a form to a submanifold is precisely the pullback of the pair by the inclusion. So more generally, we will define cohomology classes represented by differential forms on M whose pullback to N is exact.
Definition 2.1:
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Proposition 2.2:
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Definition 2.3:
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Remark 2.4:
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We now consider two obvious linear maps.
Proposition 2.5:
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This means that β is a cochain map and hence induces a well-defined map in cohomology. Whilst α is not quite a cochain map, it's easy to check that it induces a well-defined map in cohomology given by α*[θ]:=α[(θ)]. Combining these with the pullback of F:N->M, we get a long exact sequence!
Lemma 2.6:
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3. de Rham Cohomology of a Pair
Now that we have developed the more general case, we will bring our focus back to the de Rham cohomology of a pair of smooth manifolds. As alluded to in the previous section, we define the cohomology of a pair to be the cohomology of the inclusion map!
Definition 3.1:
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Just as smooth maps between smooth manifolds induce well-defined maps of their respective de Rham cohomology groups, smooth maps of pairs also induce well-defined maps of the respective relative de Rham cohomology groups! This results is the first of two that is completely my own. The key to the proof is the following commutative diagram:
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Lemma 3.2:
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We can now show that α* in Lemma 2.6 is a natural transformation, which is the second of my two results. This along with a quick argument to show that β* is induced by the inclusion M->(M,S) will actually show that de Rham cohomology satisfies the Exactness Axiom in the Eilenberg-Steenrod Axioms.
Proposition 3.3:
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You might wonder now whether we also have excision for de Rham cohomology and we do! The proof can be found in Jost's book!
If you have any questions, I'd love to chat about this (or anything else about my dissertation)!
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ohmyeyesmyeyes · 2 years ago
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with you - t. jost
tyson jost x f!reader
warnings: hospitals, swearing, fainting/dizziness/light-headedness, mentions of blood tests, medical inaccuracies, implant as a method of hormonal contraception, anxiety, pregnancy, implications of sex, mention of alcohol (lmk if there's more)
< a/n: this has an abrupt ending so i apologise in advance >
word count: 8.1k
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Your eyes were glued to the screen of your phone, watching Tyson’s contact photo wander to the parking lot of the golf club. Your foot was bouncing on the linoleum bed they’d put you on, arm laid flat against the surface, a cotton wool ball taped at the crease of your inner elbow.
The phone itself was leaning against your thighs, still clad in your sports leggings, and your free hand was anxiously pulling at your bottom lip.
The thumping in your chest was way too prominent to ignore, and you guessed it was the knowledge that you’d most definitely feel better if he was with you that had you pressing his contact number.
“Hey, sweetheart.” He picked up on the second ring, airy tone already suggesting he was smiling. 
Almost instantly the sound of his voice seemed to ease the knot in your chest, and you sighed into the phone, your bouncing foot stilling, “Hi,” you started, the words lined up in your brain and dancing on the end of your tongue, yet somehow still stuck behind the blockade of apprehension, “um–”
“Are you okay?” Tyson’s worried voice cut through your phone, somehow clearer than it had been ten seconds ago. 
You nodded to yourself, sucking in a deep breath and trying to prepare yourself for what you were about to tell him, but it didn’t seem to have the desired effect to the desired extent. Your chest was still heavy and your mind was racing, and you were vaguely aware of the fact that he’d cut his car engine because your silence was worrying him, “I’m fine,” it was a partial truth, “I just…Are you sitting down?”
It was his turn to hesitate, “Yeah.” Then, in a low voice, just a smidge harsher than a whisper, “Baby, you’re kind of scaring me right now.”
You blinked, “Don’t be scared, and definitely don’t freak out.”
“Now I’m scared and freaking out. What–”
“I’m fine, okay?” The more you repeated that, the less confident you felt in the weight of them, your certainty wavering by the second–
“You keep saying that, but you sound like you’re not.” His voice was soft, still most definitely concerned, but still displaying an insane amount of patience.
If the roles had been reversed (although, considering Tyson most definitely could not get pregnant, this situation was a little different), there was absolutely no way you would have been able to maintain that same level-headedness if he was on the phone sounding as completely out of it as you assumed you did.
You swallowed, feeling a multitude of emotions begin to simmer under your skin – so much so that trying to dissect and analyse each pound of your heart or tremble of your fingers was exhausting – and you could feel your previous shock-induced numbness begin to fade, “I need you to pick me up from the hospital–”
“Said no fine person ever!”
You ignored his rather panicked comment, instead soldiering through before you lost your nerve, “I’m not injured, nothing’s broken, nothing hurts, but I fainted out at tennis and Sabine drove me here. I can’t come home by myself for another two hours, but I want to come home now and the only way I can do that is if someone picks me up.” 
Silence.
You felt your eyes prickle slightly – you were so overwhelmed the lightheadedness felt like it could start to make a comeback, “Tys?” 
A dry sniffle sounded through the phone, and before his voice cut through to answer you, the sound of the engine spurred back to life, “Of course I’ll come and get you. I’m on my way, ‘kay? Just pulling out the lot right now, I’ll be about fifteen minutes.” 
“Okay.” You whispered, focusing your eyes on the ceiling and trying to get your breathing under control.
“How are you feeling now?” He asked gently, just the sound of his voice giving you something else to focus on besides the flickering lightbulb and the calling of other names from the waiting room outside.
“Better than I did earlier. They gave me something to eat so I don’t feel as weak, but the lightheadedness is kind of still kicking around. The dizziness has gone, but my arm’s a little sore from where they took my blood.” 
You could picture him behind the wheel of  his car, phone hooked up to the Bluetooth system, a crease between his brows and the telltale tilt of a frown playing at the corners of his mouth. He hadn’t shaved recently, a soft scruff coming in, and your hands tingled in remembrance. He’d be warm, too, a vast contrast to your current state. 
It wasn’t just the room you were in either, even despite wearing a hoodie, you were freezing. Your hands and feet were almost numb, and your skin was littered with goosebumps – it was the stress of the entire day manifesting into physical symptoms. 
“Bl..” He began, sentence trailing off, “Bloods – is it anything serious?” He rambled, voice straining slightly.
It was serious. Very serious – life changing, in fact. But not serious in the way he was insinuating.
So you lied; it wasn’t the sort of thing to tell over the phone, much less when he was driving, and if you were being honest, you wanted to keep the news to yourself a little while longer just to mull it over and let it sink in, “No, nothing serious,” there was a twinge of guilt that nested itself under your ribs, “They said it was caused by low blood pressure from my hormones.”
He made a noise of acknowledgement, not delving further into the reason as to why it was caused by your hormones – something you were grateful for – before continuing, “You didn’t hurt yourself when you fainted did you? Your head’s okay, right?”
Despite yourself, you cracked a small smile at his questions, “You should know.” It was a half-hearted attempt to try to reassure him, and judging from the short huff of laughter, it did so to an extent, “But no, I didn’t. I was literally warming up and then out of nowhere, I was just hit with this wave of dizziness. I thought it’d sort itself out when I sat out for a bit, but it got worse and the next thing I know I’m waking up to Sabine kneeling next to me saying I passed out.” You sighed again. Your brain hadn’t shut up since the whole incident had occurred, and, cautiously, almost curiously, you slid your sore arm under your jumper.
It felt weird, perhaps a little silly considering the fact that there was nothing to show for said pregnancy just yet, but as you gently skimmed a thumb over the skin, your nerves spun on their head a little. It was anticipation, with a peppering of excitement.
It had been a wedding that started everything; a friend of yours from high school was marrying their college sweetheart and you’d dragged Tyson along (freshly from your second year anniversary) with the intention of spending a few days away from the chaos of the NHL and the uncertainty surrounding his career. 
Amidst it all, you’d both somehow become the in-ceremony babysitters – unintentionally. It turned out Tyson seemed to be some kind of magnet for all things hockey related, including children and rogue pucks. So when a rubber disk was flicked too high and too wide, hitting someone in the middle of their back, he’d taken it upon himself to teach the ones playing on the grass (how they’d made playing hockey work on uncut grass you had no idea) how to properly control and flick the sticks with more precision, and, you wanting a break from the mini high school reunions, had followed him, taking a seat on the banking of the hill.
It was a good view, even more so when the sun had started to drop, casting an orangey glow from behind you. Tyson had been teaching about ten kids the ways of hockey for a while by that point, them completely enraptured by what he was saying. He’d let the bigger kids go off by themselves, and was crouching in front of a five year old girl, pigtails held up by pink ribbons, helping her when she couldn’t quite get the grip right on the stick. The boys had wandered off, leaving her by herself, even though you’d heard her shout after them, but Tyson had stayed.
He’d shed his blazer a while ago, and rolled his sleeves up to his elbows, and even though you knew how expensive his dress pants were he’d not even thought twice about kneeling on the dewy ground. Everything about the entire scene was endearing – in the way that had you falling in love with him even more. 
You barely held yourself back from dropping your head in your hands when the little girl had reached out to tug on one of his curls inquisitively, giggling when it bounced back immediately. And when he ducked and shook his head for her to see? 
You could have died happily.
But you, on the other hand, also had company of sorts. 
From where you’d initially sat down by yourself on the banking, a glass of Prosecco in your hand, a group of three girls had slowly migrated towards you, led by sheer curiosity. 
One looked around nine, wearing a deep purple tulle dress with butterflies embroidered along the bottom, and was holding hands with another little girl who could barely walk without assistance and looked half asleep. The third must have been about six or seven, trainers on her feet, with a green jumpsuit.
Green jumpsuit was Fiona, purple tulle was Iris and the toddler with ruddy cheeks and a pink pinafore dress was Eden. 
And two out of three of the girls had their eyes focused on your hands, where you’d been picking daisies and knotting them to form a chain.
It barely took five minutes, a reassurance from Iris that, yes, Eden’s parents are aware she’s taken her for a walk, and yes, they do trust her to look after her as long as she’s with Fiona, and within no time you’d found yourself showing the older girls how to make the daisy chains, and somehow, somewhere along the lines, Eden had slumped her head against your chest, legs kicked out around your waist, and was snoring gently on your collarbone. 
After that, it had been difficult to keep sneaking glances at Tyson due to your stolen attention, but that was your moment. It was the moment.
Watching the girls cheer in excitement and giggle and smile at each other and boast about their successful daisy chains, eventually showing them off to Tyson when the little girl he’d been teaching had joined the boys (she’d stunned them with her determined flicks into their makeshift net) and he’d climbed up the banking to sit with you.
It wasn’t his moment, that much you knew, but it certainly solidified what he’d already decided, and you could tell just in the way he’d taken a seat next to you, leaning back on his elbows with his legs stretched out down the hill. It was in the way he’d looked at you with the girls, with Eden, in the way his smile seemed to physically split his cheeks, in the way they seemed to turn a little bit pink when you raised a knowing eyebrow in his direction at his lack of subtlety. It was also in the way he’d leant himself towards you, hand tracing shapes on the red silk at your hips, before gently tracing the seams of Eden’s baby shoes.
Neither of you had actually brought up the unspoken yet entirely noticeable change until you’d both tucked yourself under the duvet in your hotel room.
“Are you still awake?” You whispered into the darkness, eyes trained to where you knew the ceiling to be.
You knew he wasn’t because he’d been pretty still – a stark contrast to his usual fidgeting and shuffling. Though, as soon as you’d spoken you could feel and hear the rustle of the duvet as he rolled onto his side, eyes burning into the side of your face from where you’d laid on your back.
“I can’t sleep.” He admitted, sighing through his nose, the action blowing strands of your own hair into your face.
You didn’t say anything for a moment, body still but mind loud. 
Then you flicked your bedside light on and rolled towards the middle of the bed, nearly nose to nose with Tyson, who, up close and personal, looked more awake than he definitely should have been considering the fact that it was getting on to half past one in the morning.
“Do you want to talk about it?” You whispered, watching his face closely.
Gentle brown eyes pierced your gaze, his lashes fluttering when he blinked, hair separated into curls after the late night shower, and something in his jaw ticked. It elicited your own motions, a tentative hand reaching up to brush your fingers over his chin, soft stubble greeting your touch. 
“Yeah.” He mumbled, nudging his chin further into the palm of your hand until you were cupping his cheek, thumb swiping lightly against his cheekbone, before retracting your hand and using it to tug the covers closer to your chin.
Even the broach of the topic on both your minds was enough to feel uncharacteristically shy in his presence. Strangely, it felt intimate, leaving you feeling somewhat vulnerable and sheepish.
“You first.” 
His face broke into a small smile at your comment, and you rolled your eyes at his teasing laughter.
“Okay,” he started, laughter dying out as a hint of seriousness bled into his tone, “I want kids. Plural. I mean, I think I’ve always known I wanted them, but now I’m at an age where it’s…I’m not a teenager anymore, I’m not immune to being broody. And I guess after today, seeing you with those girls got me thinking about us in the future, and I do want kids. With you.” He pursed his lips, looking at you with hopeful eyes, before nodding.
Your turn.
You swallowed, heart pounding a little at his admission, “I…” you sucked in a breath, nerves having skyrocketed completely, “I’d never really thought about having my own children before, I guess because I’d always just thought I’d be happy with my life with or without having them – like, I wouldn’t feel like something was missing if I never had kids, y’know?” 
He nodded, listening intently.
“That being said, recently – and not just today – I don’t know, I think you’ve changed my mind.”
He furrowed his brows, “Me?”
You nodded, “And your mom and sister. You come from such a loving family, and…” you sighed, frustrated, “I don’t know how to say it, but I think if I was with any other person, the idea of kids wouldn’t be so appealing, but because it’s you, having children half you and half me just seems like an absolute dream.” You took a breath, “And it’s not just because I kind of knew you already wanted kids even though you didn’t actually say it, but I came to that decision by myself.”
Tyson smiled properly this time, teeth and everything, with creases appearing on the corner of his eyes. You felt yourself furrow your brows, thoroughly confused with his blatant joy and lack of words, not entirely knowing what to do or what to say.
“Say something.” You urged, his warm palm landing on your back as he used the leverage to pull you closer, coaxing you to drape a leg across his hip as he breathed a laugh.
“Holy shit, you’re so in love with me it’s actually kind of embarrassing.” You could practically feel him roll his eyes as he moved onto his back, pulling you with him so he could wrap an arm around your shoulders and weave his hand in your hair, pulling it away from your face.
“Excuse m–”
“But that’s okay, y’know. I’m also embarrassingly in love with you too, so it’s not that bad.” He pressed a sweet kiss to your temple, but before he could continue you pushed yourself up onto your elbow, his arm dropping to our waist.
“That’s not the end of this conversatio–”
“Even more so now than, like, five minutes ago.” He interrupted, eyes focused on the ceiling with a dopey grin on his face.
You didn’t know if he was even aware of the fact you were talking, or if he was stuck in his own head, imagining your children–
“You mean when I told you that I wanted to have your babies and your babies only?” You teased, poking him in the cheek.
This time it was evident that he’d heard you because his eyes rolled into his head and he dragged both hands away from you and ran them down his face, groaning out loud. You laughed at his reaction, his hands tangling into his curls as though even the sight of you was too much for him at that moment, “My heart can’t take this,” he shook his head, “you’re killing me, woman. I honestly think I can’t love you more, and then you say shit like that and it just makes me want to propose on the spot.”
You felt your cheeks burn instantaneously at that confession, and you tilted your head, eyes wide, “It makes you want to what now?”
He blinked, “Um–”
“You can’t get shy on me now, Tys.”
“Like you haven’t been thinking about it either.” He said with full conviction as he too pushed himself onto his elbows, the both of you now essentially sat up in bed, covers pooling around your middle.
You shrugged coyly, “I–This has nothing to do with me, I was asking you.”
His eyes were wide, a smile on his face despite the disbelieving scoff that passed his lips, “I didn’t think it was a secret that I’m gonna marry you at some point in the future.”
You stuttered, mouth opening and shutting. He was right, it wasn’t exactly a secret as such, what with both your families and friends making jokes and whatnot, but…it was different hearing it come from his mouth. In confidence.
So, you switched it up a little, “Before or after children?”
He froze, this time it was his turn to stutter, “What?”
“Marriage. Before or after children?” 
He straightened, tilting his head with some amusement, “That depends on when you want to come off birth control, sweetheart.”
If you weren’t so suddenly awake, you’d have stalled at his words, at the sweet yet condescending way he used the term of endearment reserved only for you. But your brain was going a mile a minute, and you were way too fired up to even consider letting him leave you speechless. 
“We’re twenty-two, I don’t want kids yet for at least another couple of years. Twenty-five, maybe. It might change depending on whether or not you propose, though.”
The challenge was there, laid out in the open for him – you’d put the ball in his court pretty much. Whether or not you’d change your mind if he did propose was another thing altogether, but you had no preference.
“Change how?” He shot back.
“Guess you’ll have to wait and see, yeah?” You raised a brow.
He blinked, that irritating smirk still on his face. Your fingers itched to snatch the pillow next to you and whack him with it, but you refrained, waiting patiently for an answer.
“Yes, ma’am.” He muttered, sarcastically.
You rolled your eyes, throwing yourself back on the mattress with a dramatic flair. Tyson copied you, still using his elbow to hover over you with that grin still on his face, “Cheeky bastard.”
He winked, “Your cheeky bastard though. The cheeky bastard you want to have children with – wait, how many do you want?”
You inhaled, taking him in. He’d worn a soft black t-shirt to bed, one that, now as he hovered over you, just seemed to make him look so incredibly, deliciously broad. The kind of good-looking that had you debating whether or not to retract your previous statement of having your implant taken out in another three years. 
Though, with the one you’d just had put in, you’d be twenty-five when you’d have to replace it…you could just not. 
“Two to three.” You said, “One would be lonely, and four would be too much. Depends how the first one goes, too.”
He nodded, something on the tip of his tongue, but thought better of it, instead leaning down (thus, taking you by surprise given the previous nature of the conversation) and planting a slow kiss on your lips. He pulled away slightly, a smile on his face, his hair tickling your forehead, “You were so just checking me out, weren’t you?”
You shook your head, a hand on the back of his neck pulling him back into you to avoid answering the question.
He laughed, resting his forehead on yours for a moment before something seemed to occur to him, “Are you fussy about what we’d have?”
“No, I’d just like one of each at least. What about you?” You swiped his hair back, watching in delight when his curls flopped back over his forehead.
“Same as you.” 
Another kiss.
“You never said how many you wanted.” You pointed out, fingers once more grazing against his cheeks.
Maybe you’d underestimated the power of being broody, because after what you’d witnessed it was like a switch had been flicked in your brain because you could not stop touching him. 
He collapsed into his shoulder, forcing you to turn your head to keep your eyes on him, “Two or three. I think you’re right about the four kid thing, though. I couldn’t have imagined growing up with two more siblings on top of Kacey.”
“Even the thought of four kids is exhausting.” 
“Yeah.” 
“Speaking of exhaustion…” you muttered, stifling a yawn with the back of your hand.
Accomplished. That’s how you felt having that incredibly mature (it had its moments) and very adult conversation. 
You’d essentially just planned the next five years with the man next to you, and although the thought of having kids and everything that would entail — should it happen — was terrifying, it felt right.
You’d switched off the bedside lamp and rolled over towards the middle of the bed when something else occurred to you; a rogue idea you’d had once that had seemingly flashed back up once you’d shut your eyes, “When you grow a pair and propose, I’d like it if you wear a ring too. It doesn’t have to be anything fancy if you don’t want, maybe like one of those titanium ones.”
He shuffled, and you could hear the smirk in his voice as he looked back at you, “Possessive much?” 
You shrugged, “We’re engaged to each other, I don’t know why only women typically wear the rings…and there’s no harm in sending a hint.”
Tyson hummed, “Whatever you say.”
That entire conversation had been three years ago. You’d had your implant removed and not replaced around five months ago…and you’d not exactly been careful during sex because ‘it’ll happen when it happens’, only it happened. You’d talked about it happening early, enough to the point that you’d done your research and prepped everything in terms of checking finances, but it didn’t mean you weren’t…shocked.
There was just simply nothing that could prepare you for the actual moment.
Nor, it seemed, seeing Tyson after everything that had happened. You’d been holding everything in, the fear, the shock – not just of the pregnancy, but the whole fainting debacle, and getting a blood test and being seen to by multiple doctors all by yourself. Sabine had dropped you off and waited with you in the ER waiting area but that had been the extent of it; she’d had to go pick up her kids from her sister’s or something, and…something else you couldn’t quite remember.
But you’d heard him before you’d seen him, and then the door to your room was opening, a nurse walking through first and offering you a knowing smile before he’d all but barrelled through the doorway, somewhat frazzled. You’d been sitting with your legs slung off the side of the bed when you heard him ask for you at the desk, and almost instantaneously his eyes had zeroed in on the cotton wool ball now screwed up next to you.
“I’m fine–” The words died in your throat when he immediately wrapped you in a warm hug, moving to stand between your dangling legs with one arm wrapped around your waist, his left hand curled around the base of your neck and your face tucked into the curve of his neck.
The coolness of the ring on his hand soothed you somewhat, but as soon as the door shut and the nurse left, you lifted your arms to hug him across his back, sniffling wetly as the tears began to accumulate along your waterline.
“Hey, hey, shh, shh, it’s okay,” his hand rubbed up and down your back, and he pulled away slightly, running a thumb under your eyes to wipe the tears away before they could fall, “you’re okay–”
“I just–I’ve never fainted before,” you took a shaky breath, trying to compose yourself, eyes watery and blurring your view of him, “It just took me by surprise, and I don’t know…it was scary.” You let out a watery and rather self-deprecating laugh, taking a deep breath and running your hands over your face to remove the evidence of tears, bar red cheeks and puffy eyes.
Tyson said nothing, simply ran his hands over the tops of your thighs as he waited patiently for you to calm down. In all honesty, he’d never really seen you have an emotional outburst like that – no matter how short. Sure, he’d seen you cry; your childhood dog was put down in your first year together and he’d held you in Colorado, hundreds of miles away from your own home; he’d seen you cry for him (however much you tried to hide the few loose tears) when everything went down with Minnesota; he’d seen you cry over the ‘heartfelt, charming’ film you’d put on one day (‘Red Dog’, it was called) that destroyed both your souls; and he’d helped you through grief, from the days you’d need space to the days you’d just need him to sit with you.
But never in your entire relationship had he seen you cry from terror, let alone such a cathartic release of emotion. He’d heard your wobbly voice crack over the phone and done his best to try to take your mind off it, but he knew by the way you’d just barely held it together at the mere sight of him that there was something amiss. 
“I know it’s scary, sweetheart, when you told me, I was scared too. It’s a completely normal reaction, okay?” He was talking softly, neck bent slightly so he could look at you, and his fingers tenderly swiped some of your flyaways back from where they’d escaped from your updo.
You ached at his compassion, the gentle touches and sneaking glances at your arm, and at the thought of him looking after your baby like that almost sent you down another emotional spiral, but you straightened slightly, trying a small smile no matter how it wobbled.
“I’ve never cried like that before.” Was all you said, a watery laugh falling from your lips just as he nodded.
“I know.” He offered a small smile, “Bet it felt good, though.”
“Cathartic.” You agreed.
“Today’s been pretty hectic for you, huh?” 
Oh, he had no idea. 
This time you smiled properly, eyes and lashes still wet as he passed you a tissue from the box next to the bed, you dabbing under your eyes.
“Yeah.” You inhaled through your nose once more, expelling out of your mouth, “I’m so tired. When we get home can we camp out on the couch?”
He smiled, crinkles appearing at the corners of his eyes, “You’re insane if you think I’d let you do anything else after today.” You rolled your eyes at that, not having the heart to argue with him, “How’re you feeling now? Faint? Light-headed?” 
“No, I feel fine now. Do I look okay?” You scrunched up the tissue, throwing it in the bin, only to look back at Tyson, who was still standing between your legs and was arching a brow in your direction, his hands having moved from your body to come to rest on his own hips.
“You look stunning. You always do.” He deadpanned, thumbs caressing your cheeks before he leaned forward, you meeting him halfway in a delicate kiss.
“You have to say that.” 
“I don’t have to say anything. I could tell you look horrible, but then I’d be lying, and breaking our vows–”
“We’re not married.”
“Yet.”
“We’ve both got rings but nothing is actually official–”
“Let me have this one, please.”
“I just fainted, you let me have this one.” You complained, throwing your head back in his grip, hand instinctively going up to hold his wrist when he leaned in for another short kiss.
“Only because I love you.”
You rolled your eyes, “Fucking hell, you’re really gullible–”
“You just fainted, my so-called gullibility is reasonable.”
“Whatever. In all seriousness, though, does it look like I’ve been crying?” You pointed at your eyes, knowing they’d be red-rimmed and still a little watery after that, and he winced slightly.
“Yes.” 
You sighed, dropping your head, “You know what, I don’t even care anymore. I just want to go home.”
Tyson nodded, “Is everything sorted out with the doctors?”
“I have a follow-up appointment in a few days–”
“I thought it wasn’t serious?” His voice did that thing it did earlier, right after you’d told him you’d fainted. It went up, both in pitch and harshness, and there was a crease between his brows and a frown playing at his lips.
Said follow-up was actually a dating scan, your first ultrasound to make sure everything’s healthy and whatnot, but in the meantime you’d decided you wanted to tell him outside of a placeless hospital room surrounded by strangers.
Oddly enough it was Father’s Day in two days. Technically his first one, too.
You’d decided on his way to pick you up that that’s when you’d tell him, and you could keep a secret from him that long.
“It’s not serious, but because of the low blood pressure they just need to make sure it was a one-time thing.” You waved a hand, ignoring his gaze as you jumped off the bed, moving to pick up your backpack on the chair.
The handle of the tennis racket was poking out the top, taunting you (even despite the mess of emotion swimming around you right now, you were still kind of bummed you missed out on that), but before you could even bend down to pick it up, a very familiar hand reached out and snatched it up before  you, his black titanium ring glinting under the lights as he swung it over his shoulder.
“Can I come with you to that appointment?” He asked, holding his hand out for you to grab, innocently pretending to ignore the glare you were sending his way.
“Sure.” You nodded, feigning nonchalance, as though you hadn’t purposefully booked the appointment on the day you knew he didn’t have any plans.
***
Father’s Day, despite having only been two days away, came incredibly quickly. It felt like you’d barely blinked before you were sneaking out of bed in the morning to make Tyson some tea and breakfast.
You’d kept the breakfast simple, just a couple of slices of toast and jam, as well as some extras for you because you couldn’t risk him wandering downstairs and ruining his own surprise. The card you’d picked out with assistance from Kacey over FaceTime was in your bedside drawer, but it was the mug that was important, too.
Weirdly enough it was absolutely the right amount of subtle for a quiet announcement. It was a handmade mug, a dainty, cream thing with words pressed onto the inside base, so when he’d finish his tea the words ‘WE’RE PREGNANT!’ would be visible at the bottom. The plan was, you’d decided, to wait for him to nearly finish his tea, and then hand him the card, so that way the card thing would be fool-proof, but also partly because you were way too nervous to actually tell him yourself using actual words out of your own mouth.
You’d thought about what his reaction might be, but given the fact that he’d practically buzzed with eagerness after you’d asked him if it’d be okay with him if you didn’t get your implant replaced, and the fact that every time you went out for a foodshop he’d get lost and coincidentally be found in the baby clothes section, you’d say he’d probably have a pretty enthusiastic reaction.
Kacey had tried to bet $20 he’d cry, but given the fact that you also agreed with her, she’d dropped it completely.
You took a deep breath, straightening the plate on the tray to calm your nerves, your engagement ring getting caught in the light coming in from the window. It glittered, iridescent colours dancing against the cupboards, and it was at that moment that you realised you’d have to make adjustments to the wedding planning.
“Marriage. Before or after children?”
Looked like that one was still up in the air.
The quiet tiptoe up the stairs carrying a wobbling tray was one mean challenge and a half, especially considering the fact that you couldn’t see your feet and you were also trying to avoid any creaking floorboards.
You nudged the bedroom door open with your foot, peeking around the corner and cheering internally when you saw Tyson was still face down on his pillow, arms above his head, shoulders and back muscles prominent.
You paused, unable to help biting your lip at the view.
Fuck, you hoped your kids would have his hair.
You didn’t bother shutting the door behind you, making your way around to your side of the bed, the shadows from your figure blocking the light from the window causing Tyson to blink slowly at the interruption.
“Good morning.” You hummed, putting the tray on the floor and leaning across the mattress and gently pressing a kiss against his lips, quickly removing yourself before he had the chance to pull you any closer.
You heard a grunt of disapproval before he yawned audibly, arms stretching up from where you’d crouched on the floor to pick up his tea and toast.
“Morning.” He groaned, pushing himself to sit as you placed his toast on his bedside table and handed him his tea, his ring clinking against the porcelain.
Before you could walk back to your side, his free hand caught yours, gently tugging you towards him, a confused and bleary expression still on his face, “Did I forget something?”
You shook your head, kissing him once more when he puckered his lips in your direction, and he nodded, seemingly satisfied with your answer before taking a sip of his tea and twirling the lone diamond ring on your finger before letting you go.
From the way you could feel his eyes burning into you when you climbed back into bed, your own breakfast in your hands, you thought maybe he’d caught on to something. That maybe he’d figured something was up to warrant a rare ‘breakfast in bed’.
“I just woke up earlier than usual, couldn’t wait for you to wake up.” Was all you said, hoping it’d suffice for now.
He nodded again, this time taking a bite of his toast, “How come you woke up early?”
You shrugged, feigning nonchalance. You knew avoiding eye contact would be suspicious but if it was even more intense he’d definitely know something was up, “Just did.”
His chewing seemed to slow, and he furrowed his brows, “Are you feeling okay?”
You swallowed, anxiety levels slowly beginning to creep up, “Yeah, why?”
“You look flustered, is all.”
You pulled a face, “In what way?”
“I don’t know, you just—Are you not telling me something?” He was nervous now, his eyes wider than usual as he washed down his toast with a gulp of tea.
You held your breath as he did so, expecting him to look inside the mug but he stubbornly kept his eyes on you, assessing every square inch of your face like the apparent secret he was accusing you of was written there.
“Did you break something?” He brought the mug to rest on top of the covers on his lap, his spare hand playing apprehensively with his bottom lip.
You couldn’t help it when you laughed at him, “No.”
He still didn’t look convinced, and you found his confusion adorably endearing in that moment.
Until your phone dinged on your bedside table. Then, his expression narrowed, a hint of a smile curling at his mouth as you blatantly ignored it.
“Don’t you want to know who’s messaging you at nine on a Sunday morning?” He teased, placing his mug on his bedside table as he scooted further into the middle of the bed, purposefully crowding into your space.
You hid your face in your mug, tapping your fingers against the porcelain and attempting to hide the smile that had suddenly appeared on your face as he not-so-subtly manoeuvred his arm over your shoulder. There was a scuffle of fingertips against the surface of the table, and you saw him frown out of the corner of your eye, scruff just grazing your forehead as he looked over your head, successfully snatching up your phone.
He made no move to look at the home screen notification, instead just picking it up and planting it on your lap without a care.
You rolled your eyes, faking a dramatic sigh at his insisting, “I already know who’s texting me.”
At that he stalled, head tilting as he used the hand on your shoulder to tangle and play with your hair, “Who?”
You blinked, giving in and picking up your phone, ignoring his watchful eyes, “Kacey.”
“Kacey?” He echoed, “My Kacey?”
“Yeah.” You placed your mug and plate on the table, giving your phone your full attention.
“Why is Kacey texting you?” He rested his chin on your shoulder, breath fanning softly across your neck in a huff as you switched your phone off, not allowing him to read the messages, which – even taken out of context – were rather incriminating.
“Because we’re friends.” You shut your eyes to avoid being poked in the face by your own hair as he purposefully raked it over your face as he removed his hand from your shoulder.
“Obviously,” he drawled, rolling his eyes, “But you’re being weird.”
You sighed, throwing your phone to the end of the bed and giving him your full attention. 
He’d caught on already, before either of you had even finished breakfast. It was earlier than you’d initially planned for, but with the kicked puppy/borderline worried expression on his face as he fiddled with his ring and waited for you to ease his mind, you felt yourself soften. 
“Is it about the hospital thing?” He murmured, pursing his lips as though to brace himself for something bad.
His head was hung, but he was still looking at you, “Yes.” You held his hand, stopping the alarmed expression that had instantly taken hold of him, “But it’s nothing bad, I swear. I’m gonna get you something, but can you drink some more tea?”
You neglected to throw him a reassuring look, too focused on the task at hand, but bargained on the fact that he’d drink the tea like before: his eyes carefully trained on you as he took a few gulps to ease his nerves.
Your fingers caught the edge of the card, pulling it out of the drawer and slamming it shut to turn and face a severely anxious Tyson. His jaw was clenched and his fingers were tapping on the mug you’d given him.
When you produced the envelope, however, the tension in his jaw seemed to slacken, the unease melting into uncertainty – it only seemed to magnify when you, with shaking hands, passed it to him. 
He swallowed, the curve of his neck bobbing slightly, “It’s got my name on it.”
Your lip caught between your teeth for a moment (you absolutely tried to quell the rising agitation within yourself watching him, but it was partly a losing game), other hand offering to take the tea from his hand. 
He took the card from you gently, gladly letting you take his almost empty mug (you drank the rest of it, able to see the writing at the bottom), and held your breath in anticipation.
He untucked the lip of the envelope, gently sliding the card out. 
You’d put it backwards, the front design hidden from his eyes unless he turned it over, and waited. Your eyes briefly flickered to his shirtless chest. He was breathing a little heavier than usual, predictably from the nerves because you’d left him in the dark about something important, and you knew if you placed your palm over his chest his heart would be hammering.
He went to turn the card over, but stopped, his brown eyes flickering to you, “Why am I scared?”
You smiled, patience wearing thin, “Just turn it over.”
He inhaled deeply, flicking the card over.
He blinked.
The card you’d picked was pretty simple – on the front there was one acronym: DILF. It wasn’t in large letters either, about 96% of the entire front was blank, and there was a single full stop at the end. 
The message was pretty clear, you thought, but after about ten seconds of Tyson’s silence, his mouth repeating the word over and over, a slight crease on his forehead, perhaps from either denial or confusion, you’d concluded that he wasn’t completely grasping the message.
You remained quiet, heart hammering almost painfully against your ribs.
“DILF.” He muttered, opening the card, mouth parting in shock at the slip of paper that fell out onto his lap.
He made a move to pick up the paper, sending you a glance that had you thinking maybe he’d got a brief idea of what you were intending, but not let himself get too hopeful until he was properly sure.
Sure as if it came from your mouth, or sure as in a copy of your blood test results from two days ago in his hand with the words ‘pregnant’ scribbled on the receipt in your handwriting.
He froze, tensing on the bed. He seemed to blink a few times, before inhaling sharply, arms lip at his side and head swung in your direction, “I’m pregnant?” He breathed shakily, and you bit back a soft smile at the tears already glistening on his lash line and a slight quiver in his chin.
And at his muddled words you breathed a laugh, but before you could even move to confirm his accusation, he was shaking his head, “I mean, y…you’re pregnant?” 
You felt your own eyes prick, “Yeah.” You sniffled, curling into the pillow under your head from where you’d sunk back under the duvet when you’d given him the card. 
You showed him the mug, and like a snapped elastic band, as soon as he read the words imprinted there, dropped the receipt onto his lap and covered his face with his hands, shoulders shaking. Your reaction was delayed in itself – you’d expected him to be a little emotional given how excited he’d been at the mere thought of being a dad, but not to the uncontrollable sobbing extent.
After you put the mug back down on the side of the bed, you wasted no time in positioning yourself on his lap, gently taking a hold of his wrists and pulling them away from his face. His eyes were rimmed red and a little puffy, cheeks wet with tears, but he wasn’t frowning. There was a wobbly smile on his face that seemed to twitch every now and again and when you wiped his cheeks dry, unable to suppress your own grin, he seemed to calm down.
He wasn’t hiccupping anymore, but his breathing was a little heavy and his cheeks rosy.
“I’m glad I didn’t tell you when you were standing up.” You teased, brushing his hair back with your hand.
“Me too.” He sniffled, looking up at you through damp lashes and a watery gaze.
“Are you okay?”
“I should be asking you that.” 
You tilted your head adoringly, “I’m not the one currently crying.”
He nodded, agreeing, “We’re really lucky. Some people wait years to get here, or for some people it just doesn’t happen, and I’m just so grateful, I…” he trailed off, eyes looking straight up at the ceiling to blink away a fresh bout of tears.
“It’s okay to cry.” You mumbled, sliding your arms around his shoulders, pulling him in for a tight hug as he sniffled again, his hands on your lower back, pressing you into him as close as he could. His uneven breaths tickled your neck, and one of your arms draped across his back, tracing lines against his skin in the soothing manner he likes.
After a couple of minutes, breathing back to normal and tears at bay, he pulled back, a question on his lips as, once more, you wiped away his tears, “When did you find out?”
You were so fucking in love with this man. Gone. Ruined. Whatever. 
Before you could even consider answering, he pushed himself further down the headboard, taking you with him as he placed his head on his pillow, pulling the duvet over your bodies and enveloping you both in a cocoon of warmth entirely too hot for mid-June.
“It was actually when I was in the hospital the other day. The hormones changes from the pregnancy made me faint, but it wasn’t until the bloodwork came back that I found out.”  He nodded, rolling you onto your side to look at you easier. His hand came up to the joint of your hip, rubbing back and forth as he listened intently.
“What was your reaction?” 
“I didn’t really have one until I saw you walk in to pick me up.” 
His brows quirked up at that, mouth curling into a smug smile, “That’s pretty romantic.”
You rolled your eyes, “You were fine with this,” you motioned between you both, “until you looked at me, and then you also cried – twice – so you can’t even think about–”
He silenced you with a sweet kiss, scruff tickling your chin, “I love you so much.”
“I know.” 
He rolled his eyes, “Can the fainting thing happen again, or was it just a one time thing?”
You shrugged, as much as you could given the close quarters you were both in, “Guess we’ll have to ask them tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow?” 
“The ‘follow-up appointment’ is actually a dating scan to see how far along we are.”
At this he breathed a laugh, “We have too much sex–”
“No such thing.” You denied, shaking your head vehemently, “It’s not my fault you look so gorgeous all the damn time–”
“Baby,” he groaned, it melting into a soft laugh, “you should look in the fucking mirror–”
“This flirting is exactly why we’re in this situation in the first place.”
“I can’t help it though.” 
You briefly turned around, fingers finding your phone by the side of your bed, “You’re gonna have to because you need to call Kacey and tell her you blubbered like a fucking baby–”
“Hey–”
“She wanted to put $20 on it–”
“You bet on me crying?”
“No, she wanted to but…” you winced, “I agreed, so.”
“You’re supposed to side with me–”
“I’m making you a Dad, just remember that.”
He blinked, pursing his lips to prevent himself from laughing at your deadpan tone. You were both joking, but at your last comment, a silence seemed to stretch between you, both of you really absorbing the truth to your words.
Tyson’s eyes seemed to soften, looking at you like a man most definitely in love, and he made a noise that seemed to come from the back of his throat, “We’re gonna be parents.” He grinned, almost wistfully, “I…”
“I know.” You passed him the phone, Kacey’s contact already lined up for him, “It doesn’t feel real.”
He shook his head, kissing you once more and taking the phone out of your hand.
It barely took five seconds before Kacey’s excited voice burst through the phone.
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onlyherefortyson · 10 months ago
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brb moving to Raleigh❤️
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penaltybox-gossip · 2 months ago
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Who is Ryleigh white dating?
I’m gonna need you guys to start reading the wag lists plus I answered this under her tag
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divinelolita · 2 years ago
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Hey omg ive been reading your storys and i cant stop ther all so good omg anyway can you make a fic with male reader x tom and bill. Basically we are bill and toms celebrity crush evry scene they were little like 2005 and like in 2006/2007
And like we reach out to them and ask if they wanna make a collaboration (like a song together) and every one from tokio hotel is excited to be working with us but tom and bill are like freaking out wean they see us infrot of them
KAULITZ TWINS X MALE READER
hii bae! I loved this request <3 I went off track near the end so pls forgive me 😋
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For as long as Tom and Bill could remember, they had always liked M/N. I mean, who wouldn't? He was funny, handsome, and kind. At first they thought it was just admiration, but they found out that they had a true crush on this celebrity. The twins found this a bit strange though, as they almost never liked the same person at the same time. The two of them just couldn't stop loving M/N though, as much as they tried to. 
Georg and Gustav would sometimes tease the brothers about this, though. And today just so happend to be one of those days.
 "Seriously though, who's gonna walk down the isle with the dress?" Georg teased as he tossed a cracker into his mouth, Gustav giggling beside him. Bill just rolled his eyes and ignored the two as he sipped his coke. "Bill definitely has the legs for it." Gustav muttered, making Tom snort and Bill throw his can of soda at the blonde. Gustav yelped, flinching as the can missed him by a centimeter. "Oh,fuck you!" Bill sneered, although his cheeks flushed red. 
The tour bus door opened as Jost walked it. Everybody quickly fixed their posture and stopped goofing off, although they felt less tense as they saw Jost smile. "Well kids," he began, making Georg scoff before clearing his throat as Tom shot him a piercing look. Hey it wasn't his fault- Georg was 19, he wasn't a kid anymore! "Good news. We have just recently gotten a collaboration request from somebody. I'm sure you guys will be excited when-" Jost was cut off by Tom, who excitedly exclaimed "Avril?!". Gustav chortled quietly, his smiling dropping as quick as it appeared when he received a stern look from Jost. Bill gave a little smile to Jost, excited to see who he would make music with. 
"... No. I was going to say the collab was 'gonna be with M/N." The twins smiles fell quickly, a look of disbelief and excited in their eyes. "I...M/N? Like.. M/N L/N?" Bill coughed. All it took was a nod from Jost and the tour bus went wild. Georg whooped out loud, Gustav started to laugh, and the twins talked non stop. "Really?!" "We're gonna work with M/N?" "AHHHHHHH I CAN'T WAIT!" Bill and Tom squealed like little girls seeing puppies. Jost shushed them, the tour bus going silent apart from the little giggles from all members. 
"Hush, you sound like toddlers." Jost scolded, but he was smiling brightly himself. "But yes, we will be working with him." Georg quirked an eyebrow, looking at Jost expectantly. "Is he coming to our studio or..?" he questioned, glancing at Gustav to see if he knew. "Don't look at me you dumbass." Gustav muttered, rolling his eyes. "Yes. He should be at our studio.. in two days." When Jost said that Tom let out a small gasp. "T-two days? Really?" 
"Mmmhhmm." Jost concluded. "Now, M/N wanted to see if you guys wanted to......" 
-TWO DAYS LATER 😱😱-
Bil groaned as he looked in the mirror. Although he wasnt going out to brunch or photoshoots he had still did his makeup, yet he was too lazy to do his hair so it layed over his shoulders. Tom came in behind him, pushing him lightly to the side so he could get his toothbrush to brush his teeth. "Tom.. Are you nervous?" Bill asked, sitting on the closed toilet seat. Tom took a second before responding, brushing his teeth fast before he spat into the sink, washing out his mouth. 
"I'm always nervous before studio days, Billy. " He responded, going to wash his face with the soap. Bill groaned, throwing his head back dramatically. "Nooo Tom.. I meant about M/N being here." Bill pouted, elbows resting on his kneecaps as he rested his chin upon his hands. Tom shrugged, leaning against the wall. "Ehhh I guess so. But I'm not too worried, you?" Tom asked, adjusting his baggy shirt. Bill bit his lip," Aggh, I don't know! I think I am but I just-" Bill began, but he was cut off as Gustav banged on the door.       " Hurry the fuck up I gotta piss dude! ". Tom giggled as he opened the door, letting Bill out before himself. He gave his little brother a small smile. "C'mon, Bill. Don't worry about it. Everything will be okay." Bill softly smiled back. "Yeah.. Yeah." Bill nodded, "I'm okay." 
-at the studio-
Bill paced back and forth, humming Monsoon under his breath. Georg was adjusting his bass as Gustav played a few beats on his drums. Tom has his headphones plugged into his phone, listening to God knows what. It was mostly silent until they heard a few knocks on the door, Jost going to open it with a smile on his face. When he opened it, it was indeed M/N in all his glory. He smiled at Jost before smiling at all the band members, putting his coat on the cost rack in the corner. Georg smiled and introduced himself, going to shake M/N's hand as Gustav greeted him. Bill felt his legs to wobbly and Tom felt like he didn't have any more air in him. 
Bill had paused his pacing next to Tom, as Tom grabbed onto Bills elbow lightly. Bill smiled at Tom, excitement pulsing in his veins. He didn't even realise M/N was behind him. "Hey, Bill and Tom! What's up?" he greeted politely, holding out his hand. Bill turned around, his face red. He started at M/N for a second before he put a smile on his face and shook M/N's hand, his hand feeling limp as M/N held a firm grip. "Ah! It's so nice to finally meet you." Bill said with what he hoped was confidence. The (color) haired boy then turned to Tom and held his hand out, Tom gulping before taking it and smiling up at him." Hey, M/N..!" he greeted, his tounge playing with his lip ring. He shuddered slightly when M/N winked at him before retracting his hand. 
When they all decided it was time to discuss ideas, the G's came over and sat to the right of Tom. M/N took a seat between the twins, making them both blush and get flustered. M/N began to speak.  "Ah okay, well I was thinking about doing this because....." 
(you can like make up a song the made cuz I'm not writing allat 🙏🙏😍)
"Wow.." Tom said as M/N came to a conclusion. He really did like M/N's ideas as did the rest of the band. Gustav and Georg had even added a few of their ideas, which went with the theme of the song perfectly. M/N began to speak about different intros they could start with, but Bill lost track as M/N's hand brushed against his own. He felt like he had been electrocuted but..in a good way? He wanted it to happen again and again. He felt himself shuffle slightly closer to M/N, trying to disguise it under wanted to hear M/N more clearly. He nearly died when M/N smirked at him and asked his own opinion about the song. 
"I uh.. I think it sounds great so far! Really, it's perfect." Bill babbled, feeling himself grow more red. The two G's giggled under their breath. "I'm glad you think so!" M/N smiled at him. 
When everybody got set up, they began the rough draft. It actually turned out good, but redoing the song 3 times in a row definitely burned it into Tom's mind. Tom groaned after the 4th time, cracking his neck as he rubbed it. "Awhh, fuck man. My neck is killing me." Georg rolled his eyes, knowing that he too was bent over his guitar and he didn't feel any pain. M/N glanced over at Tom, laughing softly to himself as he reached over and began to dig into his shoulders and neck. Even though it would have hurt Tom normally, he felt himself lean into the touch as he flushed pink. 
He forced himself to hold back a small whimper when M/N hit a particularly sensitive spot, biting his bottom lip preventing himself from making noise. He blushed harder as he heard M/N chuckle as he looked at the dreadhead. 
-Later in the break room-
They all sat on couches in the break room, Bill smoking a cig as he was seated next to M/N, Tom on Bills  left. The G's sat infront of them, holding back laughs as he saw how jittery the twins were. Georg finished his water, going to get up to throw it out and get another. Gustav followed, giggling as he whispered something to Georg that made him snort and nearly choke on his own spit. 
So it was just the twins and M/N, yay! Bill continued smoking his cigarette as he leaned onchis brother, Tom humming the best of their new song lowly as he shook his leg. M/N looked between the two of them, smirking slightly. "So.. Y'all trying to grab lunch?" M/N asked, looking at the two of them. He noted how they both went flushed and hesitated before agreeing "Yeah!"they said in union, smiling softly at the celebrity. 
They landed at some Italian restaurant, ordering a pizza. (if u don't like pizza sorry 😴) M/N took a bitevas he realised that the twins would glance at him every few seconds, taking bites of their own food. "Mmhh? Is there something on my face..?" M/N jokingly said, holding back a giggle as he watched how surprised and flustered the boys looked. The two apologized as they blushed, looking down at their food. "Y'know, you guys are pretty bad at masking your feelings."
Tom nearly spat out his water as Bill looked at M/N with a scared expression.  "I-..what do you mean?" Bill started as he stuttered, Tom being quiet trying to recover from choking. M/N shrugged, taking a sip of his water. "I mean, I can tell you guys like me." M/N nearly laughed as he watched Tom's jaw drop and Bill blink rapidly. He spoke again before the twins could get a chance. "Really though, I don't care. You guys are cute anyways." He continued, taking another bite of his pizza as he grabbed another slice "Cute?" Tom repeated, smiling slightly. 
M/N chuckled to himself "Ehhh.. Ive liked you guys since.. He looked up as he pondered." 2006..?" ( it can be like 2007-2008 👍) Bill cocked his head to the side "You've liked us.. Both?" he muttered, feeling his palms get sweaty. "Yeah. I mean, who wouldn't?" It was really shocking Tom that M/N could speak like this with confidence, not being nervous about his feelings. "So... Now what?" Tom asked, spinning his ring on his finger. M/N raised an eyebrow, smirking. "Hmm, I dunno. I mean, you like me and I like you both.." Bills mouth opened and closed a few times before speaking. 
"Do you have to like,.. Pick?" He began, looking worried as he glanced at Tom. "I don't care if you and Tom date." Tom shook his head, about to say that M/N and Bill could date, before M/N spoke with a calm and easy tone. "It's easy. I date you both." Tom blinked s few times as Bill looked at M/N with curiosity. "... You can do that..?" he asked silently, biting his lip. Tom followed up, "What about like..jealously and that shit?" 
M/N smiled softly at both of them, wiping his mouth with a napkin. "I mean obviously we'd talk about boundaries and jealously and communication." Bill nodded slightly, looking over at Tom. "I'm okay if your okay with it." Bill said, patting Tom's shoulder gently. Tom seemed to think about it for a few more seconds before he glanced at his brother and then at you, smiling. "I'm fine with it." 
"How much you wanna bet Bill will go down the isle in the dress?" They heard muttered behind them. Bills face scrunched as he turned, revealing the G's giggling. 
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green-cyber · 1 year ago
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Paralyze me [Joost💙x Käärijä💚mini fic, but it’s sleep paralysis, mild NSFW] - Part I
2:14 am, August 5th, 2020
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Joost felt it right away. The icy grip on his ankle. His body suddenly unable to move. He screamed, deafening silence hitting his senses in response. And all he heard was a hiss. He didn’t see it. The hand that violently grabbed his throat, fingers squeezing deliberately. Strong. He knew this one – a man in a dark grey suit and an old-fashioned hat. No eyes. No features. To be fair, he knew all of his torturers, and this one freaked the sh*t out of him the most.
[…this is not real… this is not real.. this is…]
On his back. Eyes wide open. He couldn’t even close them. Joost felt hot tears dripping down his cheeks. He knew how this would end. Till his last breath. The demonic laughter. Till his neck snaps.
[stop… please stop…]
He’s been through this so many times. So much so that when he sensed a new presence, for a short second in there, curiosity took over his dread. The pressure on his neck loosened. His room suddenly embedded in a greenish mist. […smells so good…] something exotic. A mix of pineapple and...
In his altered state of mind, consciousness sluggish, Joost couldn’t really tell what was happening. The new demon growled. Sounded more like a command and Joost could breathe again. Did he?... did he just chase away the hat-man?.. the thought fluttered in his mind failing to make any sense and Joost tried to move only to hear a playful giggle. It wasn’t menacing. Not at all. Just a little…
Jost gasped when a soft small hand with pointy nails caressed his inner thigh. [Holy sh*t!!..] his face suddenly burning, heat pooling in his lower belly as the fingers worked their way up towards his… and… and… f*ck… if there had been any coherent thought in his fuzzy mind, it had definitely evaporated now. Still unable to move, Joost gasped for air. Now for a totally different reason. Warm fingers found their way inside his boxers and Joost whimpered, heart pounding in his throat. Desperate to move. Desperate to feel. This was so REAL. The demon chuckled. And he was sure the demon must have lost his focus for a second in there or something. ‘Cause otherwise why would Joost be able to lift his head just a tiny bit? That’s when he saw him. Sharp canines. Pointy ears. Small body. Spikes? Joost wasn’t sure. The demon instantly sensed him looking and the last thing Joost noticed were his eyes. Blue. And demonically gorgeous. He’s never seen anyone with eyes like that. The creature looked at him. Pissed now.
[Herää!!]
Joost jumped, suddenly wide awake. Bed drenched in sweat. His weird delusion quickly dissipating into nothing.
[F*ck… I’m so f*cking dumb…]
First time ever in his life Joost regretted waking up from his sleep paralysis. With a boner. An impressive one that needed to be taken care of. Like asap.
~End of Part I~
Author's note: I guess I've been infected, sigh. I have jeest now. Stay away or join in the fun😂
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log-poke-blog · 6 days ago
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fuck. i ffeel really horrible rn. hve a headache and soft-svere is on my head now.
ghhbgnf idk i jjsut. idk why im even makibg this post. i shouldnt be this upst over rotobmlr.
just like. one signular week wherer everything i jormal for em and my friends. like jost one. would be greag. things keep fukving happenig im really fuckin t ired of it. at least oleane i bck and okay but i just. it d be nice igf myf riends could have like a couple back to bafk norml days. please.
and i wihs those fucking anons owould leaev me alone.
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