#was to lazy to go back and record again
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faremises · 3 months ago
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FINAL FANTASY VII: REBIRTH (2024) dev. Square Enix
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todayisafridaynight · 1 year ago
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journalists underestimate the magnitude of my addiction and how far i'll go for the bit
#snap chats#im lying i physically could not marathon this i got school LMAO BUT IMAGINE#my god speaking of school i signed up for a japanese history class. because of course i did#i also needed an extra class and i didnt know what else to put LMAO but i might swap it or somn#thinkin i should get back into theater..... i got like two months to decide anyway#i was thinking about how im gonna play IW during streams... if the lord will let me i might stream for 2~3 hours or so#im putting such a small time limit due to Aforementioned School but also idk if my computer can record any longer than that#when i tried saving the video to my flashdrive it only lasted about two some hours right ? maybe 3 if i remember right#i decided to record to my computer's hard drive instead of the usb since it has more space so maybe i can record longer#ill prob do a test run later today and record a nonsense video. i WILL delete it i just wanna see what the limit is#cause my plan is to just Record One -> Upload It -> Delete OG yk. Lazy Susan type of plan#didnt mean to type out my whole gameplan in the tags LOL BUT HEY I WANTED TO TALK BOUT IT AT SOME POINT#my final message is that ive Hopefully preordered the ichi statue. i say Hopefully cause i am once again doing it through jp rabbit#and i didnt get the confirmation it was successful yet so I Will Simply Wait.#point is it was a lot cheapter than i thought it was going to be <3 yay <3#ok im running out of tags tl;dr im gonna marathon IW until my eyes bleed BYYYE
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hp-lonesome-actual-art · 1 month ago
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Eugh ignore these—doodled it lazily late at night and passed out afterwards, hence the really terrible quality. Doesn’t help that these papers are not graphite friendly and decide to smear every time I wanna erase. Honestly I should’ve seen it coming given how the sketchbook is advertised for markers, but I wouldn’t have expected it to be THAT picky with pencil. Oh well. I dunno enjoy whatever this is if you can even manage to follow along. No I will not rewrite it in a more concise way sorry lol
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isalabells · 2 years ago
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Bob: Lars Holmquist ist der junge Schwede aus Texas, hoffnungsvoller Erbe der Magnuswerke.
„Ein junger Schwede aus Texas“. Ich glaub, so hieß ’mal  ’ne ZDF-Serie.  — Bastian Pastewka, Der Bobcast und die silberne Spinne
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steelycunt · 1 year ago
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the magnanimous way i describe my plan to deign to attend the first week of my nine am lecture this monday before i skip all subsequent weeks to watch the lectures online instead. as if it were an act of charity as if im about to be canonized as if im doing my professors a favour. yes i could do with facing some consequences i fear
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tittyinfinity · 1 year ago
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Depression/PTSD recovery is wild because you could be doing greater than you've ever been in your life but then one small thing happens that reminds you of "that time" and suddenly all of the past emotions flood back into you and you feel like you're back to being the kid who's crying and shaking in the corner wondering if the people closest to you would be so much happier without you
#im being accused of faking my disabilities again and having them used against me#my mom hasnt talked to me for 2 days because of a shower chair being in the wrong spot#and said i use my adhd as an excuse to be stupid#and then i conftonted my partner about how he broke his promise to call me 3 days in a row#and he was drunk and saying things about how i cant understand how exhausted he is working 12 hr days (valid)#but then started calling me privileged for ''being able to sit at home all day and do nothing''#(he knows that im only stuck in bed on my bad days and that i definitely do not do ''nothing'')#so i asked him to call me back the next day(sunday) when he was sober. he never called me so i had to call him. he was drunk#so i got mad that he couldn't even stay sober for a COUPLE OF HOURS to talk to me#when hes sober hes super understanding and will take my feelings into consideration immediately#but he kept taking me confronting him as an insult and started calling me names like lazy and a crybaby#and this is the person who has always treated me perfect otherwise and does everything he can to make me feel better#and his personality COMPLETELY SWITCHED and he sounded exactly like my abusive exes#i sent him recordings of the call and he sent me 2 messages saying hes sorrh and hes gonna work on his drinking and was gonna call yesterday#then i didnt hear from him again and while he was ignoring my calls he made a post on fb (that he never uses) that he wasn't going to be#talking to anyone for a while because im the only person who cares about him#and i commented and was like hello??? im that one person and you're actively ignoring me?? and he deleted the post????#he didnt even send a message saying he wouldnt be able to call me#he never answered but when i called him today while he was at work he just responded ''cant talk im at work'' and i was like yeah ik but#im trying to get your attention because you wont tell me whats going on#and begged him to call me after work#hes acting like a completely different person now and i have a strong feeling that it's because at the place he works at in texas#they're made to work all day in a 110° warehouse#and with his insomnia and having to be at work between 3-5am he's barely sleeping while doing all of this#so im hoping his behavior is just a symptom of heat exhaustion and lack of sleep#because this isnt like him at all#im begging and begging for his attention and affection the same way i did with my abusive exes and my mom#i dont know what's going on
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eleu22 · 2 months ago
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What Task Force 141’s Houses Would Look Like
John Price
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- he lives in a cabin I cannot be convinced otherwise.
- very rustic, defo goes fishing or hunting for fun in his spare time
- likes to be away from the city
- its maximalist in kind of an organised chaos way he can find whatever he need’s immediately but to anyone else it looks kind of insane
- he’d be cleaner if he lived with someone - but yaknow #singledad
- very homey, warm vibes
- if the apocalypse ever hit you’d wanna be here, it’s decked out, secluded, he’s a bit of a doomsday prepper
- has once pissed outside to ‘mark his territory’ but you couldn’t torture that information out of him
- defo has that one room that is mysteriously locked and refuses to elaborate on when asked about it (Gaz secretly thinks it’s really cool) (it probably just has his fishing gear)
Kyle “Gaz” Garrick
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- very chic, cool tones
- screams “I did economy as an A-Level but I use pinterest”
- probably has had some type of dinner party with the 141 just to subtly flex to them that “in another life I was an interior designer”
- also defo cooks something with wine just, again to subtly flex his culture capital (he just wants some approval guys bless him)
- plant father - cannot be convinced otherwise
- very organised, keeps it pretty clean unless he’s feeling lazy which isn’t very often
- definitely has a record player - do not mention it or he will go on about how it “just sounds better” (with Price in the background nodding in agreement - but in an old man way)
- somewhere has a box of stuff that doesn’t fit his aesthetic but it’s shit he needs to keep anyways
John “Soap Mactavish
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- messy as fuck, no rhyme or reason to it he just puts stuff down, forgets its there and thats just where it lives now COUGH man-child COUGH
- puts some of his drawings up on his walls
- defo has a comic book collection and some action figures
- bunch of childhood shit he refuses to throw away - criminal hoarder
- he likes the messy kind of boyish charm it has, every time his mom comes over she scolds him for it
- a bunch of stuff he’s collected from different places he’s gone, he’ll usually grab some stuff while on deployment if he has any free time, like snow globes or whatever
- went to Greece once and got one of those wooden dicks and finds it so funny, he says it’s the living room’s ‘conversation piece’
- he’s pretty clean when on base aswell, it’s just without the millitary’s structure or someone literally forcing him to clean up he doesn’t really care - it’s his house anyways
Simon “Ghost” Riley
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- um
- yikes
- yeah you can tell he doesn’t really like spending time at home on leave
- the singular chair infront of the tv is so sad
- king of minimalism - if that’s what you wanna call it ig
- doesn’t bother decorating or getting anything past the bare essentials because what’s the point?
- doesn’t care it’s a shithole, he can afford a better house, but it kind of reminds him of home back in Manchester (crying)
- definitely chain smokes in his bathroom
- he’s got a treadmill there somewhere
- has a box full of his family’s belongings under his bed (crying again)
- no mirrors, only a small one in the bathroom to shave
- only item of decoration is a snow globe Soap gave him once, it sits next to his bed
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chsvok · 30 days ago
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NEWLYWEDS
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pairing. bakugo x fem! reader
fluff, married life ig, i headcanon bakugo as a snorer, crack.
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Being married to Katsuki Bakugo was no different than dating him, truly, only the title changed.
You’d still bicker over the silliest and smallest things.
Like right now, for example.
Katsuki was asleep next to you. His hands were wrapped snuggly around your waist as you watched your favorite movie before dozing off to sleep.
You tried to ignore it, you really did. But you couldn’t take it anymore.
You sighed and tapped Katsuki once, then twice. He groaned quietly, opening one of his fiery red eyes tiredly to look at you. “What, woman?” He spoke groggily.
“Can you stop snoring….?” You whispered. “The hell? I don’t snore.” He replied grumpily, this time, propping himself on his elbows to glare at you tiredly. “Yes, you do!” You shot back and sat up slightly. “I can’t even hear my damn movie, Katsuki.”
“Whatever, just turn it up.” He dismissed with a grunt, pulling you back into his arms and nuzzling into your chest.
“No, ‘cause then you’ll get mad at me for not letting you sleep.”
“Woman, you’re not letting me sleep either way!” He growled and gave your side a pinch. You gasped and swatted his hand away, deciding to turn the movie off and settling comfortably in his protective arms.
Minutes passed and the bedroom was silent, only the sounds of breathing could be heard. You were slowly drifting off to sleep when—
“Katsuki…” You poked him, whispering.
“What?” He groaned, his voice being muffled against your shirt.
“You’re snoring, I can’t sleep.” You poked him again.
He grumbled, pulling you closer to his body before replying, “For the last time, woman, I don’t snore.”
“Yes you do, that’s literally why I can’t sleep.” You said matter-of-factly to which he scoffed. “Yeah? Then prove it.” He spoke, his eyes still closed.
You groaned into the darkness. “What am I supposed to do, record you?”
“Sure, make it your damn ringtone while you’re at it. Maybe that’ll shut you up.” He smirked lazily, hugging you tighter.
You could only blink in response, the audacity this man had! However, you bit back a laugh. “You’re impossible.”
“Yeah? And you’re still awake, so whose fault is that?”
You shook your head, smiling and snuggling into him, wrapping your arms around him lazily again. “Whatever, just let me sleep.”
“G’night, dumbass.” He murmured, pressing a gentle, lazy kiss to your forehead before drifting off to sleep….and snoring again.
You sighed, staring blankly at the ceiling. Tonight was going to be a loooong night.
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© CHSVOK. please do not plagiarize, copy, or translate my work in any way, shape, or form.
reblogs are greatly appreciated !
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fatliberation · 1 year ago
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they have a point though. you wouldn't need everyone to accommodate you if you just lost weight, but you're too lazy to stick to a healthy diet and exercise. it's that simple. I'd like to see you back up your claims, but you have no proof. you have got to stop lying to yourselves and face the facts
Must I go through this again? Fine. FINE. You guys are working my nerves today. You want to talk about facing the facts? Let's face the fucking facts.
In 2022, the US market cap of the weight loss industry was $75 billion [1, 3]. In 2021, the global market cap of the weight loss industry was estimated at $224.27 billion [2]. 
In 2020, the market shrunk by about 25%, but rebounded and then some since then [1, 3] By 2030, the global weight loss industry is expected to be valued at $405.4 billion [2]. If diets really worked, this industry would fall overnight. 
1. LaRosa, J. March 10, 2022. "U.S. Weight Loss Market Shrinks by 25% in 2020 with Pandemic, but Rebounds in 2021." Market Research Blog. 2. Staff. February 09, 2023. "[Latest] Global Weight Loss and Weight Management Market Size/Share Worth." Facts and Factors Research. 3. LaRosa, J. March 27, 2023. "U.S. Weight Loss Market Partially Recovers from the Pandemic." Market Research Blog.
Over 50 years of research conclusively demonstrates that virtually everyone who intentionally loses weight by manipulating their eating and exercise habits will regain the weight they lost within 3-5 years. And 75% will actually regain more weight than they lost [4].
4. Mann, T., Tomiyama, A.J., Westling, E., Lew, A.M., Samuels, B., Chatman, J. (2007). "Medicare’s Search For Effective Obesity Treatments: Diets Are Not The Answer." The American Psychologist, 62, 220-233. U.S. National Library of Medicine, Apr. 2007.
The annual odds of a fat person attaining a so-called “normal” weight and maintaining that for 5 years is approximately 1 in 1000 [5].
5. Fildes, A., Charlton, J., Rudisill, C., Littlejohns, P., Prevost, A.T., & Gulliford, M.C. (2015). “Probability of an Obese Person Attaining Normal Body Weight: Cohort Study Using Electronic Health Records.” American Journal of Public Health, July 16, 2015: e1–e6.
Doctors became so desperate that they resorted to amputating parts of the digestive tract (bariatric surgery) in the hopes that it might finally result in long-term weight-loss. Except that doesn’t work either. [6] And it turns out it causes death [7],  addiction [8], malnutrition [9], and suicide [7].
6. Magro, Daniéla Oliviera, et al. “Long-Term Weight Regain after Gastric Bypass: A 5-Year Prospective Study - Obesity Surgery.” SpringerLink, 8 Apr. 2008. 7. Omalu, Bennet I, et al. “Death Rates and Causes of Death After Bariatric Surgery for Pennsylvania Residents, 1995 to 2004.” Jama Network, 1 Oct. 2007.  8. King, Wendy C., et al. “Prevalence of Alcohol Use Disorders Before and After Bariatric Surgery.” Jama Network, 20 June 2012.  9. Gletsu-Miller, Nana, and Breanne N. Wright. “Mineral Malnutrition Following Bariatric Surgery.” Advances In Nutrition: An International Review Journal, Sept. 2013.
Evidence suggests that repeatedly losing and gaining weight is linked to cardiovascular disease, stroke, diabetes and altered immune function [10].
10. Tomiyama, A Janet, et al. “Long‐term Effects of Dieting: Is Weight Loss Related to Health?” Social and Personality Psychology Compass, 6 July 2017.
Prescribed weight loss is the leading predictor of eating disorders [11].
11. Patton, GC, et al. “Onset of Adolescent Eating Disorders: Population Based Cohort Study over 3 Years.” BMJ (Clinical Research Ed.), 20 Mar. 1999.
The idea that “obesity” is unhealthy and can cause or exacerbate illnesses is a biased misrepresentation of the scientific literature that is informed more by bigotry than credible science [12]. 
12. Medvedyuk, Stella, et al. “Ideology, Obesity and the Social Determinants of Health: A Critical Analysis of the Obesity and Health Relationship” Taylor & Francis Online, 7 June 2017.
“Obesity” has no proven causative role in the onset of any chronic condition [13, 14] and its appearance may be a protective response to the onset of numerous chronic conditions generated from currently unknown causes [15, 16, 17, 18].
13. Kahn, BB, and JS Flier. “Obesity and Insulin Resistance.” The Journal of Clinical Investigation, Aug. 2000. 14. Cofield, Stacey S, et al. “Use of Causal Language in Observational Studies of Obesity and Nutrition.” Obesity Facts, 3 Dec. 2010.  15. Lavie, Carl J, et al. “Obesity and Cardiovascular Disease: Risk Factor, Paradox, and Impact of Weight Loss.” Journal of the American College of Cardiology, 26 May 2009.  16. Uretsky, Seth, et al. “Obesity Paradox in Patients with Hypertension and Coronary Artery Disease.” The American Journal of Medicine, Oct. 2007.  17. Mullen, John T, et al. “The Obesity Paradox: Body Mass Index and Outcomes in Patients Undergoing Nonbariatric General Surgery.” Annals of Surgery, July 2005. 18. Tseng, Chin-Hsiao. “Obesity Paradox: Differential Effects on Cancer and Noncancer Mortality in Patients with Type 2 Diabetes Mellitus.” Atherosclerosis, Jan. 2013.
Fatness was associated with only 1/3 the associated deaths that previous research estimated and being “overweight” conferred no increased risk at all, and may even be a protective factor against all-causes mortality relative to lower weight categories [19].
19. Flegal, Katherine M. “The Obesity Wars and the Education of a Researcher: A Personal Account.” Progress in Cardiovascular Diseases, 15 June 2021.
Studies have observed that about 30% of so-called “normal weight” people are “unhealthy” whereas about 50% of so-called “overweight” people are “healthy”. Thus, using the BMI as an indicator of health results in the misclassification of some 75 million people in the United States alone [20]. 
20. Rey-López, JP, et al. “The Prevalence of Metabolically Healthy Obesity: A Systematic Review and Critical Evaluation of the Definitions Used.” Obesity Reviews : An Official Journal of the International Association for the Study of Obesity, 15 Oct. 2014.
While epidemiologists use BMI to calculate national obesity rates (nearly 35% for adults and 18% for kids), the distinctions can be arbitrary. In 1998, the National Institutes of Health lowered the overweight threshold from 27.8 to 25—branding roughly 29 million Americans as fat overnight—to match international guidelines. But critics noted that those guidelines were drafted in part by the International Obesity Task Force, whose two principal funders were companies making weight loss drugs [21].
21. Butler, Kiera. “Why BMI Is a Big Fat Scam.” Mother Jones, 25 Aug. 2014. 
Body size is largely determined by genetics [22].
22. Wardle, J. Carnell, C. Haworth, R. Plomin. “Evidence for a strong genetic influence on childhood adiposity despite the force of the obesogenic environment” American Journal of Clinical Nutrition Vol. 87, No. 2, Pages 398-404, February 2008.
Healthy lifestyle habits are associated with a significant decrease in mortality regardless of baseline body mass index [23].  
23. Matheson, Eric M, et al. “Healthy Lifestyle Habits and Mortality in Overweight and Obese Individuals.” Journal of the American Board of Family Medicine : JABFM, U.S. National Library of Medicine, 25 Feb. 2012.
Weight stigma itself is deadly. Research shows that weight-based discrimination increases risk of death by 60% [24].
24. Sutin, Angela R., et al. “Weight Discrimination and Risk of Mortality .” Association for Psychological Science, 25 Sept. 2015.
Fat stigma in the medical establishment [25] and society at large arguably [26] kills more fat people than fat does [27, 28, 29].
25. Puhl, Rebecca, and Kelly D. Bronwell. “Bias, Discrimination, and Obesity.” Obesity Research, 6 Sept. 2012. 26. Engber, Daniel. “Glutton Intolerance: What If a War on Obesity Only Makes the Problem Worse?” Slate, 5 Oct. 2009.  27. Teachman, B. A., Gapinski, K. D., Brownell, K. D., Rawlins, M., & Jeyaram, S. (2003). Demonstrations of implicit anti-fat bias: The impact of providing causal information and evoking empathy. Health Psychology, 22(1), 68–78. 28. Chastain, Ragen. “So My Doctor Tried to Kill Me.” Dances With Fat, 15 Dec. 2009. 29. Sutin, Angelina R, Yannick Stephan, and Antonio Terraciano. “Weight Discrimination and Risk of Mortality.” Psychological Science, 26 Nov. 2015.
There's my "proof." Where is yours?
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yoursjaeyun · 6 months ago
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𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐦𝐞𝐬𝐬.
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𝐩airing. bf!jay x fmr
𝐠enre. angst, fluff, suggestive ( tiniest bit ) | post-sex-argument kinda thing
𝐰arnings. not that many tbh… nicknames, lots of kissing, jay being clingy, lmk if i need to add more.
𝐰c. 1k+
𝐚/𝐧. yes i wrote another argument with jay drabble leave me alone pls . :)
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you lie on your side, staring at the wall, the last remainders of anger still simmering in your chest. the sheets are tangled around your legs, sticky with sweat and other remnants of the night. you can feel jay's presence behind you, his warm body felt in sharp contrast to the lingering cold tension on your skin.
the argument keeps replaying in your mind like a stuck record. the raised voices and harsh words now seem pointless. your heart is knotted with frustration, and even though there's been a spark between you, your anger hasn't fully faded.
you hear jay shift behind you, the bed creaking under his weight. a moment later, his arm snakes around your waist, pulling you back against his chest. his breath is warm against the nape of your neck, but instead of comforting you, it only fuels your frustration. how can he be so calm? so casual? after everything that was said.
“still mad?” his voice is soft.
you bite your lip, refusing to give him the satisfaction of a response. the last thing you want is for him to think that he can just brush everything under the rug with a few well-placed kisses and whispered apologies.
but jay has always had a knack for finding the cracks in your armor. his lips find the curve of your shoulder, trailing lazy kisses up your neck. you shiver despite yourself, your body betraying the anger still coiled in your chest.
“y/n,” he murmurs against your skin, his voice a velvet caress that sends a shiver down your spine. “come on, baby, talk to me.”
you let out a sigh, your irritation slipping through in the sound. “i don’t want to talk to you right now.”
his lips pause in their journey up your neck, and you feel him pull back slightly. there’s a moment of silence, and you can practically feel the gears turning in his mind as he tries to figure out how to approach this. jay is many things—charming, witty, endlessly patient—but right now, you don’t want any of those things. you want him to understand how much he hurt you.
“i messed up. i shouldn’t have said those things. i’m sorry.” he says finally, his voice losing some of its playful edge.
you close your eyes, willing yourself not to cry. you’re still so angry, but there’s a part of you that hates feeling this way, hates the distance that’s grown between you two because of a stupid argument.
“you always do this,” you whisper, your voice barely audible. “you say things you don’t mean, and then you act like everything’s fine. its not.”
there’s a pause, and for a moment, you think he might just drop it, let the silence stretch out between you like a chasm neither of you are brave enough to cross. but then he sighs, and you feel his arms tighten around you, pulling you closer.
“y/n, i’m sorry. i was stupid, and i said things i didn’t mean. i don’t want to lose you over something so dumb.” you could tell he regretted it now, especially by the tone of his voice.
you want to stay mad, to hold on to the anger a little longer, but it’s hard when he’s being like this—when he’s holding you like he never wants to let go.
but instead of responding, you push his arms away and slip out of bed, the cool air hitting your bare skin as you stand. without a word, you grab the discarded shirt from the floor and pull it over your head, barely covering yourself as you make your way toward the bathroom. you can feel jay's eyes on you, but you don’t turn around. you’re still too angry, too raw.
you hear him sigh behind you, a soft sound filled with frustration and regret. a moment later, his footsteps follow you, and before you even think to close the bathroom door, his arms are around your waist again, pulling you back against him. his lips find your neck, pressing soft, apologetic kisses to your skin.
“y/n, please,” he whispers, his voice laced with guilt. “this is the last thing i’d ever want to happen between us—” “you made it happen. this is your mess.” you cut him off.
you take your hands off of the edge of the sink, looking up at him from the mirror, trying to focus on anything but the feel of his lips against your skin, the warmth of his body pressed against yours. but it’s impossible to ignore the way your heart beats just a little faster when he’s this close.
“you can’t keep hurting me and then expect everything to be okay because you apologized,” you continue, your voice barely above a whisper. “it’s not that simple.”
“i know it’s not. but i love you, and i’ll do whatever it takes to make this right. just... don’t push me away.” he says, and there’s a tremor in his voice that makes your heart clench.
his words hang in the air, heavy with sincerity, and for a moment, you feel your anger slip away, replaced by a bone-deep exhaustion. you don’t want to fight anymore. you just want to be held, to feel like everything will be okay.
you stay silent, allowing jay to cling to you as you both begin to clean yourselves up. his hands are gentle as he helps, and the quiet between you is soothing, a way to ease the tension without words.
jay doesn’t push you for conversation, his presence a steady comfort as he quietly assists. he’s patient. the room slowly returns to its normal state, and the silence between you starts to feel less oppressive, more like a shared space where both of you can catch your breath.
finally, as you finish up and the room is back in order, jay breaks the silence. “do you want some tea before bed?” he asks softly, a hint of hope in his voice. “it can help you sleep better.”
you nod, the gesture small but meaningful. “yeah, that would be nice.”
jay’s face brightens with relief, and he moves to prepare the tea. you watch from the edge of the kitchen, the familiarity of his actions a comforting reminder of the normalcy you both seek. he works efficiently, filling the kettle, selecting your favorite tea, and letting the water come to a boil.
when the tea is ready, he brings a steaming cup to you. you take the cup from him, the warmth of the ceramic soothing against your cold fingers. jay settles beside you, his gaze attentive as you sip the tea slowly, savoring the calm it brings.
the room is quiet, the only sounds being the gentle clinking of the cup and the soft hum of jay’s breathing. he watches you with an unreadable expression as you finish your tea.
as you place the empty cup down, you finally turn to him, your eyes meeting his with a gentle smile. he waits, his gaze steady, and you can see the vulnerability in his eyes.
leaning in, you press a gentle kiss to his lips, the touch tender—and jay’s arms instantly wrap around you, pulling you close as he returns the kiss, a sigh of relief escaping him.
the kiss deepens, his lips moving in unison against yours as his hands slide up under your shirt, his touch firm but gentle. your arms wrapping around his neck as you both lose yourselves in the kiss.
you break the kiss, both of you breathless and flushed, and a soft giggle escapes your lips. jay’s eyes sparkle with such affection, and he pulls you into a warm embrace, holding you close as you snuggle against him.
“you’re cute when you’re mad,” he murmurs, his voice light and teasing.
“shut up,” you laugh, your voice muffled against his chest as you hug him tighter.
jay chuckles, his hands stroking your back in a soothing rhythm, until there was a little silence again, as if he was trying to find the right words to say. “i’m sorry, y/n. i really am.”
you look up at his lips again and only nodded, caressing his cheek with your thumb. “its okay, but if it happens again. there will be consequences.” you raise your eyebrows
“yeah? what kind of consequences?” he teases and you roll your eyes as he pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead. “you’ll see,” you chuckle.
“i love you.”
“i love you too.”
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YOURSJAEYUN est. 2024 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.
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amourquinn · 1 month ago
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JERSEY ; quinn hughes ( drabble )
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pairing : boyfriend!quinn x fem!reader wc. 535
genre : fluff no warnings
summary : you surprise quinn by wearing his oversized canucks jersey
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it was a lazy sunday afternoon, and the gray skies over vancouver hinted at rain. you’d spent the morning lounging around quinn’s apartment while he’d been out for practice. with no plans for the rest of the day, you decided to surprise him with a little something.
while rifling through his closet earlier, you’d spotted one of his jerseys—a home blue #43, slightly oversized for you but undeniably cozy. on a whim, you slipped it on over your leggings. it smelled faintly like him—clean, crisp, and comforting.
you were in the kitchen when you heard the familiar click of the door unlocking. quinn stepped inside, wearing his tracksuit, his bag slung over one shoulder. he glanced up, his expression casual until his eyes landed on you.
for a second, he just stood there, frozen in the doorway. his gaze traveled over the jersey, lingering on the way it hung loosely on you, the sleeves a little too long for your arms. his lips parted slightly, as though he wanted to say something but couldn’t find the words.
“hey,” you said, breaking the silence as you turned back to the counter, trying to act nonchalant. “you’re back earlier than i thought. i was just making coffee—want some?”
quinn didn’t respond right away. you turned around to find him still staring at you, his hockey bag now forgotten on the floor.
“you’re wearing my jersey,” he said finally, his voice quiet but warm.
you raised an eyebrow, giving him a teasing look. “what, am i not allowed to?”
he shook his head quickly, a smile breaking across his face. “no, no, it’s not that. it’s just…” he trailed off, scratching the back of his neck. “you look really good in it.”
you laughed, leaning against the counter as you folded your arms across your chest. “is that your way of saying you like it?”
“i love it,” he said without hesitation, taking a few steps closer. his smile was soft now, his eyes scanning your face before drifting back down to the jersey. “it’s kind of surreal, honestly.”
“what is?” you asked, tilting your head.
“seeing you like this,” he admitted, his voice a little quieter now. “it’s my name, my number… but it’s you wearing it. it just—” he stopped, clearly struggling to put his thoughts into words. “it feels good.”
you felt your cheeks flush at his honesty. “well,” you said, trying to lighten the mood, “it’s comfy, so i might have to steal it permanently.”
quinn laughed, reaching out to tug gently at the hem of the jersey. “you can keep it. i think it suits you better anyway.”
he stepped closer, his arms wrapping around your waist as he pulled you into a warm hug. “seriously, though,” he murmured against your hair, “you look amazing.”
“thanks,�� you said softly, resting your head against his chest. “i thought you might like it.”
“like it?” he repeated, leaning back just enough to look into your eyes. “i love it. and for the record, you’re never going to a game without wearing one of these again.”
you rolled your eyes, but his grin was infectious. “deal,” you said, laughing as he leaned down to kiss you.
© amourquinn
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starmocha · 2 months ago
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Sunday Reset [Sylus/Reader ★ 4348 words ★ Masterlist ★ Series Index ★ AO3] Lazy morning in bed with Sylus and your daughter. A/N: It’s my birthday today, but I guess I’m giving everyone a present instead. 🥹 I know Sylus’ myth had wrecked us all completely, so I’ve brought the fluff. This is a standalone one-shot and not meant to follow any existing series I have. But I won’t stop you if you want to think differently lol
“Hmm…”
You opened your eyes, blinking a few times before your sight adjusted, seeing the empty space in bed next to you. Still fuzzy minded, you wondered where Sylus was, since normally on the weekends, he would adjust his sleep schedule to match yours. Absentmindedly, your hand skimmed down your stomach, pausing when you felt the slight curve, causing you to breath in quickly. You pulled the cover back and stared down at the small bump that had formed just recently.
You were close to entering your second trimester, and your belly was already rounding out again. Even though this was your second pregnancy, it didn’t make this moment any less surreal.
While you and Sylus had discussed in the past about your future family, you both were not actively pursuing it, but also not taking any precautions. When you began having symptoms, you felt like your world had stopped. A few pregnancy tests later, and your suspicion was confirmed. Delighted, you had planned the perfect way of revealing the news to your husband.
You had sent a little messenger birdie his way, tasking her with a very important message and a polaroid she needed to pass onto him.
You still remembered the moment. You had recorded it, after all, having the foresight that this was a memory you wanted to preserve forever. You had recorded your two-year-old daughter scampering down the long hallway to her father’s study, a look of complete urgency on her face, feeling proud that her mother believed she was capable of delivering such an important news to her father. In her tiny hand was a polaroid she had grasped firmly, determined to not let it slip away.
Barging into his study, the toddler had rushed over to her father, exclaiming, “Message for you!”
Sylus had laughed, always delighted to see his daughter. “Oh?” He had humored her, eyes twinkling with joy and mischief when he had seen her serious expression. “Now who sent this messenger birdie my way?”
“Mommy!”
He had laughed again, the richness of it still ringing in your ears even now. You recalled seeing him peeked up at the wide opening of his study now, undoubtedly noticing your presence outside, but he had said nothing, his entire attention was redirected to the little girl who had climbed onto his lap.
“What is Mommy’s message then?” he had asked, giving a tender stroke of his daughter’s cheek. She giggled.
“Mommy…Mommy…said…she’s…having…a bun.”
You remembered stifling a giggle, already guessing how your short message was going to be butchered completely.
Sylus had looked confused. “She’s…having a bun? For breakfast?” he had questioned, utterly lost by his daughter’s message.
She shook her head furiously. “Oven! In her oven!”
“…she’s making buns?”
His daughter had frowned and shook her head again before shoving the polaroid she held into his face. “Mommy said to give you this!”
Sylus’ face had gone completely white, his breathing stopping instantly in that moment as he looked at the polaroid of five pregnancy tests lined up neatly on the bathroom counter. All positive.
“…Bun in her oven,” he had repeated, clarity seemingly settling in now. Slowly, his face had broken into a grin. His head dropped, and his chest rumbled with laughter. The little girl sitting on his lap looked at her father confused, wondering if he had gone crazy. Sylus playfully pinched her cheek, making her giggled and whined. Sylus’ voice had dropped to a whisper, almost as if he was conversing with the little girl about a special secret, “A baby…Mommy’s having a baby?”
The girl had nodded excitedly.
“You’re going to be a big sister?”
“Yes!”
Sylus had looked overjoy. “The best big sister,” he then said, leaning down to kiss his daughter’s cheek. He had looked up, his excitement instantly recorded by the phone camera indiscreetly held up outside his study. He sighed in resignation. “Sweetie, enough. I know you’re there. Care to confirm this very important message for me?”
You had turned your phone off, ending the recording. You stepped into his office, smiling sheepishly as you ran a hand over your still flat belly. “We’re having another baby,” you had said plainly, but there was enough weight in your words that made both you and your husband overwhelmed with indescribable happiness.
Sylus had sighed, a look of pure bliss on his face. He adjusted his daughter and patted his lap. “Come here,” he had said, “Let me hold you.”
His head dropped again, face nuzzling his daughter’s. “Both of you.”
Your mind returned to the present, the sweet memory lingering another moment as you remembered the way Sylus’ large hand had rested on your then flat belly, covering it completely. He was so ecstatic. You had seen the way his eyes gleamed with joy at the very idea of you going through another pregnancy again. He had certainly enjoyed it the first time around, you recalled wryly, giving your belly a rub and remembering how he had doted on you, unable to keep his hands off of you.
You sighed and turned to look at the empty space next to you again, but before your thought could proceed any further, you suddenly felt a wave of nausea hitting you out of nowhere. You covered your mouth, stumbling out of bed and racing for the bathroom, and just in the nick of time, you managed to hurl straight into the toilet, groaning as you clutched the sides. Once you felt it was over, you slowly gotten up and went over to the sink to wash up. You looked down at your belly and frowned, your breathing a little labored now.
You steadied your breathing again, sighing in defeat.
This baby was not going to make it easy on you. The first pregnancy had seemed like such a breeze with minimal morning sickness or any of the typical symptoms. This one, however, you were feeling anything and everything from the morning sickness that seemed to come at all hours to intense fatigue that robbed you of any energy to do anything.
Sighing again, you walked over and turned on the shower, letting the water warmed up as you went about brushing your teeth first.
About twenty minutes later, you left the bathroom, changed into new comfortable lounge clothes and feeling more refreshed than earlier. You walked down the hallways to your daughter’s bedroom, opening the door a crack to check in on the little girl. You could hear quiet sniffling and whimpering.
“Baby?” You made your way over to her bed, sitting down just as the little girl sat up and crawled into your arms, whimpering quietly. You felt her forehead. It was warmer than the night before. You and Sylus had noticed she had seemed to be coming under the weather the previous night, having little energy and no appetite for her dinner.
“I want Daddy…” She sobbed into your chest, her small hand grasping the fabric of your shirt to rub between her fingers.
You rubbed the back of her head soothingly, giving her a kiss. “Okay, let’s go find Daddy,” You answered gently, slowly getting up. You balanced her on the side of your hip as you carried her out of the room. She clung to you tightly like a little koala bear, and you soothed her with your soft, gentle voice as you walked down the long hallways.
On your way, you noticed Mephisto flying overhead outside Sylus’ study.
“Mephie,” You called out to the mechanical crow, “Is Sylus in his study?”
The crow cawed in the affirmative and led you to the room. The door was opened ajar, and you pushed it open further, peeking in to see Sylus at his desk on the phone. He noticed you and motioned you in as he wrapped up the call.
“Daddy…Daddy…” Your daughter sobbed harder and twisted in your arms, turning to hold out her own arms to reach for her father.
Sylus ended the call and stood up to walk over to you two. He immediately took his daughter into his arms, the little girl’s head rested on his shoulder as she clung to her father tightly. He rubbed her back soothingly before glancing over to you with a look of concern.
“She seems worse than last night,” he commented.
You nodded and stepped closer. “I think she’s coming down with a fever.”
“Poor little birdie,” Sylus said, and stroked the back of his daughter’s head gently. “Come on, let’s get you back into bed, Little Miss.”
“No!” The girl clung tighter to Sylus. “I want Daddy…and Mommy…”
You both laughed in resignation.
“Okay, okay,” Sylus conceded immediately, “You have both Daddy and Mommy…”
He glanced down at you again. “And how are you feeling?”
You looked at him confused.
“Your morning sickness,” he clarified.
You rubbed your small bump and forced a smile. “I’m okay.”
Sylus saw through your attempt to deflect, and he immediately reprimanded you. “Don’t lie to me,” he said, “I know this pregnancy hasn’t been easy on you. Be honest.”
You sighed guiltily, and nodded in reluctance. “I had a bit of morning sickness earlier,” you confessed. “Is it supposed to be this difficult this time around?”
He looked at you sympathetically, before pulling you into his embrace, holding both you and his daughter close to him. “I’m sorry,” he said, “I wish there was a way for me to lessen this burden on you.”
You sighed and snuggled closer, settling happily into his warm embrace. “I lucked out the first time, so this time I’m getting to experience what I had missed out…twofold,” you said, attempting to lighten the mood with a bit of self-depreciating humor. It seemed to work, because Sylus also cracked a smile, picking up on your intention.
“Why don’t I put my two little ladies to bed to rest,” he suggested, already leading you out of his study.
“Well, she needs to rest, but why do I have to, too?”
Sylus looked at you pointedly. “Haven’t you been feeling fatigued lately?”
“Well, yes…”
“And you said work has been exhausting?”
“Also yes…”
“And it’s a Sunday…”
“Yes…?”
Sylus huffed in amusement at your confused expression. “Why don’t we have a lazy Sunday in bed as a family?” He looked over at his daughter sniffling against his shoulder, her face rubbing against him in discomfort. He rubbed her back again to soothe her. “I think we could all use a little extra rest this morning.”
“Fine, you have a point,” you answered with a smile. His suggestion did sound appealing to you, not minding a lazy morning in bed, especially with the people you loved. You blinked in surprise when he handed you your daughter. You balanced her on your hip again, soothing her when she started to fuss again at the loss of her father’s embrace.
“You two get settled in bed,” Sylus said, “I’ll be there in a moment.”
You didn’t question him and just nodded, as you both turned to head in opposite directions. As you headed to your bedroom, you heard wings flapping, seeing Mephisto following you. You smiled.
“Gonna rest with us as well, Mephie?”
The crow cawed happily.
You laughed. You opened the door to your bedroom, smiling as Mephisto flew in and settled on his perch. He preened his feathers for a moment before he seemed to doze off. It was easy to forget sometimes that he was a mechanical crow, you mused, since his behaviors were so lifelike.
“Sweet dreams,” you told the crow as you walked over to the bed and placed your daughter in the middle before you settled in as well, turning to rest on your side. You propped your head up, leaning against your hand while your other free hand stroked your daughter’s head soothingly.
“Mommy…”
“Yes, baby?”
“Where’s Daddy?”
“Daddy has to do something really quick,” you explained, “He’ll be back in a moment. Try to rest for a bit, my darling.”
The little girl moaned softly, clearly in discomfort. She curled up close to you, resting against your small bump. You held her close and sighed. You always felt so helpless whenever she was sick, feeling like you never could do enough to assuage her illness. If you could take away all of her pain, you would do it in a heartbeat.
“Shh, shh, it’ll be okay,” You whispered, holding her close. It was just one child right now, but you wondered how overwhelmed you would be when the baby arrived and you were dealing with two young children. You sighed again, knowing that was a bridge you would cross in your immediate future.
Footsteps sounded from outside the room, and a few seconds later, you saw your husband returning. Looking up, you were surprised to see Sylus returning to the bedroom carrying a tray. On it was a little pink sippy cup with playful green dinosaurs imprinted all around and orange juice inside it. Alongside your daughter’s drink was a steaming cup of ginger tea and a plate of peeled and cutup apple slices. Sylus set the tray on the nightstand as he sat down on the edge of the bed, taking your daughter into his arms. The little girl settled against her father, fussing softly. He stroked her hair comfortingly.
“You should both have a little something for your stomachs,” Sylus explained, carefully handing you the cup of tea. He grabbed the sippy cup and nudged it closer to his daughter, but she pushed it away, whining quietly in annoyance. His tone was gentle, but still firm, explaining to the sick toddler, “You won’t get better if you don’t drink this orange juice, baby.”
The girl whined again before reluctantly letting her father nudged the sippy cup into her little hands. She barely held onto it, making Sylus grasped it before the cup fell on the floor. He gently pushed the cup closer, watching as his daughter took little sips.
“Good girl,” he praised before glancing over at you. His eyes darted to the cup of tea in your hands. “You, too.”
You laughed at his firm tone. “Will I get the same treatment if I whine?”
His eyes twinkled mischievously. “If I recall correctly,” he started, his tone dropping low briefly and his eyes darted to your slightly rounded belly, “The last time I gave you ‘special treatment’…was how you ended up in this current situation.”
You blushed prettily under his impish gaze before hissing quietly, “Not in front of our child.”
“Children,” he corrected you with an insufferable smirk. He reached over to the plate of apples, grabbing a slice as he carefully fed it to his daughter. The girl took little bites, chewing slowly, unaware of her parents’ conversation.
You rolled your eyes and took a sip of your tea. “You are lucky you are holding her right now,” you said, tone half-serious, but inside you were melting at the sight of him taking care of your daughter so diligently, “Otherwise, I would be beating you with this pillow.”
He laughed, believing you completely. The sick little girl on his lap slumped against him, giving in to her exhaustion as she fell back to sleep. Picking her up, Sylus carried her over to his side of the bed, and as he settled in, he placed his daughter down in the center with both you and him on either side of her. You picked up your daughter’s hand, holding onto it comfortably.
“Poor little thing,” you said. “We should give her some medicine after she rests for a bit.”
Sylus felt her forehead with the back of his hand, and nodded. “Just a little cold,” he said, “A little rest and some medicine and soon she will be back to wreaking havoc at Onychinus’ base.”
You giggled and settled back down in bed. You and Sylus both watched as the little girl slept, her soft breathing heard in the silence. She curled up closer to you again, resting as near to you as she could in spite of your small belly you now carried. You smiled, feeling a strong sense of protectiveness as you held her close.
“Motherhood looks gorgeous on you,” Sylus’ soft murmur broke the silence. He smiled at you lovingly.
You smiled back. “Fatherhood doesn’t look that bad on you either.”
He shook his head, laughing quietly. He pulled you and his daughter closer, the both of you resting within his protective embrace. “Another baby…” he said softly, “Another baby…I still can’t believe it. There’s another baby growing inside you.”
You peered up curiously. “Having any regrets?”
“God no,” he answered back, pinching your cheek playfully.
“Ah—”
He stole your lips, kissing you long and slow. There was a soft hum of approval in the back of his throat when he heard the little gasps and whimpers from you in between the kisses. When he pulled away from your lips, he continued upwards, placing a kiss on the tip of your nose, and then pressing his lips to your forehead. You felt the lingering tingles of where his lips were, your cheeks pinking under his knowing gaze.
“I love you,” he said with a sigh, “Thank you for this. For everything…”
“I didn’t do anything,” you answered feebly with a pout.
Sylus hummed softly. He stroked your cheek. “Sweetie, you have given me so much and more.”
His hand drifted down, resting over your belly. It lingered there as his eyes wandered from his sleeping daughter and over to where his second child was now growing in your womb.
“Do you want a boy this time?”
“Hm?” Sylus looked up distractedly, meeting your curious gaze. You repeated the question, and he huffed quietly, shrugging. “It doesn’t matter,” he answered. He gave your belly another gentle rub. “I’d be happy with a boy or another girl.”
You weren’t aware that you were pouting at his response, at least not until he pinched your cheek again, laughing as he asked teasingly, “What? Are you upset by my answer?”
“A little…” you admitted as you rubbed your cheek. You gave him a slight glare, but he seemed unbothered, his smile widening a little.
“Why? Did you want me to say a boy then?”
You paused, pondering, before grinning at him. “Wouldn’t you think a little mini-you would be adorable to have as well?”
“A mini-Sylus?” he questioned, astonished. He smirked, his curiosity piqued. “Then, sweetie, what does a mini-Sylus look like in your eyes?”
“Hmm…” You considered his question carefully before answering. The contemplative expression you wore garnered a smile from Sylus, clearly amused by the level of importance you had bestowed upon his impromptu question. A moment later, you spoke, “He would be confident…fearless…attentive…”
Sylus watched with amusement as you listed off the numerous traits you had in your mind. He hadn’t truly expected you to give this such a serious consideration, but the way your eyes softened as you spoke sincerely filled him with warmth. He leaned over, kissing you suddenly and stopping you in the middle of your listing.
“Ah—Sylus?”
He hummed softly and pecked your lips again really quick. “Sorry, you just looked so cute, I couldn’t help myself,” he said, but his tone sounded anything but apologetic. He continued to hum softly, his hand stroking down your side, as he was also mindful of the sleeping child between the two of you.
“Boy or girl,” Sylus started, his softened gaze resting on you, “I truly would not mind either one.”
You closed your eyes as he leaned in closer, placing a kiss on your forehead. You looked at him again, smiling as he looked down at his daughter sleeping in the middle, his hand brushing aside the flyaway hair in the toddler’s face. He brushed his thumb against her mouth, wiping away the little drool that dribbled at the corner.
“This time next year,” you began, catching his attention once more, “There will be two little ones sleeping in our bed with us.”
He chuckled in amusement, seemingly delighted by the prospect. “Then it’s a good thing this bed is big enough for them—and more.”
“More?”
“Only if you want more,” Sylus added, amused by your curious gaze. He smiled sympathetically, his hand reaching out to stroke your cheek in comfort. “I know this pregnancy has been a little rougher than your first one.”
Your hand overlapped his, the gentle warmth emanated from him carried away your worries. “Well, that is a thought to consider,” you said, adding, “I mean we certainly make beautiful babies, so saying ‘no’ right away would be a shame…”
“And we have plenty of fun making them,” he added with a suggestive tone and lift of his brow, making you blushed.
“Oh, you—”
He leaned in, seizing your lips again, stealing your words and breath in one quick instance. When he parted, his mouth lingered near, his voice carrying shades of sensuality. “And you always look so, so fucking gorgeous pregnant with my baby.”
Your heartbeat skipped, breath a little heavier than it was seconds ago. Your mind struggled to stay in the moment with him, still gripped by his intense kisses and the desirous gaze he had. “L-language,” you chided him, his immediate soft chuckles made your heart pound faster.
“Sorry,” he said with absolutely no remorse heard in his voice, “I couldn’t help it. You know how I feel about you pregnant. Besides, she’s still asleep…”
“Toddlers are like sponges, you never know what they’ll repeat,” you added firmly, though you couldn’t help but blushed at the memories of your first pregnancy and how much he had worshiped you in that state, treating you like a fertility goddess, revering the changes your body had gone through to carry his baby. It seemed history would repeat itself this time around as well, knowing Sylus was only going to fall even deeper in love with you. The look in his crimson eyes was both gratitude and desire, his restraints only held back because you two were not alone in this moment.
“I concede then,” he answered, adding mischievously, “For now.”
Your daughter turned in her sleep, curling up close to Sylus this time. He laughed softly, gently pulling her closer to him, his large hand resting lightly on her small back. He gazed down fondly at his daughter, and then he looked at you, smiling as he watched your hand skimmed over your belly.
“Thank you,” he repeated again, “For this beautiful life you have given me.”
“Sylus…”
“You must know very well that you and the children are my whole world,” he said, his voice warm and his eyes reflecting his deep devotion to you.
Before you could respond, your daughter stirred in her sleep, waking up. She rubbed her eyes sleepily as you and Sylus both looked down at the sick toddler with unruly hair now.
“How are you feeling now, my little birdie?” Sylus asked, rubbing her cheek gently.
“…tired…”
You both chuckled at the lackluster single-word response.
“That’s alright,” you told her, kissing her cheek, “Sleeping will also make you feel better. Would you like some more juice, my darling?”
She nodded sleepily and you reached over to the nightstand to grab the sippy cup. You helped her drink before setting the cup back in its place. The little girl rubbed her eyes and mumbled sleepily again, “Daddy…lullaby please?”
He huffed in amusement. “But Mommy doesn’t like Daddy’s singing…”
“Oh! Don’t make me be the villain!”
Sylus laughed off your glare. “Who said my singing voice was like nails on a chalkboard?” He leaned down and kissed his daughter on top of her head. “At least someone in this room has a well-defined taste and sincere appreciation for my lovely singing voice.”
The little girl pouted, not understanding the conversation between you and Sylus. She looked at her father pleadingly, tugging on his sleeve. “Daddy? Please?”
“Ask Mommy,” Sylus said, smirking at how you had widened your eyes at him, not believing that he would turn on you like this.
Your daughter immediately looked to you, lips quivering. “Mommy…please?”
You sighed and nodded, relenting to your daughter’s little plea. “Daddy can sing you a lullaby…”
You glared at Sylus again, seeing how tickled he was to see you cornered like this. You mentally made a note to get back at him at another date, but for now, you and your daughter both settled back down in bed as Sylus sang.
“Hush, little baby, don't say a word…Papa's gonna buy you a mockingbird…”
The little girl let her heavy eyelids drift close again, turning to face you once more. You stroked her head, lulling her into a deeper sleep as Sylus sang her lullaby to her.
“And if that mockingbird don't sing,” Sylus continued, his own head resting on his pillow, his eyes shifting back and forth from his daughter to you, “Papa's gonna buy you a diamond ring…”
The morning dragged on with afternoon just a few hours away. The soon-to-be family of four slumbered peacefully in bed together. Sylus’ soft lazy singing filled the silence, the warmth in his voice wrapped around you, filling you with a gentle peace.
How peculiar, you thought, finding his singing voice actually…pleasant to listen to today. Perhaps there was a reason your daughter was so fond of her father’s singing. There was a strong sense of security you felt from hearing his voice, knowing he would never let anything or anyone harm you.
You looked at him through sleepy eyes, the fatigue from your pregnancy claiming you once more. You smiled, seeing his own eyes drifting close as he yawned in between the last few verses before slipping off to sleep, the lullaby ending abruptly. Between the two of you, your daughter snored softly, snuggled close to you and the baby you carried in your womb.
You let your eyes close, falling deeper into sleep, the sweet dream you had unmatched by the wonderful life you had with your beloved.
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pitchsidestories · 4 months ago
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little me (to my sister) II Alexia Putellas x Putellas!Reader
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masterlist I word count: 882
a/n: thanks anon for giving us the idea for this story, enjoy 🫶🏻
“Something’s off.”
You looked up in surprise, suddenly torn from your thoughts by Aitanas voice.
She observed you closely through narrowed eyes.
You thought it was funny how she strained to figure out what was wrong.
With an innocent grin you stretched your legs out in front of you and leaned back against the dressing room bench.
“I don’t know what you mean, Tana.”
“Something just feels very wrong today.”, she said once again, her gaze still fixed on you.
You were just waiting for her to finally realize it. The white 11 printed on the chest of your warm-up shirt wasn’t really subtle. Everyone knew which Putellas sister this number belonged to.
“More like looks wrong.”, Mapi corrected the midfielder and winked at you.
A few of your teammates had grouped around you, smiling at each other once they saw you wearing your older sisters shirt.
“Hello? Can you stop staring at me?”, you complained playfully.
Vicky flashed you a lazy grin in reply: “Wait until your sister sees it.”
Luckily, your sister had a habit of putting in some extra work in the gym before your actual training so she left the house early that morning, her shirt unattended in her closet.
“She won’t even notice.”, you calmed Vicky with a laugh.
You were wrong about that.
Alexia walked in a few minutes later, a blush on her cheeks and sweat beads on her forehead from her previous workout while she sipped on some isotonic sports drink.
She only took one look at you and immediately yelled: “Is that my shirt?! You little…”
You raised your eyebrows, surprised that she had stopped herself and curious about what insult she had planned on using: “Little what?”
“I’m going to murder you!”, she replied and took a few threatening strides towards you. The familiar upward curve of her mouth telling you that she wasn’t actually mad at you.
Laughing, you lifted your hands in defense: “Don’t! Remember, I’m mums favourite!”
Your sister gasped offendedly: “You’re not even mums third favourite!”
“That’s not true. Mapi, help me!”, you called your friend while your sister cornered you on the bench, blocking the obvious exit with her body.
Mapi shrugged nonchalantly: “I mean… I really thought she was you for a moment, Ale.”
“What?!”, you both said simultaneously, staring at the defender.
You and Alexia did look similar but there was no way that you looked over thirty years old!
Ingrid put a hand to her girlfriends arm, subtly grimacing: “You offended two Putellas at once, that’s a new record, love.”
“But I agree with Mapi. They look so similar.”, Kika chimed in and was immediately rewarded with a glare from your sister in return.
“Are you saying I look old?!”, you asked the Portuguese woman, your lips formed to a pout.
An amused smile appeared on Alexia’s face. “I’ve to admit I’m a bit flattered by the fact that I still look as young as her.”  
“I can assure you, you don’t.”, you replied teasingly.
“Rude.”, your older sibling commented, punching you playfully.
“You’re basically twice my age.”, you added grinning.
“Don’t exaggerate.”, she laughed, hands resting on her hips.
“I don’t!”, you insisted. The age gap between her and you were thirteen years, and you turned 17 in June. You were forever your mother’s miracle she hadn’t expected anymore but was glad to have received.
“So, are you going to swap shirts or play with each other’s?”, Aitana interjected curiously.
“We’ll swap shirts. Come on, little one.”, Alexia declared in her captain voice.
“Come and get it if you want.”, you gave her a challenging look.
“Don’t play games with me.”, your sister rolled her eyes in an annoyed manner.
“Or what?”, you stuck your tongue out cheekily before starting to jog away from the blonde.
“Fine! I’ll catch you anyway.”, she yelled smirking.
“Prove it.”, you responded, you stumbled over your feet which was then Alexia caught up with you, her body towering over you.
“I got you now give me my shirt.”, the midfielder demanded slightly out of breath, after she started to tickle you.
“Ale, stop!”, you gasped.
“I’ll when you return what belongs to me.”, the captain said.
“Okay, fine. You won.”, you sighed, swapping her shirt for yours.
“Thank you.”, Alexia smiled satisfied.
“Happy now?”
“Very., your sister confirmed, she paused for a moment when continued beaming, this is your friendly reminder that cooking is on you tonight and no, Olga won’t help you this time.”
“I already gave you your shirt back, you could at least let your girlfriend cook for me.”, you whined.
“No, it’s your turn.”, she shook her head.
“Ugh, fine.”, you groaned.
The training was about to start now, the playing time was officially over, and you wanted to prove Pere that you belonged into the squad not because of your famous surname but because of the talent of your own.
Later in the kitchen Olga noticed you struggling with the recipe you were trying to cook, so she stepped inside with a friendly smile on her lips.
“Don’t worry I’ll help you, Ale is busy with business calls, so she won’t notice.”
“When is she not busy?”, you returned smiling.
“Good point.”, your sisters girlfriend admitted.
Gratefulness was spreading in your chest.
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multi-fandom-imagine · 1 year ago
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I warned u and now u shall pay the price ☺️
Luci and baby's first steps-
I await ur notification my friend ✨😂
A/n: GHAAA SO CUTE!
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Lucifer vowed that he'd be a better father, and with your and Charlies help he knew could do it. It was another lazy afternoon you were resting on the couch, your gaze fixated on Lucifer that did his best to get his little girls attention.
"Edna sweetie! Look at this little ducky! Don't you want the little ducky?!"
Sitting up,Edna dropped the plush she was chewing on as she turned her attention to her father. An excited squeal escaped her lips as she did her best to stand on wobbly legs.
A gasped escaped Lucifer's lips as he grasped your arm shaking you awake. "Look! Look!"
Slowly opening your eyes, you nearly slipped off the couch as you both watched the toddler take a few tentative steps towards you. Her legs wobbling as she did her best to reach the little rubber duck in Lucifer's hands.
Now sitting up on the couch, you and Lucifer eagerly watched your daughter walk towards you until she collapsed in her father's arms. Her excited squeal matching her father's as he lifted her in the air, her small legs kicking with happiness. "Did you see that! OH." Letting out a small sniffle, he turned to face you as his lips quivered. "I can't believe we didn't record her first steps...what kind of father am I!"
Sighing, you slipped off the couch fighting back a yawn. Your cheek pressing against his as Edna nuzzled into her father's chest. "It's okay Lucifer, we'll get them again. Besides, I think this a much better memory."
Relaxing into you, Lucifer slowly nodded his head as he fixed his daughter's blonde hair. "You're right...we'll get it next time" Right now he was going to enjoy this moment with his two girls. "I can't wait to tell Charlie."
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mmso-notlikethat · 22 days ago
Note
Buck finally gets the dance he missed from the wedding 😌 POST breakup/makeup
(this is a month or two after they makeup)
Buck huffed loudly, muttering under his breath, "Guess I’ll just sit here…ignored…forever."
When Tommy didn’t answer him, Buck let out another dramatic sigh, louder this time.
Tommy smirked but didn’t look up, his glasses perched on his nose, immersed in something important—a report, maybe.
"What is it, Evan?"
"Oh, nothing," Buck replied, his voice dripping with exaggerated sadness. "I’m just bored and my boyfriend won’t give me attention."
"Hmm," Tommy hummed distractedly, his eyes still fixed on his work.
Buck shifted, preparing another sigh, this one destined to be the most theatrical yet, when Tommy suddenly closed whatever he’d been working on with a decisive snap. He stood up, leaned over, and kissed the top of Buck’s head.
"Stay here, sweetheart," he murmured before walking off quickly.
Buck blinked, startled. "What? Where are you going?"
Tommy didn’t answer, disappearing into another room. Buck could hear shuffling, the clatter of something hitting the ground, and a muffled "Shit."
Curiosity piqued, Buck sat up straighter. "Tommy? What are you doing?"
"Stay there!" Tommy shouted, his voice tinged with something between excitement and nervousness.
After a few minutes of mystery noises and anticipation, Tommy returned, his hair freshly combed and his cheeks pink as if he’d splashed his face with cold water. He held out a hand to Buck, his expression both earnest and shy. "May I?"
Buck tilted his head, surprised. "What are you doing?"
Tommy smiled shyly, his blush deepening. "Humor me."
Despite his confusion, Buck took Tommy’s hand, and in one swift move, Tommy pulled him up, straightened his hoodie, and fixed Buck's messy curls. "Perfect," Tommy said softly, punctuating the word with a quick kiss, the kind that left Buck with a huge dimpled smile.
Before Buck could question him again, Tommy led him toward the kitchen. As they rounded the corner, Buck’s eyes widened in surprise. The space had been transformed in record time. The lights were dimmed, and a few candles flickered on the counter. Tommy had pushed the kitchen table aside, clearing a small area in the center.
Tommy jogged over to a small portable speaker sitting on the counter and hit play. As the opening notes filled the room, Wise Men Say, Tommy turned back to Buck with an almost boyish grin, his hand outstretched.
"May I have this dance?"
Buck’s face turned crimson. "Tommy, I’m wearing shorts and a stained hoodie."
"And you’ve never looked hotter," Tommy quipped, wiggling his fingers. "Please?"
Buck hesitated for a moment, looking down at himself, then back at Tommy. The sight of Tommy standing there, looking both determined and bashful, melted every ounce of doubt. Slowly, he reached out. The second their hands touched, Tommy pulled him close, wrapping his arms around him and kissing him deeply.
When they parted, Tommy rested his forehead against Buck’s, their breaths mingling.
"You owed me a dance," Tommy said softly, his voice laced with affection.
Buck’s breath hitched as the memory of Maddie’s wedding came flooding back—the chaos and the bittersweet feeling of never getting their dance. He thought about the day he’d asked Tommy to be his date.
Then there was the day of the wedding itself, when somehow, the wedding had ended up being held in the hospital. Tommy had shown up, walking into the hospital still in his turnouts, looking tired but radiant. "sorry I’m late," he’d said simply.
That day had been perfect in its own way, but this moment, standing here in Tommy’s little kitchen, felt like it was carved out of time just for them.
Take my hand, take my whole life too...
Tommy tightened his arms around Buck, swaying them gently to the rhythm. Buck’s head rested on Tommy’s shoulder, and Tommy’s fingers traced lazy circles on Buck’s back, holding him close.
Buck closed his eyes, letting himself sink into the moment. "Thank you," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion.
“Like a river flows surely to the sea… Darling, so it goes, some things are meant to be...”
Buck lifted his head from Tommy’s shoulder, his blue eyes wide as he stared at him. Tommy was blushing but didn’t falter, his voice steady as he sang.
“Take my hand, take my whole life too…”
Tommy’s voice wavered slightly, and then he leaned in, his lips brushing against Buck’s ear as he sang the final lines directly to him, soft and heartfelt: “For I can’t help… falling in love with you.”
Buck’s breath hitched, his chest tightening as the words settled deep in his heart. He pulled back slightly, just enough to see Tommy’s face—flushed, shy, but undeniably full of love.
Tommy kissed his forehead, lingering just a second longer than necessary. His voice was a quiet promise, steady and sure. "Anything for you, Evan."
The song ended, but neither of them noticed when another began. They just stayed there, swaying in each other’s arms.
Buck chuckled softly, looking at Tommy. "You’re such a romantic, you know that?"
Tommy smiled, a hint of bashfulness returning. "Yeah, well, you bring it out of me."
Buck leaned, kissing him deeply, pouring every ounce of love he felt into that moment. "Don’t ever stop."
Tommy smiled against his lips. "Not a chance."
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chrisevansonly · 1 year ago
Text
𝐉𝐞 𝐓’𝐚𝐢𝐦𝐞
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𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐞𝐬 𝐥𝐞𝐜𝐥𝐞𝐫𝐜 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦𝐚𝐥𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫
𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: girls night is always fun for you, and now charles knows you only ever have and will have eyes for him
𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: slight swearing, very fluffy
𝐚/𝐧: this was a request from a while ago so I just decided to write it now, this fic has no french i have 0 brain power for it, and im so so sorry for takin such a long time to update, things have just been so busy and not amazing lately. anyway, enjoy 🫶🏻
🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀
Charles couldn’t hold back the smile on his face as he held your hip gently, your eyes narrowed at him in suspicion, clearly too many strawberry cocktails had been consumed tonight.
“Oh what’s that look for baby?”
“Don’t call me that. I have a boyfriend” you retaliated, words slurring as he nodded
“Baby, I am your boyfriend cmon, I have to get you home”
Shaking your head you reared back from him, your brain in its drunken state clearly not happy hearing that
“Absolutely not, I’m not going home with anyone, I’m going home with Charles”
Your friends were laughing at this point too, teasing you and poking fun at you, which you didn’t fully understand but Charles was ever the patient boyfriend, part of him slightly proud with your denial to leave the bar with anyone but him.
He had no insecurities in your relationship and he had the utmost trust in you, he just was happy to see you could handle yourself if you needed.
“How about I take you to find Charles then hmm?”
“Find Charles?”
He nodded, taking your hand in his as you reluctantly began to follow him, his arm moving to wrap around your waist as he directed the two of you out of the busy club, and over to his ferrari which was parked across the street.
“I know this car…” you said, letting out a yawn
“You do baby, come on…let’s go”
His voice was soft as he helped you into the car, doing up your seatbelt, holding back yet another laugh at the slight skeptical look in your eyes.
“Ready amour?”
At the sound of this a lazy smile pulls at your lips, thinking of Charles and the special little pet name he calls you
“Hmm Charlie calls me that…”
“He does, he knows it’s your favourite”
“How do you know?”
Smiling he leans down to kiss your forehead, happy to see your eyes slowly starting to close, hoping you’ll get some sleep on the way home.
“I just know amour…”
Just like he had suspected, you’d fallen asleep on the way home, your head resting against the window as he checked on you from time to time. Charles knew you’d either be a little more sober when you got home and recognized him, or he’d sleep in the guest room as he had before, he never wanted to make you uncomfortable if your brain wasn’t sober and you didn’t recognize him, which for the record rarely happened.
When he pulled up the driveway he opted to carry you upstairs, holding you to his chest as you slept soundly, only stirring when your back hit the mattress. Charles watching as your eyes opened and you blinked sleepily.
“Hi…”
“Hi baby…how are you feeling?”
Nodding you rubbed your eyes
“Hmm sleepy…thank you for picking me up”
“You’re welcome, you gave me quite the hard time…”
Groaning you looped your hands around his neck as he leaned over you, a teasing smile on his face
“I’m sorry baby…I swear I don’t mean it..”
“I know amour, if it makes you feel better I find it quite cute when it happens”
You rolled your eyes laughing softly, knowing he just enjoyed seeing you try and fight him off thinking he was just a random guy, it boosted his ego, but in the best way possible.
“How about I get you some comfy clothes and take your makeup off?”
He waited for you to nod before leaning down and pressing a kiss to your lips
“I love you, even if you forget who I am sometimes”
Hitting his chest gently you smiled
“I love you too…and i’m never drinking again”
Charles laughed shaking his head, knowing you’d very much do this all over again at another girls night in the future, but he didn’t mind at all. Especially when he got to cuddle up next to you every night, knowing he was the one that got to hold your heart in his care.
Even if you did forget who he was from time to time…
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